Frédérique
08-29-2012, 08:32 PM
Welcome to No Man’s Land, the place where boys are not boys, males are not males, and men are not men, at least in the traditional sense. Oh, there are plenty of men in the MtF section, but they would prefer to not be seen as such, or reminded of such, and I count myself among them. I can discuss masculinity all the live long day, but on this side of the so-called fence we like to discuss femininity, relative to one's own definition, thank you, and enjoy the difference we have made for ourselves. If you are disturbed by the word “man,” I apologize. Pardon me while I head out to the battlefield…
Being a MtF crossdresser is like living in a trench in No Man’s Land, caught between the “lines,” at the front but (curiously) at the periphery, a casualty of the so-called “War Between the Sexes.” The imaginary battle lines have been drawn, but we are stuck in the middle, in a hopelessly exposed position. Projectiles, either verbal or silent, are hurled at us from both sides – males don’t like us, or don’t like our kind, and females really, really, really have a hard time accepting the fact that we exist. I’m talking about the compassionless individuals who “man” the trenches on either side of us, and not the few enlightened individuals we may encounter from time to time…
Yeah, every man and woman is entrenched, and they won’t be going anywhere for a long, long time. That puts me, the MtF crossdresser, in a lonely position, strategically placed within an imaginary boundary. To tell the truth, I wanted to be here, apart from my male brethren, and I achieved my goal simply by changing my clothes – this simple act of expression banished me to a limbo of my own making, but I saw it coming. I didn’t want to be like THEM, so I packed up my “kit,” left the trenches of masculinity, and headed out to take my chances. Over yonder is my ultimate goal, the beckoning trenches of femininity - am I fully equipped to make the journey? I planned this sortie very carefully but, truth be told, my intelligence may or may not have been completely reliable…
Initially, my “crossing” of the gender barrier made good ground. Surely the other side would be sympathetic to a male who has feminine proclivities, or someone who would willfully turn away from masculinity, modifying a “stance” that we males stubbornly reinforce at every turn. I sent out feelers to the other side, but, to my horror, they neither welcomed me nor accepted my kind. This came as a brutal shock – I had just stretched my logistics to the furthest limit, only to be thrown back at the gates of the (feminine) capital. I became entangled in the defenses. Alas, there are no reserves, and I must content myself with what I have. I dug in. I am not transgendered, I am merely a boy in a dress, something that is unwanted by society and the gender “armies” that keep everything separate. The latter are funded and/or supported by society, which leaves me endlessly isolated in No Man’s Land…
I can’t go back. They don’t want me back in the male trenches – I’m detrimental to the public (male) good, since I represent anti-masculine weakness. This is a world built on strength, so my kind is seen as something less than desirable. I’m certainly NOT weak in character, in fact my conception of strength is the right one, and I will defend it at all costs – I will not give up on what is dear to me, even if it means a life spent in No Man’s Land, neither here nor there, under an increasingly relentless barrage of hatred from ALL sides. I cast my lot with fate, and I will do as best I can out here in the wilderness. My “trench” has become my home over time. Now and then I stick my head over the top, but not for very long – I know I’m firmly in someone’s crosshairs. I can neither advance nor retreat; in fact it takes all of my strength to hold the line against any incursions. I stand alone, far from my friends, and I shall remain here as long as it takes…
There used to be the possibility of interaction between the genders, a “blurring” of sorts, but that is now discouraged. No Man’s Land is getting wider every day, but I’m still in position, surrounded on all sides…
Are you stuck in No Man’s Land? :sad:
Being a MtF crossdresser is like living in a trench in No Man’s Land, caught between the “lines,” at the front but (curiously) at the periphery, a casualty of the so-called “War Between the Sexes.” The imaginary battle lines have been drawn, but we are stuck in the middle, in a hopelessly exposed position. Projectiles, either verbal or silent, are hurled at us from both sides – males don’t like us, or don’t like our kind, and females really, really, really have a hard time accepting the fact that we exist. I’m talking about the compassionless individuals who “man” the trenches on either side of us, and not the few enlightened individuals we may encounter from time to time…
Yeah, every man and woman is entrenched, and they won’t be going anywhere for a long, long time. That puts me, the MtF crossdresser, in a lonely position, strategically placed within an imaginary boundary. To tell the truth, I wanted to be here, apart from my male brethren, and I achieved my goal simply by changing my clothes – this simple act of expression banished me to a limbo of my own making, but I saw it coming. I didn’t want to be like THEM, so I packed up my “kit,” left the trenches of masculinity, and headed out to take my chances. Over yonder is my ultimate goal, the beckoning trenches of femininity - am I fully equipped to make the journey? I planned this sortie very carefully but, truth be told, my intelligence may or may not have been completely reliable…
Initially, my “crossing” of the gender barrier made good ground. Surely the other side would be sympathetic to a male who has feminine proclivities, or someone who would willfully turn away from masculinity, modifying a “stance” that we males stubbornly reinforce at every turn. I sent out feelers to the other side, but, to my horror, they neither welcomed me nor accepted my kind. This came as a brutal shock – I had just stretched my logistics to the furthest limit, only to be thrown back at the gates of the (feminine) capital. I became entangled in the defenses. Alas, there are no reserves, and I must content myself with what I have. I dug in. I am not transgendered, I am merely a boy in a dress, something that is unwanted by society and the gender “armies” that keep everything separate. The latter are funded and/or supported by society, which leaves me endlessly isolated in No Man’s Land…
I can’t go back. They don’t want me back in the male trenches – I’m detrimental to the public (male) good, since I represent anti-masculine weakness. This is a world built on strength, so my kind is seen as something less than desirable. I’m certainly NOT weak in character, in fact my conception of strength is the right one, and I will defend it at all costs – I will not give up on what is dear to me, even if it means a life spent in No Man’s Land, neither here nor there, under an increasingly relentless barrage of hatred from ALL sides. I cast my lot with fate, and I will do as best I can out here in the wilderness. My “trench” has become my home over time. Now and then I stick my head over the top, but not for very long – I know I’m firmly in someone’s crosshairs. I can neither advance nor retreat; in fact it takes all of my strength to hold the line against any incursions. I stand alone, far from my friends, and I shall remain here as long as it takes…
There used to be the possibility of interaction between the genders, a “blurring” of sorts, but that is now discouraged. No Man’s Land is getting wider every day, but I’m still in position, surrounded on all sides…
Are you stuck in No Man’s Land? :sad: