It’s been a while since I’ve had an opportunity to get out in public as Gabrielle. My wife, the fabulous Mrs. H., recently took me shopping at one of the local malls. It marked the first time we ventured out in public together, while I was en femme (not including drives we’ve taken in which I did not exit the car).

My public outings have had mixed results in the past. To increase the potential for a more successful outing, I took some drastic measures this time, or at least drastic for me.

In order to draw less attention and increase my odds of blending in with the crowd, I did something rather undesirable. I wore pants. I hate pants. It may be crossdressing cliche, but I really do hate pants. Women have been wearing them for several decades, but I just don’t feel very feminine in pants, even women’s pants, or skin-tight jeans in this case. At least I looked good in them, according to my wife. I do admit, my legs still have a nice, feminine shape in jeans (thanks to my daily treks on the treadmill of doom), but it’s not my style and I wasn’t happy about it.

The activity was shopping, but this outing was mainly an experiment in blending in – something I’ve failed to do in past public outings. I like to dress nice. What I consider “dressing nice” and “looking good” falls under the category of dressing “sexy” in the eyes of many people. We’ll spare my gripe with how society tends to frown upon “sexy” these days, but that is my preferred style and how I feel best.

What I wore
My outfit consisted of tight bluejeans, black knee-high boots (flat, not high-heeled), a black turtleneck sweater, and an outer black button-down sweater (that fell just below my hips) over it. My only accessories were a gold crucifix necklace, and basic black purse. I toned my eye makeup down dramatically and was careful not to over-do it on my blush. Mrs. H. and I had similar looks going on, each wearing black tops, tight bluejeans, flat (non-heeled) black knee-high boots, and black purses.

I snapped a few quick photos on the way to the mall while my wife drove, one of which you see at the top of this post. You can see her long, black hair draped over her right shoulder at the right edge of the photo. Sorry about the lack of a bull-body photo of how I looked in what I refer to as “fem-drab”. I didn’t feel compelled to capture my image in this less than desirable style. Update: Scroll down and click on the thumbnail image at the end of this post to see how I looked in the pants I wore.

As much as it pained me to dress down, it did help in terms of not drawing attention. As I’ve stated before – I do not pass in person. Don’t let my pictures fool you. In two dimensional photos where I have more control over things such as lighting and the angle in which I’m viewed, it’s a lot easier to appear passable. In person, angle, depth perception, and less than ideal lighting conditions easily reveal my feminine shortcomings.

Just friends, not lovers
When in girl-mode, my wife prefers I behave like a friend, rather than romantic love interest. It’s understandable, as it should draw less attention in public that way. Even so, my arm kept finding its way around her shoulder somehow. Muscle memory, old habit, or subconscious need, it was quite difficult to keep from showing romantic affection for her while we were out. I never realized how automatic (and frequent) my spousal public shows of affection are, nor did I expect it to be so difficult to refrain.

Mrs. H. did a good job of helping me feel more comfortable out in public. She coached me on “feminine shopping behavior”, mannerisms, posture, and appropriate facial expressions. Yes, facial expression is an important point to her, and I agree. As a not so youthful genetic male, my face doesn’t look very feminine on its own – even when coated with gobs of makeup, carefully applied so as not to appear like “gobs of makeup”. I have to try to keep a “perky” look on my face, which includes a hint of smile, that does not appear to be a full-out smile. Walking around with a constant smile on my face would just be weird. It was tricky, but I did my best to pull it off.

One thing that was no different from any other shopping experience with my wife was that I ended up carrying all the clothing items picked out as we browsed. As a loving spouse, in guy-mode or en femme, I am always happy to do so.

Blending in… more or less
My attention was a bit divided. My wife kept trying to get me to behave and act “naturally” (which included browsing through clothes), but I couldn’t help but try to look at each and every face around me for signs of being “read”. Most people seemed to be completely unaware, which is exactly what I wanted. That was the point in dressing in “fem-drab”. So long as people don’t look directly at me, and there was little reason for them to, I would remain just another body in the crowd.

I did not go completely unnoticed, however. As my eyes scanned about, I did notice a handful of people who appeared to have read me. There were at least a few occasions in which people reacted directly to my presence.

Deer in the headlights
Shortly after entering the mall, in one of the main hallways, two teen boys (maybe early 20-somethings) walked in our direction while conversing with each other. Our eyes met briefly. A few yards away, their conversation stopped abruptly and I got a rather obvious look of surprise. Just after passing by them, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Their eyes open wide, almost popping out of their heads, and jaws hanging open in surprise, was rather humorous.

Nice boots
In the clothing store that we spent most of our time browsing (it had clothing styles we both enjoyed), I was approached twice. A young male sales associate came up to me and commented on how he liked my boots as he showed me his own boots… women’s boots. Footwear was his only “female” attire as far as I could tell. He read me, and we read him as well, though not as a transgender in his case. He was an effeminate, stylish, gay man. With only one or two exceptions, I’ve always clicked well socially with gay men and women. They’re pretty open-minded and cool, or at least those I’ve had the pleasure of knowing over the years.

I did not actually talk to the sales associate because Mrs. H. jumped in and began chatting with him, believing he was commenting on her boots and not mine. I stood by and smiled while they talked for a minute or two. There was some hesitancy on my part to chat with strangers on this day, which I’ll explain later. Even though I didn’t participate in the brief conversation, it was still a cool experience. He knew I was trans and was genuinely welcoming to me – perhaps more so because of it. How I wish that could be the case with everyone, or at least the majority.

Excuse me, ‘miss’…
After our shopping in this store was concluded, Mrs. H. and I quietly conversed with each other while waiting in the rather long, slow moving check out line that extended back some distance. After some time, another shopper approached me and asked me for some assistance. She was in her late 50′s, I’d guess.

“Could you tell me what the price on this is? I forgot my glasses and can’t read the tag.” “Seriously? That’s her approach?”, I thought to myself. I almost busted out laughing… again. It was a rather obvious attempt to get me to speak so she could confirm whether or not I was a “real” woman. The moment seemed like it was ripped right out of a Seinfeld episode. Smiling larger than life and trying not to laugh, I leaned over to look at the price tag. Just then, Mrs. H. intervened and “helped” the woman read the price tag. My wife’s intent was to “come to my rescue” and prevent a potentially uncomfortable moment. I love her so much for that. Had she not been there, I would have “played along” and probably gotten “probed” a bit further by this curious woman. Her polite, if obvious, approach to “reading” (or confirming) me was amusing and probably well intentioned but I knew it was best to not converse with people on this day. It might have been a great opportunity to engage in a potentially educational conversation, but I was filled with a mix of nervous energy and adrenaline and very much off my game.

An alarming reaction
Shopping bags in hand, Mrs. H. and I slowly made our way through the mall’s large hallways. As we walked and chatted, my eyes continued scanning about looking for signs of being read. Most people seemed not to notice, and that was very pleasing.

At one point, my eyes met the eyes of an oncoming man who was walking in our direction with his young daughter. He was about 5′ 6″ (noticeably shorter than I), very thin, and probably in his mid 30′s. I looked away to be polite. A moment later, I looked back to find him still starring directly at me with a rather odd look on his face. He pulled his young daughter close to him, pressing her against his body, as if to protect her from imminent danger, and quickly altered direction into the nearest store entrance. Our eyes remained locked for several seconds during his “escape”. The “odd look” on his face appeared to be that of fear, perhaps anger. I’ve gotten nasty looks from people before, but never the look of fear, if that was what he experienced.

I asked my wife if she caught his reaction, but she was looking in another direction. I explained what I saw – a worried man attempting to “protect” his young daughter from… well, me. Mrs. H. tried to convince me that I misinterpreted things because I was nervous. Well aware of my own nerves, I disagreed.

It took some time, but I think I figured out what really took place. The over-protective father probably did experience a genuine sense of fear. The fear was not of me however, but rather of his own daughter. More accurately, he likely feared having to explain what I am (as a transgender) to his daughter had she gotten a look at me.

I understand his discomfort in context with where much of society currently sits with things. Even so, his reaction was cowardly and unnecessary. Children look up to their parents for guidance. If they sense discomfort in their parents about something, they will in turn learn to become uncomfortable about it themselves. My own parents were very uncomfortable answering certain questions when I was a child. Consequently, I “learned” that these things were just “wrong” – even to simply inquire about. Looking back, there was nothing wrong with most of the things that made my parents uncomfortable. I’ve made it a point to remind and embarrass them about it in recent years, mainly in jest.

It is sad that certain realities, perfectly natural and quite harmless, are still taught to be immoral or flat-out “wrong” in the eyes of impressionable children. This is a topic best suited for another concentrated discussion… or many discussions, however.

An interesting learning experience
Our mall shopping concluded, Mrs. H. picked up a few tops and a dress. A single new miniskirt was in my bag – not exactly much of a wardrobe expansion, but finding things in my size (mainly tops), AND in styles/colors that I like, is no easy task. In addition, I was quite distracted with my “people watching”.

For the record, I quickly changed into my new miniskirt upon arriving home. I couldn’t get out of those pants fast enough. It felt so good to feel “normal” again. I am literally laughing as I share this, but it’s true. The skirt looked very nice on me, too. Again, my apologies for not having photos.

Although it was a good learning experience, I’m not pleased with many aspects of the outing – mainly how it felt (or how I felt during it). My attempt at blending in by dressing exactly how I do not like to dress did work to some extent. The cost of blending in was that I didn’t feel very feminine, even under all that makeup and completely in “women’s” clothing. I didn’t feel like myself. It almost felt like I was “playing dress-up” (“dress-down”, in this case) or wearing a costume. Have you ever felt really awkward or “not right” because you dislike what you’re wearing, regardless of gender expressed?

Feminine vocalization issues
According to Mrs. H., I was unable to produce my feminine voice properly, which she noted as we quietly talked to each other while shopping. That was, to some extent, why I was hesitant to engage in conversation with anyone. I practiced my feminine vocal exercises for about 10 minutes in the car on the way there. My wife got a big kick out of that, and even I am laughing as I reflect. Maybe the vocal exercises were not long enough, or perhaps I was simply not feeling enough like myself to properly feminize my voice. Many crossdressers do not try to hide their male voice, however as Gabrielle, I do not aim to be a “crossdresser”, but rather a trans-woman, if only part time. I’d rather not get into the “labels” and “terminology” debate right now, though. This write-up is already triple its intended target length.

Analysis, Mr. Spock
I’ve got a ways to go yet, in terms of blending, acting “naturally” and feeling comfortable out in the “wild”. A controlled environment, such as a planned gathering where I know people or have a specific purpose, is a lot easier for me right now. Life is a growth process and this part of my growth has been stunted for a long time. I’m playing catch-up, though it’s moving at a very slow pace – mainly due to lack of time and opportunity to get out and grow. My own feelings and emotions are under constant psychological self-analysis. This trip out gave me a lot of good data to sift through, odd as that may sound. It’s something we all do, although I sometimes speak about it in direct analytical terms.

What’s your story?
For those of you who are more advanced than I when it comes to public self-expression, what have you discovered in terms of successfully blending in? Those of you who have yet to venture out in public, what keeps you from doing so? Please take a moment to share experiences, thoughts and ideas.

Update:
Click the thumbnail to see how I look in pants. The outfit in this photo is different than when I went out shopping with my wife, but from the waste down, including the boots, that is what I wore. I’m not a fan of wearing pants, but I don’t look too bad in them. Honestly, I look a lot better in these kind of pants than a lot of genetic women half my age who squeeze into them… but of course, I have to exercise my fit little butt off to achieve it.

After a productive outing to see my therapist as Gabrielle, I wasn’t quite ready to call it a day. I decided to take a stroll through a local mall. I’d driven to this mall a few times en femme, only to remain in the car out of fear of being harmed.

This is part of my personal growth process. I need to become more comfortable being Gabrielle in public and interacting with others as such. My primary objective for this mission (it’s more fun to think of it as a mission *grin*) was to make at least one purchase before leaving the mall. My secondary objective was to walk the entire mall before leaving, but it’s a rather large mall and I wasn’t sure about the feasibility of that in my high-heel boots.

Before my mall-trek was over, I received a rather unsettling reminder of the very real potential for danger in public crossdressing.

Enter the mall
I used the Macy’s entrance. There were several available close parking spots there, and that location was less likely to have groups of teens hanging out inside or near the exits. I walked slowly around Macy’s sales floor, trying to find my stride. It took a while for me to hit it – shoulders back, chest out, wiggle my hips (my wife always tells me to wiggle my hips more). Eventually I got it down… more or less. I’m growing and learning… mainly learning to walk like a woman at this point. It’s very different in large, open areas than it is in the confines of my home.

From Macy’s, I entered the mall’s main hallway. There were more people than I was expecting at that time of day (not that you can tell from the misleading photo), but it wasn’t crowded by any means. My focus remained on trying to walk with proper feminine movement.

Trouble dead ahead
Continuing down the mall’s main corridor, I entered the “dead” part of the mall. There are several vacant stores in this area, and usually fewer customers browsing. One of many kiosks was directly ahead. From several meters away, I noticed the 20-something looking men working behind the counter staring me down. The look on their faces was that of anger, disgust, and dare I say – hatred. Still several meters away, I clearly heard one of the employees make a rather derogatory comment about me to the other guys, one of which appeared to be a male customer. It was spoken loud enough for me to hear it from meters away – indicative of the intent to send me a clear message.

The encounter was chilling. Never before had I actually been looked at with such an obvious display of disgust and hatred. I feared these guys may attempt to harm me as there were very few other eyes in the immediate area and I was an easy target dressed as I was.

In an upcoming post, I’ll share what business these guys work for and what was said. I wrote a letter to the CEO and explained how representatives of his company chose to send me a very clear message of intimidation, and so openly in public. You’ll probably want to check back for this one. Chances are, many of you regularly do business with this company.

Catastrophe averted, moving forward
Once sufficient distance was between myself and the bullies, I tried to ease up and work back into a more natural stride. Determined not to let these small-minded thugs scare me away from my right to be out in public, I tried to concentrate on my personal growth again.

The large display windows of the stores offered a good way to observe how I walked in their reflection. They also allowed me to keep an eye on my back side, should anyone decide to approach with bad intentions.

Mission objective – engage
I made my way to a store called Hot Topic. For those unfamiliar with the chain, it’s known for its generally gothic and alternative styles. It is frequented by people with generally non-mainstream appearances and run by easy-going, open-minded people.

Two young women who appeared to be in their 20′s were on duty. They greeted me as I entered and I smiled and said hi back. Running low on black nail polish (my personal favorite) I looked around for some. I asked one of the women if they had any, and she pointed out that they had a single unit left. I spoke to her about how easily my black nail polish chipped off and she said she has the same problem. After offering me some helpful advice on application methods (what works best for her), I purchased the black nail polish and was on my way.

Mission objective accomplished
The experience was a pleasant one and my first purchase as Gabrielle went without a hitch. Although I felt awkward the whole time, the store employees were cool to me and treated me with respect. They both read me immediately as I entered – their eyes widened momentarily in surprise. It is a telling look I’m getting used to seeing on people, and an understandable reaction – especially in an area where it is very uncommon to see (noticeably) transgendered people in public. I think it’s important to point out that the women were aware that I’m a t-girl (emphasis on the “t”), did not laugh or act uncomfortable around me, and treated me very well.

Continuing mall exploration
As I walked down toward the other end of the mall (opposite where I encountered the haters), I noticed an increase in teenagers hanging out in groups. School had just let out and this is a popular place for teens to meet up. It made me a little more nervous, but I decided to keep moving forward (away from my entrance point).

Checked out or scoffed at?
I approached a small kiosk with a young male employee working there. He was carrying on a conversation with what appeared to be a buddy. I got nervous approaching, thinking back to the “tough-guys” who gave me trouble earlier. One of the men said something odd as I walked by, but I couldn’t tell what. It may have been just a sound or something – perhaps he was checking me out and made some kind of sound to indicate that? It’s unknown if the sound was made in sarcasm or in approval… or if it was even intended for me. Without looking back to find out, I kept walking.

Obnoxious sales attendants
The next kiosk was larger and occupied by two male employees who appeared in their early 20′s. Both were well dressed and slightly more approachable looking than the jerks who gave me trouble earlier, though I did not want to interact with them. Unfortunately, they wanted to interact with me. One of them called out to me, “Excuse me, miss, what kind of phone do you have?” I was wearing my phone’s hands-free ear piece, it was visible, and this was a cell phone retailer and service provider kiosk. Attempting to ignore him, I kept walking. A few steps farther, now with my back to them, he called out again, “Excuse me miss, can you tell me what kind of phone you use?”. He was talking louder at this point as I was continuing to walk away and distance myself. “Miss, we’d like to talk to you.”. Now several meters away, I turned my head back over my shoulder toward them, smiled and politely waved so as not to appear rude. The young man called out one more time, “Miss, could you come back here, please?” These guys made me very uncomfortable. Maybe they didn’t read me. Maybe they simply saw what appeared to be an attractive woman and just wanted to talk (and sell me a cell phone)? If they happened to get a good look at my face, chances are they read me easily (like the others) and may have been trying to have some fun at my expense. I didn’t know for certain, but didn’t want to chance it. In order to get back to where my car was parked, I’d have to walk past them again in the other direction, which I did not want to do. Instead, I headed for the nearest exit to walk outside and get to my car that way.

Fumble
Turning the corner to the nearby exit, a tall young man made eye contact with me and politely said “How you doing?”, as he walked by. I nodded my head to acknowledge his greeting… like I always do… as a MAN! Doh! Men nod their heads, a lady would have smiled and said hi back! A random and genuinely nice guy says hi to me and I screwed it up, probably giving myself away in the process. Yes, I’ve got a long way to go on the public front.

If it’s not one thing, it’s another
I exited the mall and was walking down the sidewalk, taking the long way back to my car. Straight ahead, teenagers were gathered. They do that after school – gather around some of the mall entrances and just hang out. The wind started wiping up and my long hair was blowing up and back, revealing additional signs of my genetic gender. As far as I could tell, none of the teens said anything to me or about me as I passed by. With the wind not letting up, I entered the next entrance and hoped it would be far enough down so I would not need to pass by the obnoxious cell-phone salesmen again. This store’s entrance into the main hallway of the mall was just a few meters past that location. Those guys would be able to easily see me as I walked back into the main hallway.

Had enough for one day
Walking at a faster pace than normal, I entered the main hallway, hoped for the best, and headed back to my entrance location in Macy’s. I was done with the mall for the day, although I did relish that final stroll through Macy’s at a nice, slow pace before exiting. Somehow I blend in better there and feel more at ease. Perhaps it is because of the slightly more up-scale (or at least better behaved) people generally found there.

Most people ignored me, or simply saw nothing out of the ordinary in my appearance. I was read a handful of times. The tough-guys working at the one kiosk, who made it very clear I was not welcome, reminded me of the very real dangers in simply going out into public en femme.

A long way to go
It was a bumpy ride at times, and almost disastrous, but another good learning experience. I accomplished another first as Gabrielle: my first purchase en femme. A small step perhaps, but progress nonetheless. This trek through the mall revealed that I am clearly not yet capable of effectively interacting with people randomly out in the wild. It is a skill that I’ll really need to work on as Gabrielle.

In regard to the sales employees who tried to intimidate me with their derogatory comment and dirty looks, I’ll share that account in full soon…

Update: Here’s the link to the story.

Related content: crossdressing in public

I’ve shown my therapist photos of Gabrielle a few times. In recent sessions, it’s felt like things may be winding down. I wanted him to meet Gabrielle in person before we parted ways. Without being asked to or making it known ahead of time, I decided to just show up as Gabrielle. This particular session took place a few weeks ago – I’m a little behind in my writing. Coincidentally, I have another session with him today, although I’ll be going as plain old Gabe and not Gabrielle.

