As I arrived and left of the car repair shop, I was outwardly candid, but inwardly angry, frustrated, and…proud. My car that was promised to be ready the day before was being given to me now, the day of a cosplay event. I had already steeled myself for showing up to pick up my car in cosplay that I took great pride in portraying. However, I also knew that my pride also stemmed from having eyes on me, as I carried myself confidently in 4-inch ruby heels and showing much skin. I knew I was the hottest piece of eye candy within eyeshot, and gladly embraced the attitude of my character, Poison.
Maybe they wanted me. I didn’t give a fuck.
That same day, my friend – I was late picking her up – and I parked outside of the location event & had to do some walking in the neighborhood. There were some elderly men chatting outside as we passed by, but we were preoccupied with our own chit-chat going back and forth on why the other girl was attractive. They must have thought they were out of earshot – or maybe they wanted us to hear – but they were clearly saying ‘thank you for the nice view’. Her & I discreetly giggled at each other & kept on talking until we reached the corner, unsure of which way to go. Just then, one of the elderly men from before shouted for us to make a left to get to the boardwalk.
Indecency countered by decency. Probably as thanks for being attractive. We both shouted thank you because that’s just what you do regardless.
To be honest, those are just two of many instances that men have ogled or flirted with me. Truth be told, I like the attention. This is coming from someone who has seen some shit as a spy in the male camp. So I am absolutely a long-time supporter of respecting females, treating them as human beings not objects, and, one of my most engrained values, not sexually harassing a female with your eyes. These feelings haven’t gone away & translate very well in protecting & respecting myself as my rightful gender. However, being acutely aware of the misogynistic stigma and disgusting fetishizing plaguing the transgender community puts me in a place where any honest compliments/affirmations of my femininity, despite being purely based on the physical, is something I have a hard time not feeling exceedingly grateful for.
What people don’t know is how much effort I have put into my face-value. My now standard voice that people feel compelled to compliment. My toned body that strangers have acknowledged with curious interest. Developing a makeup routine that is still developing. Years, and more years still, to get to this point. All of this for the sake of…
Yes, I do it all for me to feel happy and beautiful. Doing anything I can to deal with this fully developed, biologically male body. And I’d be lying if I said that was my only reason. I believe that being desired by anyone, especially someone not driven by lust, is something that starts with the initial attraction. I also acknowledge that when all the smoke and mirrors go away, I am still me. However, I will never forget a phrase I wrote in a creative piece of prose during my darker years of high school…
Myself is never enough.
Even after becoming so much stronger and open as a whole person, I don’t hold my breath for a future that will be kind enough to give me someone who desires the me – the scared, sometimes dysphoric, highly self-conscious trans girl still light-years from a pleasing natural state that is very much a work in progress. Call me pessimistic, but really, there are so many other trans ladies out there who feel the same & admittedly have a lot more reason to than I. If nothing else, I owe it to myself to remain grounded & avoid ever thinking myself so highly – to be honest about my very real experiences of both being desired and deeming myself, the person in the mirror, utterly undesirable.
Comment if you relate or find my perspective flawed in some way.