I peed!

Well I passed another little transition milestone earlier this month: using a multi-stall washroom as a girl for the first time. Up until then I'd managed to avoid the stress of doing so through a mix of presenting androgynously enough to use the men's room, strategically planning my pisses ahead of time, and just plain old holding it in.

(And once, if I'm being honest, lifting my skirt and drunkenly pissing in an alley, next to one of my cis dude friends who'd gone with me for solidarity. We were walking to a bar and we'd just been talking about how I'd still be uncomfortable using the washroom there but really needed to go. At first he was like, "you know any girl who has problem with you in the women's room is a bigot, right?" but then he was like, "screw it, let's just go piss in the alley" and I was like, "okay." Ashley is a classy lady, folks.)

But anyways, this time none of those options availed me. I'd gone to see one of my favourite bands, Nightwish, with my brother and sister-in-law. I'd gotten myself all prettied up with makeup and stuff for it too. Between the two opening acts it became plain that I'd have to do something about my bladder. And so I went and milled about where the washrooms were for a while stressing out about it, wishing there were a gender neutral option, and occasionally checking my face with my pocket mirror to make sure I had enough makeup on that people would be able to tell what gender I was supposed to be. That last one's ridiculous of course, but I was really nervous.

I waited until the next act was almost about to come on so that there wouldn't be many people in there, finally said "okay" and walked in. And amazingly, Janice Raymond didn't leap out from behind a stall, labrys in hand, ready to defend the sacred temple of womynhood lest it be profaned by my rod of male energy. In fact, nothing happened. As soon as I was in there I realized I'd been making a way bigger deal out of it than I needed to. It was just sinks and stalls: exactly like the room I was used to minus the urinals. The two people who were in there didn't even look at me. So I went pee and washed my hands and got back to my spot just as the second act was coming out on stage.

The concert was awesome, even though we were pretty much at the back. Afterwards the three of us went out to Denny's for greasy middle-of-the-night food. Fun times.

The three of us waiting for Nightwish to come on. \m/

A few days later I was at a dive bar singing karaoke with a large group of people I mostly didn't know for a friend's going away party. I did the whole thing again: being nervous about it for a needlessly long time, wishing there were a gender neutral option, and then just going and being like, oh yeah, this is no big deal. Presumably this will become a mundane thing soon enough.

It kind of blows my mind to remember that most people go through their whole lives without ever having to think about which washroom to use. I imagine that must be nice.

In which I lose my shit over baby bats

I've now been on hormones for six weeks and I am very happy with how it's going. Before I started I wasn't 100% sure about it (and I think that showed in my previous post a bit), but there is now no doubt in my mind whatsoever that HRT is the right choice for me. It's hard to even say what's different but I just feel... better.

Predictably, the physical changes have been very small so far. Sometimes I see my face in the mirror and think it looks a little rounder, other times I think I'm just imagining it. There definitely has been a bit of breast tissue growth, but it doesn't look like boobs yet— my chest just looks slightly "puffy." My nipples are a little bigger and a lot more sensitive than they used to be. And that's about the extent of it. And yet, even though my overall shape is barely any different than it ever was, somehow it just feel different to be in it. I am much, much more comfortable with my body than I've ever been before.

The only makeup I'm wearing here is a quick smear of lipstick. The fact that I'm happy with a selfie that didn't involve a ton of face effort is a testament to that increasing comfort.

There have been some mental changes as well, though they're a little harder for me to put my finger on. One thing I've definitely noticed, which I was not expecting at all, is a stronger, more visceral reaction to cuteness. It first happened a couple weeks ago: I was hanging out with some friends and for some reason the topic of conversation turned to bats. I brought up a Youtube video of orphaned flying fox pups being wrapped up in blankets. Watching something like that when I was hormonally male I'd have gone "Awwww cute!" and had a big smile. But this time it was more like "OH MY GOD YOU GUYS I ACTUALLY CANNOT HANDLE HOW FLIPPING CUTE THESE BATS ARE!!!!!!" It caught me completely off guard, but it felt like a good thing. Since then I've found other trans women on the internet describing the same experience, so it's not just me. Perhaps the perception that girls, on average, have a greater appreciation for cuteness than boys do has a basis in biology.

I'm still looking for a doctor, but I am so glad I chose not to wait for the medical system to let me through its gates. I'd still have at least half a year of misery ahead of me if I had. At least another six months until I could feel this good about my body or lose my shit over baby bats.

On another matter altogether, I didn't post anything about the holidays at the time, but I'd like to mention them briefly. It was a pretty unusual Christmas this year, both for myself and for my family. My mom was sick and in the hospital for a few weeks, my brother and sister-in-law were out of town, and there were (and still are) some other ongoing issues in my family that I won't get into in the blog. On top of all that, my parents got rid of their dogs, who were also family to me, around the same time. So it sort of felt like everyone was everywhere.

Anyways, I ended up not having any plans on Christmas Eve. I was getting ready to spend the 24th sitting at home alone and drinking, which was a bit of a bummer, when I got a text from a friend. Remember a couple posts ago I mentioned meeting this girl online with whom I was supposed to have a date or something? Well, we never did go out thanks to one thing or another coming up every time. But she sent me a message wishing me a "Merry Christmas Eve!" We started talking. It turned out she didn't have any plans either— she was intending to sit at home with her cat and drink. Since that was basically what I was going to do, we decided to do it together. I drove over to her apartment and we drank and listened to music, and then she taught me how to use a bong and we got stoned and we watched Mean Girls. Not a typical Christmas Eve for me, but lovely all the same. :) I left her place early Christmas morning (after crashing on her couch, nothing exciting lol) to meet up with my dad, then he and I went to visit mom in the hospital. Not a typical Christmas either, but parts of it were very nice in their own way.

Nouvelles lunettes

As of Saturday I can finally see shit regardless of what gender I look like! That is to say, I got a new pair of glasses that don't make me look totally like a man, lol.

If you only know me through the internet you probably didn't even know I wear glasses. The fact is I actually wear them basically all the time, but with my old pair I always took them off for photos 'cause I really hated how they made my face look. I'd often take them off when I was presenting female, but carry them with me in case there was something I wanted to look at. It was annoying having to choose between not feeling ugly and being able to see properly.

Well, I shouldn't have that problem anymore, check it out:

I gotta be honest with you lot, I think I look pretty darn hot in those photos. :P

For comparison's sake, here's how I looked with the old pair:

Yeah... it's a big improvement. I'd had that last pair for three years: needless to say I was still trying to be a man when I bought them. (And they did look good on my face in a masculine way when that's how I was presenting myself).

Incidentally, I posted those first two photos on Facebook. It's funny 'cause I'm still not technically 100% out on FB, but I've obviously stopped giving a shit— I mean like my bra strap is showing for goodness sake. It'd be pretty hard to misread all those gender cues.

If I'm going to be that out on FB it brings up the question of why I haven't changed my name on there yet: my account is still under my birth name. I guess the main reason is that I still haven't told my parents that I go by Ashley, and I don't really want them to learn it from Facebook. It's kinda weird that I've been out to mom and dad for well over a year now and, as far as I know, they're still not aware I even have a girl name, let alone what it is. I definitely need to have that conversation with them and probably should have done it already. It just feels weird, like I'm rejecting something they gave me, and so I keep putting it off.

Anyways, that was Saturday. On Sunday afternoon I went to a friend's birthday get-together at a park. There were a few people there I was friends with, one person I'd only met a couple times, and then a whole bunch of people I'd never met before. I went as myself and it was the first time where I was meeting lots of new people and introducing myself as Ashley.

I wore a vaguely hippie-ish skirt and stuck a bow in my hair, which was fun. :)

This event confirmed something for me that I suspected would be the case: that while I am more comfortable around people as a girl than I was as a boy, I am definitely still pretty socially awkward. Sure enough, changing gender does not change me into a confident extrovert who loves meeting new people. I just went from awkward boy to slightly less awkward girl.

But I think that's actually a good thing. The point of transitioning isn't to become someone else, it's just to become yourself. If who I am is awkward and shy around new people, then maybe that's who I should be.

Pride!!

Guess who attended the Pride parade with her friends last Saturday? Me!

And I mean the actual me, not the boy I pretend to be sometimes. That's kind of a big deal: this was the first time I've gone out and done something fun with my friends while presenting myself as a woman.

I had been quite certain for some time before that I was going to this thing and that I was going as myself. Of all places, being at Pride in the wrong gender would be absolutely heartbreaking. I just wasn't sure if I'd be able to find anyone to go with, but as it approached some friends of mine sounded interested and we made plans to meet there.

The night before I painted my nails in the colours of the transgender pride flag. I actually had to look up on the internet what order the colours go in, lol.

Represent!

Then Saturday morning I woke up and set about choosing an outfit. Part of me wanted to wear something a little slutty, since, you know, the whole "I never got the chance to be a teenager" thing that trans women always say, and Pride's the kind of place where that wouldn't be inappropriate. But since this was going to be the first time some of my friends would be seeing me as a girl, and since I wanted that to seem reasonably normal to them, I opted for a more ordinary outfit: a long brown skirt, a stripey purple top layered over a brown camisole, and my cute black flats. Once I got there part of me wished I had dressed a little more queerly, but I'm sure there will be other opportunities for that.

The parade route was only two blocks from my house. I walked there and, with a bit of texting back and forth, managed to find my friends. I was meeting four people there: only one of them had I had a proper coming out talk with (and that was back when I still identified as a crossdresser), another one I was confident knew I dressed as a girl sometimes but we'd never specifically discussed it, the other two I didn't know how much they knew or guessed. But when I got there, no one even batted an eye at my presentation, like it was so normal it wasn't even worth mentioning. Which was the best possible response, as far as I'm concerned.

I may not be "officially" out to very many people, but I make basically no effort to keep my identity a secret, so I guess it wasn't much of a surprise. Plus, my friends are all pretty open-minded to begin with. I am so grateful to live in a time and place where I can just be myself without necessarily having to worry about all the logistics of coming out beforehand. As great as that is though, I still hope to come out to these folks pretty soon: they've seen me dressed as a girl, they may as well know I identify as one too. I'm sure they won't be surprised then, either.

The parade itself was pretty cool, although I didn't manage to get any good photos. The Society of Edmonton Atheists had a giant Flying Spaghetti Monster and signs that read "Smile, there is no hell!" It got pretty quiet when they went by so, being the non-believer that I am, I made sure to cheer extra loud. (Of course atheism has nothing specifically to do with Pride, but neither do any of the many churches and other religious groups that were also represented, so I think it was okay).

After the parade the whole festival moved to a nearby park where they had like entertainers and food vendors and all that stuff. We walked there and got some lunch. Wearing layers and a long heavy skirt turned out to be a bad idea: it got up to 27°C (81°F) and I was sweating like crazy. But it was still a lot of fun hanging out there.

The un-cropped version of that photo is the five of us sitting at a picnic table— (I don't want to tell everyone about this blog just yet, so I had no way to ask if I could put their faces on it). The next day I kept going back and looking at it almost in amazement, like Wow, that's actually me, just hanging out with people like it's no big deal.

Afterwards three of us walked back to my house (well okay, one of those guys is my roommate, so his house too) and watched the soccer match between Canada and China, which was actually taking place right here in Edmonton, which seems crazy to me, but whatever. By that point the clothes I'd worn had become pretty uncomfortable, what with the heat and the fact that my push-up bra was digging into my sternum— (it works fine when I wear actual breast forms, but because those would've shown over my neckline I'd settled for balled-up socks this time)— so I changed into a lighter skirt and t-shirt and a more comfortable bra. Had a couple beers, grilled some veggie hotdogs, enjoyed the beautiful weather...

Later in the evening we met back up with the other two people we'd been at the parade with, plus two friends of theirs I hadn't met before, and we ended up all going out to a bar and dancing. Here's the thing though: by then it was late, I hadn't shaved since the morning, and that fact was becoming pretty obvious. I really didn't want to go as a beardy girl, so I had to make a quick decision between switching to boy mode and going with them or spending however much time it would take to shave and redo my makeup and then meeting everyone else there. I wasn't even sure where we were going, so I chose the first option.

And like, dancing's still fun, even in the wrong gender, but I felt weird about it. You see, there was this girl I met there, and I danced with her for a good chunk of the evening. After a few songs she and I were dancing together in a manner that was, like, fairly sexualized. And on the one hand, it's a positive thing that I'm finally starting to feel comfortable expressing my sexuality: between my gender stuff and the conservative Christianity I practiced for so long, I've had a shit ton of issues to deal with to get to the point where I can do something like that; (granted, I've still never actually had sex with anyone, but I'll get there eventually). But afterwards I realized: she obviously thought I was a boy 'cause that's how I was presenting, she's most likely straight, and she probably would not have been into that at all if she'd known I was actually a girl. Ick. It made me feel really gross, like I'd deceived her.

I don't want to do that again. What I do want now is to go out dancing as a girl, and preferably at a queer venue where I can meet queer girls. That's like, on my list of things to do now.

Still, in spite of that little hiccup at the end there, overall it was a fantastic day. Definitely can't wait until I get to just be me all the time. :D

Ears

Oh dear, I've sort of been neglecting this blog lately, but I've got a bunch of different things I want to write about so hopefully I'll be getting back into it.

Let's start with my ears— specifically that I got them pierced last weekend! That's something I've been meaning to do for ages and only just now finally got around to, and I'm very happy with how they look. :)

Ta-da!

The actual piercing didn't really hurt much, but at the end of day, once I'd kind of forgotten about the new bits of metal in my head, I carelessly took my shirt off and was like OHGODWHY...

I guess pierced ears aren't really a gender thing per se: lots of boys have them and lots of girls don't, and even before I began questioning my gender I'd considered getting it done. But they do give me the option of sticking feminine jewelry in there, which is just one more cue I can use to help people read my gender correctly, so that's nice.

On an unrelated note, I just finished reading Nevada by Imogen Binnie and I absolutely loved it. Like seriously, if you want to read a novel with realistic, complicated trans characters, you should check this book out.

"Are you a dude?"

And my technicolour bag threw off the whole outfit!
Grrr. Some day I'm going to invest in a black purse.

I was walking to the bank yesterday, about two blocks from my house. I had decided to femme it up a bit with a tunic, tights and silly high heels.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" said a guy at a bus stop as I waked by. When I didn't stop he continued, somewhat more urgently, "ma'am? Excuse me, ma'am!"

Suddenly I realized he was addressing me. "Uh, yeah?"

He gave me a story about not having enough money for the bus and asked if I had any change to spare. For the record, I'm pretty conflicted about giving alms to panhandlers. I'm sure it does nothing to treat the actual causes of poverty and often just enables bad habits, but at the same time I find it really hard to say no when I'm asked. For better or worse, I gave him a dollar. (Incidentally, I feel like I get panhandled more often when I'm presenting as a woman. Is that, like, a thing, or am I just imagining it?)

As soon as I started talking to him I saw a look of confusion cross his face, slowly replaced by one of dawning realization. Afterwards, as I was turning to leave, he asked me, very straightfowardly: "are you a dude?" Phrased more politely, this might have been: what gender(s) do you identify with? And that, of course, is precisely what I'm trying to figure out myself.

To borrow a line from The Lord of the Rings, that question "needed a week's answer, or none." I chose the latter option: I gave him a smile, said "maybe!", and continued on my way.

This exchange confirmed two things for me that I'd previously suspected. It confirmed that I do pass as female, at a glance, at least some of the time. And it confirmed that I'm quickly read as male if someone's actually paying attention to me, and especially if I'm talking to someone face to face.

Oh well. As much as part of me would like to pass all the time, the good thing about not passing is it means being visibly trans, which helps raise awareness that people like us do, in fact, exist in the real world.

Becoming real

It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder...

—Regina Spektor, The Call

Not so long ago, the female version of me existed only on the internet and in the confines of my bedroom. "Ashley" was a name I used here and in a crossdressing forum. I would dress as a girl in my room, but I was still in the closet to my housemates, so I couldn't even open the door. I would snap some photos and post them online so that I could be seen by someone, somewhere.

But as I've been coming out to more people and going out into the world, that has been changing. Now, as Ashley, I've felt sunshine on my face, and grass beneath my feet. I've been smiled at by strangers (and once pointed and laughed at, but I won't dwell on that). And last Sunday I had two more important experiences as part of this gradual process: I introduced myself as a girl to someone I'd just met, and I visited my mother.

According to the website of my local Pride Centre, there's a trans social mixer that meets there the last Sunday of every month. I'd been wanting to get involved in the community, and to interact socially as a girl, so I decided to go. And oh my goodness was I nervous. Meeting new people and being in new social environments just scares the shit out of me. I parked my car around the block and spent nearly ten minutes sitting there just convincing myself to go through with it. But I when I finally walked through the door I discovered I needn't had been so nervous: I was the only one to show up.

The only other person there was one of the people who run the centre. He told me that the guy who organizes the mixer was running late, and that he doubted anyone else would come. "Now that it's summer and the weather is nice, the number of people attending this thing has dropped," he said, "but you're welcome to stay and see if any one else shows up."

I decided I'd wait for a bit. "I'm Steven, by the way," he offered. (Not his real name.)
"I'm Ashley," I said. We shook hands.

I'm Ashley. It was the first time I'd said those words out loud. The first time someone had known me by that name outside of the internet.

