So… this weekend Shannonlee and I shot our first two videos for the En Femme series called “Help Me Hannah”.
Anyway, do you ever stand in male mode in front of the mirror, with your makeup spread out all over the counter and your outfit for the day hanging up behind you? And you start to wonder how this is going to go? What is this going to look like?
Goodness I know that feeling. I have that feeling every time I am at the precipice between BOY and GIRL. My middle aged male self is staring back at me, almost taunting me. How are you going to turn THIS into HER?
Like going on a quest, you have to get help from others and you need to prepare. Frodo didn’t go alone, after all.
My armor is a corset and a dress. My companions are my makeup artist and photographer. With their help I can rid my mirror of masculinity.
…where was I going with this?
Everything new we do in life, especially en femme, is an adventure outside of our comfort zone. Much of the hesitation we have when we do this is unknowing what will happen or how things will turn out. We fear the unknown, we fear failure.
I am very glad I have taken the chances I have. Whether it was taking the chance of when I started the MN T-Girls or contacted various designers for modeling opportunities or booking a professional photo shoot. All of these chances led to amazing moments that have enhanced my life. Even going out of the house en femme was, and still is, a huge step.
But they all have been with a huge amount of hesitation, fear, and trepidation… all rooted in not knowing how things will turn out.
This past weekend was very much like that. When Shannonlee and I arrived at the studio to shoot the videos we were both about to embark on something new. Between the open suitcase filled with clothes and various audio recording gear spread out on a counter it was a little overwhelming and intimidating.
Doing something new is always easier with a friend and I’m glad that these new projects are another opportunity to work with her. Her honesty and feedback and friendship, along with her photographer’s eye is a blessing.
With the ring light charged and the microphone snapped onto her camera, we bit the bullet and dived in.
We recorded, re-recorded, started over, started again. We laughed, I tripped over my words, I babbled, I went off-script, tried again, and again and again.
I wanted to, more or less, adapt my writings into video presentation. But my fear was, and is, not knowing how if I could do it. You know, the fear of not knowing how something will turn out. I tend to be a very careful writer (but I still make spelling errors and grammatical mistakes). I write, I edit, I rewrite, I start over. When I speak, I try to speak slowly as I am trying to choose my words carefully so I can avoid not being misunderstood. I am not always very spontaneous and it’s sometimes hard to know where I am going when I start talking.
I had an outline of what I wanted to say and the points I wanted to make. I didn’t want to come off as if I was reading cue cards or anything like that. I wanted to appear genuine and sincere. I wasn’t trying for perfection, I expected a few ums and ahs and that’s okay.
I am not sure how many minutes of video we shot. I have no idea how the editor will work her magic with what we filmed. But I’ve also wondered how my makeup artist will work with what I bring her and I’ve also wondered how Shannonlee will be able to get a decent photo of me.
Working with professionals is amazing. I love seeing talented people take something and turn it into something beautiful and amazing. It’s like watching a chef turn a pile of ingredients into a delicious meal or an artist taking paint to a canvas.
I was more relaxed than I thought I would be but I am still wrought with anxiety. What if the microphone didn’t work as well as it should have? What if every minute we filmed is unusable? What if I spoke too quickly?
I am trying not to overthink. This is a learning process.
One of the unknowns about all of this was whether or not I would enjoy doing these things. And I did! More than I thought I would. I learned what went well and what didn’t and I have ideas for the next one.
I’ve no idea when the videos will be posted but I promise I’ll be sure to tell you. Just be gentle with your feedback. 🙂
Yesterday was the monthly MN T-Girls event and we went to Lush for drag bingo.
And it was super fun!
Drag bingo is exactly what you think it is. Well, maybe. I can’t read your mind. Essentially it’s bingo with a fabulous queen calling out the numbers. Our host was Nikki Vixxen and she was amazing.
I am not much of a nightclub girl and I had forgotten how loud they can be. I suppose I am getting older, lol.
Although none of us won at bingo, we all won at looking super cute.
Or something. I think that’s the maxim. It might be an actual quote that is attributed to someone or just something someone said and the person we can attribute it to has been lost to time.
Anyway.
I have been thinking about doing videos for a while. What held me back, at least initially, is my lack of technical prowess. I know there are editing programs and the like and I am sure googling “how to make videos” would tell me everything I need to know. But honestly? I think doing videos would take a lot of time… not something I have oodles of.
