Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Becoming That Girl

That Girl in the Mirror
As a youngster, I became fascinated with female impersonation after seeing weekly advertisements in the Daily News depicting glamorous women who were actually men performing at a nightclub, the 82 Club, in New York City.

One thing led to another and around age 12, I began experimenting with female impersonation myself. Whenever I was home alone, I would explore the wardrobes and cosmetics of my mother and sister. And over the years, I became adapt at transforming myself into a presentable female — so much so that when I attended Halloween parties dressed as a woman, other guests often wondered why I was not in costume!

Such affirmation of my impersonation was wonderful, but I was closeted and only displayed my talents on those handful of occasions when I was invited to a Halloween celebration. As a result, I was frustrated keeping my impersonation under wraps, but I also had fleeting thoughts that there was something more to my impersonation beyond all its trappings. I thought I might be transsexual.

That thought was contrary to everything that was “normal” in my world. So I forgot about it and concentrated on becoming the best “plain-vanilla” crossdresser I could be. But there just weren’t enough Halloween parties in my life, so I began exploring the Internet for other outlets for the woman I was impersonating.
Via a transgender group on CompuServe, I learned about a local support group for crossdressers. I joined the group, became an active member attending its twice monthly meetings and relishing its infrequent expeditions out amongst the civilians visiting restaurants, nail salons, clothing stores, beauty parlors and wig stores!

Through those expeditions, I gained the confidence to go out in public on my own and despite my fears, the world did not end when I did so. Instead, I discovered that I fit in as just another middle-aged woman — a fashionably-dressed middle-aged woman — but a middle-aged woman, nonetheless.

I also discovered that fitting in as a middle-aged woman was a perfect fit. I was not a female impersonator, rather I realized that I was actually a woman who happened to have a male body.

It all made sense. All my life I was naturally “feminine” according to society’s definition of feminine. And being feminine was not an act; it was not something I strived to be — it was just me being me.

A telling moment was when I attended a college Halloween party dressed as a woman. At the party, a friend mentioned that he never realized how feminine I was as a male until he saw me dressed as a woman. In his eyes, my feminine speech, mannerisms and appearance had all come together and at that moment, I was a woman and not a feminine guy.

(excerpted from Fantasia Fair Diaries)

Paolo Ballesteros
Paolo Ballesteros femulating in the 2016 Filipino film Die Beautiful.

1 comment:

  1. I do appreciate your commentary, especially reffering to 'your closeted self'. BUT what was a gender-curious child of the 1950's to do? "They" would have locked your ass up in a mental institution had you expressed your 'natural self'. In contrast, I recommend a a read of 'Raising My Rainbow", a blog about a WHOLE FAMILY raising their 'gender-fluid' child. It aint the 1950's Leave it to Beaver" anymore.
    --"Ward, I am worried about 'The Beaver'. I caught him dressing up in my 'things' again."-- Now that would be a sitcom!
    I have to agree with a fellow C-D friend of mine, we concur that after a day of going to lunch 'en-femme', life seems much more peaceful and relaxed. We can talk about things other than 'the big game'. I feel much more empathetic to others. Its' a 'good thing'.
    Velma Ddinkley