Parallel Lives

I think one of the most unexpected aspects of presenting en femme is realizing just how different the world becomes. Some things are small and wonderful, like feeling the wind blow through your long hair (if you have a long wig) or the click of your heels against the pavement. 

Some aspects are less than pleasant. In male mode I am not used to, well, being noticed. I don’t really pay too much attention to the people around me when I am en femme. I mean, I notice who is around and assess whether or not they may be a threat or at least annoying, but I don’t spend any energy trying to read their minds or puzzle out what their opinion of me is.

But people do take lingering glances at me. Which is fine. It’s understandable. I am over six feet tall, I am likely one of the few girls wearing a dress, and I am trans. I stick out. When someone sticks out people tend to slightly longer look at them to, well, kind of process who they are looking at.

Again, this is fine. I do this. And it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad thing. It doesn’t mean someone hates me. 

I wasn’t sure what to expect the first time I went out en femme. Well, I expected the worst but I was delighted by how wonderful it was.

However, I didn’t anticipate just how… different I would be when I was out. Ordering a coffee or walking around a bookstore in male mode are not things I give second thoughts about, but doing this en femme was a brand new experience even though I did these same things the weekend before. 

I was nervous, I was scared, I was trying to hide, I was trying not to be noticed. It was strange going from a somewhat confident person to someone who was rather meek. 

But this is all part of our journey. When we strut out into the real world we are terrified and as time progresses and as our adventures increase, we become a little braver, a little more accustomed to interacting with the world as our femme selves… and more accustomed to responding to the world as our femme selves.

This is, in a way, a reset.

We don’t necessarily anticipate this and for me it was humbling to go from being a confident, masculine presenting person to a rather shy girl. 

I don’t think we talk enough about HIS journey. And yes, even boys have their journey. Stuff happens to him. Stuff that has nothing to do with gender identity or gender dysphoria. 

He goes to school where he might be an athlete, or a nerd, or another stereotype. He becomes used to this. He becomes used to interacting with the world as he grows. Maybe he goes to college, maybe he begins a career, maybe he has a family, maybe joins the army, or maybe all or none of these.

Through all this, he has thoughts and perspectives and emotions that were all formed by these experiences as well as by society’s expectations.

It’s possible he would expect this to remain unchanged as he goes through life. He becomes accustomed to his place in the world, to his appearance, to how people interact with him.

It’s also possible you can relate to this. Goodness knows I can. In male mode I never game a second thought to my appearance. I didn’t have a single thought or feeling about how I looked. My reflection was just… well, that’s what I look like.

But when I got my first wig? When I started to wear makeup? That familiar feeling of apathy and indifference about my appearance was destroyed by feeling that I was the ugliest girl in the world.

This is what I mean by a reset.

We can’t expect how we feel in our male lives to be the same about how we feel about our femme selves. We change how we look physically. We are noticed by people at the mall when we are used to being more or less invisible. 

My two lives do not run parallel to each other. The confidence and apathy I feel about his reflection was a far cry to how I felt about Hannah’s reflection in the early years.

So many parts of all this are humbling. So many parts are wonderful. There are surprises, both good and bad, in everything we experience.

Love, Hannah