I had mentioned doing videos a few years here and someone emailed volunteering to edit and produce them. It was kind of them but as we communicated back and forth I had the impression that they were, well, a little flaky. I didn’t get the impression that the collaboration would work.
They also had, ah, a different idea as to what kind of videos they wanted me to create.
If I were to do anything, be it a video or another project, I need to make sure that the other person could, well, keep up with me. It’s also imperative that they are on the same page as me in terms of what we are creating. I am so fortunate to work with, and be friends with, my photographer Shannonlee. Not only do we have a lot of fun doing photo shoots but we also work really well with each other.
But the final and definitive nail in the video coffin was, well, a video that Shannonlee and I shot a few years ago. We were doing a shoot for a review and we were asked to take some short clips of me walking in some of the outfits. Aaaand I HATED how they turned out.
So, that was that.
For a while, anyway.
When 2022 crawled it’s way to the finish line and the optimism and potential of a new year glowed in the distance, I felt a little… ambitious.
And a little restless.
I don’t normally take time off from my job but with the end of year holidays I was, well, forced to. So I had time to unwind and take a break from a my demanding career. The absence of stress allowed a feeling of ambition to grow and vibrate inside me. I was feeling like… well, doing something new.
Something that terrified me.
It was in this perfect storm of restlessness and ambition that En Femme asked me to film a series of videos for their website.
And I said YES.
They have asked in the past but I always said no. Although they will handle all of the technical stuff I resisted because I was super cringed out by the video I mentioned earlier.
They say that comparison is the thief of joy and although I do like being verbose and I agree with the statement, I am not crazy about the wording of it. And I don’t necessarily know why. But that’s not the point.
What the statement means to me is that if you compare yourself to someone else then all that energy takes away the fun, the uniqueness, the YOUness of who you are.
But seeing how you measure up is kind of ingrained in our lives these days. At my job we are reminded of our metrics constantly. My manager is always showing my team our rankings in terms of who is on top, who is behind. He thinks it motivates us. He is wrong.
Social media tracks our followers, our likes, our everything. Sometimes I am impressed with how many followers I have on Twitter, but then I see another girl with like a zillion fans and I am reminded I am just a small fish in a giant ocean.
It’s easy to feel discouraged when so many aspects of our lives have a numerical value associated with it. I might be having a good day at work and then my boss tells me that based on last quarter’s numbers (or whatever) I need to step up or something.
Most of the time I don’t care. BUT this post is about the times when I DO care.
I suppose “care” isn’t the right word. Perhaps jealousy is a better phrase.
If a t-girl has a lot more followers than I do (not that social media followers are anything to base one’s self worth on) I usually speculate why that is. Sometimes they are incredibly charming and funny so it’s easy to see why they have so many fans. Sometimes they post a lot of, well, sexually explicit pictures of themselves and that can usually increase one’s followers.
It’s not unusual for another t-girl to be more… hm, charismatic than myself. I like to think that I am a little clever but goodness there are some very hilarious and interesting t-girls out there. I can’t compare with them. So, I don’t get tooooo discouraged when I see their massive (and well earned) follower count.
Posting sexually charged pictures or nudity can appeal to a LOT of people. And that’s okay. People can post what they want and people can follow who they please. If a t-girl has a zillion followers AND they usually only post nudity then it’s not unreasonable to assume that this content is what is driving their follower count.
I can’t compare my social media followers with someone like that. I am not going to post sexually explicit pictures or whatever. My content is different than their content. IF I was also ALSO posting pictures like that THEN I might feel different about their higher follower number.
Of course, it’s not fair to assume that their fans are their fans ONLY because of that type of content.
When I feel jealous of another t-girl, it helps when I dive in a little deeper and try to look at things from a different perspective. My jealousy isn’t limited to just the number of Twitter followers they have. It’s usually associated with, well, how much cuter, how much more femme they are compared to me.
This is a good moment to remind all of us (myself included) that no one is in competition with each other. There are no standards or expectations for femininity. No one is more femme than another.
…but I think you know what I mean.
I will never ever say that Hannah is more feminine than anyone. That’s not polite or measurable. All that matters is how content that person is with who they. Some of us love dresses and makeup and stilettos. I know I do. I am drawn to these items AND I love how they make me look and how they make me feel. Others love a more casual look, jeans and the like. Using myself as an example, I feel both pictures below can represent femininity.