Here we go again
So what happens in the reception area before even having a seat in the waiting room? I get laughed at… again. To date, my record is perfect – every time I’ve ventured out into public and interacted with people as Gabrielle, I’ve gotten laughed at. As it’s been mentioned before, I do not pass in person.

About the photo
The “metal hands” photo of me above was taken shortly after arriving home from my session. The top and boots are the same, however I changed from my lovely but movement-restricting pencil skirt into another skirt that was easier to walk in. I don’t yet have any photos of me in the pencil skirt. I thought the photo was fitting for this write-up as my trip to the therapist en femme was a generally positive experience, and that rocked. :)

Some trouble walking
The walk from my parked car to the building and into the office was uneventful. A woman exiting the building held the door for me as I entered, and I thanked her with a smile. There was one or two other people I passed in the building’s lobby area. No one looked at me funny, at least not from what I could tell. I had some trouble with the actual walking though. In an effort to stand out less in public, I attempted to tone down my (sexy) look by wearing a past-knee length pencil skirt. My outfit looked very nice but walking in a movement-limiting form-fitting pencil skirt for the first time was rather tricky. I’m not used to it and need more practice.

Enter the office
The receptionist was very kind to me. Polite, and smiling with genuine intent, she took care of business professionally. Of course, I’m not the first t-girl she’s seen. I should probably mention that my therapist is actually a full psychiatrist and shares an office with a few other psychiatrists. She’s been exposed to plenty and didn’t treat me any different than when I’m in guy-mode… except she did seem just a tad warmer to me somehow.

It felt odd having to identify myself as my man-side while I was en femme. After all, Gabe had the appointment, not Gabrielle. I used my feminine voice in dealing with her. Though it needs work, that is how I talk as Gabrielle.

Getting laughed at
As I dealt with the receptionist, another woman entered the office and stood in line behind me. When I turned to take a seat in the waiting room, her obvious smile was easily visible. With her hand over her mouth, she laughed quietly as she turned her attention from me to the receptionist. Being in a psychiatry office didn’t help much. I believe I understand her laughter. It probably wasn’t because she thought I looked terrible or funny (like a clown), but rather because she read me as a man dressed and made up like a woman. Being in a psychiatry office, her mind likely connected the “crazy” dots and formulated that I was a person with some serious identity (and gender) confusion issues, hence why I was there. Us “crazy” folk need proper looking after. ;)

Being laughed at is something I’m slowly getting used to. I’ve known since my first brief interaction with a fast food drive-thru attendant months ago, that this is how people usually react to people like me around here. I don’t like it, but so long as there is no accompanying ridicule or threat, it doesn’t bother me too much.

Over here, doc
When my therapist looked out into the waiting room to call in “Gabe”, it took him a moment to realize that I was Gabrielle. With only two people in the waiting room, the other being a genetic woman (not the one who laughed), it wasn’t too hard to figure out. As we entered his office, he mentioned that I dressed very nicely as Gabrielle. The compliment was much appreciated. Dressing casual en femme is not my thing, although it might be considered more “normal” to do so when venturing out into public (at least for day-to-day activities).

A very Gabi session
Having showed up en femme, this session concentrated entirely on this aspect of my life. We discussed a variety of things including: attending my high school class reunion en femme, my marriage, getting laughed at, time required for full transformation, and my behavioral differences.

As expected, he noticed the obvious personality differences from Gabe to Gabrielle, sighting that I even “talked differently” (using my femme-voice). We had previously discussed exactly where I fall (categorically) in the vast expanse of the transgender spectrum, but this was the first time he was able to see Gabrielle in action. As my wife has, he also commented that Gabrielle smiles a lot more than Gabe.

At the end of the session, my therapist asked if I wanted to exit via his private side-door, so that I would not have to go out back through the office and lobby of the building. I told him that I’d prefer to go out the same way I came in. I didn’t mind passing by people along the way… although walking in that pencil skirt wearing heels was still rather tricky.

A successful public outing as Gabrielle
It wasn’t much, but going to my therapist as Gabrielle was gratifying and gave me the opportunity to examine how I feel, move, and behave when interacting with others as such. It may seem odd to some – that I have to pay such close attention to my own behavior as Gabrielle, but that’s how I learn what’s working and what needs improving upon. As Gabrielle, I am not simply Gabe in drag, but rather existing in and exploring my feminine side. Because most of my life was spent trying to suppress it, it’s going to take some time to get worked out.

Not ready to call it a day
After arriving home and talking to my wife about my day thus far, I felt an overwhelming urge to get back out of the house. Where to go and what to do? My wife suggested that I head to a nearby mall – the same one that I’ve driven to a few times before (en femme), but never left the car out of the fear of being harmed. There are a number of closed-minded, tough-guy macho-types in my town and they don’t take kindly to people like me. It was early afternoon though. These guys should still be at work or in school. It should be relatively safe.

Deciding to head back out and visit a local mall, my day out in public as Gabrielle was not over, but this write-up is. Thanks for joining me for a while. I’ll fill you in on my first stroll through a mall en femme next time. It was a rather sobering experience…

Related content: crossdressing in public

My first official “vlog” (video web log). This was originally recorded on September 12, 2009, but it took a while to find the time to polish it up with some titles and music, and post it online.

Ever wonder what my femme-voice sounds like? Well, it ain’t very convincing. Not yet, anyway. But I’m working on improving it and practicing voice feminization techniques. I’ve got a long way to go in the voice department, but I don’t think you’ll find it too distracting.

In vlog episode 1, I discuss:

• My feminine voice (a work-in-progress).
• A failed outing (all dressed up with no place to go).
• Why I often record phone-videos in my bathroom.
• How people reacted to seeing me en femme at my high school class reunion.
• The fact that I don’t pass (in person) and why that can cause complications when venturing out in public en femme.
• My striped mini dress and outfit, head to heels.

My apologies for the poor video quality. After returning home from a failed outing, I wanted to capture a quick video of my thoughts. My phone was the most convenient video capture device handy – nothing to set up, no lighting to play with, etc. As with other phone-videos, this one was captured in (of all places) my bathroom. Want to know why I often record phone-videos in the bathroom? Well, it’s certainly not because of the scenery! lol I explain in the video.

Please take a minute to offer your feedback.
What’s your take on vlogging? Do you regularly watch other vlogs? Would you like to see more video content like this from me? It won’t replace my written content, but rather be offered in addition to. Let me know if the relatively blurry phone-video quality is good enough, or does it detract from the video as a whole?

It’s YouTube, not me.
Btw – I have no control over the suggested videos offered after mine finishes. I do NOT endorse any of them.

