My femme closet was getting out of hand and it was getting hard to find anything I needed or to put anything back without just stuffing it in. So I pulled out pretty much every item in my cool weather wardrobe with the plan to cull a few to make room. I was wearing a pair of black leggings and that particular closet contained all my tops and sweaters. So, I tried everything on and only found 2 items to cull. I was reminded just how much I like that part of my wardrobe.
Anyone who?s run across any of my posts knows that I have a full beard and long hair. My hair was down for the inventory, which was a pain ?cause I had to brush it with every top. I wore a bra, but don?t wear forms, so my tiny breasts and the outline of my bra was very evident in any of the thinner fabrics. I put on a string of pearls and had on mascara, which is the only makeup I do at this point.
The point is that I went through my wardrobe and loved pretty much everything I tried on. But, as I was going, I just got a stronger and stronger feeling that I?m looking less and less like a "feminine man" and more like a confident eccentric old man who loves who he is. I am quite sure that anyone seeing me in the wild would just assume that I?m gay. I?d have always avoided doing anything that would give that impression, but I?ve come to the point where, inside, I am ready to just let them be wrong without feeling the need to appease them.
Social masculinity has always had a definition that excluded much of who I am. I?ve never matched my wife?s definition of masculinity and have paid dearly, long before I bought my first pair of panties. But, I don?t feel feminine, even in lace. I do feel eccentric. I want to be bold and confident in my eccentricity. But, at sixty-eight, I?m starting from ground zero...