When I am really feeling myself I pride myself on my presentation especially in light of my physical attributes. Again, this is diving into gender binary standards and again, there are no standards and again, I think you know what I mean.
If a character in a movie is meant to be feminine, there are usually portrayed by a petite woman, softer features, a heart-shaped face, and pretty clothes. A feminine character in a movie does not look like me. They might dress like me, but I have broad shoulders, a square jawline, and huge hands. And I am very tall. I have more physical characteristics in common with the lead actor than the lead actress.
But despite these standards being drilled into our heads from the moment we are born, I have overcome thinking I NEED to look a certain way to present femme. I can make all of THIS work in a way that makes me very happy and feel very femme, shoulders be damned.
My feeling of feeling femme and looking femme is not in competition with anyone… except myself, perhaps. Personally I feel I look more femme than I did ten years ago.
I am completely happy and satisfied and content who I am and how I look.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t get jealous sometimes.
Social media can be soul-crushing at times. When I see another t-girl on Twitter that is incredibly cute I can get pretty jealous. I wish I looked that good, that cute, that beautiful en femme.
To clarify, I don’t wish I looked like her 24/7. I just wish I looked as stunning as she does when I am en femme.
But I don’t hate on them. I am not catty or bitchy towards them. If I am feeling jealous it’s not her problem, it’s my own.
Seeing a beautiful t-girl used to trigger dysphoria or feelings of insecurity. Thankfully those moments have, for the most part, passed. On my good days, a pretty t-girl inspires me.
I hate feeling jealous. It takes a lot of effort for me to move on from feeling envious. Sometimes I am able to let it go by just… reminding myself how fortunate I am to have the life, the wardrobe that I do… as well as the body that I have. There really isn’t a physical feature that I have which I absolutely hate. I used to hate how tall I am when I am en femme. These days my height doesn’t bother me and on my good days I am absolutely in love with how tall Hannah is. I also remind myself how damn lucky I am to be able-bodied.
But there are two things that help my jealousy. One is more cerebral, the other is I suppose, is more spiritual.
The cerebral perspective is absolutely more logical. If I see a stunning t-girl either online or a t-girl I know in real life and, well, if they look more femme than I do, I need to remember three things:
There’s not a competition when it comes to being femme
There are no standards when it comes to what is what isn’t femme
IF I feel the need to measure myself up to another girl, am I being fair to myself?
The first item is pretty straightforward. I cringe when girls like us gloat about how much feminine they are compared to their wives. It’s not a contest and yes, almost every crossdresser and t-girl on the planet has more stilettos and dresses than their spouse.
The second point is something I’ve written about before.
But the third is a rare instance of me being a little less harsh on myself. I am not sure if I would call myself competitive but I do hold myself to pretty high expectations and standards. What I mean is that I always try to do my best in whatever I do and I tend to get frustrated when I am doing ANYTHING and I know I have the potential to do better at it.
I try to measure myself by comparing myself to, well, myself.
In my male life, if I do something and it doesn’t turn out the way that I hoped I ask myself if I could have done it better. And I try to be as objective and as realistic as possible. If I do admit to myself that yes, I could have done it better I will either redo it or do it to my full potential in the future.
And that’s usually the end of that.
It’s not as easy for Hannah to move on, if I am being honest.
When I say I get jealous it’s less about being bitchy or wanting to cut down the t-girl that is cuter or more femme than I think I am. It’s more about wanting to look as beautiful as they are.
When I am en femme I try to look as, well, as good as possible. But I can only do what I can with what I have to work with. And for the most part I am very happy and content with my presentation. I know that I am living up to my femme potential, if you know what I mean. My makeup is as contoured as it can get, my corset is as cinched as it can be without doing harm, and I am as tucked as a girl can be.
And everything is great.
And then I see another t-girl, either online or a member of the MN T-Girls. Bam! Jealousy.
To be clear, it’s not that I want to look as beautiful as they do, I want to look as beautiful as they are… when I am en femme. I wish I had that potential.
The cerebral side needs to be engaged to help with my envy. To be clear, my jealous needs to be tamed so I can stop, well, beating myself up. I don’t think I let my jealousy impact my interaction with a prettier t-girl, but I need to control the downward spiral of a self-deprecating self-esteem.
