Transient life, transient humans

We are transient – traveling from one state to another, and sometimes combination of different states at once.

Hello once again.

Sharing this blog with someone reminded me that it’s been long time since I haven’t written anything. I won’t give any excuse frankly. I guess this is me. I’m not committed. I wrote last actual blog in May of 2016. Close to four years I didn’t write anything.

Here are some updates.

Somewhere around October of 2016, I bought new stuff all over again. I had purged all the girly stuff in 2013. Three years after that, I decided to give it a try again. I went all in. Not one outfit, not two – but around 6-7 outfits. I researched – figured out different styles. So it was mix batch of traditional Indian outfits and western. I also ended up buying close to five wigs of different hair lengths. A female friend from college came with me for an entire day and we shopped for an entire day. She’s an angel. I’m sure she was pretty exhausted by the end of the day but she didn’t complain.

Around same time in November of 2016, I matched with this girl on Tinder. She’s in film-making. She was curious to understand me. Surprisingly, she asked me if I wanted to buy new makeup set because I have already shopped for clothes a month before. I didn’t really have to think. It was a yes within seconds. We went to a local beauty shop and she guided me with the things I might need. While buying clothes with my college friend I wasn’t so conscious as we didn’t let anyone know that the clothes were for me. We pretended as if my college friend is buying it for herself. It was comfortable and safe. However, this time – the saleswoman knew. She knew that the makeup was for me. For first fifteen minutes of discomfort and awkwardness, she could tell I wasn’t so keen and looked distracted. So the friend who was with me jumped in and made things easier. The saleswoman was also very kind . It took time but by the end of shopping experience, I had forgotten about the discomfort I had in the beginning.

This friend who worked in films also offered to let me keep my stuff at her place. I used to stay with my family so I was constantly worried that they will find the bag which had all my girly stuff. She knew about it. So she offered to help.

In the same month, I went to her place. We knew why we were meeting. We met on Tinder. So of course, we were meeting, not to hook up – but to dress me up! How exciting! Haha! I was to going to dress almost after three years. I was so excited and nervous at the same time. Things had moved to fast. I met this girl ten days ago, she already helped me buy makeup and now I was about dress up as a woman in front of her. It was combination of both nervousness and excitement.

I tried different outfits and wigs. Some were disappointment. Some fit well. She put makeup on me. I find these moments special. Almost spiritual and sacred. I feel more close to woman when she does this to me. It’s magical. The idea of a woman transforming me into a woman – appearance wise. To those who have read my previous blog posts – they already know that I don’t really act feminine whether I’m dressed as a woman or otherwise. I’m just “a guy in a dress”. That’s who I’m. I am not gender-fluid. I’m not non-binary. I can’t relate to these labels/identities. I’m just a guy who sometimes love getting dressed in clothes that are traditionally assigned to women.

A perfect romantic life for me would be a woman who dresses me up and loves me for that very thing.

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I’m yet to experience that feeling. Reminds me of a dialogue from film “Before Sunrise”. I always felt inadequate and incomplete because I never had the feeling of being loved for the feminine part of me. I wish there were women who were madly and crazily in love with this idea – to find men in women’s outfits attractive and to make love to them – to find them irresistible and beautiful.

Let me shed the burden of masculinity for sometime. Love me. Hold me. Let me feel helpless and weak for sometime. Because that’s who we are sometimes. It has nothing to do with gender. I love being man but sometimes I want to feel different. Take care of me for sometime. Protect me. Comfort me. I’ll try my best to dress up for you, my love. I will dress up in clothes that you want me to wear. I’ll cook for you. But for sometime – let me take on your role and you take mine. Let me also feel… precious.

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I promise on other times, and most of the times, I will be that guy you want. I’ll love you, give up important things that matter to me for you, make sure you are alright. But can you please – sometimes – hug me, love me – intensely. When I’m dressed in prettiest outfit there is and your eyes scanning me and loving me for the feminine role I have taken on.

Women I know who liked cross-dressing men didn’t have this intense form of attraction or desire. It was always as if they were “okay with it“.

That’s all.

Sigh.

Sometimes I can be so selfish.

Fast forward four years, I came out to more female friends. Met many women on dating apps who weren’t romantically interested in me – but were curious to know me and be my friend. No regrets. I’m glad I’ve some of these friends who care about me.

The reason for writing this blog was to share how transient I’ve been. I am sometimes dying to dress up, sometimes hate for feeling that way, sometimes angry and confused, and sometimes completely indifferent. I’m 32 now. I have learnt there is not one way to feel about something your entire life. Feelings change. Of course, there are some exceptions. With cross-dressing, I have now settled with this mindset – it’s going to be full of contradictory feelings – on and off. I guess I have to live in the moment and let the feelings be.

It’s not permanent, and it never has been.

2 Comments

  1. This was a well written post. You have something to say and should post more often. While it would be nice for women to be attracted to men dressed as women that is a rare find indeed. I think you are blessed to have women friends who are there for you while you are dressed and who will assist you in your dressing and makeup and accept you into their society as ‘one of the girls.’

    • I’m lucky. I also owe that to the fact that I started telling my story to women. I got rejected way more than I was accepted. For every woman who accepted me, there were 100 who didn’t. I learned that it’s important to put yourself out there to find those who like you for who you are. Easier said than done.

      I’m lazy but I’ll try writing often. I’m happy that you found my blog interesting. 🙂

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