Sometimes, we just get too far into our own head. That can mean several different things; It can mean we get too involved in the thought processes that lead to our decision making, we second-guess ourselves, we over-think the simple things, or we just don’t like what we see when we get in there. Here lately, I’ve been guilty of all of those to one degree or another. That has led to me not being as active here on my blog, or even as active with my dressing as I’d like to be.
When it comes to getting too involved in the decision making processes, I’ve found too many excuses not to dress or practice my makeup when I very well could have or should have done those things. Even to my own mental health’s detriment. I stepped away from dressing as Caden for about a month and a half if not two months, and suddenly I found myself in the grips of my PTSD, in a way I had not been since before my diagnosis. As it turns out, Caden is probably my biggest saving grace when it comes to my PTSD. She is my healthiest outlet, and at the same time, my greatest coping mechanism.
As for second guessing myself; I haven’t felt attractive as either a male or as Caden of late. Not sure why, it just feels that way. This isn’t me shopping/fishing for compliments, it’s just me venting my pains and frustrations. I’m not sure what else I can do to feel handsome or pretty as the case may present itself, or as I may present myself. I’ve considered updating my mal wardrobe. But alas, I actually hate to invest money in it too much. I’m content with a minimalist approach to that wardrobe, and indulge my Caden wardrobe. When I want to indulge Caden’s wardrobe. But for the first time in my life, I’m sort of starting to second guess myself as Caden in a way. If you will recall, on the cruise there was that supposed gentleman I thought might have been taking my photo at dinner, and then most recently, while on an outing with Miss Girlfriend, I was posing for some full length shots near a historic house here in Savannah. A tour bus approached, and as they did so, I could hear the hostess make mention of the house I was standing in front of. She then went to point out something near me, and made said,
“…over by that woman,” a few chuckles “Yes, that’s a real woman.”
Yeah, that made me feel loads better about myself. Nobody wants to know, think, or suspect their femininity is in question. I know I certainly don’t enjoy it. But I suddenly felt like I stood out like a sore thumb.
I guess you could say the over-thinking of things can fall into the same category of things as letting us cloud our decision making processes. But I have found that I over think the simple things to the point it takes enjoyment out of dressing. Like when I can’t get my eyes just quite right. Which of course stems from not practicing thing like I ought to. But fighting with my eye makeup creates so much frustration in me that I lose focus of why I’m dressing, and the fun, thrill, and enjoyment go right out the window for me. I might recapture what I need as the day or evening progresses, but it is an iffy proposition. Or over thinking an outfit for an outing. I have so many beautiful things I want to wear, and I dress so little that I feel like I will never get to wear it all. And there are certain things that I do not wear because I feel as though I’m cheating myself by wearing them. For instance, I bought some work out wear so I could dress comfortably around Rachel, since she tends to wear that sort of thing all the time. But it’s not femme enough to me, I feel as though I’m forsaking my femme self too much by wearing it, and that there are so many more elegant or feminine things I can wear to feel pretty.
Then there are the things I just don’t like to see when I get inside my own head. After that bad experience with that other crossdresser, I’ve found that I’ve little if much desire to socialize with other crossdressers. I know it’s not fair to lump other CD’s in with that one. But it’s not so much the other crossdressers that bother me. It’s that I worry about being outed when amongst other dressers; or for the fact that I’m with other dressers. I think the thing that bothered me the most that night out with that other CD; was that she was very open to everyone about being CD. However when I dress, I dress to blend in, to fit in. That option was taken from me by her that night, either through her action and behaviors or outright choice. I think I fear the same happening again. Not that there are many classy crossdressers around these parts. That was the entire reason my Sorority failed to get a strong foothold to begin with. But even if I were to travel to meet other CD’s, what happens if I get outed against my will again? Or what about the rule of two? If you have two crossdressers in any given group, the likelihood of passing a a woman goes right out the window, because it’s like that second CD suddenly erases all doubt about your genetic gender.
So you see, I’ve simply waded too deep into my own head. And now I’ve brought you in with me. I do apologize ever so fervently.
Ever & Always,