My Fem Place

Plush

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 16:44:00 +0000

I never played with dolls. I never dressed as a girl when I was growing up either. I say this because people often ask me at what age I started dressing, or became CiCi. I think the answer to that, for me, is fairly complicated. (Then again, maybe it's much more simple.) I'll let you decide.

I didn't start dressing until I was 40, and as a teen, I never felt like a "woman trapped in the body of a man." I know a lot of other girls started dressing quite young...as children. That wasn't me. First of all, I never had a sister, so I didn't have a sister's closet to raid, and I didn't have access to dolls to play with. I also had a big family, so even if I had had a sister, I wouldn't have had much privacy in which to explore my fem side any way. I lived in a house full of boys and I lived the boy life. (I even subscribed to a magazine called, "Boy's Life.") I played sports, built tree forts, captured frogs in the pond, and I enjoyed it all immensely.

But, looking back now, I can see all the signs. Maybe I didn't dress at age 6 or 10 or 14, but I definitely had longings. Longings that I denied, or repressed, or simply ignored. So I didn't dress in panties or skirts or play with dolls, but I was always the "softest" of my brothers. Not as into fighting and roughhousing, quick to cry, painfully sentimental, and drawn to so many girlish things.

I particularly remember flipping through the Sears Catalog with my brothers at Christmas time. They would flip to pages filled with boy toys (guns, grenades and GI Joes) or model cars or even tools, but I liked plush. "Plush" is the toy industry's term for stuffed animals. Those cute, big (or sometimes small) plush-covered animals that I would arrange on my bed like brightly colored decorative pillows, and I had a lot of them. My brothers told me that it was girlie to have all those stuffed animals, or at the very least, childish. (I used to take the animals off my bed and hide them in the closet when company came.)

Now I was always an imaginative kid. I liked creating little worlds. Building towns in our sandbox or castles at the beach, and then devising stories about what went on in those little make-believe worlds. BTW...I really loved watching "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood" and his daily trips into the town of Make Believe. Boy, did I take endless shit from my brothers and friends for watching that show! Once again, it was considered both girlie and childish. (And now, years later, I think perhaps there was a link between those two.)

My plush animals were their own little world. They all had names and personalities. They all talked to me, and I talked back. But somehow, while I considered this imaginative, others considered it girlie. There wasn't a lot of tension about this—as there might have been if I had been playing with actual dolls&mash;but I do remember it being a frequent topic of conversation. I do remember my parents telling me that I should put my animals away. That it was time I grew up.

But I didn't want to grow up. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I loved being a kid. As I entered junior high, I noticed that other kids (girls and boys) were becoming men and women, but I wanted no part of that. I wanted desperately to put on the brakes, to remain a child.

Now I wonder, did I not want to grow up? Or did I not want to become a man? This is a difficult question for me, because at that age, I don't think I really understood what becoming a man or becoming a woman really meant. Is it all instinctual? Did I somehow sense at 11 or 12 all that growing up would involve? The sex? The gender roles? Society's gender-specific expectations?

At that age I knew nothing of sex. Women were a total mystery. Men (and older boys) were just plain mean, and the dating/flirting that I saw going on in junior high was absolutely terrifying to me. Others were eager to dive in. I desperately wanted to stay on dock, high and dry.

That's what makes me wonder now. That connection between being confused about my gender and my desire to remain a child. To never grow up and become that thing I never wanted to be—a man.(They sometimes call it Peter Pan Syndrome, but I don't remember Peter being a sissy or a dresser. He was all boy. He fought pirates!)

For me, all those mixed feelings seemed to manifest themselves in my love of plush. My stuffed animals as I called them. One little boy's connection to two very different dreams...one (never admitted) of becoming a woman and one (very obvious) of not wanting to grow up, of not wanting to become a man.

Honestly, I still have problems with maturity. Taking on adult responsibilities. More than a few of my ex-girlfriends mentioned to me that I needed to grow up, and maybe it's time that I did. But not as a man, and not as a woman, as something different and separate and distinctly me. I'm called a transgender person, but I dislike that term. The prefix "trans" means moving, becoming, changing.

But I haven't changed!

I was born this way. A little bit boy, a little bit girl, and a whole lot of neither. Maybe now I dress differently or behave differently. I am now more willing to show my femme side. But to me, that's just a sign of me being more comfortable with who I am. The person I am, the person inside, the person I was born—hasn't changed a bit. In other words, I was always a dresser. I was always CiCi, and that's the simple answer to the complicated question.

I didn't start "this" at any certain age. I have always been "this." Whatever "this" is. I'm still soft. I'm still sentimental, and much too quick to cry, and I still love baseball and catching frogs.

