Half term is drawing to a close, and we’re now into the last weekend, in which homework (boo!) must be completed. Luckily for Wee Man, the Ever Lovely Mrs J is a dab hand, at helping him along. Certainly in the maths capacity, that’s not my strong point. Luckily, for every maths piece, there’s usually something to do with creativity – a story, or presentation, so it’s not just one parent steering.
After last week’s comment around “so long as you’ve got your health”, I may have tempted Random Happenstance, as I’ve contracted a particularly unpleasant cold. I’m sure it would be man-flu, if I my gender wasn’t betwixt and between. 🙂 Still, only five days into it, and so long as I keep taking the tablets eh? 🙂
With the above in mind, it’s been a case of early nights and very little going on. I have managed to catch a few films, with Wee Man, but generally, I’ve been too knackered to do much else. I know, break out the violins and prepare the funeral pyre 🙂
Over on Rhiannon’s blog, she was talking (blogging?) about shopping for clothes. A topic, I’m sure many of us can related to. Before we move on the my waffle about this, you could do a lot worse, than read her sage advice. The paragraphs about dressing your age, and playing to your assets, are well worth taking the time to consider. Larks, I’ve said something nice and she doesn’t even owe me any money ;-P
Thing is… if you’re anything like me, you’ll have your doubts about how you look. Sure, people say nice things, which are, a) very kind, and, b) that I’m slightly embarrassed. That’s completely my problem, not there’s although I do try to say thanks, as a minimum.
I think we humans, are almost programmed – or perhaps, more accurately, have a leaning towards wanting to make things better. It’s not just trans folk, I was talking to a colleague at work, who was expressing something very similar. Well, I assume he’s not trans, but my T-DAR isn’t the best in the world (eh Jenny? 🙂 ).
Anyhoo, we look at the things that need fixing, rather than the good stuff around us. Oddly, and as I was saying to Sarah at Chams, I can see the good things about my T-friends, whereas, they look at themselves and sometimes are disappointed.
I guess, the thing is that with all the years of ‘being a bloke’ and looking into the mirror, as you have a shave, or brush your teeth, you kinda get used to seeing your regular mug. Slip on a dress, get your wig and slap ready, and yet…. it is pretty much the same face that looks back. It takes a lot to break from that image. A good wig certainly helps, padding, a nice dress and the right make-up, that all makes a difference.
It’s not so much that I want to look totally different. It’s more that, when I’ve made all this effort, I don’t want to look, well… male.
Going back to the compliment thing, others have said nice things, and that’s not why I dress, as I do. I do it for me and no-one else. I do it because I like to feel pretty once in a while and by some odd alignment of random incidents, The dress that feels ‘right’, a skirt and top combo that make me feel good, or even – as happened at the Christmas party – a glimpse of my shadow on the wall, as I danced; it wasn’t ‘him’. So, I can feel good about how I look. Not great, or big headed, but satisfied.
There’s a lot to be said, I think, about being satisfied.