My Digit Ratio is Very Femme

"Tell me who are you? "
Peter Townsend

I was reading about the digit ratio.      Wikipedia has a fairly extensive discussion

On average Males have been found to have lower ratios of their index finger length to their ring finger length.  The average difference in these ratios is small.   For males the average ratio is .947, and for females it is .965.    I measured my own, and I was close to 1.0.
  Yes!
 I knew I was depraved because I was deprived, I just didn't realize I was deprived of pre-natal androgen.
But seriously, I realize that this may not even indicate that in my case.  The average ratios do not necessarily apply to the specifics of my genetic inheritance.  ( I should measure my brother and sister's fingers, perhaps while they sleep)  and I have been mucking about in this literature, the scientific basis of gender variance and finding that the answers of science do not necessarily add up to self-knowledge or peace of mind.
Perhaps my deprivation based depravity, is based itself on depravity in a previous life.  Perhaps my depravity however it is caused, only exists in the blindness of the culture in which i was raised.  Perhaps I am willfully depraved.
However my gender dysphoria and associated behavior is caused, I find that understanding certain facts about it, does not necessarily add up to solutions to my gender dilemma, which basically is  Can I sit on the fence forever.... which perhaps I can, in fact I think I probably will.   But fence sitting can be awful uncomfortable, and I wonder where comfort can be found.
Going to Florida this week,  the Everglades to birdwatch, and later in the week the Keys.  In fact I expect to be on Duvall Street on Halloween.  I can't really see myself not dressing for that occasion, but that probably means that I will have to pay for a checked bag.  It is neither easy or cheap to be a part-time girl.

May I See Your Gender Identification II

There is a movement afoot to reject the gender binary.  One facet of this movement is an acknowledgement that the gender binary, may be flawed.  What is a male, and what is a female?  This determination is needed for traditional marriage, and traditional post gold medal investigations at the Olympics.  The athletic world where the perils of this common sense distinction have been well established, has taken to avoiding the issue where possible.  Wikipedia: Gender_verification_in_sports  The problems of answering this question in the case of marriage, are discussed in a very informative blog:  Intersex Roadshow.   Being raised catholic, I have looked at that perspective, and written in detail about it, on my new alternate blog, the one where I am pretentious and boring,  (Ok, more pretentious and boring):   The Other Side of That Life I've Been Living.
All these problems.  Why not just chuck the whole thing.   Recently a friend had an exchange with some young people on Fetlife.  My friend was interested in creating coalition and bonding across the generations for transgender people, perceiving a split between TOG and TNG.  The young people, most of whom descrribed themselves as Queer, or Gender Queer, seemed uninterested, because the older generation of transgender people in their opinion was poisoned by indoctrination in the gender binary.  A clear example would be folks who described themselves as transexuals, and went into a doctors care, establishing their "femaleness" to said doctors satisfaction as per legal requirements, and then were permitted sex re-assignment to the other side of the binary.  "Hooey" my young friends would have said if they know any such quaint phrases.  Secondly, they didn't regard being trans and being so very important that it needed to be worked on.   This was one of their identities,  woman, lesbian, queer being others.  They were not by their own descriptions hung up on the gender labels.

So relax Grandma....(Grandpa?)

My instincts finely honed on the generational conflicts of the 60's is to give these folks a virtual hug and a right on sister.  Not that I don't believe that there will continue to be a gender binary  centered around love and family etc. , but only that the ascendancy of this binary to relationships of power, dress, interests, car you drive, cigarette you smoke etc etc.. ad nauseum...is oppresive to everyone, not just those who straddle the gender fence.
That being said, I am clearly a creature of a culture for which the empire of gender was big, even as it was crumbling.   I femulate, and I masculinizie myself when that is required at work or with family.  In that framework, I fret and fret.   Am I looking weird at the mall.  Am I looking weird at the family re-union.  I seek help.  The philosophers provide guidance.   Free your mind. The rest will follow.

May I See Your Gender Identification Please?

"I'm not dumb but I can't understand why she walked like a woman, but talked like a man"
Ray Davies

In the last post, I spoke about my wish to walk the walk.  And so in my flats, long skirted, modestly made up, pretty blouse, girly scarf,  I have indeed twice recently walked the walk in the Malls.  And there I have found that I can roam the stores without incident. (Or almost.  A young couple saw me walking by the booth that they were selling something or other from, and asked me to pose with them for pictures. Does this mean I am eligible for my own reality show?)   But generally, I can browse comfortably, and with family friendly restrooms,  one of the great impediments to my peripatetic adventures is mitigated, (See Ordinary Life)   And so I can have a most pleasant outing en-femme, all by myself whenever I wish.

But these adventures, have highlighted some issues that I otherwise, have avoided.  The old Belinda (the one from last month!) generally never really confronted the issue of passing or getting read with any seriousness.  My social circle, of course know me.  I don't sit with my legs spread and my panties showing, so I don't get corrected very often,  And a number of good friends, don't even consider trying to pass, even though they crossdress, so they are usually without criticism or advice.

I however am different, or at least I think so.  I would pass if I could, so I am confronted with my number one give away,  my voice.   In the mall, this translates into a reticence about talking.  Cruel irony, because as a male no one wants to talk to me, but as a femulator, I am more approachable, and anyway, store clerks talk to you, and i feel self-conscious talking back.  Bummer as we used to say in the bad old days.  To a lesser extent my walk and gestures could certainly be improved, but I have worked on them.

"How do you feel?

I feel real phoney when my name is Phil

or was that Bill."