Related content: My YouTube Channel

A quick recap
Longing to get out in public and interact with people as Gabrielle, I attended my high class school reunion en femme. The photo to the right was taken just before leaving the house that evening. I was terribly nervous and it took me a while to find my stride, but eventually I hooked up with some old friends and wound up having a great time. I also found myself very much out of the closet to many more people than I was comfortable with.

In the days following the reunion, the realization of being “out” to so many people wreaked havoc on my emotional stability as I pondered all the terrible things that may come as a result. After some time, I realized that I was over-reacting and simply experienced some instability as a result of taking such big first steps out like that.

The experience changed me. Many fears were conquered that evening. The insecurities that followed have been properly dealt with and bother me no more. I’ve made some wonderful advances in my growth and evolution as a person. There were also some considerable failures on my part that evening – signs of how far I have yet to go.

Personal accomplishments
There were several points of progress made in attending my class reunion as Gabrielle. Some of them may seem insignificant, especially to those who has been boldly stepping out in public en femme with great success for some time now. For those of you who are still relatively new to getting out in public, or have yet to do so, these are the points that seem most relevant in my mind:

• Stepped out of the car. One small step for a t-girl in high-heeled boots, but one giant leap on the courage front. It was the first time I stepped outside the safety of my car in a populated location.
• Interaction with people en femme. Not only did I walk among people in a populated area, I interacted with several people as Gabrielle.
• Outed myself. I didn’t intentionally out myself, but out I am, and to literally dozens of people who’ve only ever known me as my man-side, Gabe.
• Relaxed and had a good time en femme. What good is being out in the world without also enjoying oneself? Nervous as I was, eventually I did loosen up and just enjoy my time among old friends. My appearance was (to my friends) a complete non-issue.
• Braved the laughter. I was aware of the many people gawking at me like I was some kind of freak show. Also very noticeable were the ones pointing and laughing, even calling out to me at times. They laughed at me and I didn’t care. I still had a great time. Oddly, this is something I was unable to do back in high school as I was often made fun of and laughed at for just not fitting in. It used to hurt terribly. On this night however, their laughter had no negative power over me at all.

Personal failures
Even though I made some important advances in my evolution, there were some dismal failures as well. My insecurities got the best of me on a few fronts and manifested themselves in some rather embarrassing ways.

• Secret identity. I showed up at my class reunion expecting to keep my male identity secret and refused repeatedly to tell people who asked (with good intention) who they used to know me as. Refusing to offer my male identity is fine in meeting new people, but at a class reunion? I really should have thought this through better and been more reasonable. Most of the people who asked were clearly well-intentioned in their inquiry. Unrealistic expectations and poor behavior on my part.
• Little miss bashful. Every time someone asked my male-identity, my response included very juvenile and overly shy behavior and mannerisms. I literally tried to “cute” my way out of the question… and probably looked like a damn fool each time. Way to leave ‘em with a good impression, Gabrielle. Aside from the fact that this information should not have been kept secret at a class reunion, I simply should have explained that I didn’t want to reveal that information and behaved like an adult.
• The need to explain myself. Over and over, I felt an overwhelming need to explain to people that I’m not confused about who I am, my wife knows about my feminine side, and that I do not present myself like this full-time. Almost every person I interacted with that evening looked at me wide-eyed, surprised, uncertain as how to interact with me, and very obviously tried to behave as if “everything was ok” (a polite gesture that was very much appreciated). In turn, I felt it necessary to explain myself. If they think I’m confused about myself or believe that (I think) I look 100% female in appearance, I should explain that I’m not confused and fully aware of my inability to pass. If they think I’m a mental case or wonder if “my wife knows”, I should explain that I’m happily married, my wife accepts me as I am, and life is good. It’s hard to really convey exactly how many people looked at me, unless you’ve experienced it yourself. Rather than keep trying to explain myself, I should have simply been myself, conversed with them, and displayed by example that I’m very down-to-earth, normal, and put them at ease with pleasant conversation.
• Way too girly. Even after loosening up among friends, my behavior and mannerisms were a bit exaggerated and overly girly, or so that is how it sits in my memory. Although existing as Gabrielle feels very natural to me, I have yet to work out my public mannerisms and behavioral display. The opportunity to develop it naturally over the years did not exist in my life. I was forced to (or felt extreme pressure to) “man-up” in order to fit into society.

I’m fairly pleased with the progress made for my adventure. Even my failures offer me a pretty clear map of where I need improvement. Part of the funk I fell into immediately following my reunion was the fact that I might have made a much better impression on my class (as a whole) had I shown up as Gabe, wearing a nice suit, with my wife by my side. I was not popular in school, often regarded as a freak and social misfit and made fun of as such. It would have sat better with me to show my old class how far I’ve come since those dark years in my life. Instead, many of them saw me as a freak and social misfit… once again filled with insecurities and visibly awkward in my behavior (not quite ready to be out in public as Gabrielle).

I’m ok with it now though. Perhaps the legacy of Gabe will remain that of a weird-o freak in the minds of many in my class. I do not regret showing up as I did but rather wish I was better prepared in doing so.

Interesting and unexpected reactions
This being my first time interacting with people (in person) as Gabrielle, I was a little surprised by some of the reactions people displayed when seeing me. I fully expected to be read and laughed at. I even worried about the potential for harm. Some of the reactions I got from people are still under analysis in my mind.

Several people refused to make eye contact with me, or would very quickly look away if our eyes met. I think in some cases, they were genuinely attempting to be polite and not “stare”, or be perceived as staring at me because I’m “different”. In other cases, it felt more like they simply wanted nothing to do with me, as in breaking eye-contact sends out the message of “do not talk to me”.

The most confusing reaction was that of the invisible bubble around me that seemed to keep people from getting too close. There was an obvious hesitancy for some people to step into the space surrounding me. For instance, if there were 8 people chatting with each other before I entered the space, 4 of them drifted off and remained at a distance while I was present, waiting and watching from the side-lines. It almost seemed as if they were afraid of me, like I had the plague and they didn’t want to risk catching it – a reaction I was not expecting. In reflection, I think they just didn’t know what to make of me, and my presence made them uncomfortable, so they remained at a “safe distance”.

Many of the people I spoke with in brief had the look of horror on their faces, as if there were an ax sticking out the top of my head and blood dripping down. Their eyes remained very wide open as they politely spoke with me, attempting to behave as if everything was “normal”. One man shook my hand repeatedly during a brief conversation, as if to let me know he was ok with me being as I was. In school we were acquaintances, but not really close. Unlike others who looked away as our eyes met, he chose to approach me when we made eye contact. He was obviously uncomfortable in my presence, but made an honest effort to appear welcoming to me, which was appreciated, if awkward.

