3 comments on “Confessions of a Confused Tomboy – Gender Dysmorphia in Clothes

  1. It’s hard sometimes when you’ve SO committed yourself to a path, flaunted it, wore it loud and proud, and then maybe want to do something different for a day. Not because you suddenly have this “revelation”, but because you feel like being different.

    For me my biggest comment to you would be that you just be yourself and do what makes YOU happy. If you want to wear a dress, do it! Screw what other people think, isn’t that what the whole gender switching tomboy thing is really about anyways?

    In the search for equality of the sexes as far as social perception goes you should be as free to wear a miniskirt as you are to wear pants. Neither change the fantastic person that YOU are. Heck, go naked and see what they say then :D

  2. in my life, clothes are a major symbol of my transness and of my struggles with gender expression.

    you see, i’m not confused about my gender. my gender is simple; it’s non-binary and it’s kinda out there in the gender galaxy. i am, however, totally puzzled about my gender expression.

    i often feel obligated to thwart other people when they try to gender me. i feel like i should try to make people go, “what is it?” when they see me. i feel that, at least, i should make a token gesture in this direction. for example, wearing guys’ jeans to offset my rockin’ tits.

    really, though, obligation can be a limiting concept and is often imagined. i can wear tight jeans whenever i please— and nobody has the right to comment because this is MY gender expression. likewise, wear dresses whenever the mood strikes you. just tell people to go die in a hole when they make inappropriate comments— that’s what i do.

  3. I recently realized that my reticence to wear girly clothes or dresses (even though I love sewing them – wtf?) is due in part to the autism thing – my synesthesia can’t stand certain textures and fabrics, even to the point that I can’t stand the feel of a skirt randomly brushing against my legs. Freaks me out. If I’m feeling awesome, it’s less bothersome and I can manage the outfit for the length of time I am required to wear it (up to about 5 hours is my limit). If I’m tired or stressed or overwhelmed, hell no buster give me my jeans and sweatshirt kthxbye!

    The other thing I hate is getting comments on my clothes, even if they’re compliments. I don’t like being noticed and I don’t like attention that I do not ask for (makes walking down the street in some cities VERY difficult). Why do people feel the need to point out what I’m wearing? I was once at work at the library wearing my husband’s – MY HUSBAND’S – t-shirt, and some dude came up to me and wanted to know all about why my shirt said “black mamba” ( in 1/2 inch high letters. I kid you not).

    For that reason I often don’t even go for the awesome cool topatoco or snorgtees stuff because I just can’t stand the comments (or, alternatively, I’ll be really pissed NOT to get comments on my t-shirt that features velociraptor solving a Rubik’s cube. Come on people! That’s good shit!)

    Another problem I have is shoes. I have several pairs of cute high heels that I have never worn (one pair is red stilettos my mother bought me because she insisted I needed to own a pair. That woman is strange). I don’t wear them because they’re uncomfortable and my orthotics don’t fit in them, and if I don’t wear my orthos my knees soon start to hurt.

    But the even more pressing reason I don’t wear those shoes is because I cannot abide wearing ANYTHING I could not run, jump, or climb a tree in. Shit happens, you know? I don’t want to be trapped in a parking garage with bad guys chasing me and have to take the time to rip the idiotic footwear off so that I can outrun them (I run very fast. When not hobbled by heels). Or what if I see something cool and adventurous over there and want to explore it? Or what if something cute were stuck in a tree and in need of rescuing?

    I have recently been looking for a snazzy pair of boots that would be appropriate to wear with a skirt or something nice, but would have lug soles so I could still kick ass in them.

    And I’ve digressed. Ah well. As far as gender normativity… Dunnoh what to tell you other than I hear you. If people would refrain from reacting to a change in wardrobe as if it’s some huge big mf’ing deal, it wouldn’t be so difficult. As such, people suck. And that’s my misanthropic conclusion for today.

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