I chatted with Steven for about fifteen minutes before I left, but no one else came. It was kind of disappointing. Having made the effort to look like a woman I didn't want to just go home. I texted my mom saying I could stop by for a visit if she wasn't busy, and gave her the heads-up that I was in girl mode. (My dad was out of town for work.) She said I should come over, and that my brother and sister-in-law were there too.

And the whole experience was actually very normal. We all just hung out like we usually do: our regular, goofy selves. The only time the subject of gender even came up was my ma noting how the dogs made no distinction between boy mode and girl mode, which lead to my sis-in-law and I wondering whether animals would notice if someone were on HRT. I'm so glad to know I can be myself around my family.

I wore my locks in a bandanna: sort
of a transy pirate look, I guess? :)

Like Regina said, it started out as a feeling. At first my female self was nothing more than a vague sense that something was wrong. Then she was a hope, then a reflection in a thrift shop mirror, then a girl in a photo with an unspoken name, then a smiling stranger passing people on the street. At last she's meeting people and hugging her mother. She is becoming real.

At first my male self was nothing less than an unquestionable reality— all I knew and thought reasonably possible. Then he was a weight whose absence I could imagine, then a prison whose walls I had walked briefly beyond. At last he's rapidly crumbling around me.

And I look forward to a day when he is nothing more than a memory.

Little things

My previous post was kind of mopey. Hopefully this one will balance that out a bit, 'cause I'm feeling pretty good right now! :)

It's not the result of any big accomplishment or anything: just a bunch of little things. But sometimes the little things can matter a lot.

First of all, I mentioned before that I was having headaches and fatigue— it turned out I had a bad sinus infection. I saw a doctor about it and got prescribed some anti-biotics and am feeling much better now. (I didn't talk to the doctor about being trans; I figured I'd deal with one issue at a time).

Secondly, I finally got around to painting my nails and shaping my eyebrows after a long time of not doing either. Those seem like such superficial things, but they really do help me deal with the gender problem. I'm always surprised by how much better I feel with pretty nails, and by how much easier it is to see a woman's face in the mirror when my eyebrows are arched. I've also been making an effort to shave every day, which of course is tremendously helpful.

And lastly, I've started to be ever so slightly more out on Facebook. There are a number of people in my life whom I interact with primarily through that website, and, as in any social context, I want to present myself to those people as the person I actually am. This slightly increased outness includes posting a link to a brilliant trans-themed music video by the band Arcade Fire (which is by far the queerest thing I've shared on Facebook), as well as updating my profile picture to something that looks decidedly feminine (at least to me).

Feminine and kind of artsy!

So yeah. I have nothing particularly exciting to report, but a bunch of little things have conspired to make me happy the past few days, and for that I'm grateful.

Struggle, decision and hope

Today it's really hard. And it's not just the gender issues, it's a whole bunch of things. I've always suffered from depressive episodes and I seem to be in the middle of one right now. I've also been having headaches and trouble sleeping for the past two weeks. And now that school's done I need a summer job, but I haven't found one yet and I'm running out of money.

And as much as I'd like to think that all these other problems would magically go away if I were living as a female, I know that's not the case. So I can't even really blame gender.

Aaahh bare shoulders aaaaaahhh!!!
(Actually I look pretty good here, I think)

I did get manage out in girl mode once last week. In fact, I'm kind of proud of myself: it was my first time going out with bare shoulders and bare legs. I felt a lot more vulnerable not having all the layers to bundle up in like I did during the winter. But it was a beautiful day, and it felt so good to take in the sunshine as me. I'm not under any illusions of having passed, but I did get called ma'am by a cashier. That was nice of him. :)

On Saturday I was at a restaurant with a couple of friends. I think our server might have been trans. She was certainly tall enough for it, not to mention the broad shoulders, huge hands and small bust. She was very pretty.

Envy isn't the right word for it, but there's a certain feeling I get when I see other trans women having the courage to be themselves. And every time I do it's one more nagging voice saying: Ashley, you need to do something about this gender problem. And while that tends to trigger the dysphoria, it's also kind of inspiring. (The same thing happened when my classmate at school started presenting female.)

And that brings me to the question: what am I going to do about it?

While I still haven't totally figured that out, I have made one decision: I need to get to a point where I can function normally before I go back to school. I failed a lot of classes these past two semesters, and most of the problem was my inability to focus on anything when the dysphoria struck. It doesn't make sense to keep throwing money away on classes when I'm not dealing with the issue. So I'm going to see a doctor sometime soon-ish and maybe start counselling. I'm going to return to my local support group. And I'm going to start electrolysis.

That last one just makes a lot of sense. I've realized that even if I decide not to transition (which seems unlikely), I'm still never going to actually want a beard. Even if I am just a feminine male (which I doubt), I still have a gender identity that's incongruous with facial hair. So transition or not, electro is a good idea.

What this means is that I won't be going back to school in the fall, since I can't afford both that and hair removal without going deeply into debt. I might go back to school in January, or I might just take a whole year off from academics. We'll see how it goes.

I'm also starting to reconcile myself to the fact that HRT may be in my future. There are a number of reasons why I don't want this. The biggest one by far is my desire for biological fatherhood— I want babies!!— but also lots of little fears about the phyisical and emotional changes that would take place. But at the end of the day if you need HRT you need it: it's not like gender dysphoria gives a shit about your hopes and fears.

So yeah: I'm struggling today. I'm pretty darn depressed. But I can see the steps I need to take (find a job, see a doctor, start electro...) and for now that's giving me something to work towards. So, in a way, I guess I'm sort of hopeful too.

They say it gets better. I hope they're right.

Out in the sun last week.
See, I was happy then at least! :)

A fantabulous night!

I wore a dress for New Year's Eve! In the eight months I'd been crossdressing it was the first time I'd ever worn one, as unbelievable as that may seem. I should clarify, it was the first time I'd worn one as a girl. I'd tried on dresses in boy mode, but that's not the same thing at all.

Carson and Jamey (that's my brother and his wife) had me over at their place to ring in the new year. None of us are the sort of people who really enjoy large parties or spending loads of money at bars, so we figured we'd have a little get-together just the three of us. And just for the hell of it, it was decided the evening would be a formal affair. After all, they both enjoy dressing up fancy, and I hadn't yet had an occasion to do so as a girl.

On the day before I managed to pick out a gorgeous dress that, for some reason, actually fit well and looked good on me. That night I was so excited about wearing it the next day I could hardly sleep! I'm a bit silly like that, I guess. :) The following afternoon I bought some fabulous shoes and jewelry to go with it. I even went so far as to buy some of that shapey hose stuff, which, ironically, ended up being the most expensive part of my outfit.

I arrived at their apartment in boy mode that evening. Jamey and I did our makeup together. She helped me out a lot, and insisted I use several of her products. I learned a lot from her, and my makeup definitely looked better than it ever has before. It was a ton of fun, too!

...aaaand this is what I looked like! Possibly my favourite photo of me ever! :D

Then the three of us had a delightful evening of sushi, boardgames, and drinks, though we missed counting down to midnight because we were busy discussing how Jupiter's gravity causes gaps to form in the asteroid belt. (Yeah, we really do talk about geeky stuff like that, I'm afraid). And it was such a relief for me just to be in the right gender, especially after all the stress I had spending Christmas at my parents' house.

The three of us looking fabulous. (Posted with their permission)

I can't express how grateful I am to have those two in my life, nor how much I appreciate that I can be myself around them. In fact, there was a much more important "first" that night than just my first time in a dress. It was also, technically, my first time presenting fully female in front of them. It's just that, we reached that point so gradually I don't think any of us hardly noticed. Over the months since I came out to them I've let them see increasingly feminine iterations of my male presentation (once even wearing heels in boy mode!), so that by the time they finally met girl-me, it wasn't a big deal.

At one point during the evening I apologized to Carson for how weird it must be having a crossdresser for a brother. (Of course I know I can't help being trans, but I still feel culpable somehow). He shrugged it off: "It's a little weird, but whatever." Then with a smile he added, "You're a crossdresser, but I'm more feminine than you are!" My brother is not a typical "manly man" by any means, and his point, I think, was that I wasn't the only one with an atypical gender.

Depending on your definition of femininity, and that's a very difficult thing to define, he might even be right. I'm a bit of a tomboy; he's a bit of a pretty boy. In the end it probably doesn't make sense to compare one person's femininity to another's, since it's something each person defines for hirself. But it does go to show what a complicated, convoluted thing gender is.

Also, SUSHI!!

It was a great night, both in terms of fun and gender expression, and I'm thinking I just might need to find more excuses to get all dressed up!

