Skip to main content

Gender questioning: in the beginning - early attractions

I have written previously about my first attraction to a girl when I was eleven and how I was as fascinated by how it would feel to be her and wear her swimsuit as I was attracted to the girl herself. 

At the time, I had no idea that this was not “normal” and that it was a sign of who I am inside. I had no external reference as to how you should fancy girls, except for other teenage boys’ conversation which was mainly as sophisticated as saying “phwoar” a lot. This does not provide the unknowingly gender questioning boy/girl with many clues. 

School did provide most of my early attractions and fantasies though. 

One of the new subjects we had to do now I was at senior school was “performing arts”, which was on rotation with art and music. It was sort of a combination of drama and dance and took place in what was officially called the “theatre” even though it had no stage or seating. It was more of a dance studio space I suppose but strangely had no windows or natural light. The one thing it definitely did have though was a very strange and unpleasant smell. And it was this smell that gave the room its name among the kids, of the "cheesey feet room". Because it involved dance and movement, it necessitated changing clothes. For boys, we just wore our PE shorts and t-shirts and went barefoot. But the girls, they were free to express themselves. Being the nineteen eighties, this meant leotards and leggings, usually matching sets and generally in that shiny lycra like the "green goddess" on TV (I realise younger readers won't get that reference!). I expect the "normal" way of looking at my female classmates would be to ogle their shapes and curves in the skintight lycra. Was that how I saw them? Not exactly. I saw the outline of a bra through the leotard and imagined how it felt wearing a bra. Like I had over the summer with the girl in the swimsuit, I longed to know how the tight fabric felt on my body, this time not just the torso, but all over from feet to neck to wrists. Oh my, how must that feel? And those sort of dance didnt just end at the ankle like a regular pair, they go over the foot like a stirrup, covering the sole but leaving the toes, balls of the feet and heels bare. I assume this is for grip on the floor, functional not sexy, but to me, how does it feel to have the stirrup stretch around under your foot? Girls are so lucky! And the ultimate fascination of these outfits was the layering of the two parts. Leggings covering from the sole of the foot to the waist, then a leotard over the top, not just covering them, but somehow securing them (in my mind). Dressed thus, you wouldn't be able to take off the leggings to get to you underwear beneath, at the foot they are fixed by the stirrups and at the top, secured by the leotard. Even now, the idea of this makes my heart beat faster, as a young boy, it was the most thrilling dream of all. No doubt to the cisgender girls, they were just functional outfits that were fashionable and they chose the colour they liked and then maybe felt a bit self-concsious when all the boys in the class just stared at their breasts. Which I guess I did too, but maybe wit different thoughts in mind. So, what have we learned from this little trip down memory lane, if anything? At the time, I didn't know any different, but it looks like from the very beginning of puberty and sexual awareness, I was fascinated by the other path down which I was unable to travel, I was wanting to cross-dress to experience how girls felt, amd I was having female embodiment fantasies. That probably means I was "weird" and I was sufficiently aware of that to keep my feelings secret, even though to me, it was my normal. In case you are wondering, once I had left home and was free to dress as I liked in private in my own place, one of the first things I went out and bought was a leotard and leggings set.  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

11 Feb 2024 - how do you open a “coming out” conversation?

Feeling better today and woke up feeling feminine which was nice. Wife still in bed.  I could come out, but only to the dog! Went for a run instead.  2.75 miles which is 0.5 miles more than last week but the last bit was a struggle. We talked a bit but I didn’t say what I need to say. Now she has gone to shower.   I also didn’t say anything in the afternoon and then failed to say anything in the evening too. The problem is that it isn’t the sort of thing that neatly segues into a conversation. “Funny that you should mention penile inversion vaginoplasty…” is unlikely to ever come up as an opportune opening.   And it is the opening sentence that I think is the hardest part.  That is the moment of “shock” so needs to be not too shocking. After that, I think I will find the rest fairly easy as it is just telling my story.   I think that “I’m transgender” or anything like that is too big a shock statement.  I think that a softer introduction of “I wish I w...

21 Jun 24 - more correspondence from the gender clinic

I got details if the voice feminisation therapist through on the email and also links to the BMA and GMC guidance for GPs so I can do battle with the practice and see if they will help with my treatment by prescribing and doing the blood tests.  The voice coaching letter is interesting. It seems it’s not just talking in a higher pitch but also about resonance and it is that which makes the most difference. Which makes sense. The are women with high voices and low voices but they are all immediately identifiable as female, so there must be something other than pitch that signals this.  They also train for conversation, telephone and projection / public speaking as you use your voice differently in these situations.  Sounds interesting, maybe fun and most likely difficult to master.  I was visiting our northernmost office today and was hoping to be able to go out at the Mall on the way home, but there wasn’t enough time to fit that in. I am keen to have some more ...

15th August - why transition?

I ended yesterday‘a post with a question: if I can find joy in just occasionally seeing myself as a woman, why would I want to upset my whole life and go through the emotional and physical pain of transitioning?  Is this a good question? Or is it just my protective brain once again trying to prevent me from taking a risky step? Could be both?  Assuming it is a valid question to ask myself, what are the arguments for not transitioning?  I have managed to live my life with my secret for decades and I am fine. When I do get to dress femme, I like it and it brings me happiness, and occasionally real joy. Real life is mundane and I am sure that dressing female all the time will not bring me perpetual joy and happiness, it will just be my normal. With suitable underwear and the right style of clothing, I can achieve the outward appearance of a female body shape and look pretty good (mainly thanks to the advantage of height relative to size). I don’t need hormones or surgery to ...