Were there others?
A thought that is often on my mind when I’m out in guy-mode is how many other undercover part-time t-girls are there among me? At the reunion, I was the only genetic male en femme, but statically, there should have been at least one or two more (closet) crossdressers. Did any of them say hi to me? Did they regret not showing up en femme? Are they still too heavily closeted to even consider such a move? That will remain a mystery.

Life outside the closet
Immediately following my class reunion, I felt terribly exposed and feared negative fall-out as a result of now being “out”. As of yet, nothing bad has come of it – at least not that I’m aware of. I’m honestly very comfortable now in terms of people knowing me as I truly am. Those who were cool to me, and those who laughed – it’s all good.

My somewhat neglected (man-side) facebook account started receiving friend requests from people I encountered that evening. There were some pleasant, though fairly brief message exchanges as a result. I added a photo of Gabrielle (the same one seen up top minus the text) to my facebook photos, labeled only as “a dear friend of my wife”. Consider it a small step forward in coming out to others.

A woman I was friends with in high school actually saw me at the reunion (though we did not meet up there), but didn’t realize it was me until finding the (Gabrielle) photo in my facebook pictures. Her friend request came as a result of discovery through mutual friend and not because of the reunion itself. She let me know she was cool with it, even if it was just a prank I pulled. I could have easily told her “Yep – it was just a joke”, but chose to fill her in on the reality. She explained that she didn’t understand it, but has always liked me and that hasn’t changed regardless of my gender expression. If only more people in this world were as accepting. We also enjoyed a brief exchange that died off in a few days, more so because of busy lives and not because of my femme-side.

I may be “out” as a transgender but the link between Gabe and Gabrielle remains a secret, at least for now. In part 1, I explained that a different femme-name was used (instead of Gabrielle).

How does my wife feel about this?
Mrs. H. is not yet comfortable with my being “out” to my high school classmates. She fears that someone may use this information to somehow cause me trouble. Her concern is understandable.

She also feels let down. For years, she had expressed an interest in attending my reunion with me (as Gabe, not Gabrielle). Aware of my very troubled times in high school, she wanted to be by my side as I showed people the confident, mature, strong and handsome man I had become… one with a rather attractive wife. When I found out about the reunion, only a few weeks prior, my interest level was very low, so I didn’t mention it to her. It was only at the last minute that I decided to attend (as Gabrielle) and filled my wife in as to my intention. My only real regret of the evening was in not allowing my wife an opportunity that oddly meant more to her than it did to me – a selfish move that I didn’t fully comprehend the scope of until talking with her after the fact. I could have shown up as Gabe, my lovely wife by my side, and made a very good impression on my old classmates as such.

Come so far, yet so much farther to grow
In venturing out as Gabrielle to my class reunion, I made great strides in my personal growth. I also discovered how much I have yet to learn. It is so very different being Gabrielle online than live and in-person, among people. Understanding the psychology of being who and what I am is one thing. Finding my footing in out in the world as Gabrielle is something that I have much to learn about.

What’s next?
I’ve ventured out as Gabrielle a couple more times since my reunion. There have been additional successes, failures, and an unsettling cold dose of reality in the form of intolerance and hate. Next up will probably be my first foray into vlogging as Gabrielle.

Related content: Class Reunion En Femme and Unprepared

A quick recap
The opportunity to transform into Gabrielle was present on the day of my high school class reunion. Longing to get out of the house, into the world, and be among people as Gabrielle, I decided to attend my class reunion en femme.

Things were off to a bumpy start after arriving. Extremely nervous and full of insecurities, I clumsily fumbled my way through for a while. In time, I hooked up with some old friends and began to find my stride. I didn’t reveal who my man-side was, but they figured it out on their own. Unintentionally out of the closet and among accepting friends, my enjoyment level was through the roof. I felt invincible, though still a bit awkward at the same time.

As the reunion came to an end, my classmates invited me to meet up with them afterward at a local bar. Ready to take on the world, I accepted and headed out to meet them, en femme, in a town that is not exactly friendly toward people like me.

A voice of reason
On the way to the bar, I called my wife to let her know where I would be. I always let her know where I’m going when en femme, just in case anything goes wrong. Worried for my safety, she urged me not to go to a public bar en femme. I explained that I’d be among friends and nothing would go wrong, but she stuck to her position, fearing something terrible might happen to me. Long ago, I learned to trust my wife’s intuition regardless of how I felt. Believing nothing would go wrong, I agreed to return home anyway.

Coming down from an incredible high
The feeling of being out en femme and finding acceptance in reunited high school friends was simply amazing. All wound up and feeling good, I didn’t want to take off my makeup and go to bed. Being a person who generally does not enjoy social events, this was a rather extraordinary experience. I had a great time. I felt on top of the world. I felt invincible and was planning on going everywhere as Gabrielle. I had trouble sleeping that night.

The morning after – I did WHAT?!!!
It didn’t take long for the realities of the previous evening to start sinking in early the next morning. No longer under the influence of an adrenaline high, the realization of the fact that I am now out of the closet was doing some ugly things in my mind. I began to regret what I had done and started questioning everything. Did I put myself in danger? Dozens of people (perhaps more) know my “secret” now – a social taboo that comes with a terrible stigma attached. They know who I am (as in my man-side) and can easily find out where I reside. Did I put my wife in danger because of my actions? If any harm comes to her as a result, I’ll never forgive myself. What happens next? Even my wife expressed concern about the potential for vandalism now that people know. Is this just a heightened sense of paranoia? What have I done?

Coming out of the closet is a one-way street
What’s done is done – there is no turning back. A smarter move would have been coming out to trusted friends and family first, then taking things slowly from there. Instead, I chose my high school class. Most of them were anything but friends to me in high school and certainly not people I trust. Several of them did in fact look at me like I was some kind of freak show. I saw them laughing at me. I heard them calling out to me. It didn’t bother me too much the night before… but it was doing a number on me now. The cat is out of the bag and there is no putting it back in.

Troubling emotions and insecurities
Long before attending my reunion, I had communicated with other crossdressers about their first time out in public and interacting with people en femme. A common reaction described is second guessing of actions and regret. The psychology is similar to that of buyer’s remorse, however infinitely more complicated, especially in my case. I didn’t just get out in public en femme, I also came out to a whole lot more people that I’m comfortable with. My buyer’s remorse was quite a heavy load and I could feel myself emotionally buckling under its crushing weight.

From a feeling of invincibility and wanting to go everywhere en femme, all of a sudden I was questioning whether or not this aspect of my life was worth it or even healthy. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. Maybe I’d be better off if I just packed “Gabrielle” away and lived my life as a man (only) from now on. It would certainly be a lot easier that way… at least in terms of fitting into society. For the next several days, I had no desire to crossdress.

