Wednesday, November 23, 2011
The Beginning of the End - By Cici Kitten. Blog for Suddenly Fem - Crossdresser.com
I’ve been meeting a lot of new girls lately. Here online. Out at clubs. Maybe because of this blog. Or maybe because of the fact that I spend way too much time online, and post photos of myself on every available website known to man -- but I tend to hear from new girls a lot. Some are just starting to dress. Some are considering going out for the first time. Some have been out once or twice. But they all have questions. Lots of them! Just like I used to have. So I try to help – just as the more experienced girls helped me when I was starting out. It meant the world to me then. I mean, it literally changed my life.
I still contend that I’m not an expert. (My friends tease me because I still apply my makeup with my fingers! Some day I’ll learn how to use those amazing new devices they call -- brushes!) So I still have a lot to learn myself. But after five years of being out and about in LA’s active scene, I hope I’ve learned a few things.
So I do my best to help them. But I wonder if they know how much they help me. I get such a charge out of the new girls – particularly the girls I meet out in clubs. You can practically feel the electricity in the air around them. The excitement. The nervousness. The combustible combination of both excitement and nerves! If I spend a few minutes with a new girl, it all comes back to me. The memories of how scared I was. How nervous I was. But also… how determined I was. Because let’s face it, no typical male in typical American society straps on a pair of high heeled pumps, slithers into a skintight mini, and heads off into the night without a certain amount of courage… and a whole lot of determination!
I especially remember the relief I felt once I was at one of LA’s tgirl clubs. I’m always a little tense out in the world. But inside one of those clubs… you feel the sisterhood… you feel the music… you feel the drinks(!), and you start to relax. These clubs were the only places where I could be out in public and feel accepted. The only places where I could truly be myself. And that’s when that TGE sets in… T-Girl Euphoria! That amazing high you get from being dressed up, glammed up, worked up – and just plain fed up with trying to be normal. It’s that moment when you feel the “girl” in you come to the surface. When she takes over your body and soul. When you finally feel free.
For all of us former closet cases, it’s a feeling like no other. And it’s particularly strong in newbies – the girls who are experiencing it for the first time. It’s intoxicating. And it always makes me smile. (Unless of course the newbie is a skinny little, pretty little, cute-as-hell 20-something, in which case I usually respond in an embarrassing fit of jealous rage and green-eyed envy.)
But all those exciting beginnings ironically bring me to my next point: Endings. I have a lot of friends in their 40’s and 50’s – and the topic comes up from time-to-time. When am I going to “retire”? When am I going to call it quits? When am I going to hang up the heels for good?
For me, … even though I’m now looking at my 40’s in the rear view mirror,.. I still feel like I’m just getting started. So I’m not thinking about “retirement” at all. But I have to tell you, some of my friends feel differently.
Now, to be quite honest, my friends and I are not on the TS path. We aren’t looking to transition. We have no intention of living 24/7 – and we never did. For the most part, most of my friends are what I would call “party girls.” We go to the clubs, the fetish events, the tgirl parties – but, for the most part, we don’t get involved in heavy relationships or political lobbying or any of the more serious aspects of tg life. This is more of a hobby for us. We like to dress up, go out on Saturday nights, dance our asses off, and hope that we can somehow drag our sorry butts back into work on Monday morning.
We’re also – if we’re completely honest – a little bit superficial. And I mean that in the best way possible -- if there is a “best way” to be superficial. But what I mean is that we try very hard to look good. To maybe turn a few heads when we enter a room.
Certainly not the most noble motivation in the world. But that’s who we are – fun, sexy, superficial girls. And, for what it’s worth, damn proud of it.
(To be honest, I’m selling myself and my friends way short by calling us superficial. The truth is, most of these girls, as men, have professional careers, active lives, and are wonderful husbands and fathers. Most of them are extremely thoughtful about everything they do – including their dressing. All I’m saying is that in our approach to our T-life, we’re really just hobbyists. We’re in it for the fun and the thrill of dressing up and feeling girlie for a few hours.)
So like I was saying… we like to turn a few heads. But the question is… what happens when the heads stop turning? When we no longer get all of those sweet compliments on our profile pix? What happens when the focus really does go to the hot little 20-somethings I mentioned above?
And it’s not like this problem is specific to tgirls. GG’s have been going through this same, depressing aging process for years. In a way, I guess this is the downside of the life we’ve always craved… the girlie life. And as any real “girlie” knows – it’s hell to get old!
So what will we do? Give it all up? Cling desperately to our youth? Or gracefully allow ourselves to mature and pour our energies into some of the other aspects of tg life? (I imagine that there are other aspects of tg life – apart from trying to look hot. It’s just that, as a superficial girl, I have no idea what those aspects might be.)
But perhaps I should look into a few of them.
I guess what my friends will do is what they’ve always done… they’ll be themselves. And that will lead them down whatever path makes the most sense for them. We all got into this for different reasons… and with different motivations… so I guess, in a way, it’s only fitting that we exit the same way.
As for me, after a lifetime of gender-related frustration followed by five or six years of pretty intense CiCi-ness, I don’t think I could ever just walk away. Even in sensible shoes.
I just think that eventually my life will have to change. And at that point, I can either leave the scene or find a new role. Helping new girls. Getting involved in event planning or may be even doing some of the (horror of horrors) tgirl political stuff I’ve always avoided. I mean, after all that this life has given to me, I really would like to give back at some point.
So what do you think the cut off date is? When is it time for girls of a certain age to stop going to clubs, stop trying to shout above the music, and, literally, evacuate the dance floor?
I guess like everything else in this crazy, complicated, make-it-up-as-you-go-along world, it’s an individual decision. It’s a feeling that just comes over you. Like any other Saturday night. You look around, you finish your drink, you glance at the clock, and you just know… it’s time to leave the party.
Take care out there!
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy.