Feeling Validated as a Girl

So there’s this joke about a guy who really knows how to make someone feel like a woman … he ignores her while watching football on TV, with a beer in his hand and while yelling at the referee and the family dog.

Moving from male culture into female culture has certainly been an eye-opener for me. Something on that subject happened to me last night. Here’s the story:

* * *

I’m still not super-happy about my lack of cleavage, and my face still looks too androgynous by my standards. But, I do what I can with what I have. For example, I exercise my legs and butt so that they look good. And, thanks to good DNA, the passage of time, and a great hairdresser, I have long, light-blonde hair that looks like it was “permed” … which it wasn’t; it naturally dries like that.

I’m also very aware that moving and sounding like a girl are part of the entire integrated package of living my life as a girl, so I enjoy sounding and moving ever better. The former still needs lots of work; the latter not. Whether on 6″ stilettos or flat sandals, my walk is pretty much as feminized as the genetically integrated girls I know, and arguably more so yet.

My basic point is that it’s pretty debatable how female I look from the front, but from behind I look pretty darn good. I even have a curvy butt and smooth, shapely legs.

Last night, the weather was lovely. I went for a night-time stroll in the neighborhood near my office, which is in a small town that for the most part has wonderfully open-minded and nice people, but also a few redneck assholes.

There was some traffic passing by, uneventfully … except for a white GMC or Chevy pickup truck that was about to roar past, and then slowed down and almost stopped. The driver was maybe 18 or 20, as far as I could tell through the open truck window. He yelled something like “hah” or “yah” … and then sped away. There was someone else in the truck next to him. It was hard to make out details but it looked like another guy, approximately the same age. This being Saturday night, this was presumably their idea of fun.

After they’d left, I decided to go into my office and lock the door before they had time to go around the block and do a repeat performance.

I thought about the experience, and realized eventually that they weren’t picking on me as a transgender girl; they were picking on me as a girl, period. Interesting … so this is what it’s like to be a girl. I’d just experienced my first cat-calling.

And, almost as if on cue, today I found this video that parodies cat-callers. It’s really funny, and it helped me realize that this sort of thing happens to girls, transgender or otherwise. The video was both reassuring and perplexing. So, even when they’re adults, some guys are mean to random girls. Wow.


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