Knowledge is power
Riddled with emotional insecurities and questioning my own sanity, my trusted friend TVOW (pronounced: TEE-vow, an acronym for the voice of wisdom in my mind) helped me through. Even filled with self-doubt, TVOW reminded me of the reality – there is absolutely nothing wrong with who I am, at least not because of this aspect of my life. It is society’s misinformation, lies and rules of conformity that has once again infiltrated my mind during a spell of heightened paranoia. Thank God for TVOW – the part of my mind that never buckles under the pressure of an unaccepting society and its negative influence on me. Though feeling weak, insecure, and full of doubts, I knew better than to allow this to defeat me. As it has a thousand times before, this feeling of insecurity and self-doubt would soon pass.

For those who struggle, I hope you’re paying attention
I could easily write volumes about the emotional roller coaster ride that I experienced after going to my class reunion and coming out of the closet (or more accurately, being outed by my own poor planning). The point is that everyone has weak moments in life. Everyone questions their lives. It is important to remember that these feelings of insecurity are only temporary. Those who have knowledge, wisdom, and the courage to stand up and be themselves will conquer these emotions and grow stronger as a person. Those who do not… well, you have my sympathy. I was once weak and afraid to be myself, too. Although I may not be able to be myself for all the world to see just yet, mainly for safety reasons and job security, I’ll never renounce who I am. The only purging I’ll do is that of negative emotions and bad influences in my life. Regardless of temporary set backs and slow-downs, my journey in life shall move forward. My choice is to grow and evolve, not retreat.

There’s more to tell
I’ve outlined the experience of attending my class reunion en femme and the shaky emotional trip immediately following, but the story doesn’t end there.

In part 3, I’ll discuss:

• My accomplishments and failures.
• Some unexpected reactions from people at the reunion.
• Life outside the closet.
• My wife’s take on things.
• Lessons learned.

Continue to Class Reunion En Femme and Unprepared (part 3)

Related content: Class Reunion En Femme and Unprepared

About a month ago, I attended my high school class reunion as Gabrielle. A picture is worth a thousand words, but this one is a bit misleading. You may see a happy t-girl, having a good time and enjoying herself among old high school friends and classmates. In reality, that was not the exactly case, at least not at the time the photo was taken. The smile was forced and I was terribly nervous. I did end up having a good time after loosening up, but the evening was not all fun and games. Nor was it a smart move on my part to show up en femme, unprepared as I was on many fronts.

I’ve been pushing myself and trying to make progress in this aspect of my life. Though I’ve gone for drives en femme, ordered fast food at the drive-thru, and even gone for short walks in isolated areas, I had yet to be out among, and interact with people as Gabrielle – a vital part of my personal growth and evolution. With few exceptions, everyone has a need to be out in the world. For many of us, that includes being out in the world in our feminine form. Prior to this outing, I often felt like I was all dressed up with no place to go as Gabrielle.

An opportunity of convenience
With the opportunity to get all dressed up and my class reunion taking place on the same day, why not attend en femme? The location was in a good area. People dress up nicely for these things, so I shouldn’t stand out as being over-dressed for the occasion. It would allow me the chance to finally be out among and interact with people as Gabrielle in a semi-controlled and relatively safe environment. It was long overdue that I made some progress on this front after having ventured out several times before only to remain in my car (out of fear of being harmed).

Taking those first steps
It was around 9:00 PM or so when I arrived at the reunion. Things were starting to wind down and some people were already leaving as I drove around to scope out the area before parking down the road. I sat and went over everything in my head for at least 20 minutes before finally drumming up enough courage to get out of the car. With a final makeup and hair check, I stepped outside the comfort and safety of my car, composed myself, and headed down the road to the building entrance about 30 yards away. This seemed crazy and my mind filled with doubts as I walked down the road alone in the dark.

Here goes nothing
I entered the building and made my way to the party room, passing a few people on the way. Judging by their facial expressions (people I walked by), I was immediately read, but they just looked away quickly and there were no adverse reactions.

The DJ music was pretty loud. The catering service was picking up remnants of food served earlier. People were up and about, mingling, laughing, drinking, dancing, and having a good time. Looking around, my eyes could not identify any familiar faces. Two women were chatting with each other nearby so I asked if this was my class reunion. After a brief moment of surprise on their faces as they made eye contact with me, they confirmed. Again, t-girls are not the norm around here and they knew immediately I was genetically male.

Unprepared for a simple little question
The women in the doorway were both kind to me as we conversed briefly. It felt odd talking with them as Gabrielle. My femme voice is terrible, but masked slightly by the loud music. Though I tried to smile and act “normal” (whatever that is), I was very nervous. One of the women asked my name and I offered my femme name. It was difficult to hear with the loud music and when she repeated my name back to confirm, a different name was spoken. She misunderstood me, but I confirmed my name as the other name rather than correct her. I went by the other name (not Gabrielle) for the rest of the evening. Then she asked me who she knew me as years ago in high school. I wasn’t prepared to offer that information and the question caught me off guard. Why was I here? What was I expecting? I believed, in part, that my male identity would simply remain a mystery to people that night. Not exactly a realistic expectation, but very little thought was put into this ahead of time.

Exit stage left
What happened to my inexhaustible ability to conquer the world? If I was once Superman… er, Super T-girl, someone surely snuck some kryptonite into my purse because whatever shred of self-confidence I was still clinging to left me. My mannerisms took on that of an adolescent girl who was trying to act all cute and bashful in order to get out of an uncomfortable situation… only I can’t say it fit me well. I felt like a fool. The women were ok with me not sharing my man-name. I spoke to one of them for a while longer, and then took a few quick photos with my phone cam, the best of which you see up top. Time to get out of here before I make a total ass of myself.

Maybe just a little longer
My nerves were telling me to leave now, but my feet were not moving. A few more people approached me over the next several minutes. After a brief exchange with each, I continued to refuse requests for my male identity, behaving overly shy each time.

Another woman approached. I barely knew her in school, but she remained with me for a while and we enjoyed some pleasant conversation. She asked if I intended to “go all the way” (have a sex change). I laughed and explained more about who I am (as a crossdresser and part time t-girl). She told me I looked “rockin’” (referring to my outfit). The compliment lit me up with a great big smile and offered a nice ego boost. Unfortunately I did not take any full shots of me that evening. Aside from the lighting not doing my face justice, the rest of me did look rather nice. I was wearing a black miniskirt (the same one in this photo), black knee-high, high-heel boots, and a sexy black clingy, sleeveless top, with a black sleeved-top that tied at the waist over it (same black cover-top as in this photo, also same boots).

I later found out she was in the final stretch of earning her Ph.D. in psychology. That worked rather well in my favor and explained why she was so comfortable approaching and chatting with me. Any well educated psychology professional fully understands that we’re not mentally ill freaks or perverts. She also encouraged me to get beyond the entrance way, go mingle, and enjoy myself. After spotting a few people I remembered as friends, I did just that, her encouragement much appreciated.