I remember finding my plush animals years later in our attic. They were under a garbage bag covering. They were still arranged perfectly, sitting pretty on a child's rocking chair. But now, mice had burrowed into them to make their homes or to steal the stuffing for their nests.

I was struck by how happy that made me. You'd think I would have been horrified. But it all seemed strangely appropriate to me. Because isn't that what we all really want? All that I was longing for all those years before was nice soft warm place in this world in which to make a home. A place that isn't make-believe, but real, and yet still soft.

The mice had done it. Now it was my turn.

Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy.
xoxo,
CiCi

The Kids are Alright

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 17:04:00 +0000

Okay. That's a lie. The kids really aren't all right. Young T's are as troubled and confused and afraid as ever. But something's going on. Something good I hope. I see more and more young T's online. I hear more and more about gay and transgender support groups for teens. There are certainly more movies and TV shows that portray T-life (with mixed results of course). But at least we're not totally invisible. And, of course, today's kids have something we didn't have. The Internet.

While girls my age (40-something) hid in shame and secrecy, the young T's of today (both m2f and f2m) can log on and immediately find friends and support online. (Of course they can also find danger and deception, but that's a topic for another day.)
Today I'd like to keep things positive. Because I'm excited about the idea of more t-girls exploring their fem sides earlier in life.

To me, this movement (if it is indeed a movement) all starts and ends with the Internet. I remember trying to research crossdressing and transvestitism in the 70's and 80's. Not only was there not much information available, it was very hard to find, and usually pretty dry or worse, degrading. One had to sneak around the public library or the school library. Or buy t-porn from sketchy bookstores on the sketchy side of town. Movies at the time rarely, if ever, portrayed t-girls. And if they did, they resorted to demeaning characterizations or overly flamboyant stereotypes.

Not surprisingly, very little of that was appealing to me.

I've learned much more about all of this since I logged on about 8 years ago. I can't even remember how I went about it. I honestly think I stumbled upon some sites. (I was probably surfing bdsm sites; I've always been into that.) I remember it being quite a revelation. I wasn't seeing over-the-top drag queens (although I love that look and have been known to lay it on pretty heavy with the makeup myself from time to time!). And I wasn't seeing drugged-out streetwalkers either. (Although they certainly exist in every city.)

For lack of a better phrase, what I was seeing — for the first time — was the "girl next door" look. Some of the girls were cuter than others. Some more polished in their femme presentation. And some definitely had better make up skills and a better sense of style. But I took one look (I can't even remember the name of the site now. Sorry.)... I took one look and thought... this is me. Or, this could be me. I can do this. I can be this.
I'd never had that feeling before. I never had a role model that helped me to see where I fit into all this. But now I did.

You probably know the progression from there. I chatted in the tg/cd chat rooms. I met many other girls and admirers. I started buying clothes and accessories online. I took a few photos. Posted the good ones. And basically entered the online t-scene.

In fact, my name CiCi comes from the initials, C.C. — which stood for Cyber Chick. And that's what I was. A cyber girl. At that point, I didn't think I'd ever actually go out. Or meet anyone. Or date. I thought admitting my "special hobby" to an anonymous group of like-minded souls was about as far as I'd ever carry this. Little did I know!

My point here — and I know, I know, I sometimes have trouble getting to my point — is that I started doing all this at age 40! But now girls are doing this in their teens. Or their early 20's. And I wonder what kind of impact this will have. Will we see more t's out in the clubs (the non t-clubs I mean)? Will we see more in the malls or the classrooms? More accurate portrayals in the media? Will dating a T become less of a stigma? Will being a T become less of a stigma?

At a certain point, my generation can only do so much. We've missed our moment. The USA, if it is anything, is a youth culture. Young people lead the fashion police. They set trends, and decide what's cool and what's not. All we can do is provide support. And hopefully, become good role models.

Because it's amazing how many negative messages are out there. I love the "Shrek" movies, but I really lost a lot of respect for the filmmakers when I was watching "Shrek 2." Do you remember the moment? The fairy tale characters were in the middle of a daring escape. Somehow, Pinocchio's shorts were accidentally pulled down. It's a slapstick gag that's been done a zillion times. The pants go down. The audience explodes in laughter.

But this moment was different. In this scene, when Pinocchio's pants go down, it is revealed that he is wearing garters and hose. The gag still worked. The audience still laughed. But all I could think was, "Why?"

"Shrek 2" is a movie chock full of laughs. Some of them quite clever and sophisticated. So why on earth would the filmmakers resort to such a demeaning sight gag? I wonder if they have any idea how powerful that image was. (It played to literally millions all over the world.) To me, I kept picturing some young kid. Someone like me at age 8 or 11...or even 18! He's insecure. He's confused about his gender. He's afraid to tell anyone. And then, during an animated family film (of all places), he is reminded that his
longings are taboo. His feminine urges are an embarrassment. He's a freak. He is to be made sport of. His urges are to be hidden away, never to be discussed and never to be revealed.

Just think, that summer, out there in the dark of the cineplex, hundreds of young, confused future tg's saw an image of themselves in a major motion picture for the very first time. And, of course, the image they saw was degrading. They had always feared that they were something to be ridiculed. And "Shrek 2" confirmed it.

That's what I mean by being good role models. Even if you're not out. Even if you've never admitted your t-side to another living soul. You can still help. In your office. In your workplace. In your home. You can provide positive messages. You can refute negative messages. And you can provide a safe place for the kids.

Last week I saw an episode of ABC's "20/20" that dealt solely with the subject of tg kids. One was as young as 6. These kids (both m2f and f2m) were being allowed to live as they wished. Their parents, their counselors, and their schools had come together to support these children — and basically said, "We're not going to hide this any more."

What affect will this have... on the kids, on their families, on their schools and their communities? Will it make growing up easier or tougher for these kids? Will it, in some way, help them to avoid some of the confusion most of us experienced? Or will it just bring more bullying? And, in the end, will their public "outing" cause them even more problems?

All I know is that it made me want to cry. To see these kids surrounded by such love and support. Barbra Walters, the host, seemed a bit uneasy. She knew she was venturing into difficult territory. And she didn't particularly seem to win over any of the kids during their often-awkward interviews. Then again, what conversation with a kid about sex or gender isn't awkward?

Any way, that's not what made me want to cry. What made me want to cry wasn't the program itself; it was the response to the program. Walters claimed that ABC received over a million emails in response to the story. And that nearly all of those emails were positive and supportive. One website said, "All three families said that the story helped change their world for the better. Advocacy groups also report a significant surge in young transgenders coming out."

And this is how it all starts. A new way of seeing what was always there, but hidden. And a new perspective among younger generations who may not yet have all of the prejudices and biases of the older generations. And, most importantly, a newfound courage among young T's to no longer hide. To be themselves. And to be proud.

Maybe, with our help, the kids really will be alright.

Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy.
xoxo,
CiCi

Cheap Trick

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 02:51:00 +0000

The hotel room had a fairly large dressing area. A long counter with two sinks. And, best of all, a huge floor-to-ceiling mirror on the side wall. Perfect for checking myself before I went out. But I'd already been out. I was back in my room now. And I wasn't alone. I won't say if he was a T or a guy. I'll try to leave some sense of mystery about this. But he was waiting for me on the bed.

I was checking my make-up over the bathroom sink. I'd forgotten all about the full length mirror on the side wall. But as I turned to shut off the bathroom light, I caught a glimpse of myself in the giant mirror. Head-to-toe fetish femme style. And it kinda took my breath away.

Not because I'm breathtakingly beautiful. I'm not. But the sight of myself… doing what I've fantasized about for so many years… was pretty mind-blowing. It wasn't my first time with someone. But somehow this night was different. And it was all because of what happened next.

With a burst of confidence I returned to my "date." He was sitting in the half-light, but he could see me well enough and I could see him. And, as I approached, his eyes lit up. He smiled. And I could see that he wanted me.

Now that's probably a pretty normal reaction. I mean, if you're alone with someone in a hotel room late at night, chances are there's going to be some "wanting" going on. No surprises there.

But that's the simple story. That's if you think the walk to that bed started back at the bathroom sink and the full-length mirror. But my walk started long before that. It started years ago. Thirty years maybe. Thirty years of hiding this side of myself. Thirty years of fears that someone would discover my secret. Thirty years of shame. Thirty years of thinking that no one would ever want me.

In fact, I was pretty sure of the opposite. I was sure I'd be hated if I showed my femme side. I'd be ridiculed. Abandoned. Fired. And probably beat up.

Back then I would have settled for acceptance. Tolerance. And btw… I hate that word, "tolerance." To tolerate means to "to endure without repugnance." I swear to God that's what the definition says. I just looked it up online. "To endure without repugnance." That means that we who are different are repugnant?

I'm sorry, but I don't want to be endured. I want to be adored! Cherished. Desired. Even more so because of the way I saw myself all those years ago. Back then, I really did see myself as repugnant. Or, at least, I thought others would.

