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One of the reasons I sometimes doubt the authenticity of my feminine side is that I find myself almost with a feeling that I am observing myself.
I have many things to remember to do differently in order to be the woman I imagine myself to be, and there is a sort of internal dialogue going on sometimes as I evaluate myself.
That doesn’t seem natural and so I start to get a sinking feeling that if it takes so much effort, it may just be that I am putting the whole thing on. I start wondering whether it is simply an exercise in self-deception.
But, I probably should cut myself a little slack here.
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After some time as a guy, it has become a bit easier to notice some of the differences in the way being a woman makes me feel.
Long gone are the days when I would dress to turn myself on. Was a time, I would look in the mirror and see a hottie (my opinion only) staring back at me, and that was enough.
These days, I dress appropriately to the task of meeting and attracting others – friends acquaintances and others – and functioning in society while expressing my own personal style.
As I have been flittering through my home, I realize that being female means being aware – of oneself, of one’s environment and of others.
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I decided to make a trial run of my return to being Janie today.
I don’t know why I chose this particular moment; I had to rush like mad to get ready if I was to make my appointed rounds. And, after so long, I wasn’t sure whether I would remember everything – the makeup, the jewelry, the purse, the walking, the voice. But, I had decided, and when a girl makes up her mind, there’s no reasoning with her.
Or, maybe that’s just me.
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Some of you may be wondering, as one reader asked me the other day, why “all this self-doubt has surfaced.”
First, I thank all of you for your concern and encouragement. But, don’t worry, I’m not despairing.
The truth is, I have kinda forced the issue…
I have been Janie for some time now, and for the most part, I have just let things unfold as nature would have them unfold, and took it as it came.
I have followed a well-worn path of first dressing alone at home, then, feeling the need to get out of the house, I started going to clubs and finding out-of-the-way shops and cafes. I started posting photos and thoughts on the internet, feeling that the vastness of the world-wide-web offered sufficient protection to my identity – that those I knew would be unlikely to run across my images – and that has held true, so far.
But, as Janie develops, I have found that it is never enough.
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After more than two weeks of uninterrupted manhood (slightly impurified by the Janie duties to which am committed and to which I had to attend) I tentatively put my toe in the waters of femininity today.
I am just wearing short workout shorts and a cropped t-shirt and running shoes, but, for the first time in a while, I am allowing my feminine persona to emerge a little, just to feel what it is like. I am still not certain whether the experiment of being a guy is over, but I wanted to see the difference, if only for a day.
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