On Becoming a Woman
The last time I was out en femme, I was asked by a person that was none too sober a sobering question: Why did I
want to be a woman? I tried to explain that I pretty much already was, but she was slopped and persistent. Her friends
finally carted her off with a mild apology, and that should have been that.
Except that it wasn't the end of it, really.
I hadn't put a whole lot of thought into the matter, you know what I'm saying? So I have spent some time looking at
the question from all angles. The physical angle…well, okay. I have boobs (and always have; I got slapped once by my
middle sister for having bigger boobs than she did. And yes, I am adding to them slowly, but that is by my choice.) My
skin Ph is all wrong, it has been since High School. My body hair is, by and large, soft. It's not the coarse man-hair it
ought to have been. Certain parts of my anatomy are far more sensitive than they ought to be for a man, including my
nipples. These have all been proven, at one point or another, medically…as well as some other things. If I do myself up
right, and were to shave the rest of my body hair off, my stature is feminine, especially my arms and wrists.
Mentally? I have thought like a woman long before I was cognizant of doing so. While I have been trained to think in a
male pattern (Laser-like and to the point), I can also follow a woman's conversational pattern, especially as it
spider-webs. I also tend to follow a woman's speech pattern, especially on the phone. (In fact, more than once in my
male job I have been accused of being a woman. If they only knew…)
Spiritually? That was more difficult. I do not believe that God makes mistakes, and yet, there are certain physical realities
that I have in my life that hold true. Therefore, the jury's still out on that one. I also believe that "As a man (or woman)
thinks in their heart, so are they" (Proverbs 23:7). By that standard, then, since I think as a woman, I am one, male
plumbing notwithstanding. (I also understand that this argument is not always logically sound. I might think that I am
an armadillo, but that won't make me one, even if I sleep in a cage and eat armadillo chow.) The basic concept,
however, is solid.
Metaphysically, however, is another story. What exactly is womanhood? Is it only the summation of her female parts?
Or is it the essence within, her very being that causes her to be female? Is there a spirit of womanhood? Perhaps an
innate sense of femininity? If so, how does one develop that? This line of Existential BS thinking gave me a headache…
for days on end. (In fact, just writing about it has given me another headache.)
Is it matter of how one lives? I live at least 70% of the time as a woman now. As an example: My SO does almost none
of the housework. I do it. In fact, my SO is more of a man than I ever was, even down to the dirty clothing on the floor.
I wear women's clothing almost exclusively (including bras and panties), and even a little makeup now and then. I want to
look good for my SO (and anyone else), and so do all the right things as I need to, including eating right, exercise and
getting enough sleep. In short (and this shows my age, a little): I can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan, honey.
There are so many different ways that one could look at this question, enough to drive a person over the edge. However…
the next evening, in the midst of attempting to answer this one question, I put on a dress, did up my make-up, put on my
wig and some jewelry, looked into the bathroom mirror…and saw the woman that I am meant to be. (The picture's on the
web-site; it's the dress with the blue spaghetti straps.) They say a picture is worth a thousand words. For once, they
(whoever "they" actually are) are correct. I have decided to become a woman simply because I AM a woman. The
concept of woman, in all its forms, defines who I am…and who I am becoming.
When all is said and done, however, the end result is this: I think that I decided it was a hell of a lot easier to become a
woman than it was to become an armadillo. I'll eat and sleep better, too.
And so I'm leaving it at that for now. J
If you were reading "Dear Diary", click here to return.
