Journal Entries for Annette Bowser Brunette
Crossdressing Boredom
July 26th, 2008 8:36 am MDT
I posted this a few years ago but it somehow got zapped from my entries.
Boredom? Or maybe a gender late life crisis. I looked in my closet the other day and stared at all my dresses. Shocking but I hadn't worn a dress since January 2008, the annual "First Event" TG convention in Massachusetts. Had my outfits suddenly gone out of style? No. Not really. I just realized that putting on a skirt didn't excite me much anymore. It didn't make me feel more girly. Less masculine, perhaps, but not more feminine. I wracked my brains trying to think of the last time I got really excited about "dolling up." It was back in 2003 perhaps and a genetic woman friend and I attended the Boston Symphony Orchestra in our black dinner dresses. After the concert, we had a lovely dinner at the local restaurant. Since then I've been out clubbing many times but it's never been quite the same.
Like most cd's I became curious about women's clothing at an early age. I won't bore you with the details but it wasn't until 1995 that I began to go out in public on a regular (weekly) basis. I also began electrolysis soon afterwards. No more razors. I haven't shaved my face since '95. Because I was short, small boned and had smooth soft facial features I "passed" well. During my jaunts out in public to various clubs, shopping malls and hangouts I met many wonderful gals. It was quite exciting for awhile. I was in tranny heaven.
Not much happened between '96 and '99 due to cash flow problems. Still I did go out fairly regularly en femme. By 1999 I had hooked up with some good CD friends and we spent more time clubbing and CD getaways down on the Cape. Manray, the local goth/BDSM club really rocked on Halloween and the B & D Ball. Nurses, cops, school girls, scantily clad women and CD's in PVC and leather. You name it, they had 'em all. Being a CD never felt so good and I was, once again, in Nirvana.
Fast forward to 2001. I had, by this time, been out so many times it had become routine. I had always wondered what it would be like to grow out my hair. I got a little good natured ribbing from my coworkers but there's no dress code in the trades. It took a little over a year before I could tie my hair in a ponytail but it was worth it. No more wigs. I knew I had reached the end of my journey when I jumped into a pool in a bikini and soaked myself from head to toe. That should have been the high point in my journey as a cd and it was. For a while.
I got many compliments on my hair. (the "mop") Cd's said that I had it all. Short. Small boned. Full head of hair. No body hair except my lower legs. Feminine face with a soft jawline and no facial hair due to electrolysis. A Cd's dream? Yes and no. Imagine being cross dressed 24 hours a day 7 days a week. Or having a Christmas tree up year round. That's what it was like. Over the years I had been using less and less makeup. Even in drab I looked very effeminite. In fact the only difference between drab and drag was a pair of breast forms. Passing as a guy became almost comical. At a New England Patriots game (American football for those unfamiliar with the NFL) in 2003 the ticket taker told me I had to use the ladies line. (It was very very long and I was with 7 other guys) I told him twice that I was a guy. Finally (at his request) I showed him my driver's license and he apologized and let me through. Even during my day job when I get hot and dirty outside I'd been whistled at by passing cars.
Now none of this means that I'm complaining. Nor do I want to cut my hair short and start looking like a guy full time again. :-( (yech) But it does make me question my own femininity and how much and how often I really feel like a "woman". What it has done is taken away the excitement of transformation. Showering. Shaving. Choosing an outfit. Dolling up. Putting on the wig. I've also noticed a total lack of interest in "super femme" things like 5" heels and long pointy press on nails.
More pertinently, I've come to feel over time, that the feminine role can be just as restrictive as the masculine role. What this means is that physically I like my soft feminine body but mentally I prefer to slip back and forth between both genders. Sometimes masculine, sometimes feminine, sometimes a little of both and sometimes a lot of neither.
I have no desire to transition or take hormones. I don't think about makeup or 5 inch heels or dresses. I just want to be me, catty and negative but real. Amrutta Slee in the book Dick For A Day: What would you do if you had one? once wrote, "I wish men and women, too, had created less cartoonish identities for themselves so we could all relax a bit."
Like most cd's I became curious about women's clothing at an early age. I won't bore you with the details but it wasn't until 1995 that I began to go out in public on a regular (weekly) basis. I also began electrolysis soon afterwards. No more razors. I haven't shaved my face since '95. Because I was short, small boned and had smooth soft facial features I "passed" well. During my jaunts out in public to various clubs, shopping malls and hangouts I met many wonderful gals. It was quite exciting for awhile. I was in tranny heaven.
Not much happened between '96 and '99 due to cash flow problems. Still I did go out fairly regularly en femme. By 1999 I had hooked up with some good CD friends and we spent more time clubbing and CD getaways down on the Cape. Manray, the local goth/BDSM club really rocked on Halloween and the B & D Ball. Nurses, cops, school girls, scantily clad women and CD's in PVC and leather. You name it, they had 'em all. Being a CD never felt so good and I was, once again, in Nirvana.
Fast forward to 2001. I had, by this time, been out so many times it had become routine. I had always wondered what it would be like to grow out my hair. I got a little good natured ribbing from my coworkers but there's no dress code in the trades. It took a little over a year before I could tie my hair in a ponytail but it was worth it. No more wigs. I knew I had reached the end of my journey when I jumped into a pool in a bikini and soaked myself from head to toe. That should have been the high point in my journey as a cd and it was. For a while.
I got many compliments on my hair. (the "mop") Cd's said that I had it all. Short. Small boned. Full head of hair. No body hair except my lower legs. Feminine face with a soft jawline and no facial hair due to electrolysis. A Cd's dream? Yes and no. Imagine being cross dressed 24 hours a day 7 days a week. Or having a Christmas tree up year round. That's what it was like. Over the years I had been using less and less makeup. Even in drab I looked very effeminite. In fact the only difference between drab and drag was a pair of breast forms. Passing as a guy became almost comical. At a New England Patriots game (American football for those unfamiliar with the NFL) in 2003 the ticket taker told me I had to use the ladies line. (It was very very long and I was with 7 other guys) I told him twice that I was a guy. Finally (at his request) I showed him my driver's license and he apologized and let me through. Even during my day job when I get hot and dirty outside I'd been whistled at by passing cars.
Now none of this means that I'm complaining. Nor do I want to cut my hair short and start looking like a guy full time again. :-( (yech) But it does make me question my own femininity and how much and how often I really feel like a "woman". What it has done is taken away the excitement of transformation. Showering. Shaving. Choosing an outfit. Dolling up. Putting on the wig. I've also noticed a total lack of interest in "super femme" things like 5" heels and long pointy press on nails.
More pertinently, I've come to feel over time, that the feminine role can be just as restrictive as the masculine role. What this means is that physically I like my soft feminine body but mentally I prefer to slip back and forth between both genders. Sometimes masculine, sometimes feminine, sometimes a little of both and sometimes a lot of neither.
I have no desire to transition or take hormones. I don't think about makeup or 5 inch heels or dresses. I just want to be me, catty and negative but real. Amrutta Slee in the book Dick For A Day: What would you do if you had one? once wrote, "I wish men and women, too, had created less cartoonish identities for themselves so we could all relax a bit."
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