Essentially I ask myself (and of course I need to actually LISTEN to myself) why does she look so pretty? How is it possible she can be so femme?
Many of us are just blessed, I suppose. Some of us just have a more femme face or a smaller frame or can wear a size 8 heel. Genetics or luck is on their side.
I can’t do anything about my body. This is where the spiritual side comes in but more on that later.
Some t-girls take their presentation to a level that I am not on. It’s usually a level I have no interest in moving to. What I mean is that some of us take estrogen or t-blockers or have medical and surgical procedures to help their body align with how they see themselves.
If I am feeling jealous of a t-girl I need to tell myself that I simply can’t compare my femme-ness with a t-girl that has had facial feminization surgery or a trachea shave. I can’t compare myself to a t-girl that has been taking hormones for three years.
I mean, of course these girls are going to look more femme than me. Under all of my shapewear and padding and forms I have the physical body of a cisgender man in his late forties.
I can only do so much. And the majority of the time I am absolutely over the moon with what I CAN do with what I have.
And honestly? As shallow as all of this is, it helps. Of course, I still need to get a handle on my envy when I see girls like Heidi Phox who, as far as I know, hasn’t had any work done (if you will) but that’s another topic for another day.
As for the aforementioned spiritual perspective…
I am not a religious person but I was raised Catholic. I can still recite the prayers that we were taught as I grew up. One prayer that I always liked and to this day is still, well, comforting is what is usually called the serenity prayer.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can change, and the wisdom to know the difference.
And I am sure some might think this is blasphemous but I apply this perspective to my femme presentation in addition to other aspects of my life.
But isn’t that the point of some prayers? To be able to find relevance in one’s life and experience?
I need to accept the fact that there is not anything I can do outside of medical help about my body. I mean, I can impact my body weight but I am probably going to be a size 12 stiletto for the rest of my life and will likely have my broad shoulders for a very long time.
I need to let it go. I can’t stress about my masculine frame in comparison to, well, any girl.
I CAN focus on what I CAN change. I CAN improve my makeup skills, for example. When I finally met my idol Sybillast month she inspired me to up my game with my eyeshadow. A perfect example of envy leading to inspiration. Doing this might involve a private makeup lesson which at one time would have been a very brave thing to do and very much out of my comfort zone. But, you know, courage to change the things I can change…
And then there’s wisdom. There are things I can change. I can (and do) shave my body hair, I can practice walking in stilettos, I can invest in a high quality wig… things that I personally help me feel feminine (not that one needs these things to BE femme, mind you).
I can’t change the size of my hands, my feet, my face. I have to make it work.
And whether I make all of THIS work is a personal perspective. I am not sure if I look femme to YOU or anyone else. But really, someone else’s opinion of me isn’t really relevant. I LIKE how I look. I am (almost) always happy and content with my mirror’s reflection.
I suppose I will always have flashes of jealousy. It’s how I react to that feeling is what matters. If feeling envy made me rude or bitchy to another girl or intimidated by them, well, that would be a problem and something I would want to change. But I think that, for the most part, my jealousy can quickly turn to being inspired.
Hi! I try to post every other day or at the very least, not let more than two days go without updating this site. I’ve been working on a post that is getting longer and longer and longer and I was hoping I would have it ready and raring to go by today but the post is still getting longer and longer and longer and I hope it’s finished by the end of the year.
I am being a TINY bit dramatic here.
I have a lot going on over the next two months and everything more or less kicks off this Saturday with a photo shoot. I am sort of feeling I have committed to more than I should have (in both of my lives) and I am excited and freaked out at the same time.
I make no effort to “pass” as cisgender. I am trans and proud. I am a t-girl and not bothering to hide that.
Of course, this courage and declaration is primarily reserved for my femme life. I still keep my non cisgender side of me a secret to almost everyone in “his” world.
On my Twitter account I will sometimes use the hashtag #GirlsLikeUs or #TransIsBeautiful or something similar. My Twitter bio has the transgender pride flag in it as well. Essentially I am not trying to catfish anyone.
I assume people know I am trans, whether it’s because of a hashtag I use or because, well, I don’t think I look like a cisgender girl (not that there are any standards that a cisgender girl must have, mind you).
