Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Fearless - A Blog for Suddenly Fem by CiCi Kytten



I am not fearless. Never was. Never will be. 

I felt the need to say that because I get that comment every once in a while. I tell a particular story in my blog or I post a particular pic on social media.  And people write in to say, “CiCi! You’re so fearless. I wish I could be more like you.”

And I have to write back and tell them that if they’re nervous or afraid or downright shaking in their boots, they’re a lot more like me than they think.  Because I’m a total coward.  A big old scaredy cat.

And so are many of my friends. I know some of the most confident and active girls in the world. I’ve watched them get ready to go out, and some of them get as nervous as a newbie.  I think it’s a good thing. Overconfidence can lead to foolhardy behavior. While a healthy dose of fear keeps you on your toes.  


So how did I get here?  How did I go from shrinking violet, wallflower to out-and-about (seemingly) confident tgirl?  Well that’s an interesting story. Actually, it’s a boring story, but I promise to try to make it interesting.  ;)

For me and my “out” persona, being bold and confident comes down to three major factors.  None of which is fearlessness...




1. Calculated risk. 

I’m not much of a risk taker, but i do take calculated risks.  And since I’m still alive and relatively sane and healthy, I think I’ve done a pretty good job of calculating.  In tv/cd world, that means going to safe places. Or fairly safe places. I used to restrict my nighttime activities to trans clubs or gay bars or drag shows. I knew I’d be accepted there.  Since those early days, I’ve expanded by horizons greatly. But I still steer clear of shady-looking places and scary neighborhoods. You know what i mean -- you get a gut instinct.  And I try to follow mine.

I also tend to travel in groups.  There’s safety in numbers.  But it’s also more fun. This has become even more important as I’ve expanded my horizons (as I said above). I’m going to more mainstream venues and events so I never know what to expect. And to be honest, I still get nervous about it. But being with a date or a group of friends helps considerably.

And lastly, I stay in control. This is going to sound a little odd for a party girl like me. But I’m really not much of a drinker. If you see photos of me with a drink in my hand (and there are more than a few pix like that online), there’s a good chance that I’ve been nursing that drink all night long.  Now don’t get me wrong, I love to have fun. And if I’m at a house party or a pool party or riding in cabs or limos (and therefore know that I’m not driving), I’m much more liable to let go.  But, for the most part, I try to stay in control. Besides, it’s hard enough to keep my balance in 5” stilettos while sober.  If I get a bit tipsy?  Chances are I’m going down.

2. Anonymity.

Some of my friends used to worry about being discovered if they went out. They thought they’d be out at some club in Hollywood and one of their co-workers or cousins or friends from high school would stroll into the bar and recognize them.  I just never thought that would happen.  For one, I thought I looked different enough in my wig, high heels and  breast forms to fool even my closest friends.  And for another thing, out of context like that, I don’t think that someone who saw me and thought I looked familiar would ever put two-and-two together. It just always seemed far-fetched to me.

I’ve always felt anonymous when I went out. Not fearless. But anonymous. There’s false courage in anonymity, and I have to admit, I’ve thrived on it.  Yes, I always carry my ID.  And my AAA card in case of car trouble. But I’ve never felt exposed when I’ve gone out.

To be honest, before I came out, I was much more afraid of being discovered and exposed online than in real life. The online world is all tied together.  Social media sites -- often unbeknownst to you -- are constantly attempting to tie your various identities and personas together. And to me, that’s much more scary than a night out with the girls!


2. I didn’t care.

That’s probably going to sound a little odd coming from someone who loves life (and loves trans life) as much as I do.  But there was a time, not all that long ago, when I really didn’t care if I lived or died.  I wasn’t actively suicidal.  (And that’s a much more serious topic than this blog can handle.)  But I wasn’t exactly loving life.  My marriage was on the rocks. My career was down the toilet.  My finances were a wreck. Basically all that I’d worked for for nearly 40 years had been stripped away.  I was functionally depressed.  I kept going to work (because I needed to eat), and I kept walking around like a normal person, but something had died in me.  A light had gone out.

And then it happened. It was like that Janis Joplin song. You know the one:  “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.”  That was me. I had lost everything.  So I had nothing left to lose. Many people who saw me as fearless really just saw a person who didn’t care any more. I didn’t care what my friends or family thought.  I’d isolated myself from most of them any way.  I definitely didn’t care what my co-workers thought.  And I honestly didn’t know any of my neighbors.

So I went for it.  To me, dressing up and going out was my little act of rebellion against my mainstream life. Up until about the age of forty, I’d done everything right.  I’d lived the normal, middle class American existence.  And it had gotten me absolutely nowhere.  So I felt justified -- and pretty much empowered -- to go against the mainstream.  And being CiCi was the perfect remedy.

