Gender Fluid or Lazy

Now that I’m officially retired and enjoying myself more than ever, I find I don’t dress it up as much. Actually, I spend most of my times in shorts, t-shirts and an old baseball cap. (I live in Florida.) After so many years of dressing for work, most of them in a suit and tie, then coming out as my true self and wearing far more appropriate clothes: dresses, separates, heels, makeup and purses. Everyday I felt “noticed” for being Trans* and judged for everything I did and how I looked. I endeavored to be lady-like and professional; never, cheesy, slutty or inappropriate. I imagined the novelty would wear down, but every time I entered a room, I got looks and stares. It got tedious and I ignored it as much as possible. All of my cisgender girl friends told me this was how life worked for women and I should get over it.

I would now call myself a woman of leisure, but my dear wife keeps the ever-present Honey-Do list on the refrigerator. Every time we complete a project, there always seems to be another two entries on the bottom. My fingernails and manicure are destroyed. I’ve paint spots on my arms and legs, not to mention in my hair and bruises, cuts and scrapes everywhere, and I can’t imagine how they got there. The opportunities to dress up and go out are there, but usually by 5:00 p.m. we’re ready to put our feet up and have happy hour.

My wife is in the same place. She dressed up all her working life, and she hasn’t put on a dress in a very long time. We drive by our favorite clothing stores and don’t have even a bad reason to go in and look around. Because I am enjoying being free and easy with my dress, I began to think, maybe I’m Gender Fluid. Now let me finish before you pooh-pooh my idea. It’s not a cop out. Some days I dress like the yardman and some days, I’m the mistress of the manor. As we know, the gender continuum is never steady. I love who I am either way. Isn’t that the definition of Gender Fluid? Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t! (Don’t send me nasty e-mails, please, these are the jokes!)

I love who I’ve become. I’ve worked damned hard to get here and it doesn’t matter how I look on the outside, inside, I’m Cate O’Malley, 100 % woman. If I’m in shorts, t-shirt, garden hat, old sneakers, no bra and dirt under my fingernails, I’m just as much a woman as I’ve always been. Am I Gender Fluid or Lazy? It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to put on my favorite linen frock to clean out the gutters and I won’t wear cutoffs and old blue work shirt to the symphony. I can be who I want to be and at the tender age of sixty-eight, I’m free to be me.

Tags: featured, Identity, Transgender

Category: Transgender Body & Soul, Transgender Fun & Entertainment