It's a lot, but many transgendered males do not and will never pass as women. It's a fact. Some I've seen are breathtaking. Some, not so much. As Meg, I'm never sure if I'm turning heads, or stomachs.
Passing has been called the "holy grail" of crossdressing. Pat called it that in a recent comment. I've called it that myself.
I was wrong.
Passing is wonderful. Going out and being accepted is wonderful. Being called "ma'am" is wonderful.
Every artist wants to paint like DaVinci, or Magritte, or Dali, or whoever is the master in her style.
Every garage band wants to be the next Beatles, or
Bieber (seriously ~ follow the link. Is he one of us too?)
At some point, the artist or musician or skater has two choices: accept that she's never going to be the best there ever was, or be an angry bitter person who rails against the universe.
Accepting yourself doesn't mean you stop trying to improve. One has nothing to do with the other.
The artist or musician or skater might be very skilled or gifted in her art, but she's handicapped because she lacks the magic spark that makes Michaelangelo, or Dylan. Or the physical agility of Michelle Kwan.
All of us born male who try to reach for female beauty are handicapped as well, but in different ways. Our hands are too big, our adam's apple protrudes too much, we have a bass voice, or angular face.
We can all, I think, pass, but many of us only at the fringes. Maybe our features are more masculine than 99% of women, but there are women who could be our twins. Maybe being six-foot-four is tall, but
some women are taller. My voice is masculine, but has anyone heard Bea Arthur?
Passing, as I said, is great. But there's something that is more important, and something that's attainable by every one of us. I think
Stana and
Dani are there. I am not.
I'll finish this Monday. Please give me your thoughts in the meantime.
