Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the "Story So Far" Page above this and the "New Readers" tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Sunday, 21 July 2013

A life rewritten pt2

Ah, modern studenthood, I wish I could claim to
have studied as much as- wait! She hasn't
written anything!
Way back in this blog I posted a musing on what would have happened if I had been born female and ended up being quite a serious look at the dynamics of my parents and the effect my birth as a male likely had upon them. It's well worth a read if you're into that kind of thing beyond wish-fulfillment. The fact that I titled that little escapade as 'part 1' shows that I always meant to come back to the topic and now, over a year later, I suppose that time has come. Since that year old post I have found more followers, thank you to you people who know who you are, and seem to have gained many casual readers too. Thank you to anyone that takes the time to read these writings and especially to people such as Dee, Caitlyn/Calvin and Leslie-Ann who continue to comment and make me view things anew or, lately, just join in with things that seem to be going my way for once.

Now I shift the milieu and tackle a different form of life-rewriting. It is in my University years and not so much a question of if I had been born female, to be honest I would be writing fantasy of the worst possible kind if I were to try that (not to say I won't do it at some point as a thought experiment) but rather a question of confidence. The "what if" this time is principally based on the idea of what might have happened had I had the confidence to take my friends at their word in a throwaway conversation in the bar late one evening. Let me set the scene!

Props to her for not using a straw and
wearing a kick-ass corset.
It was late into a bar crawl, I was doing my usual in the summer bar crawls of not having any alcohol but subsisting, along with many others, on copious amounts of Pepsi (at 50p a can, this was good financial sense) and we were having a competition with the juke box. We each went up individually, without announcing it to the others, and put on a random number of songs. Then, having queued them well in advance, we tried to guess about half an hour later who had requested what. I chose Girls and Boys by Blur for one of my choices, reasoning that Kristen, a friend, was more a fan of Blur than anyone else and the song was obscure enough that no one else would be able to guess it was one of my favourites from my pre-University days. There were a number of obvious things that I missed in my estimations. Not least the fact that Kristen would not be fooled because she knew she didn't choose it, and the fact that, apparently, the song is about cross-dressing and, finally, the fact that Kristen had a few suspicions of her own.

So it was that Kristen correctly guessed the song was my choice. Then, in a surprising twist, she cornered me and asked if I were a transvestite. After a pregnant pause she reassured me that everyone would be supportive and that they were all my friends and that if I wanted to dress in women's clothes no one would think any less of me. In fact, she hinted that she might be on hand to help me choose clothes to match my style and that such a thing would be fine with her. I stammered a few times, mouth gone very dry, and said very little. She pushed, I eventually forced out a laughably stupid and transparent denial, she accepted it with good grace and promised not to raise the subject again unless I asked. I never asked.

But what if I had? What if, when I was cornered, I had instead stammered out an affirmative?

At this stage I had never been fully dressed en femme. I had worn some knickers back in my first year of University and toyed with string based bondage in Sixth Form and a little bit in that first year. I had bought that poster of Princess Leia that every geek-guy had back in the day but had gone no further. I had gone through a complicated ruse with e-mails to discuss the topic obliquely with a CofE minister and had discovered fictionmania, where I had been fascinated by the stories where the main character cross-dressed and found more acceptance dressed than when not.

This is the sort of thing I expect. Note the tightness at the
knee. And, of course, that last gasp of the 90s in the
platform flip flops. Totally my thing.
I think the first change would have been a well-meaning outing by Kristen to the wider group of my potential transvestite habits. It would have been followed by a badgering to go shopping. I would have, of course, caved pretty quickly. I think she would have been correct in her assessment, I don't think I would have lost any friends in this outing, though I may have found it next to impossible to continue my doomed mooning over two females in the group - this may have turned out to be a positive. Certainly one level of stress would have been lifted from my latter months at University - it may even have helped me stay focussed on studying rather than surfing fictionmania. I may not have been able to join in the 'Man' conversations as easily with David and Trevor in the latter stages of the year but I suspect that we would have remained friends. Instead I would most likely have been drawn into a closer friendship with Kristen, her paramour (and now husband) Jeremy, and their close friends Nigella, Georgia, Mick and Siona.

Or, you know, perhaps a dark red.
I like this image because I feel that I could emulate her
as a cross-dresser. I love the Devil-may-care hairdo and
the fact she is enjoying her wine. And why shouldn't
I would most likely have gone on a shopping expedition the following day and bought some new clothes. I may even have worn them about the house that Kristen, Jeremy, David and I shared on a more daily basis. I feel almost certain that I would have discovered long skirts, long tops and heels a lot sooner than I did. Over the course of a few weeks I think I could have been coaxed to attend a bar crawl en femme and maybe even brave campus a few times in small amounts of dress. I would have lost that random fear that to dress one must pass and would have been able to mix and match my attire. One very likely upshot is that I would have taken to wearing skirts and dresses more than trousers and so would have found my home visits even more constricting than I did at the time. It is eminently possible that I would have changed drinking habits. Being part of a different clique would likely have seen me dispense with the vodka and cokes that I favoured for white wine, more favoured by this different set. I think I would help with the cooking more and would have been convinced to make more of an effort to match Kristen's patterns for cleaning and housework than my own. (We were both cleaners, the others didn't really go much for it, and the main issue was simply one of when we cleaned, I preferred the morning, she preferred the evenings).

Instead of spending hours with David watching him play games I could not afford nor run on my ancient desktop I would have spent more time with Kristen in her room studying and discussing English, History and post-modernism. I would have probably allowed more physical contact too over those next few weeks, if my sojourns into being dressed in 2005, some five years later, are anything to go by. Without the added pressure of trying to impress two disinterested females for those months I think I may even have come out of my shell a little more too. All this would have aided my personality, made me a little more mellow and forgiving. I can see how I would have been a tad more compassionate generally and therefore more open to having proper relationships with my friends. I may even have actually taken a planning role in looking for an MA rather than sort of half-heartedly pootling about a few days before the deadline and ending up in Leeds.

Certainly I would have gained extra confidence at University, I would have been free to be more and I would have a different set of close friends that would have lasted longer than the circle I did have in the actual history. It was a missed opportunity. However, it would not be without its pitfalls, as I would have been shaken from the path that meant I met Tilly and our children would not have been born. That said, I would have met someone and we would probably have ended up married (given my views on sex and marriage) and with children down the line. That theoretical relationship may well have been more accepting of my cross-dressing as I would likely have been cross-dressed when we met. Does that make it 'better' than now? Probably not. Just very different. Of course, like last time, anything beyond that point becomes very difficult to judge indeed.

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