Dear friends. My wardrobe remains buried safely but frustratingly beneath roughly a half ton or more of well, stuff, labored upstairs from our recently flooded basement. Sad to say, there has not been much in the way of cross dressing going on Chez Bellejambes.
I have though added to my collection of pumps lately, and they are getting a lot work. Unhappily, these are pumps of the submersible variety. Not at all as fun and beguiling as the shapely pumps that come in pairs and smarten up our postures just so. Given the continuing rain and the not yet fully receded potential for more damage to my home and belongings, I am resigned to devoting my unwandering thoughts and attention to these functional, practical, sensible pumps. Evidently a girl cannot have too many of either variety.
This entire episode has upended things rather dramatically. I lost a lot of daylight that I had planned to spend on a client project with an end of October deadline. The project has been grappled back into a state of relative submission, and this frees up some time for other things. Things like ripping up the basement floor for waterproofing and resurfacing. Things like trench digging, and plastering of foundations.
Not so much of the plastering, painting and parading of myself en femme. My exteriors are fully drab, and no change in that weather is in near sight.
But there is the interior life. Yogi Berra famously said of baseball that “90% of this game is half mental”. So it is with matters of cross dressing, at least 90% half-mental. Here is some half-mental for your consideration.
I read a great piece at Femulate in September called Girl Talk. Worth a read if you missed it the first time. Staci Lana spoke about how comfortable she had always felt in company of women and how their company was always more interesting to her then the company of men. She wrote about how much more natural, open, revealing and intimate women are with her when she is en femme. It really got me thinking and I am only now getting around to digging out my two pennies from purse bottom and offering them up.
My experiences are entirely similar. When en femme, I witness a whole battery of evolutionary and social adaptations to the presence of men just melt away. A subtle vigilance is given a rest. I get welcomed into a club. These are moments that are amongst my favorites. They are both a privilege, and a great lesson.
In my guy life I believe that I am pretty well attenuated and alert to the effects that gender has on how we interact with each other. I see many men fail epically in their attempts to win the confidence and trust of women in professional and social settings. Perhaps they are perceived to be trying to win something else, something tactical, something that happens after trust and confidence.
Trust and confidence is the thing that I have typically sought to earn first. These are the foundation elements, elements that are difficult to build when you are carrying an agenda. As a rule therefore I try to not carry an agenda, and this makes life easier for me. In my adult years I think of this behavior simply as respectful.
In younger, single years though, it came with a different label. Sensitive.
Sensitive sometimes lead to different, and typically unwelcomed outcomes. Trust often grew as some of the more male bits diminished. Metaphorically of course. The dreaded F word. … “you know I love you like a friend …”. There were days that I would have paid dearly, anything, to be thought of as whatever sensitive was not. When I tried to be otherwise, I simply could not pull it off. For long, anyhow, or without feeling like I was untrue to myself or hurtful to someone else.
So after all these years, and a little bit of thought, it feels good to be able to place that behavior in a broader context. Women are interesting, fascinating in fact, relative to men. I envy much about them, their looks, their lives, and choices. It is a real privilege to be trusted by women and to become more intimate with them, whether I am drabbed down, or en femme. Especially en femme though.
I wonder how closely related sensitivities like these are tied to my cross dressing. Regardless, I am glad that I have both. I am sure neither is going away anytime soon. I would miss them both dearly as I am missing the sun just now. How about you?
Happy dressing, and everything else…