That's why that moment in that hotel was so important to me. The look I saw as I came out of the bathroom was about as far as you can get from mere acceptance or begrudging tolerance or, heaven forbid, repugnance. My date was happy to be with my femme side. Thrilled. Pleased. Excited.

I don't know. There's a good word for it and I can't think of what it is. All I know is that I hope you get to experience a look like that some day. (Maybe you already have, you lucky slut.) But if you haven't, I at least want to let you know that it can happen. And maybe it can happen to you.

For a while now I've been telling people that I don't really know what I want out of all this. I don't know where it's leading. And I'm not sure where I want it to go. That's what I've been saying. And, for the most part, that's still pretty true. I still don't know where this is leading.

But I know what I want now. And deep down it's something that I think we all want. It's so simple. It's what teenagers want when they try so hard to fit in. It's what lonely coyotes are saying to each other when they howl on cold winter nights. And it's what Cheap Trick has been singing about for years in that silly song they played Live at Budokan. It's a silly song, but it seems so profound to me now. Because it expresses all I've ever wanted. And maybe all I will ever want.

I want you to want me.

Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy.

xoxo,
CiCi

Interview with Nicole Tristan, "Fetish Glam Kitten Next Door"

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 00:45:00 +0000

"I have always tried to keep it classy and fashion orientated... even though some of it is as sexy as hell!"

-Nicole Tristan

In just a few short years on the international scene, Australian T-Girl Nicci Tristan has become an icon in both the transgender and latex fetish communities. Personally, I've always admired Nicci because she's such a perfectionist when it comes to style and feminization. But I also love what she's done with her website (http://www.rubbernicci.com/). Most pin-up girls post sexy pix. And Nicci is no exception. But Nicci also dedicates a whole section of her site to beauty, fashion and feminization tips for other Trans Girls. (And I've pretty much downloaded every page of that!)

Nicci kindly agreed to an interview with Suddenly Fem and I caught up with her during one of her many webcam shows. We chatted about her early days as a Trans Girl, her first brush with latex, and a new body shaping system that she's working on. As always, she looked classy, stylish, and oh so sexy. She was in a brand new hot pink mini that she called an "e-bay bargain," along with some really killer matching hot pink heels.

Nicole Tristan: Putting the kettle on... back soon!
Nicci scurries off cam for a few moments...

Nicole Tristan: Ok fire away...

CiCi: So let's start at the beginning... what was Nicci like as a little boy?
Nicole Tristan: A normal little boy... did boy things mainly. Always loved to watch Batman... especially so when Catwoman was in the episode!! Used to love watching her!

CiCi: Did you have a fave Catwoman? Julie Newmar? Eartha Kitt?
Nicole Tristan: The one that was in the movie. God in that movie, she is so hot! The movie sux but who cares! lol. (NOTE: It was Lee Meriwether.)

CiCi: And I have to say, of all the Catwoman I've seen, you've got the look down... from the skintight latex to the low-slung belts! Purrrrfect (as Catwoman would say). So which came first for you... the latex or the girlie side?
Nicole Tristan: The girlie side by a long way. I discovered the wonders of latex by accident!

CiCi: Did you start going out right away... or were you a closet girl for a while?
Nicole Tristan: Closet girl for a long time!

CiCi: I've seen early pix of you. You were adorable right from the start. What were your first "out" experiences like?
Nicole Tristan: Well I just met up with other girls. Not really going out but it was fun & we chatted & did piccies, etc.

CiCi: And then how did you "accidentally" slip into latex?
Nicole Tristan: Well I was out shopping one day desperately looking for a tight leather pencil skirt. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on your view!) I couldn't find one. On my way home I stopped in to check out the big new adult super store... as you do... lol... and found a cheap molded Sharon Sloane pencil skirt. I picked it up (nearly put it down again) and ended up buying it. I had already planned a dressing session that evening so I decided to use my new purchase. And from the moment I slipped it on (well actually huffed & puffed it on lol) and polished it up, it was love at first sight! Kind of snowballed from there. Funny thing was at the time I didn't even really know such a big fetish scene even existed!
Nicole Tristan: 'Scuse my typos...nails! lol
(NOTE: At this point, Nicci holds her hand up to the camera to show off her long sharp, bright red nails. I imagine admirers and nail fetishists all over the world gasping at the sight. No worries, Nic, we cleaned up the typos.)

CiCi: Giggle... Well you're a big part of that fetish scene now! So how long after the skirt did you buy your first catsuit?
Nicole Tristan: Ages actually. Probably 2 years. Sort of stuck to just the one item at first, then eventually bought some stockings. At the time, I didn't know hand-made stuff existed & was still buying the cheap molded stuff. It's really crap & had plenty of tears to begin with. I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of people are turned off of latex by their early adventures in molded items! Once I discovered a hand-made provider, well then the penny dropped!