The Red Telephone,   Arthur Lee,  Love.

Or in my case perhaps Belinda.   So the issue in a nutshell is  "How can you occupy one skin with two genders, and remain sane... (or perhaps a more modest goal... remain uninstitutionalized).  I have been reading a little of the writings from TNG... Trekkies note, I am not talking about Data, but rather youth.
My impression is that they approach the whole thing differently,  but I will leave that for my next post.
.

Extra ordinary Life

      Trans Toons by Bethanyangelstar.deviantart.com.

"If I were young again I'd pay attention to that little known dimension, a taste of endless time."
Chris Smither,


It was only a couple of months ago that I described my desire to experience more of the ordinary life of those most extraordinary creatures, women.  That was not followed up by weekly outings, but now i hope to do so in the new year.  I find myself in retirement, more and more dressed femme or androgynous.  But like an alcoholic who has been maintaining for a while with a steady diet of wine spritzers,  I am feeling a powerful thirst, and dare I say need to slap on a skirt, and head to the mall and shop!  Like a deranged participant observer I need to be among them in their natural habitat,  the dress shops, salons and tea rooms.  In the Xmas season, I did just that, and even tried on some outfits for New Year's Eve.  As expected, the malls were a welcoming world of friendliness, with family friendly restrooms, and transgender friendly fitting rooms.  And when made, as my unfeminine voice guaranteed everytime I opened my mouth, there was always a smile, and the occasional stare of some other shopper, whether cold or warm, was a matter of indifference to me now that i know that the ground will not come up to swallow me whole, and consign me to some tranny hell where the drag is ill fitting and the fabrics of the coarsest wool.
As I am more and more out, I increasingly confront my bi-gendered existence, wondering if such an existence represents a dissociation in my personality.  Like Eve (the all about one, not the one with a taste for  apples), do I represent two personalities, each barely on speaking terms.  My first impression was perhaps, but I need to think more on it.  I don't for instance fully represent my masculine side, the one with children and even gasp grandchildren, and ex-wives, and co-workers.  I speak here as Belinda, who is mostly unattached, and rather narcissistic at times.  But the few who know both sides of me, don't see much difference (Haha)  And perhaps they are right.
So another year evaporates and despite the usual apocalyptic nonsense, another stands poised to begin.  There won't be an infinite supply of them, i increasingly realize, and so they never have been more precious.  I hope only for a few extraordinary adventures this year.  And to become fully comfortable with my own skin, (and to moisturize it daily!)  My wishes are the same for you, unless you are a boy in which case you should have the adventures, but moisturizing is optional.

Androgyne About Town.

"Ah here's the androgyne! Helen cried as I entered the room".
 Miss High Heels. 1931, privately published, Author unknown.

 Androgyne. A word that has always had a certain fascination since I first encountered it in the quote above. It has been a long slow awakening for me. Fetishist? Transvestite? Transsexual? Should I  finally reject them all and embrace the taunt that Helen had tossed at Denise,  "Androgyne".

Andros and Gynos  , male and female united in a single individual.  In the tantric traditions, the divine androgyne is an ideal form

Called ArdhanarIshvara  (ardha-nari-ishvara;  half - woman - god), the androgynous divinity is worshipped as a union beyond the oppositions of male and female.   Alas in Hindu culture, those who come closest to a physical manifestation of this synthesis, the Hijra, or third gender, MtF transgendered individuals  are not necessarily treated so well.  (Cancel the flight to Delhi)   Prostitution being a common profession, due in part to the usual discrimination against TG individuals one sees in the largely traditional society.

I frequently these days at home dress androgynously.  I wear bra and panties, perhaps woman's slacks, camisole with my modest titties prominent, open shirt over it  very light makeup, if any.  Some rings, necklace,  boy earrings.   My hair is in a pony tail, with a femme flourish, a nice hair attachment or teased out bangs.  femme socks.  Out I dress boy or girl.  Ok  maybe slightly swishy boy, or girl.

This is all on my mind, because I plan to go in a couple of days to a "munch" which I was invited to soemtime ago by a charming woman who recommended the group to me.  A munch is basically a meeting in a diner or something like that where kinky people can come and meet each other in an informal setting.  ( sort of like the school dance for adults)  The munch is in a restaurant during regular business hours, so they request that people not look too outlandish.   She told me that I passed as a woman, so I could attend the munch as one.  (Did I mention that she was utterly charming if not perhaps completely truthful)  But I don't really intend to do that since I have never been to this place, and I am going by myself.
So I thought I would consciously go androgynously, dressing sort of as I dress at home,  effeminate boy/girl.  

I have never really consciously done this, so I am a little nervous,  Its a boy/girl world,  If  in a dress, they call you Maam, and in jeans they call you Sir.   Androgyne?  I guess they will just say Hey You.

And there is one big problem that the androgyne faces, that the ardhanarIshvara never had to confront,

Bathrooms.    There are Boys & Girls rooms ( or perhaps Buoys and Gulls...i live by the shore).  And while there is occasionally the blessed unisex w.c.   There are never specific accommodations for the androgyne, which is to say, I need to choose, and to choose the Lady's room.. well that it only an option for me in full femme mode, and usually I am in a place that I know very well.  I hate  loud noises... screams, police sirens.

So there you have it except for my jacket and my sneakers, I won't likely be wearing a stitch of men's clothing,..... tits, hairdo, jewels .... not fabulous... but certainly not the repellant drab.

 Still  (sigh!!)  it must be the Gents......

Oh the life of the androgyne is filled with humiliations.... but not quite what Denise nee Dennis imagined.