An Email Inbox is Like a Box of Chocolates

I tend to stop looking at my phone at around 8pm each night. When I wake in the morning I start checking my email and go through a combination of work related messages, spam, notifications, and emails to Hannah that have piled up overnight. Messages can be everything from my boss freaking out about something that he thought of at one in the morning or a notification that someone “liked” my photo on Flickr. My email is a weird merging of all of my worlds and lives and gender identities.

Sometimes Hannah gets an email and I get… a feel for what the sender was possibly experiencing when they wrote it.

What I mean is that when I get an email from a very overwhelmed and lonely spouse reaching out to me about their crossdressing husband, their message is sometimes very personal. You can FEEL the emotion, the sadness, the frustration, the confusion, the desire to understand their husband.

On the flip side, sometimes it takes a few tries for me to follow an email as it’s filled with typos and grammatical errors which leads me to think that this person was emboldened by alcohol when it came to plucking up the courage to write the message.

No judgement.

When I drank I was often… hm, more comfortable doing certain things. So, I get it. I can relate.

Sometimes an email can be confessional, like they just HAVE to tell someone something. Like they have this desire, this need to come out. Again, I get it. I’ve been there and sometimes I am back there again. Sometimes an email is someone just telling me, telling SOMEONE about their fantasies or gender identity or the panties they have tucked away in their sock drawer.

And to be clear, not every fantasy is a sexual one (but I get plenty of those as well). Sometimes the fantasy is one of the many that I have… shopping for a beautiful gown or being a bridesmaid.

Sometimes the fantasy is my reality and I am reminded that wearing panties every day is a dream for others and I am probably taking my underdressing for granted.

Sometimes an email is someone confessing their… love, their infatuation with me. Annnnnnd I am not, hm, bragging about this kind of email. It doesn’t take much for me to feel that someone has crossed a line in their language to me. I am easily unnerved when someone says they are obsessed with me.

“Obsessed” catches my attention in a very particular way. It can be used in a few different ways and context is everything. If someone emails me and says they are obsessed with lingerie, girl, I can totes relate.

But if you’re obsessed with me? Um. Don’t.

For starters, your obsession is going to be very unfulfilled and it’s best you try to move on. Secondly, obsession can lead to… ah, scary stuff.

Again, I am not bragging in a veiled way. The O word puts the sender on my radar. It’s different than someone saying they have a crush on me. That feels pretty harmless. But an obsessed person is potentially dangerous.

And to be fair not everyone who uses this word is a threat. They probably aren’t. I tend to use words in the right context but very much an exaggeration at times. Again, I am obsessed with lingerie but it’s not like I am consumed by thoughts of stockings and corsets. It’s not like I can’t function in my every day life because I am too busy thinking about bras and matching garter belts.

Guys obsessed with me is one thing. A guy wanting to WORSHIP me is another. And yes, it happens. And no, it’s not flattering.

It’s not a word I see pop up very often in an email and when it does I tend to think that the sender, ah, means it. I am not really comfortable with being a “celebrity”, let alone being someone that a person wants to “worship”.

Annnnnd let’s break that second braggadocios sentence down. I don’t want to be misunderstood.

I am aware, often awkwardly, that I am fairly well known in our little world. As of this writing my website is the third result that Google provides when “crossdressing” is searched. I have been doing what I have been doing for a while and my writings and reviews for En Femme and other designers have elevated my profile.

I have come to terms with this and I am comfortable with my… ah, status. It’s mostly harmless and rarely do I feel that my… hm, career isn’t within my control.

It’s not a stretch if I am considered a celebrity our little world but please understand that I don’t think of myself in that way. Lord knows I am humbled often in my day to day life. But like a lot of words, such as obsession, ‘celebrity’ can cover a lot of ground whether it’s Taylor Swift or Lady Gaga or Harry Styles or RuPaul. I am not in that pantheon. Not by any stretch.

I’m just an over-thinking t-girl with a laptop and a fabulous wardrobe.

Regardless of whether or not I am prolific or a celebrity (God, no matter how much I cringe from that word… it still always sounds like I am bragging), I don’t want to be treated like one. I know as a six foot tall t-girl I am going to stand out, so I dress how I wish and blending in be damned. But when it comes to everything else, I just want to interact with everyone, online or in real life, as just a girl. I have always been uncomfortable with compliments and praise, even if it’s my boss in a rare moment telling me I did a good job on whatever project.

But getting back to the email situation that I referenced a zillion sentences ago, I received a message from someone who suggested I become a domme so they can worship me.

So, that is not going to happen. I am not going to be a domme. Do you have any idea how expensive that would be? I would need a “dungeon” and the equipment and the furniture and all of that. And let’s be realistic, many people who see a domme do so for a sexual/fetish/kink reason. I do not want to do anything or engage with anyone where that person is getting aroused by it.

I have no interest in doing anything that is kinky or intimate or sexual (even just emotionally or verbally) with anyone.

And I am soooo uncomfortable with the idea of being worshipped. I can just imagine it. Sitting on a chair while some dude lays at my feet? My god, I can’t imagine a more boring scenario.

I suppose my point is that none of who I am is a fetish/kink or a sexual thing. I know that going outside of gender norms is very erotic to some and I know that some people find girls like us very sexy but I don’t want to be a willing participant in someone else’s fantasy.

Love, Hannah