I get a lot of direct messages on Twitter and I presume that the sender knows that I am transgender. I mean, you have to visit my bio (the one with the transgender pride flag on it) in order to write directly to me.
Of course, some people might not know what that icon represents or what #GirlsLikeUs means.
Regardless, I presume that the person messaging me knows that I am transgender.
When I get a message I usually look at the sender’s profile before I reply to them. I want to get a feel for what this person tweets about or who they follow. Essentially I want to know if they are complete fetishists or, well, assholes. And honestly? Most men (and yes, not all men) who message me fall into one of those two categories.
The vast majority of these DMs do not go beyond this exchange:
Some guy: hi
Me: Hi
The same guy: hello
Me: Hello
And that’s the end of that.
Sometimes the guy actually puts a tiny bit of effort into his message. Sometimes they get right to the point, if you will. Sooner or later their messaging cuts to the chase and he tells me that I am hot or beautiful or whatever. And that’s fine. I like compliments, lol. But then after saying something nice like that it almost always jumps to something overly sexual.
And that’s the end of that.
If the dude in question primarily follows/retweets t-girls that post primarily sexual pictures, my assumption is that they are likely a chaser or someone who fetishizes trans girls. They could also be curious about, well, being intimate with someone who has a penis but they think it’s, ah, “less gay” if said person is a girl. I don’t think there is anything necessarily wrong with being sexually curious and I don’t think certain genitalia or anatomy is exclusive to a specific gender.
And I suppose you could take a step back and, well, not assume the guy is a fetishist. It’s not uncommon for a guy to be attracted to petite girls or girls with red hair or any number of physical characteristics. You could broaden that scope to a guy just being attracted to girls with a penis without diving too deep into his psyche.
Anyway.
I am going to strut into fairly… presumptuous territory here. I know there are likely other reasons or motivations for the guys I am about to speculate about. I admit I am not a therapist or psychiatrist or I have no interest in analyzing the men who message me so please know that my assumptions and speculation are exactly that: assumptions and speculations.
And I could be completely wrong in my assumptions and speculations.
When a guy DMs me I look at their profile. Are they sports fans? Do they lean one way politically? Are they super into heavy metal? Do they only retweet photos of girls in stilettos?
Although one’s social media can give someone an idea what that person is like, I admit that most people are very complex and one’s Twitter account is not necessarily indicative of who they are. So, although almost every picture they post is them in a boat with a fish they just caught, it’s likely that there is more to them than just being a guy who fishes.
I usually need to remind myself of this. I tend to paint people with a fairly broad brush and that’s not fair. I know I shouldn’t assume anything, especially based on someone’s social media profile.
That being said…
I’ll get DMs from guys who, well, seem to despise the LGBTQ+ community. What I mean is that it’s not unusual for me to get a “your (sic) sexy” message from someone who Likes stories about books being banned because they have a gay character in then. Or perhaps they Like a story about armed men showing up a LGBTQ+ nightclub on the evening of a drag show.
Of course, it’s possible they like the story for other reasons, but it’s possible to presume they like the idea of a book being removed from a library or they like that armed men are intimidating adult patrons of a drag show.
Again, these are my assumptions. BUT I feel that they are likely correct. If someone is consistently retweeting stories like this, it’s likely that they support and agree with the actions highlighted in the post. If the person also follows a lot of anti-LGBTQ+ journalists or news outlets, it adds credence to my supposition.
When I get a message from someone like this that is meant to be flirty I do wonder if they know I am transgender.
IF they know AND they still tweet/Like messages that seem to be, ah, disapproving of the LGBTQ+ community, well, obviously they are a hypocrite OR they will happily engage in flirty messages with a transgirl… as long as no one knows. Bitch, I am NOT your little secret.
IF they don’t know, I do wonder how they would react if they found out. I imagine they would likely stop messaging me (yay!) OR they would be, oh, I guess embarrassed and possibly get really angry with me. Like it was my fault that I made them horny. Bitch, YOU messaged ME.
I suppose it’s too optimistic to think that maybe they would realize that transpeople aren’t the evil perverts some people say we are.
Listen.
I know people are complex and labeling things along the gender binary are silly and that sexuality and sexual preferences and even fetishes can be complex and not able (and usually don’t need) to be classified.