Another little milestone

Today I left the house as a girl for the second time. But unlike last time, when I walked around a quiet neighbourhood in the evening, this time I strode down busy streets in broad daylight. In fact, I walked right down to the nearby grocer and picked up something for lunch. So now, not only have I left the house as a girl, but I've also accomplished a real-world errand, even if it was just a small one. That, I feel, counts as another little milestone on the road to... well, wherever this is going.

I dressed very casually, of course. It warmed up above freezing today, so I didn't have to bundle up. I made sure to walk with confidence, keep my head up and make eye contact with people.

Casual!!

I'm sure if anyone had looked closely, they would have read me as male. But people at the grocery store aren't walking around thinking about gender; they're thinking about bread and milk and eggs. At a quick glance people probably assumed I was a woman and didn't pay the matter any more attention. In any event, I didn't notice any stares or double-takes, so I must not have stood out; (though maybe folks are just polite?). I went through self-checkout, so I didn't actually have to speak to anyone.

It wasn't overly thrilling or exciting, nor was I particularly nervous: I just felt like an ordinary girl buying herself some lunch. It's funny: just eight months ago I went to a different store, dressed as a boy, and bought a single tube of cheap mascara— my very first purchase as a crossdresser. And I was terrified. I went through self-checkout then too, and my hands were shaking so bad I could barely enter my PIN on the Interac machine. I've certainly come a long way these past eight months! :)

I (finally) left the house as a girl! Yay yay yay!!

Yesterday evening I went for a walk around my neighbourhood as a girl, and it was lovely! The snow was falling softly, and made for a very peaceful winter's night. Even if I passed I must have looked kind of silly clomping through the snow in my heels, stopping now and then to take selfies. But that's okay, I enjoyed myself, and that's what matters. (Only a crossdresser wears heels to go for a stroll, right?)

One of my roommates was home when I left. I'm sort of in a glass closet to my roommates: I haven't "officially" come out to them, but I make very little effort to hide who I am and I suspect they kind of know already. Nonetheless, I've decided I don't want them to see me as a girl until I've had a chance to explain why I crossdress and make sure they're comfortable with it. Thus, in order to get from my room to the outdoors I had to do a bit of sneaking. Just to be on the safe side, I left the house in my boy shoes, climbed into my car, put on my girl shoes in there, then got out and went for the walk. Kind of a silly extra step, but whatever.

I only really got nervous once. There was someone behind me and I wanted to stop to think about which way to go, but was afraid of them catching up to me. Instead I just kept walking. Overall the experience was very liberating: being out as my female self, doing something in the real world. The closet, even a glass one, gets pretty stuffy after a while.

A liberated woman! ♥

Not unusually for a winter in Alberta, it was a chilly -11° C out. The cold compelled me homeward sooner than I might have liked.

Two things have resulted from this little excursion. One is that I feel more confident and comfortable with myself. Before I always felt a twinge of embarrassment talking about my crossdressing with either of the males I'm out to. Today I brought it up casually in a conversation with one of them like it was no big deal. The other is that I've decided I need to buy some winter-appropriate feminine footwear: walking through snow in heels is kind of stupid and a little dangerous...

Anyways, let's hope this is the first of many such outings!

Ungendering Facebook

I use Facebook quite a bit. I'm on there at least once a day, and for a number of people in my life, it's my primary means of keeping in touch. (Whether or not this is beneficial is debatable, but that's a different topic.) Like anyone, I want the persona I project online to reflect the person I feel I am. I recently made two small changes in Facebook-world that I feel very happy about.

I'm now they instead of he. This was surprisingly complicated. Facebook, ostensibly, does not allow users to unspecify their gender, nor does it provide any non-binary options. You have to choose a gender, and it has to be male or female. At best you can choose not to display your gender on your profile, but it will still refer to you with gendered pronouns based on your choice. However, it used to allow gender to be unspecified, and still retains the functionality to use neutral pronouns. With a bit of screwing around and some help from this thread, I was able to outwit Facebook and force it to stop gendering me: take that, Zuckerberg! :) I'm honestly surprised by how much better this makes me feel.

"themself"

(For the record, I'm not a huge fan of singular they either, though that has nothing to do with gender and everything to do with linguistic pedantry. Even so, I'd much rather be mispluralized than misgendered.)

The other thing I did was to change my profile picture. My last one had been up there for nearly three years, largely because I'm never really happy with pictures of boy-me (for obvious reasons) and I'm still mostly closeted about girl-me. My new picture is, in fact, a photo of girl-me— I was fully crossdressed when I took it— that's been carefully edited. It's cropped so that my boobs are out of the frame, and desaturated so that my blush and lipstick are nearly invisible. The result is that it doesn't scream "crossdresser," but looks much more feminine than its predecessor, replete with beard and bushy eyebrows as it was. And I feel so much better, knowing that the face I'm presenting is that of the real me.