CiCi: I know how much you love being in latex... but what was the reaction like? Did you immediately sense a difference in the way people responded to you?
Nicole Tristan: It was positive... really I have always tried to keep it classy and fashion orientated... even though some of it is as sexy as hell! I think that helps to sway the non-fetish people around.

CiCi: If that was your goal (classy and fashionable), then you've definitely succeeded... and it's made you famous! Tell me about that. You have your own website, your own Yahoo group, your own Lustomic comic book(!), numerous magazine stories and YouTube videos. Let's face it, you're now known around the world. You obviously wanted to go big (that's why you started your website, after all.) But what does it feel like?
Nicole Tristan: Well I didn't set off to be big or anything. I guess I just pursued things & if they were successful then I took another step & another! I'm proud of the website as I do the whole lot myself & I have really tried to make it more than just pics. I wanted to present myself in a variety of ways and share a lot about me in the process. I wanted Trans Girls to like it just as much as the admirers! As to what does it feel like, cool... though I can't really get my head around it. Everyone says I'm famous, but the online fame is a strange one. You're fairly disconnected from it.

CiCi: But, I think the key here... is that your fans and admirers feel a connection. And yes! I luv your website. You're so generous with your T-Girl tips. You give such great advice on dressing, makeup and style. Do you ever think twice about giving away all your beauty secrets? Isn't that like a magician giving up the secrets behind his tricks?
Nicole Tristan: No, I think it's cool to be able to give a few insights into the way I do things. Even with all those tips, it will still take some dedication on the part of the Trans Girls to put it all together! And if they do then fab! Love to see the result!

CiCi: Well all that dedication has really paid off for you. There you were, all those years ago, a child watching Catwoman and fantasizing a bit. And now, years later, you've accomplished so much. So what's been the biggest thrill for you so far? Have you had one of those, "I can't believe this is actually happening to me" moments?
Nicole Tristan: Yes, when my pictures were published in Marquis magazine! Being their first ever Trans Girl to feature really blew me away! And now writing the column I really enjoy!

CiCi: I remember that. I was so surprised that they had never featured a T-Girl before. Of course, I was not surprised that they made an exception for you. So, if you don't mind a more personal question, how is your boy life these days? All of our readers struggle with the balance between their two lives. So how's your balance these days?
Nicole Tristan: It has its ups & downs of course, though I worked out a while ago that I'm an "in the middle girl" and won't ever become fulltime. I think some of the magic is that I'm 100% CD/TV. Other than shaved legs and some thinned brows, I'm all boy. Though I do watch my weight carefully! I love the "one extreme to the other" change! From T-shirt & jeans with a couple of days growth on my face, to a fetish glam kitten! Way cool...

CiCi: Way cool indeed! Now does anyone from your boy life know about Nicci?
Nicole Tristan: Only a very select few!

CiCi: Thanks so much for this, Nicci. Just a few more questions...
Nicole Tristan: No probs. I'm enjoying it!

CiCi: Cool, then I have 100 more questions!!
Nicole Tristan: lol

CiCi: So what's next for Nicci Tristan? Any big plans for '08?
Nicole Tristan: Well not really, working on some new stuff for the website, perhaps develop the video side a little more. Would love to go to an overseas event... will have to wait and see, I guess! But I'm also working on a body shaping system based on what I do now, so that will be interesting. The key will be that it will be smooth enough to wear under tight clothes... a definite gap in the market!

CiCi: Can you tell me anything more about the body shaping system? Or is that still being developed?
Nicole Tristan: Still being developed, so I can't really say much at this stage, although if it works out it should be fab! I'm trying to reproduce how I do my shaping except in a marketable manner... I'll keep you posted!

CiCi: You do a great job of that... taking what you do personally and then making it "marketable" or "accessible" to the masses.
Nicole Tristan: Thank you!

CiCi: Of course, we'd love it if you'd come back to the States. You mentioned overseas travel. What's your favorite place you've been to as Nicci?
Nicole Tristan: To date, the Montreal Fetish Weekend. That was fun!

CiCi: So one last question for you. Hey T-Girl... what does your "T" stand for?
Nicole Tristan: Mmmm, let me think!
She pauses to think for a moment. Then, on the webcam, I can see a mischievous look in her eyes.
Nicole Tristan: Tricky.

CiCi: lol I love it!
Nicole Tristan: Rhymes as well, so that's a bonus!

