Recently, I proffered, "Ask me anything" and Pat asked, "Were you naturally effeminate as a kid and ever called a sissy while going to school?"
Yes ― I was naturally effeminate as a kid. I know it was "natural" because at the time, I was not aware that I was effeminate.
I was not intentionally acting effeminate, I was acting as me, myself, and I, and as luck would have it, me, myself and I was very effeminate. So much so that my peers let me know it by calling me names like "sissy," "twinky," "fairy," and worse.
At my first summer job, which was in a very macho environment, my nickname was "Zelda" in honor of my feminine ways.
At another summer job working in the receiving department of a department store where I unpacked and sorted women's clothing all day long, one of my co-workers suggested that it must be my dream job because I got first shot at all the new dresses and lingerie before it went on the floor for sale to the public. He even showed me a private backroom where I could try on the clothing that I might like to purchase.
At my high school graduation, some of the jocks asked aloud why I wasn't wearing a gold-colored graduation cap and gown like the other girls.
In college, the guy in the dorm room next door said I could borrow his girlfriend's bra that she left behind after one of their evening rendezvous.
Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
I never changed my feminine ways even when I figured out what was going on. I knew how to fix the problem, but I rejected manning up and becoming macho because doing so was so incompatible with my nature.
On the other hand, dressing in woman's clothing was a perfect fit. I already acted, moved, and spoke like a woman, so the clothing just completed the picture.
(Caveat Emptor: This is a redo of a 3-year-old post.)
 |
| Wearing Self Portrait. |