Boy? Girl? Who knows!

Purple! ♥

Way back in this post I mentioned I was thinking of dyeing my dreads. Well, guess what I finally got around to doing last weekend?

Ta-daa!!

It came out a bit darker than I wanted, but overall I'm pretty happy with it.

When I started crossdressing I wondered whether dreadlocks would be feminine enough. I considered cutting them off and using a wig until my hair grew long again. Then I learned of the beautiful and talented film director Lana Wachowski— and watched this— and realized a trans woman can actually look great with dreadlocks! And so far that knowledge has kept my scissors at bay. Well, that and the fear that having short hair would seriously aggravate my gender stress.

It's funny: I often forget I have an unconventional appearance. Sometimes I'll be out walking somewhere and wondering, "Why does every one keep looking at me? Do I have something on my face or what?" Nope, I just look different, that's all.

Different and beautiful! At least that's what I tell myself...

Today was a very different day than yesterday. Yesterday I was as depressed as I've ever been about my gender. I managed to go to my classes but otherwise pretty much spent the day in bed. Today however, I set aside time to get all pretty, (and took the photos you see here), and I feel so much better having done so. It was the first time I'd fully crossdressed in over a month. I guess expressing my gender makes me happy!

Being seen and affirmed

Because I've started telling people, I am partially out of the closet. But because I have yet to leave the house as a girl, I suppose I'm still mostly in. Last week I did that thing that seems to be one of the hallmarks of a closeted crossdresser: I got myself all girled up and started snapping photos in my room! Sure, it's a bit silly, but I had a lot of fun with it, so who cares?

Afterwards I posted a few of the better ones on a crossdressing forum that I occasionally visit. The ladies there are far, far too kind: they all had very lovely things to say and pretty soon I was blushing. I guess compliments make me happy, who knew?

But of course it was about more than just compliments: it was the first time I'd ever really been seen as a girl by anyone, even if it was only over the internet; and their response was an affirmation of who I am. It's surprising how much being seen and affirmed can matter to someone.

Me being a tomboy. Someone else referred to this as "criss-crossdressing."

I've started school now and it seems to be going well, though it's a little strange being so much older than most of the other students.

There's a "queer social group" on campus called OUTreach. Yesterday was their first meeting of the term, and I forced myself to go. I didn't want to. I knew it would be icebreakers and I hate that sort of thing. Though I love people, I am unfortunately very shy, awkward and anxious when it comes to meeting new ones. But I went anyways.

And it was good. While I was biking over there I kept thinking, man, I'm gonna be the only person there who's not gay. I also kept thinking man, I'm gonna be the only "boy" with painted nails, since I had applied some sparkly blue polish earlier. And while I was right about the nails, there were a couple of other people there who had queer gender identities rather than (or in addition to) queer orientations. So that was cool. Hopefully in the future I will be able to get to know them better: I really need to have people in my life whom I can talk to about this stuff, and who can understand some of what I'm going through.

Overall I'm glad I went. Afterwards though, I couldn't stop thinking about how much I would rather have gone as a girl!

Three years of matted hair!

[EDIT: In the time since writing this post I've come to recognize that it's problematic and culturally appropriative for someone like me to use the term "dreadlocks" to describe my hairstyle. However, I've decided not to change the wording of the post, (except for in the title), because it reflects the understanding I had at the time.]

Three years ago today I sat in a chair for seven hours while my friends backcombed my hair with a metal flea comb. And I haven't touched a hairbrush since! This was the process of beginning my dreadlocks, and since then they've grown thick and started to actually look pretty good.

Here's what they've looked like over the years (most of these pics are boy mode):

One month - still just kind of a mess

Eight months - starting to take shape

Two years

Now (and in girl mode!)

Because I've had dreads for longer than I've known I was trans, I've never had a chance to wear wigs when I crossdress-- (I can barely fit a bicycle helmet over these things, I'm pretty sure wigs are out of the question!) On the one hand I love the idea of using my real hair, and it's convenient that dreads are a unisex style. On the other hand, I'm missing out on playing around with more feminine styles.

Three years is a long time to have the same hairstyle. I'm not ready to cut them off yet, but maybe soon I'll try dyeing them pruple or something crazy like that!