Starting to have some fun
There was a brief surprised look on the faces of my old friends when I approached. They were welcoming and we started mingling. One guy (the only male in the bunch) was a little weirded out that I seemed to know all about him while he did not know who I was, but it wasn’t much of a big deal. I kind of had some fun with that. Aside from dodging the question of my male identity yet again, I was finally just chatting with people and having a good time doing so.

Surprise
The class president approached and asked who he knew me as years ago. Now living in New York City, he explained that he had “seen it all before” and was just fine with people like me. Again, I refused to give up my male identity, and we spoke briefly before I returned to my friends a few feet away. The sole male classmate of the group had a big smile on his face. He asked if I had been to a certain restaurant lately… the same restaurant that my wife and I met up with him and his wife a few years prior. He figured out my male identity. They all knew at this point. I was effectively out of the closet. To my surprise, I took it in stride. A weight lifted from my shoulders – there was no more secret to guard. Knowing exactly who I am, they continued to enjoy my company as if I was just an old friend, no different than anyone else… which is exactly how things should be.

A beautiful transformation
I was no longer some mystery t-girl who crashed the reunion. They knew me, accepted me, and seemed interested only in enjoying my company. I experienced an indescribable feeling of freedom. My brain was acting like a sponge, soaking up the potent happy-juice that was being released in intoxicating levels by my endorphins. Well aware of the many eyes upon me, people pointing and laughing from afar, and being looked at as somewhat of a freak show, I didn’t care anymore. To this group of old friends, I was just a regular, normal person. The guy who initially figured me out described my showing up en femme as “the more normal part of the evening” for him in a later e-mail conversation. There was nothing fake about this. I finally got to unwind and truly be myself among friends – we were all just having a good time, period.

“Super T-Girl” is ready to conquer the world
The class reunion was ending, so shortly after I finally got my footing and started having a good time. My friends invited me to meet up at one of the local bars afterword. The offer surprised me a little. I don’t pass. This town is not very open-minded, especially not to “differences” like mine. They obviously didn’t see any harm in my venturing out into the wild en femme. There’s safety in numbers so what could go wrong? Delighted, I accepted their offer.

While driving to the bar to meet up with the gang, I called my wife to let her know where I was going…

It doesn’t end here
There is more to share about this evening and the aftermath there of. Perhaps most interesting is what took place emotionally the next morning as certain realities sunk in.

In parts 2 and 3, I’ll discuss:

• The dangers of feeling invincible in public en femme.
• The emotional roller coaster ride experienced over the next several days.
• My accomplishments and failures.
• Some unexpected reactions from people at the reunion.
• Life outside the closet.
• My wife’s take on things.
• Lessons learned.

Continue to Class Reunion En Femme and Unprepared (part 2)

Related content: Class Reunion En Femme and Unprepared

People laugh at other people in public all the time. If someone is too fat, too ugly, out of style, or has some kind of deformity, there’s a good chance they’ll be the butt of jokes from others. For a crossdresser, all one needs is to be identified as such, or as we call it, being read. That single element alone will draw unwanted negative attention, laughter, ridicule, and sometimes harm. Because only a very small percentage of crossdressers pass 100% as female, most of us risk facing this unpleasant treatment when we venture out en femme. Our crime is feminine self-expression.

I’m just starting to venture out into the public en femme. I got all dolled up this past Saturday and went for a drive (by myself). Mrs. H. was in the mood for a milkshake. Before returning home, I hit the drive-thru at a local McDonald’s and ordered us a couple of shakes. The young man (in his late teens or early 20′s) who handed me the shakes read me almost immediately after pulling up to the window. He had a hard time holding his composure but was able to do so (more or less) just long enough to hand me the shakes before turning around and laughing.

If you’ve seen photos of me (check the photo gallery), you may be wondering how he read me so easily. Looking feminine (to the extent of passing as female) in 2D pictures is one thing. In person and in motion, I certainly do not pass. My somewhat muscular arms were exposed, not to mention my femme-voice is less than convincing. Either of those may have played a role in his speedy recognition that my genetic gender differed from my expressed gender.

The photo up top is of me checking my makeup in the car prior to going to the drive-thru. Do I really look laughable? Is there a bright green booger dangling from my nose or giant wart protruding from face or something this guy might have found to be good cause for uncontrollable laughter? Maybe I’m wearing too much makeup. My wife told me I had on too much blush… and she’s right. I’ve seen real women wearing much more makeup than I was without being laughed at for it though. Aside from the fact that I’m a male to female crossresser, what exactly looks so funny about this picture?

No one enjoys being laughed at, but I can’t say it bothered me much. My immediate reaction was to begin laughing myself. For some reason, I often find amusement in situations that should be embarrassing to me. When I’m all dressed up as Gabrielle, I simply feel too good about myself for something like this to upset me. Even so, I would have preferred not being laughed at. I think it’s safe to say I also became an amusing story told to his co-workers/friends that night and will likely be a reoccurring story of “those crazy people you meet working the drive-thru”.

Being laughed at for simply being (read as) a crossdresser is pretty disturbing to me. If all other elements are status quo – why is feminine self-expression alone still cause for such amusement? The short answer is because we are still stuck in the 1950′s when it comes to transgendered issues.

There was a time when a black person might easily be laughed at, ridiculed, or even harmed by whites – the only reason being their skin color. It seems completely absurd today to think that such behavior could have ever been so widely accepted and tolerated in society. Does perfect racial equality exist today? Not likely. Will a black person still face laughter, ridicule, and harm from a white person simply for being black? With few exceptions, the answer is no, of course not. Why would anyone (non-black) treat a black person poorly simply for being black? It makes no sense.

So why then are the lines still firmly drawn at gender expression? Why is it funny to see a man who chooses a feminine form of self-expression? Why is it cause for laughter and ridicule? Why is it cause for harm? What year do we live in again?

It’s been established as fact, that crossdressers are not mentally sick for their choices in personal expression. Some crossdressers may actually be mentally sick, but that is an entirely separate personal trait and not related to the crossdressing. A mentally sick non-crossdresser is not mentally sick because they don’t crossdress, right? Doctors, psychologists, and professionals in the mental health fields all know the truth: crossdressing is but a very natural form of self-expression in men who have a strong feminine side to them. It varies from one to the next, but that’s it in a nutshell.

Sadly, it’s going to be some time before crossdressers and trasngendered people are treated with proper respect in society. Regardless, it’s not going to stop me. This is the first time I’ve been laughed at in public for simply being a crossdresser and it won’t be the last. I will not stop venturing out en femme because people might laugh at me. Maybe I’ll wear a little less makeup in the future, but I’m just getting started.