But I do know that being hypocritical is pretty clear cut. You either walk the walk or you don’t.
You can’t hate on transpeople in public AND flirt with them in secret. You can’t call us perverts on Facebook and then try to fuck us when your wife is out of town.
Of course, that brings up another point… men who have things in their Twitter bio like “FAMILY is most important to me. I love my wife and our kids” and then slide into my DMs wanting to rail me but I suppose that’s another topic for another day.
I am always stretched pretty thin between this website, the MN T-Girls, social media, photo shoots, and future projects. And! I have allll the responsibilities of my boy life, too. Goodness it gets exhausting.
There’s a lot I do that is, I suppose, behind the scenes. Photo shoots, T-Girl events, and projects just don’t happen. They can sometimes take months to plan… and then there are the plans that just fall through that I don’t write about.
This website is a result of a lot of unseen work. It takes a long time for me to write an article, even the shorter ones. Managing activity on the site, both on my end and from comments a post might inspire can be time consuming. I delete a lot of spam comments as well as a lot of very sexually explicit messages. Luckily I am able to delete many of these comments before most readers see them. What becomes tricky is if I am not near my laptop or if I am asleep and a comment goes live I am not able to delete it as quickly as I would like to.
I really like seeing you all interact with each other in the comments. I think community is so so so important, especially for girls like us.
Sometimes the comments go off the rails. Sometimes they are in very poor taste. Sometimes they are transphobic. Sometimes a comment can be completely unhinged. Sometimes these comments are, well, threatening.
I hate deleting comments. I rarely do delete them, to be honest. Since this website launched in August of 2016 I have only deleted 13 of them. Considering there has been over 5.6k comments since the site began I like to think that number of deleted comments is relatively low. And! Some of those deleted comments were duplicate/double posts so I am not sure if those count.
I also hate closing comments on posts but it’s happening more often than I would like.
I have made the decision to modify how comments are posted. It used to be that once someone had one comment approved, then ALL of their future comments would be automatically approved.
Not anymore. And I’m sorry.
All comments will need to be reviewed before they are approved.
I don’t anticipate declining many comments, however. I am not only going to approve comments that I agree with, for example. I think I’m pretty clear where I stand on some issues and I’ve avoided overly political and decisive posts for a while now, but sometimes the comments veer off in that direction anyway even if the post has nothing to do with politics.
My biggest regret in all this is that I think people might not comment as much as before.
Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope your day is filled with whatever makes you happy.
And yes, many holidays are just another day for many of us but I hope you can spend some time with someone special even if that special someone is yourself.
Hi! I appreciate it when someone sends a link my way that they think we would be interested in. Sometimes it’s a link to another t-girl’s website or a new place to buy lingerie, a story in the news I missed, or resources that help us in other ways.
I’d like to pass on three sites I think are crucial to our community. If you know of any others that are helpful, please let me know.
Trans Lifeline is a grassroots hotline and microgrants non-profit organization offering direct emotional and financial support to trans people in crisis – for the trans community, by the trans community.
Transgender Law Center (TLC) is the largest national trans-led organization advocating for a world in which all people are free to define themselves and their futures. Grounded in legal expertise and committed to racial justice, TLC employs a variety of community-driven strategies to keep transgender and gender nonconforming people alive, thriving, and fighting for liberation.
Trans Empowerment Project is moving the Trans community out of crisis and into empowerment by focusing on the abolition of white supremacy to ensure that our most marginalized community members, Disabled Queer and Trans People of Color, can thrive and live their best lives.
Some people who live outside of Minnesota think that we all commute atop the back of polar bears and live in igloos. Yes, Minnesota is cold but we also have very humid and long and gross summers.
But the idea that the state is a frozen tundra is a persistent and stubborn perception. If I am being honest sometimes these days I’m wondering if we will ever see grass again or be able to retrieve the mail without eight layers of clothes.
Why on earth do we live in a state where the weather is trying it’s best to kill us?
I asked myself that question again on Thursday morning when I slipped hard on the ice.
To be fair, if my fall was caught on video it probably would have looked hilarious. Bam! Bitch went down!*
What makes it funnier is that I was standing completely still. I was dragging our trash can to the street and had to carefully make my way down a very icy driveway. We live at the top of a hill so it was quite perilous. I managed to get to the street with my dignity intact but as soon as I positioned the bin I was quickly on the ground.
