The point is… fear is not mutually exclusive of bravery. Femininity is not the absence of masculinity. Love is not the opposite of hate. Strength and vulnerability are not mutually exclusive. While I stand behind my words stating the psychological and physical components of self can all live mutually exclusive from social “norms” expectations and assumptions, the true note to take away from that statement is that our birth biology or gender identity is not a presupposition or limiter of who we are at out true hearts and minds as individuals.
What is there to do in this new quarantined era? Do we need to return to our closet? What happens when your wife knows and supports your feminine side, but, now, you play host for an unexpected extended family as they exodus from the hotter epicenters?
Recently, I was reminded about something I had previously written about and had been exposed to on many occasions… but had forgotten about completely. I have spent much of my Savannah time away from crossdressers, interacting with the larger LGBTQ world and the general public over the last two years. There is a difference between masculine and feminine energies while dressing.
I didn’t expect it. Savannah was meant to be a periodic feminine gender expression. I didn’t realize her visibility would be an example to others to follow.
“I have a few transgender friends. They want to know what needs to happen for people to no longer be ‘clocked’.” It was a brilliant query, in my opinion. This young man was speaking on behalf of friends who feel that all eyes are on them. And, that those eyes are appraising and judging them.
I was prepared. I swear I was. I checked the American Airlines website for what was allowed in carry-on luggage. I made sure of the restrictions for the size of the make-up I could bring in the same quart-size bag. I made sure of the dimensions of my single bag and personal bag. I even made sure of what make-up was allowed in the cabin and what my breastforms and hip pads would be considered as a class of products (they are considered prosthetics, btw). I had it all figured out… or, so I thought.
We are surrounded by people every day—from work, to drivers sharing the road, to friends and family, to neighbors living across the street and behind the white picket fences. Unless you are living in a cave or on an expanse of ranch acreage that takes hours to travel, we have people around us in some capacity. And, that is not necessarily a bad thing. The human animal is a social one, typically more comfortable within a vicinity of others than being in isolation.
t the meeting, I told the group that I was going to use this Pride Month to be more visible in a different way. While social media and the news outlets are talking all about the parades and the marches and festivities, I decided to take the message of Savannah to the mean streets. Of course, I am not foolish enough to do something drastic, but some would say what I am doing is drastic… and foolish.
Have you ever heard the saying “Always wear clean underwear. You never know when you’re going to be in an accident”? I always laughed at that statement. It seemed so trivial a statement. But, what do you do when you are a male-to-female crossdresser who wears feminine underwear 100% of the time?
Well, it happened. The bag finally appeared in the “to check” conveyor lane… waiting to be unzipped and rifled through. I had panties and a bra in there! There was a pair of strappy heels and a wig in there! Gulp! I explained again what they would probably find in the bag and what probably set up an alert to what was found in the x-ray machine. They tested the hip pads for residue. And, it got a hit! What the what? They took additional swabs for the hip pads and additional swabs for the breast forms…