I bought one of my only “girlie girl” pieces of clothes last night. I mean, I have “girls clothes” but to see me in anything other than a tomboy get up of jeans and a t-shirt is rare. Occasionally I will wear a dress, but I’m always very awkward in them.
Why so awkward if you like girlie clothes?
I don’t feel like I’m pretty in them. My self esteem is a bottomless pit that I consistently work to contend with. I rarely wear my heels because I’m already 6’1″ and a little more than tired of “damn you’re tall.”
Thank you for the observation. I never noticed. I thought I was a midget oompa loompa.
I don’t dress super girlie because I don’t like my perception of myself, it feels… weird? Odd? Wrong? I’m not quite sure what word to use. But why? Well…
I guess, in a way, it’s a form of self punishment. I don’t think that I could possibly be pretty enough or feminine enough for the rest of the world, because I’m trans. I would like to be comfortable in cute, feminine clothing. I would like to wear it more often and not have to actively work to make my skin not crawl due to being uncomfortable in what I’m wearing. It is difficult to get the idea that I am wrong, simply for existing, out of my head.
I mean, it’s not that all my experiences have been negative. Most people think I’m cis, which is what I want. Apparently, according to the outside world, I’m pretty enough to get all the cat calls and shit other women get. Which, I’m not a fan of, but I can’t say that it isn’t momentarily validating… That seems a little fucked up. Anyway, I’ve had a lot of come ons (especially from guys… Girls, help a girl out here?) but I still feel like I look like the typical trope of “dude in a dress” *which is so entirely fucked up, but that’s for another time*
I hate feeling this way, but I’m having a hell of a time getting past it. I just want to wear dresses and heels and makeup and feel…
Like the woman I dreamt so often I would grow up being.
Little did tiny little Ivy know just how off base and unrealistic that woman was (for one, she was short. No one is in my family. For two, she had brown hair, I don’t have brown hair. Then there’s the whole having hips (which I don’t) and breasts (which are growing. Ow!)
I had a hard time as a kid. Growing up in the 90s, the only media that I got that involved trans individuals was… well… Jerry Springer or the usual nasty tropes. This doesn’t exactly help in the whole self esteem thing, seeing as I didn’t have any positive role models to help me wade my way through this when I was a child.
Not a single fucking one.
All I got was a bunch of psychotic masculine people in dresses. Or psychotic masculine people in girls clothes tricking guys to get into bed with them. Or psychotic masculine people trying to stalk people in the bathroom. Or sexy as fuck women that
SURPRISE! HAS A DICK! INSERT PUKING, HARASSMENT, AND ASSAULT HERE. Which is all absolutely acceptable in media, even now, but much more so in the 90s.
A really good example of this is in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective. The police chief is this particularly sexy woman, whom also is known to get around. She starts making out with Ace, and he feels her up, finds the bulge, and the perfectly acceptable response, that was just funny as hell?
He wretches all over the place, just about passes out, claws at his mouth completely freaking out, then to top it all off, right in front of all the other officers in the building, he drops her pants to the floor to expose her genitals to the rest of the crew, who all begin clawing at their mouths and puking their brains out as well. *EDIT* I forgot that he also uses the bathroom plunger, the fucking toilet plunger, to try to suction out his mouth. What the hell?
In what other circumstance would it be acceptable to forcibly show someone else’s genitals to a whole room of people, just to embarrass them, and “expose” them?
Media can be a very big deal. I don’t think it’s the be all end all, but when the only media that you ever see when you grow up shows you that you are some fucked up, twisted, sneaky, perverted creep who obviously has some serious fucking mental issues… Well… It’s hard not to believe those things about yourself.
It’s getting better though. I have hope for the next generation of trans people. They get to see wonderful, lovely people like Jazz. The get to see success stories, like many of the restroom arguments that have come up.
Which I’ve always wondered… I’m just trying to take a piss. Supposedly I’m the looky-loo creeper, but the whole entire conversation is based around my damn genitals. Who’s the creeper at that point?
It’s hard not to be jaded. Sometimes I look at the positive media that’s around now and think “if only I had that.” I look at the hormone blockers to keep puberty from happening… When I first found out about those, I bawled my eyes out. If only. If only when I was younger. I wouldn’t have had to contend with… with…
Just, please, be nice, be kind. You don’t have to understand. You don’t have to like it. Is it really worth making somebody else’s life miserable? Is it worth helping perpetuate ideas and feelings like I’ve described that I have for myself?
I want to feel pretty in girlie clothing.
I want to show childhood me positive media.
I want to be self accepting.
It’s so hard in the first place. If you don’t want to help, at least don’t get in the way.
Have a beautiful day.