CiCi: Giggle... well, Tricky Nicci, thanks so much for taking the time to chat with me today. You have so many fans around the world who not only admire you... but are inspired by your sexy, classy, ultra femme style! Thanks, doll!
Nicole Tristan: Any time! And thanks for the interview! I'm looking forward to seeing the final article!

You can see Nicole Tristan in all her latex glory at www.RubberNicci.com. And look for her column in the rubber fetishist magazine, "Marquis-The Fetish Fantasy Magazine" (www.marquis.de).

Some Q&A

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 15:16:00 +0000

Q. I am married and I saw that you are too. I need some help getting my wife to support me. So your spouse is ok with it? Was it easy/hard? Did she come around eventually or was she kinky already? Sorry for the 20 questions. Any insights you can offer would be helpful. ("Maya")

A. No worries on the 20 questions, Maya. I'm always happy to help if I can. But I have to be honest. I'm not a very good source on this topic. My wife and I have been together a while, so she was there from the start. She's pretty much watched CiCi emerge. So I never really had to "tell" her. She's also very accepting of my other kinks and fetishes, so she's not a normal case. (We're not a very normal couple.)

Unfortunately, there's nothing you can really do to change how someone feels about dressing. For instance, I know a lot of people have foot fetishes. I don't. Boots and heels, yes! But feet? Just not my thing. Any way, no matter how much someone tried to convince me, I don't think I'd ever get into feet.

And it might be the same with your wife. She may never get into your dressing. She may never accept it. In that case, the key question is whether or not she'll allow you to explore. Will she grant you permission to dress? Go out? Date? Play? Have sex? (You may not even want to do all those things, but that's the usual progression.)

So how do you tell your wife? How do you break it to her?

It's a tough position to be in. But just try to remember: she's in a tough position too. Before you get started, here are a couple of key questions to ask yourself...

How's your sex life now? How's the intimacy level?
How good are you two at being friends?
How does she respond to gays/tgs in the media?
Has she ever seen you dressed or seen pix of you? What was her reaction?

Hopefully, answering these questions will give you a good idea of how to approach her. Obviously, the closer you are and the more understanding she is, the better your prospects for a meeting of the minds. Try to get a read on how she feels about gender-bending in general. Maybe watch a T-themed movie or TV show. (Have you seen "Dirty Sexy Money"? It features a really nice performance by Candis Cayne as Billy Baldwin's T-Girl love interest.) Probably the more positively she responds to images or portrayals of other girls in the media, the better your chance for success.

But there are no guarantees here. And there's an awful lot at stake. Important, expensive things can lie in the balance… from your marriage, your family, and your relationship with your children, to your home, your career and your investments. They can all be taken away in a divorce. So don't kid yourself about the possible consequences.

That's why I totally understand why a dresser girl would not want to tell her wife. Sometimes there's just too much at risk. But I would never advocate keeping this secret from someone you intend to marry. If you're planning on marrying a current partner, please by all means tell them. There is still a lot at risk involved, but why sentence you and your future spouse to a life full of secrecy and sneaking around? It's just not fair. And you won't be happy.

If you have a significant other and you're keeping this a secret, then you know exactly what I mean. Because you're doing it right now. You're hiding your clothes. You're hiding your make up. You're telling her that you're surfing the internet when you're really chatting with other girls. Maybe you're even sneaking out to meet people or to go to clubs. But you're lying to her. And you're lying to yourself.

You're lying to yourself because you're thinking that somehow this is a temporary thing. That you're just exploring a fetish or chasing a fantasy. You're telling yourself that you're not sure where this will all lead. But take it from me. Dressing only leads to one thing. And that's more dressing.

You may purge some day. (I did.) You may toss all your stuff in the trash and promise yourself that you'll never dress again. But I bet you won't keep that promise. The desire to dress is just too strong. And for most of us, it only gets stronger.

Telling your wife may be the hardest thing you ever do. So don't take it lightly. And be sure you've taken the time to try to really see things from her point of view first. She may be frightened that she'll lose you, she may think that you're no longer the person she married, or she may not understand the whole cd thing at all.

So if you decide to tell her, remember this: Don't just talk to her. Help her. Reassure her. And always make it clear that she is the most important thing in your life.

Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy!
xoxo,
CiCi

Blurry

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 15:06:00 +0000

Is it just me, or are things getting really blurry out there? I'm not talking about the weather. Or the picture on your new HDTV (if you didn't set it up properly). I'm talking about labels. What we call ourselves. And what others call us.