Now don’t get me wrong. I didn’t just conjure CiCi from thin air. CiCi represents a lifetime of gender expression and personal acceptance.  CiCi was in me from Day One. But my apathy gave her the opportunity she needed to come out.  And the freedom to express herself so boldly.  To hang out in dungeons. To wear daring outfits.  To walk down the streets of Hollywood or Las Vegas at four in the morning -- hearing cat calls, wolf whistles, and more than a few shaming insults  -- and sincerely not give a crap what anyone else in the world thought.  

Believe me, my guy side never did anything so bold.

The twist.

However, a funny thing happened to me on the way to my certain, glorious demise.  I started loving life again. CiCi gave me that. My friends online and in LA and in Vegas gave me that.  My blog and my other writing and my stupid photo posting gave me that. 

Here I was enjoying my life as an uncaring, self-loathing, reckless twit -- and then the world goes and pulls the ultimate switcheroo.  All the fun I was having by not caring made me care again!  

Oh, the irony.

So here I am again.  Fearful as ever. Fearful of losing all that I have.  All that I’ve come to know in this second life.  All that I’ve come to love in this second life. I don’t believe in destiny or fate or even in second chances.  But I do believe in life. I think I always did. I just forgot for a while.

And now that I’ve remembered, I kinda want to stick around.

Fearless? Nope, I never was that.  Reckless maybe. Thoughtless... way too often.  Emotionless? Yeah, I was cold as a stone for a while.  Ridiculous?  LOL... you should see the way I’m dressed right now.  Fifty-three years old and still dressing like a teen fetish bimbo slut.  So yeah... ridiculous might be a good description.

All those things, yes, but never fearless. Fear is a good thing. It means that you have things -- or people -- in your life that you value and that you don’t want to lose.  And even if you don’t have any people or friends or things, maybe you still feel fear because you’ve never lost one very important thing. And you’re clinging to that very important  thing with every last bit of strength you have.

That one very important thing called hope.



Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy.

xoxo,
CiCi



14 comments:

Marie Lamonte said...

Get outta my head! I feel like I just read my autobiography! lol I guess it says that many of use share common experiences and even make similar choices in life.

I guess the one thing I'd add here is to simply re-emphasize a point you made, that there is strength in numbers, even if that number is just 2. Going out is ALWAYS easier, safer, and generally less stressful when you're not alone (not to mention a lot more fun!)

As always, CiCi, your blog is a genuine treat to read. Keep it up! xxoo

Marie

Anonymous said...

Very good writer. Love reading your blog and experiences. I'd love to see what you look like as male. Just curious :)

chris yohn said...

Cici! I have been feeling similarly- not to the extreme as you did, but I can relate. I've done the 'right thing' by studying and staying straight edge but I was slowly going crazy. All I was doing was surviving. Making grades to get through the year and pay for rent/ramen.

Last year I decided to experiment with drag. At first I was careful but I quickly became less disciplined about hiding my girl identity. My girlfriend brought me back. She was afraid I was going to be discovered by her friends or family and it was going to reflect on her for dating a CD. My choices should not cause others grief. I've started caring again.
Love your blog. Keep it up, gorgeous! ^_^

Mindytv said...

CiCi,

You are a breath of fresh air and an inspiration for those of us that have hung back in the shadows for so long.

But you do have one BIG advantage over many of us in that you are in an area where there are relatively safe and accepting venues where you can be all the girl you can be.

For those of us who unfortunately live in the middle of the so called Bible belt in the deep south, home of red necks, bigotry and intolerance, we T-girls have to keep a very low profile to stay safe and in one piece as well as out of jail.

Even in big cities like Houston and Dallas, it is difficult to find TG friendly and safe bars or restaurants, etc. where we can go and just be one of the girls. Still, there is hope for the future.

Thank you for sharing some of your life experiences on your journey. I can identify with all of them including failed relationships, most of which were due to my inner girl self coming out, and sometimes feeling like you just don't give a d*** any more.

And I think you are more fearless than you know because you are willing to take a stand for who you are and not let what other people think, stop you from being true to your self. It gives me something to strive for in my own life. Thanks CiCi

Teri Comstock said...

Cici, I love your teenage fetish bimbo slut look, major hot. I count myself fortunate that I live in Denver where there is a much greater acceptance than many other parts of the country and have been living full time as a woman for almost four years and dressing more age appropriately but, when I want to go clubbing, I am still more comfortable going to the gay bars, and drag clubs because I feel like it is less likely that I will have an encounter with someone who has a violent reaction to a transgender than in straight bars. Strangely enough, in four years I have only had two confrontations due to presenting as a woman and both times they were during the day when I was just going about my business, not in the evening. There will always be some who feel threatened by anyone who is different from themselves. Your tip to always go clubbing with others is wise.

I always enjoy your blog. :-)

Jeremy Dronen said...

Thank you. This was the first time I've read one of your blogs. The subject grabbed me, and made me feel things. As I am still coming to terms with PennyAnn, (my alter-ego),I'm not sure what they are yet.
I just wanted to share a funny story. One day, I went out by myself. Mini skirt, make-up, I didn't even recognize myself at first. I had just walked out of a public parking lot, headed to a movie, or something, and someone I knew went walking by the other way. We made eye contact briefly and he turned and said, "Hey,..." then he looked confused. "Sorry, I thought you were someone else..."

