blend

As I may have written, I do not want to talk of passing. Better to speak of blending. The question is, how well do I blend? I honestly don’t know and it bothers me and I want the help of others to find out.

When dolled up, I do get some creepy or nice men flirting sometimes, and I do get some catcalls. But are these people seeing me as a woman or as a fetish?

Do people who see me casually all know I am trans, or are there some who actually do not? I would like to know, if nothing else then so as to know where I am developmentally.

alters

Moving through the spaces where I am and where I express. Asked panel question being shown on big screen and on microphone, danced, spent time. I note that except for some of the time, I feel better and better about how I look, so long as I take it far enough, and I feel safer and safer – natural is not the word, but comfortable? – presenting and taking space as I do.

At the same time, voice confidence varies. I enjoy using mine except when I have to project loud enough, because then pitch becomes wrong one way or another. No fun to become heard in noisy environments.

Things going somewhere.

gifting

Maybe this is what I feel. If I am perfectly diligent and get all the rest done. If I:

– Make my conduct empathetic and kind and non-angry, containing and open and caring, as I feel I want to be able to see myself.

– Sculpt my body further with food and exercise and whatever, alongside the hormones, so I can be understood as female by an observer having only my shape to go by.

– Learn to stop slouching and maintain a straight posture (because something about me has to be straight at least, amirite?) again impacting how I feel.

– Finish up laser fully and wholly, and laser also the parts that could cause hair issue during Thai-style SRS (e.g. perineum).

– Master voice so I can blend voice style under pressure too.

If I do all those things, so there would not be too much hanging over me otherwise, then I could finally reward myself with bottom surgery, excusing the recovery time and the costs by that being something I have paid for through effort. This all is complex and messed up and I am emotional and currently deeply longing to just have a body that neither myself nor others would question as being female.

I suppose this is a path and an interesting one at that. If I resolve this, and also set money aside, then there can come a point when the matter is simple, when I will feel confident that it is OK for me to go ahead and have surgery. This thought is becoming resident in the ecosystem of my mind. We shall see what I make of it.

Meh day. Trolls. Bothersome. Needing to work, and will. And will meet people, and deal with things. Absolutely needing to get out of bed, first.

vestment

After a day of feeling quite good, went clothes shoppping. The situation being as follows – there will still be some time before I can again do laundry, and I am rapidly running out of things I want to wear. So for simplicity, went to large cheap clothing chain store and tried on 16 different dresses. None fit as I would want, and what I see now is that in my current stage, very very few designs work. They must flare (otherwise there are unsightly bulges from belly and bottom parts both), but flaring things that fit on lower body do not fit on top, they will be too small and bra will show on sides. Resolving to not buy even cheap stuff unless it fits perfectly, because otherwise in fitting room mirrors I look like a crossdressing clown. Even so, not all angles are flattering, my jaw and cheeks and throat look weird, and the signs of facial hair are there. Unless hair is just right, I look like some crossdressing slob.

That said, not only do I know this is dysphoria talking, I also see things that would look so great and fit so great and look so me if only they were cut a little differently, so it’s worth continuing to look. And I know I share that experience with 75+% of cis women too.

Speaking of my cisters, today had for first time in a while some number of cis women looking oddly at me, one snorting at me. Usually I get negative reactions only from men. Part of me worried big city people spot trans women easier, so that this would recur, but perhaps they just did not like my sunglasses. One stores clerk sold me nail polish, then gave me a free sample of men’s perfume. That messed me up a little. Perhaps it was just random. Or she signalled her lack of acceptance, or she simply instinctively parsed me as male. Those options in increasing order of sad severity. All in all, these various experiences escalated with me feeling like I come across masculine, which yields increasing dysphoria as my expectations change. I know what to do – persevere, let pass, all this shall pass.

There are things I can do with regards to that term – I don’t like the term of (even just cis-)passing, so I’ll say blending – I know from mirrors that I slouch, proper posture has real and true impact. As does smiling, and as does also remembering to maintain voice. I should tie these things too to the Triune Goddess, but not sure fully on how to work into the scheme, ideas welcome – which of the aspects of the Goddess are most kin to what habitualization of posture, voice and smile?

All in all, once clothes shopping – failed, at that – was done, I was an hour after when to take the next estradiol dose. I could feel that, and I could feel relaxation after taking it, washing the blue pill down with hugo, but really that is much too fast for anything but placebo to act. It could well be both placebo and true mood impact though. Need to instigate a double blinded study with that one trans collaborator who is also crazy, driven and brave enough to go for it, I will tell her of this aspect to the intervention possibilities too. I do thing my mood is impacted, anxieties return when estradiol drops. Should try patches again to see if it doesn’t, though of course then also any placebo or nocebo would go away. I did note about 5 min after the dose now that my worries actually deepened, I felt closer to sadness and also closer to responding to cuteness (saw little doggo), this being something I noticed post hoc so less likely perhaps to be placebo. Will see where the evening takes me.

It seems it takes me to hair washing, emergency nail polish, makeup and trying to see if (unlikely) I get into a hip club. And some slides editing. Check.