readdressing "passing"

Thursday's "passing" posting was written hastily and posted in error.

I typed my thoughts quickly and intended to save them for later editing, but when I intended to click on the "save now" button, I actually clicked on the "publish post" button and poof!... I published the posting on the blog.

I was very busy that day and let it go figuring it said what I wanted to say. But as time passed, the e-mails and comments I received indicated that I could have done a better job. So, this post is my attempt to do that, i.e., to clarify what I wrote in my previous post.

I usually check my ego at the Blogger door before I write a post, but if I do that now, what I am about to write will not make sense. So, I am not going to hold back in the following piece.

I am very good at what I do, i.e., I know how to emulate a woman.

Over the years, many genetic woman have complimented me on my taste in clothing, how well I put outfits together, do my makeup, my hair, my nails, etc. I am definitely not a guy in a dress, a man in a skirt, or a fellow in a frock. And despite my size, I often pass as an attractive statuesque woman. And I am very proud of that achievement.

From years of experience, I have learned that my natural speech and mannerisms are such that strangers sometimes take me for gay when I am in male mode. As a result, my natural speech and mannerisms suit me well when I am en femme.

By the way, I bought books and tapes to learn how to speak as a woman, followed the advice they offered, practiced, practiced, and practiced some more, and eventually achieved a feminine voice. But whenever I used that voice in public, I felt ridiculous. That voice was not the really me, so I abandoned the fake voice and returned to using my normal voice en femme.

When I wrote in Thursday's post that I was going to stop trying to pass, I did not mean that I was going to abandon anything I already do. I meant that I will continue to do what I do, i.e., femulate rather successfully, but that passing is something I would no longer worry about when I did femulate. As I wrote in my previous post, "If I pass and strangers think I am a woman, so be it. If I don't pass and strangers think I am a man dressed as a woman, that is OK, too; I won't deny it."

I also wrote, "I will stop pretending that I am a woman." That statement probably confused matters more than anything else I wrote in Thursday's post, so I will elaborate.

I will stop pretending that I am a woman because I don't have to pretend. I am a woman in many ways, probably in more ways than I know.

Unlike the classic transsexual model, I never felt I was a woman trapped in a man's body. I passed through the world in such a feminine manner that maybe the woman in me did not feel trapped. Instead, she was out there whether I was en homme or en femme.

And during those times when she was out there en femme, she blossomed and became whole. That explains why I so enjoy being en femme because then I am whole.