T-girls know the purge. How many times throughout our lives have we decided we are DONE, that we are NEVER EVER going to wear “girl’s” clothes ever again? That this was a phase and we are MANLY MEN and men don’t wear five-inch black patent stilettos? Into the trash they go!
But… in a matter or weeks, months, years or even hours, we regret it. We hit the mall and begin rebuilding our wardrobe.
Again and again and again.
I am decades passed thinking that I would be able to resist who I am. I knew it was never a phase, that I would always want to wear what I want to wear, but I thought I could control it. I remember the last time I threw everything away and hoping I could tough it out. These days my wardrobe and shoe collection are larger than it ever was.
But I still purge every once in a while. I go through my wardrobe and closet, drawers and makeup, and toss out and donate what doesn’t fit or what I don’t wear anymore. I like de-cluttering and it gives me more hangers and closet space for new stuff. 🙂
Yesterday I organized my jewelry and tossed out earrings that I can no longer find it’s mate, bracelets that fall into the “why did I buy this” category and necklaces that I can’t wait to wear now that I have untangled them. I found the first pair of earrings my wife bought me, the first necklace I wore outside my home and the bracelets I bought on a shopping party the MN T-Girls attended.
I can’t speak for all t-girls, but I have a deep, personal connection to what is considered girl’s clothes and things. This yellow dress is more than a dress, this is a dress that I was able to wear to wear after working so hard to lose weight. It represents hard work and determination.
I have many stories and there are meanings to so many things I own and wear. I bet you have these stories and memories too.
This is who I am. It’s who I grew up as and who I will grow old(er) as.
I have always been transgender, even before I knew there was a word for it.
My definition of transgender is rather broad and it basically comes down to any feeling, thinking, clothing preferences…whatever, that go against traditional societal norms about what boys and girls “should” wear or act.
I can trace back to when I tried on my first article of clothing that traditionally boys don’t wear. It was a pair of my mom’s boots, found in the back of a closet in our basement. I was around five or six years old.
As a child, I was fascinated by and in love with dresses, makeup and shoes. I still am. My adoration for these things was always there, even before I could ride a bike without training wheels. How’s that for perspective?
All throughout my childhood I tried on as many things as I could. I suppose some would describe this as “experimenting” with girl’s clothes but I wasn’t experimenting. I knew who I was, I knew what I wanted. I didn’t think I was born with the wrong body, I just didn’t understand why simply being one gender meant that I wasn’t “allowed” to wear what I wanted to.
I remember the first day I was brave enough to wear panties under my work clothes. All throughout my shift I was terrified but proud of myself. I was fifteen. I liked wearing dresses (or tops, skirts, anything) whenever I had the chance. Wearing panties was, and still is, an intimate and personal connection to who I am.
I do not want to transition, I like who I am and I like being able to go back and forth between whatever gender I choose, but for some of us we know that presenting as male is required for most of what we do. In a world where no one cares about gender and societal norms, sure, I suppose I could wear that dress to work, but I don’t see that happening in my lifetime. It is enough to be able to wear a lacy pair of pink panties under my suit. I smile inwardly when I have to do something MANLY like drive a forklift while I think about the cute undies I have on under my jeans.
The most common question we are asked is WHY. Why do we do this? Why do we want to? Why do we choose to wear bras and heels? We fumble and incoherently answer these questions without a convincing or satisfying answer. We don’t know why we are who we are. Usually the answer to these questions is simply “I just like wearing skirts” or “I love to feel beautiful”. These answers are honest and real and true, but also vague.
But we also ask these questions of ourselves. There is no answer. There are reasons, but there is no real explanation. We know how to go and come back from the moon and why the sky is blue but not why I love to wear lingerie. Besides the obvious reasons, of course.
Underdressing (wearing a cute cami, panties, bras, stockings, etc, under male clothes) keeps me connected to who I am. I wear panties, I want to wear panties, and by my definition of transgender, that alone makes me transgender. This would also be true if ‘panties’ were replaced by ‘nail polish’ or whatever.
I need to clarify that every trans person is different. I know many t-girls who wouldn’t wear high heels for any amount of money. They choose jeans over dresses, sneakers instead of pumps. I know some cis-women like that, too. Wardrobe and makeup alone do not make you trans. Some of us are trans because they simply (or complexly) felt like they were assigned the wrong gender at birth, or that they have anatomical features that contradict with their identity. These feelings have nothing to do with a cute pencil skirt.
For me, gender identity and clothes, like tangled necklaces, are forever entwined.
Love, Hannah
For the February 
Recently I was asked if I do anything to 
Hannah McKnight 