Robyn Jasmine a.k.a. RJ said...

Fearless does sound like a reckless word. But for some of us... being fearless is all we have. It's all I have. I've been intent on a sex change since before I knew it was possible. At the age of 5 (30 now), I knew I should have been a female.

Now, I wasn't always fearless, and I wasn't always bold. However, those come easy when you finally stop caring what everyone around you thinks. But when being bold and fearless is all you have, it's not as glamorous as it sounds. I'm also at that point that CiCi mentioned in this blog about having the light go out. It actually went out completely for a few days. I was ready to give up on my dream of ever getting a sex change--hell, I'm 30 and still struggling to get my FIRST hormone treatment! Basically, my light is like a weak lighter trying to keep the flame alive in a strong wind (and I don't even know how I regained that much).

So I guess I have a question for anyone who's willing to answer it: how do I get this lighter-sized flame, trying to survive in the wind, back to where it once was, burning as hot and bright as a bon-fire?

Rachel said...

I do not share in everyone's enthusiasm. Are any of you giant, hulking men, completely incapable of passing? There is no space in the world for someone like me. If I ever left my home, the only thing the world would see is an enormous man in a dress. It's demoralizing and the depression is staggering. I have no choice but to hide and disconnect. I don't have any friends because I can't let anybody know who I really am. I am lonely but safe.

Robyn Jasmine a.k.a. RJ said...

@Rachel.......

Let me offer you some words of careful advice, and hopefully, encouragement. I'm sure I never faced your problem to the extreme that you describe. But I do have to put some extra work into being passable, nonetheless.

However, one day I realized something important. Now, this may or may not help you, depending on where you stand on the issue - are you merely a drag queen or a woman trapped in a man's body? If you're the latter, it should help.

Being the woman inside isn't about being passable & convincing, nor is it about being the most feminine or beautiful person alive. It's simply about knowing yourself, being happy with who you are, and--most importantly--not giving two left shits about what anyone else thinks when they look at you!

Trust me, you could be the most passable person in the world; get all dressed up and end up looking sexier than any "real" woman. But the second someone discovers you're male underneath all that, they'll STILL just see nothing more than a man in a dress.

It'll take time, practice, and a shit-load of courage, but my advice to you is this: just follow the 3 steps I've mentioned: Know yourself, be happy with who you are, and embrace everything about yourself so that no one can use anything about yourself to hurt you.

I hope this helps, and if I've said anything to make you feel as though I've overstepped any boundaries, spoken about things that I don't understand as though I do... don't hesitate to put me in my place, I know how to take that kind of thing :) But if I've been helpful, let me know how I can be of any further assistance.

m smitty said...

WOW I thought you were writing about me. I just started CD Dec 2012 And love it. No turning back for me, just want to look and feel better every time I go out.
At 53 I was about to just give up nothing was going right but as Marci life is good again. I would like to meet a real girl that could love me as Marci too, But if I don't find that love its OK, Because I love my self again. You are really a hot girl CICI I hope that someday I can look cute like you. My life now revolves around Marci and enjoying life.
Thank you CICI for sharing your story with me. I hope I can meet you in person some day, love to hear more about you
Marci Smith

Rachel said...

Why shouldn't I give a shit what the world thinks of me? Why should I thrust myself upon the world when the sight of me provokes chatter and finger pointing at best, nausea and violence at worst? Love myself, know myself, Tony Robbins TED Talk psycho-academic shit my therapists pitch doesn't diminish an inkling of the humiliation that being a monster in a dress invites. Trans fucking sucks. It's a curse. A rot in my brain, a corruption. I fucking hate this fucking shit and I am way past trying to trick myself into believing there is space in the world for me.

PaulaKay said...

Rachel, try www.tri-ess.org. It is a very warm support and social group, and we have some VERY large members!

Teri Comstock said...

For decades, fear of someone finding out or being outed prevented me from being who I really am. Then, something changed and I found that fear of never having been true to myself overcame all that. My decision was, finally, that I no longer cared who knew or what anyone thought and that moment lifted a tremendous weight. I now, a few years later, live full time as a woman, am on hormone therapy, am preparing for surgery, and am not concerned if someone recognizes male genetic traits in my facial features or what they think about that. Sure, I would love to be more feminine in appearance. I have big hands (so big it's hard to even find a pair of men's gloves my size much less women's gloves) I have big feet (size 12 if you must know) and it's hard to find pretty boots and heels in my size. Transitioning is both the hardest thing I have ever done and the most freeing thing I have ever done. My greatest regret is that I didn't start transition 40 years sooner.

xumeiqing said...

20161010meiqing
nike shoes
replica watches
nike huarache
canada goose uk
ugg canada
ralph lauren
canada goose
longchamp
ugg outlet
cheap jordans