Would you ask me out?
Recently I've been encountering a new kind of online suitor. They speak English (no offence meant to the rest of the world) and are articulate. One even called me his "soulmate." Heavy stuff! All of these have occurred on Facebook, where I have a Sophie page. (Still never been courted in person though)
It makes me wonder if these people looked at my profile, or the my friends there, or at my posts. My posts tend to fall in three categories: Politics, Music, Bad jokes. Reading through any of this will give a person a quick idea of what I am about. (Wow, I must be tired- I'm ending sentences with prepositions!)
However, I make no secret of who I am on there: I am a ... a... ok so what am I? Am I a crossdresser? No it's more then that. I don't think a CD NEEDS to be their femme counterpart. So am I a trans? Am I going to go all the way? What the hell am I doing anyway?
At my last therapy appointment, my therapist postulated (ooo big word) that more and more my male side is becoming my "shadow life" and Sophie is becoming my true one. I could not say it any better.
Am I the woman in the mirror?
Let's look at this, shall we? My male life is shit. Bad paying job, etc. The only times I really come alive is when I am a woman. There is danger, yes. I could get caught, or some redneck could want to start something. Transwomen get murdered with alarming frequency.
That of course brings up the usual question we ALL ask: why do we do this? Why risk all this just to wear a skirt? Why not be satisfied with how we were born? None of us can answer this. Or can we?
Seems that we can't help it. Our brains ARE different. We ARE women inside. At least enough to cause this ache in the core of our being.
So ok, my brain tells me I'm a woman. My pictures look feminine (I hope.) Does this mean I should start taking these guys on Facebook seriously? Am I truly someone's soulmate? Will I someday walk down the aisle in a wedding dress?
Who knows? I think the better question is: when will I have the intestinal fortitude to bring Sophie more to the surface? Is it a question of economics or guts?
Lots of questions. No answers.
But tomorrow I am home alone. And I will dress. And that makes me happy! :)
Honey! I didn't expect you home...