Just Couldn’t Do It

I never know how different I appear outwardly as compared to my inner self-perception …

Yesterday, I went out for dinner with someone whom I was excited to meet and whom I’d hoped to impress, but try as I  might, I couldn’t manage to feel my true girly self the whole night!

I couldn’t find the right posture, the right voice,  the right mood…

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Past Passing

As I was walking around town the other day, I’d take an interest from time to time in whether people noticed that I was not a genetic girl – was I passing?

Trying to be subtle, I could only guess, but I do believe some people “made” me, though no one said or did anything overt.  It is possible it was entirely in my mind.

More interesting, however, was that I started to realize that seeing how well I passed was more of a sport than anything to me; I didn’t really care. 

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Arguing Like a Girl

The other day, I found myself in the midst of an argument, trying to explain myself to the other person without any success whatsoever. I was driven almost to tears by my inability to get my point across.  It was unbelievably frustrating to simply not be heard!

Of course I didn’t cry, because that’s not something I am wired to do as a guy (or perhaps I have disconnected the wires).  Rather, my grip on femininity weakened and I reached for the man inside to set things straight.  A louder, more authoritative voice and a more aggressive attitude do wonders for getting people to at least hear you.

But that cop-out made me feel quite awful – like I had betrayed my womanhood in some way.

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dream in color

Life Could Be a Dream

As I contemplate my  life – and it all seems so complicated – it occurs to me how simple life is in what I call Disneyland. Maybe, I’m thinking of Mayberry. Or is it Pleasantville?

Anyhow, whichever it is, a boy grows up there all wholesome and unconflicted, finds a local beauty to marry and live with happily ever after, has a satisfying job and 3 kids that came to be in the purest of ways. Everybody is happy. Days are spent in productive efforts and politically correct conversation, and the community thrives. In time, they will grow old and wise, and be surrounded with generations of family and friends, until they slip peacefully into the great beyond, with a contented smile on their faces.

Of course, this is fantasy, but the question is, “By how much?”

I sometimes see certain people on the street that look to me to have come straight out of such a scenario. No doubt, I am projecting, but when I see a young, rosy-cheeked woman in a modest but pretty dress, with a wedding ring on her finger and a necklace with a cross, smiling as she gracefully makes her way to her destination, I wonder…

So, Why Not Me?

Why do I make things so hard on myself? Why do I try to explore all the options, to color outside the lines, to reinvent the wheel? Maybe blissful ignorance and faith in the tried and true is the real path to lasting happiness?

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Stuck Being Me

It was upon looking at some older pictures of myself that a distressing thought occurred to me… and often, as now, these thoughts become the subject of a blog post…

I fear that since I have become more womanly and authentic, I have also become a lot more… well, BORING!

Oh, don’t deny it! imgp0296a_thumb

Was a time, I’d wear pink hair and 6-inch heels…

…maybe a caricature, but certainly better for the amusement of others than what I am becoming – which is a fairly regular girl.  When one is counting on the attention of her viewers and readers, it is not by any means a given that “normal” is a good thing.

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