I seem to be getting a lot of questions on this topic lately. And maybe you've been asking some of these same questions yourself: "Now that I'm dressing - or now that I've admitted that I'm attracted to dressers - what does that say about me? Am I gay? Am I bi?" "If I'm a guy and I'm attracted to other guys (but the other guy is dressed as a girl), does that make me gay?"

One person told me that he's "straight, with a twist." But to me, that sounds more like the proper way to serve tequila.

My gut reaction to these label questions is always the same: "What difference does it make?" But, obviously, it makes a big difference, otherwise so many people wouldn't be asking. Labels matter in our society. Our society has just gotten too darn big for most of us to deal with, so we need short cuts, sound bites… simplified categories to help us make sense of the world. And that's where labels come in.

Interestingly enough, I've never gotten one of these questions from a GG (genetic girl). No GG has ever asked me if liking a guy who's dressed as a girl makes her a lesbian. In complete contrast to their shopping behavior, GG's don't seem to be all that interested in specific labels. But to the guys - and in this category, I'm including guys who dress as guys and guys who dress as girls - labels seem to be incredibly important.

Now a lot of this is just good old-fashioned American homophobia. No matter how evolved some people are, no matter how much they've overcome personally to allow themselves to become a T-Girl (or to date one), many still can't shake old stereotypes and the bad feelings associated with them. I mean, think about it. It's a pretty weird state of affairs when a man will freely admit that he enjoys sucking cock - but can't stomach the thought of being called gay.

Of course, a lot of this is just T-Girls trying to make sense of the changes they're going through. Most of us have been battling confused feelings all of our lives, so is it any wonder that we get kind of obsessed about trying to make sense of it all? (BTW… I hear some T-Girls call themselves lesbians. And that's cool. Except that I have no idea what it means. I'm not sure if it means that they like other girls or that they like other T-Girls. I've heard it used both ways.)

And it's not just here in the gender wars that labels are starting to blur. When asked about his ethnicity, golf champion Tiger Woods refers to himself as "Cablinasian" - based on the fact that he's Caucasian, Black, American-Indian, and Asian. So maybe we T-Girls are all Transbistraybian (transgendered, bi, straight, gay, and lesbian). Or better yet, maybe we're just strays. (That's straight and gay.)

I consider myself "confused." (That's conflicted and kind of amused.)

Fashion designer Isaac Mizrahi had a great line. He once said, "My ethnicity was my choice. It still is." And I like that approach. When it comes to our identity - we get to choose. If you've been following the presidential primaries, you'll notice journalists use the word, "self-identify," a lot. When they refer to a certain demographic, they'll often say, "...according to men and women who self-identify as Hispanic..." Or "...self-identify as Causcasian." It's a great word. Self-identify.

All I know is that if Mr. Mizrahi can choose his own ethnicity, then I can choose my own gender role. And so can you. So if you want to be gay, be gay. If you're more comfortable identifying yourself as straight, go ahead. And if you prefer bi, then bi it is. Call yourself whatever you like. Just be sure to respect the labels others select for themselves.

Oh...and here's one last bit of unsolicited advice. If the lines between gender roles in T-world really are so hopelessly blurred so as to be rendered essentially meaningless, then maybe its time we started asking new questions.

Maybe instead of trying to figure out what you are, your time, energy and introspection would be put to better use in trying to figure out just who you are.

(And you thought that first question was hard.)

Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy!
xoxo,
CiCi

And the World Is Still Flat...

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Wed, 27 Feb 2008 22:12:00 +0000

A few weeks ago, a young boy named Larry King was shot to death in an Oxnard, California middle school. From all reports at this point, it seems the boy was shot by a fellow student because he had started wearing feminine clothes to school. Apparently, Larry adhered to the school uniform policy, but he accessorized with jewelry and makeup.

It's a pretty sad story all around. And particularly heartwrenching for those of us in T-World. It's one of those incidents that reminds us, young and old alike, how hated and misunderstood we T-Girls are. Sure, we've made gains in the past 25 years… most minorities have… but the story of young Larry King reminds us of how far we still have to go.

I told a friend Larry's story. And she was sympathetic. But when I mentioned the fact that Larry was unashamedly wearing feminine accessories in public, my friend grimaced. "Someone should have told him not to do that," she said.

I know what she meant. She didn't mean to be insensitive. She just knows how rough and intolerant schoolkids can be. She certainly didn't mean to suggest that little boys who wear girl's clothes deserve to be shot. But she inadvertently communicated a sad truth: people are safer when they don't challenge convention.

"Someone should have told him not to do that."

Those words stuck with me. And, because I'm a hardcore baseball fan, I immediately thought of Jackie Robinson. Jackie Robinson is a hero today. But 60 years ago, no one wanted Jackie to play major league baseball. The fans didn't. The opposing players didn't. Even Jackie's own teammates didn't really want him to play. Someone should have told Jackie to stay in the Negro Leagues.

