more thoughts on becoming femme
I think for me the rejection of my femininity has been somewhat out of fear, for my own protection. I knew that if I obscured my feminine figure I could lower the chances of unwanted attention from jerks. A fire always rises up in my belly, burning for justice, when some man thought I would appreciate his lewd comments. Not even that. It’s that (maybe even unconsciously) they use verbal abuse to subdue me. To exert power over me. Over Us. To raise his own self esteem by lowering mine. As if the shape of my body determines my value.
So. It’s been kind of. Interesting to re-invent my femininity in ways that are comfortable for me. You know. I’m not so sure I like the high heels thing. Especially with my bad knees and back issues. And rather than dresses and lace all the time. I absolutely love the look of very snazzy business attire. I was admiring myself in the mirror yesterday, trying on my one and only blazer which I used to wear for work. So. Sexy. I love a woman in a business suit. I don’t even care how the present gender. I just think it’s hot. 😉 But I’m still feminine in my button-ups and pinstripes and sensible (or not) shoes. I’ve been growing my hair out long again. I cut it shorter than I ever have in my entire life – my best friend and I went out and had a haircut for locks-of-love. Right after my father died. It’s taken my this long to get it back to my shoulder blades. I’m going to let it keep on growing and growing until I get tired of it. I’ve never had hair above my shoulders in my entire life until that point. It was very freeing. But I’m more comfortable in long hair. I love how it gets so messy, yet I still look like hotness.
But the most important thing has been to stop comparing myself to heterosexual femininity because… the standards are different. I just don’t measure up. Don’t care to.