And goodness did it hurt. My left hand took the worst of the fall. After I dragged myself out of the street I wrapped two fingers and my palm in bandages. Skin was torn, I have a blood blister, and the edges of my fingernails were stained with blood.
I know! SO gross.
Anyway, I was changing my Band-Aids before going to sleep last night (not unlike an injured solider in the Civil War cutting off their limbs to avoid gangrene) and I was reminded how many… parts our body has.
If we look at a body part (other than our genitalia) it’s not unusual for our brains to categorize a foot, an arm, a shoulder, a jawline, as either masculine or feminine. Centuries of gender binary standards are engrained in our minds and our brains like to, well, classify things. THIS is THAT, for example.
I was reminded by how MANLY and MASCULINE my hands are. This is not a weird brag, mind you. I have never been (obviously) the type of person to gloat about how MANLY and MASCULINE I am. When I do think of masculinity and femininity in regards to my body its always about minimizing my masculine features and drawing attention (or creating) feminine features.
That’s not to say that I am ALWAYS trying to appear feminine. Most of my life I present as a man but I never think about how emphasizing my masculinity. Why? Because I don’t care. Some men want to look MANLY and STRONG and whatever. I don’t give much thought to what HE looks like. I get dressed and that’s it.
But Hannah agonizes over how she looks.
Well, perhaps agonizes isn’t the right word. I mean, she used to. She used to fret about her blockish shoulders or her squarish jawline but for the most part it doesn’t bother her as much as it used to. Spaghetti strap dress? Zip me up!
There are some things I can do to minimize certain features. My makeup artist contours my face to give it a more feminine appearance. Of course, she is not changing the bone structure of my face but foundation and highlighter are modern day potions. I can wear a corset to create a shapelier figure. I can wear a gaff to suppress my feminine flaw.
But my hands? I can’t do anything about them. I mean, I can wear rings or paint my nails to, well, feminize them, but really, those things can only do so much.
I mean, I have to shave my hands. How femme is that?? Gross.
As I looked at my hands I couldn’t help but think that they are incredibly, well, unfeminine. Not that there are standards as to what someone’s hand is supposed to look like to be femme, but you know what I mean. I couldn’t help but think that how could someone with THESE hands be feminine?
And then I realized how stupid that thought was.
To be fair, it’s easy to look at SOMETHING and just obsess over it and let it hold us back. Our hands are too masculine, our Adam’s Apple is too pronounced, we are too tall, our voice is too tall, our frame is too linebackerish…
Cis women aren’t immune to this. I can’t speak for anyone else but I think some cis women have something about themselves that they would prefer to be a little different.
Our gender identity and how we feel about ourselves shouldn’t be held back by one physical feature or even by a dozen physical features. I can’t do ANYTHING about my hands. I can wear a wig, I can wear pink heels, I can have a razer sharp cat eye… but my hands can still palm a basketball.
It took me too long to realize that femininity isn’t the size of my hands or the shape of my face or the color of my lips. Gender begins where it is hidden. It’s in our soul, our mind, our heart. My gender is more than my hands, more than my jawline, more than my shoulders.
Besides, there are more parts of me that I can “feminize” than parts I can’t. I can contour my face so it appears more heart-shaped. I can wear thigh pads to have a curvier figure. I can wear a dress. I can wear stilettos. I can wear a wig. I can wear false eyelashes. I can trim my eyebrows.**
This list goes on.
From a physical appearance perspective, my gender presentation is a sum of it’s parts.
Are there “tells”? Oh hell yes. There are parts of me that broadcast to the universe that I am not cis. And I am 10000% fine with this. Why? Because I am not cis. It’s fine that everyone knows “the truth”, I suppose. I don’t care if anyone thinks I am cis or trans. I don’t give it a second thought. Their opinion has zero impact on me.
At any rate, it’s been a slippery winter. I have slipped hard on the ice three times in the last two weeks and landed on both of my knees on separate occasions. I just hope I can avoid any more unplanned trips to the concrete before my photo shoot on the 25th. Stilettos and leg braces are not a good look.
Stay safe, bitches.
Love, Hannah
*Ten points to anyone who knows what movie this is from
**Of course, NONE of this is required to be feminine. Again, femininity is in our souls, minds, and hearts.
Hannah McKnight 