|Partying poolside with the Viva WildSide girls. May 2013.|
Monday, June 17, 2013
My Fuzzy Denial - a blog for SuddenlyFem by CiCiKitten
I never dressed completely until I was 40 years old. Before that, like most t-girls, i had urges. I had fantasies. I had vague notions of femininity. But I never acted on them and, to be honest, I’m not sure I if would have known how to act on them even if I’d wanted to.
I’ve written about my youth before. I lived in boy world. Three brothers. No sisters. Rural New England milltown. We played sports. We built tree forts. And, in the summer, we played hide-and-seek until the street lights came on. We rode our bike down trails in the woods and we played “war” by tossing pine cones and crabapples as hand grenades.
Were there girls in our neighborhood? Yes. Did we play house? Occasionally. But guys ruled in our neighborhood. Even when we played with dolls, it was action figures and GI Joes.
I’m recounting all this to show just how little motivation there was to be a girl. Or to act like a girl. Or to even think about acting like a girl.
And if you grew up in a typical community with a typical family somewhere in the US around the same time, I’m assuming you had just as little motivation as I did. So was I in denial all those years? Or was I simply not encouraged?
Well here’s the thing... a lot of t-girls grew up under similar circumstances... and they did act on their feminine feelings. They did risk the insults and the ostracization. The ridicule from family and friends. The loneliness. The bullying.
Now I can tell you right from the start, I didn’t have the inner strength for any of that. And I’m not basing that on my hidden femininity. I’m basing that on my entire life. I’ve always been more of a follower than a leader. I’ve always sought the approval of others. (Oddly enough, these traits now help me somewhat as a submissive!)
But if I wasn’t going to blaze new trails or think independently when it came to choosing clothes for school, or themes for lunchboxes, or favorite tv shows and pop bands, then I certainly wasn’t going to be the town gender rebel.
The truth is, most of what I remember about my emerging femininity comes from recalling it. Almost as if I wasn’t aware of it at the time. Almost as if it only became clearer after I matured and gradually began to come to terms with it as an adult.
I clearly remember being very popular in elementary school. I was a pretty good student. I was good at kickball. And I had an older brother who was cool (and I rode his coat tails).
But junior high was totally different. All of a sudden sex entered the picture. Girls’ bodies were changing. Boys’ attitudes towards girls were changing. In junior high it was suddenly cool to talk to girls whereas in elementary school, it was very uncool. But I felt left behind. I wasn’t ready for any of that. Now that could certainly be a personal thing -- having nothing to do with my transgender side. I mean, every kid grows up at a different pace.
But I was really confused. I had no idea what to say to a girl. I had no idea what I was supposed to do with a girl. And, more than anything, I really didn’t feel the urgency that other boys seemed to feel to “get with” girls. I didn’t kiss. I didn’t hold hands. I didn’t go near them. And sex? I didn’t have sex until college.
Was I shy? Definitely. Was I an awkward geek? Absolutely. But was there something more going on? That’s what I can never be sure of. Were my feelings of gender confusion (and, to be honest, my homosexuality), having an effect? And to what degree?
I guess it really doesn’t matter now. I can’t go back. But I’m a curious person. And hopelessly self-absorbed. So I’d like to know.
What was I thinking? That’s something I ask myself all the time. Even now. Especially when I do something stupid. I look back in hindsight and think, “What was I thinking?”
So now I wonder about my transgender nature. As a young child. As an adolescent. As a young adult. I didn’t really come to terms with all of this and start acting on these feelings until my forties! That’s a pretty long time to suppress. Or repress. Or deny.
But I guess that’s what I was doing.
What was I thinking? As I said at the beginning of this blog. I know I had urges. I know I had girlish feelings. But I also had the urge to play centerfield for the Yankees. Or to run away and join some hot rock and roll band like the Monkees or the Partridge Family.
I didn’t act on those urges either. But that’s what kids do. They fantasize about their futures.
When it came to femininity, my fantasies were all very vague. Vague and unformed. And, I think this is important, I simply didn’t have any encouragement or motivation to dwell on them or to “form” them into something. I wished -- as a lot of kids do -- that the rules of the world weren’t so strict. But the rules that bugged me were the unwritten gender rules. It bugged me that the lines of boy behavior and girl behavior were so clearly drawn. I particularly hated the fact that -- for whatever reason -- all of the other boys seemed to know these rules, and I did not. I thought I was just acting normally. Like most kids, I was acting naturally without much of a filter on my behavior. But if I acted too girlie in some way, the other boys on the playground were sure to correct me. Even the text books and teachers of that era were big on clearly defining what boys wore and what girls wore. What boys did and what girls did. (It was the 60’s so I remember the whole “boys have short hair, girls have long hair” issue being discussed at length.)
The world was very black and white. Or, should I say, pink and blue.
So, with all that in mind. Was I repressing? Is that denial? I guess on some level it is. (Okay, on many levels it is.) But I never felt like I was missing out on things. Again, it is only in hindsight that I realize how much I might have missed. On how much more comfortable I could have felt. How much more fun I could have had.
Which all brings me to today. It has been suggested to me -- despite all the fun that I am now having -- that I may still be in denial. That I may still be repressing. They suggest that perhaps I should be transitioning. That for me -- from their observations -- this femininity thing is much more than a “hobby” or a sexual fetish. It is instead who I am.
And that feels very familiar. I have fantasies. I have urges. But should I act on them? Should I take all those risks? (BTW... I’m not knocking my friends for suggesting this. They’re not playground bullies trying to control my behavior. They’re good friends who care about me and want me to be happy.)
So once again, I’m not sure. When I was a young boy, I was having too much fun to think about being a girl. Today, I’m having so much fun as a crossdresser, I don’t think that much about transitioning or going 24/7.
At least not seriously. And once again I’m back where i was forty years ago. Confused. Conflicted. With vague feelings -- still unformed. My fuzzy denial.
Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy.
Posted by CiCi Kytten at 11:49 PM