Driving through town, it was impossible to miss the teenaged girl walking along, expressing her joy in being herself. Her hair flaming red, she wore bright shiny fuchsia coloured leggings, with a short black skirt and black jacket over a shiny gold top. She practically danced down the street, and nobody thought anything of it, even in a small town. She was being herself.
My feelings of inadequacy as a male were there in stark relief. Not only am I not supposed to ‘be’ that joyful (because apparently men don’t do “publicly happy” in my culture), but even if I was allowed to be joyful, I am not allowed to ‘look’ or dress that joyfully.
It is important to note, to be fair, the fact that a fifty-something female dressing as she was would also receive a negative reception (there goes the crazy lady). So even if I transitioned tomorrow, that kind of self expression is out of range for one my age.
To give this rant a point, let’s just say that I wish I could express even ‘really happy’ in my life. That would be something exceptional. Truly joyful is not likely that is sure. Women of my age group are allowed to express themselves and their joy publicly, even if their dress would be somewhat subdued compared to the young lady in the introduction.
It makes me sad to think of what I missed because I was beaten down back then, when I was young enough to get away with joyful. It is really eating at me to think that but for a twist of genetic fate, my brain and my body might have matched, and I might have expressed true JOY in my attitude and in my dress, at some point in my life. When it comes to loving who you are and physically expressing your joy in being alive, the façade sucks,
Rant ends here.