And someone should have told Rosa Parks to give up her seat. Someone should have told Galileo to put away his telescope and stop challenging the church. Someone should have told Cesar Chavez to shut up. And someone certainly should have told Columbus to turn his boats around - because everyone could clearly see that the world was as flat as a pancake.

Someone should have told all of these extraordinary people not to do what they were doing. And then it occurred to me. Someone probably did. In fact, almost everyone these heroes knew probably told them to stop. But they didn't. And neither did Larry.

A long time ago in a classroom far far away, I was involved in a discussion about history. Is history the story of mankind? Or is history the story of a few fearless individuals who had the courage to stand up for what they believed in?

I tend to believe in the latter.

From what I've heard, Larry King's parents are hoping that Larry's death won't be used for political purposes. And I sympathize with them. They don't want to see their son's death trivialized. They don't want to see his name become a soundbite on the national news. To them, Larry wasn't a martyr or a trailblazer or gender rebel. He was their sweet little boy. And all they want, more than anything, is to have their sweet little boy back.

I doubt that Larry's parents will ever read this blog, but I hope they don't mind me writing a little bit about him. I'm not a very political person, and I never intended to write an "issues" column. But this story touched me. And I was touched, not by the way Larry died, but by the way he lived.

He was, at 15, more true to himself than most of us will be by the time we're 50. His classmates said that he got roughed up every day. But he insisted on wearing his feminine attire. One of his classmates told reporters that, "When people came up and started punking him, he just stood up for himself."

How many of us would have been strong enough to do the same? I know I wouldn't have. I mean, if there's one thing that we T-Girls know perhaps better than anyone, it's this. The hardest thing in the world to be, is yourself.

Upon his death, Larry's parents donated Larry's organs to people in need. I don't know much about that process, but I do know this. Some lucky person just received an amazing little heart.

Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be yourself.

xoxo,
CiCi

High School 2.0

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 21:23:00 +0000

I used to have this fantasy. (Not a sexual one for a change.) My fantasy was to go back to high school and do it all over again. It's a pretty common fantasy. So many of us were so awkward back then. So many of us had to put up with bullies and mean kids and strict social groups. High school can be a fun time… but so many of us were on the outside looking in.

I don't have the same feeling about 4th grade or 5th grade. I don't have the same pangs of heartbreaks and heartaches about life in my twenties. (Although there were certainly plenty of heartbreaks there!) Nope. There's something about the high school years that doesn't go away. The victories seemed bigger. The embarrassments more painful.

Maybe you're like me. I mean, if you're having some confusion over your sexual or gender identity now (as an adult), I'm guessing that those feelings of confusion were multiplied back in high school. With all that social pressure. The cliques. The crushes. The raging hormones. It was a pretty intense and pretty confusing time.

Any way. All of that came crashing back to me as I started going out more often as a girl. I'm meeting other girls. Trying to pick out cute outfits. Comparing myself to other girls. Worrying about what they think of me. Flirting. Dieting. Thinking about sex. Wondering about sex. Daydreaming about sex. Obsessing about sex…

And that's when it hit me. I'm back in high school! No time machine. No fuzzy flashback. No knock on the head at your 15th class reunion. This is real. This is me. (And maybe it's you too.) And omg … we're freshmen all over again!

And it's all the same stuff! The cliques. The flirting. The obsession with clothes. The adolescent sexual tension. The impending loss of virginity. The oh-so-intense anxiety about all of the above.

It sounds awful. But you know what? I'm kind of enjoying it. It's my return-to-high school fantasy coming true. Like I said, I didn't have that great a high school experience. Back then, I was shy. Confused. Totally intimidated. Sound familiar?

I was paralyzed. I was so unsure of myself, I just froze. I didn't do anything. Who was it that said that youth is wasted on the young? That was me. Total teenage wasteland. And not because I was on drugs. I wasn't. The waste was that all those good years, all those fun years, (all those skinny years!) just slipped away. Someone once asked me if I was picked on in high school. A lot of us "sensitive" people are. But I wasn't. I avoided all the taunts and the bullies by being invisible. And it wasn't hard. I was so anonymous that no one even noticed me.

But they're starting to notice me now. (Think I'm overcompensating just a little? Hehe.) Maybe we all are. Maybe we're all reaching back to recapture something we missed out on. Maybe we're trying to get a better hold on something that once slipped away. All I know is that I'm having fun. I'm going out. Flirting. Dating. Checking out the other girls. Seeing how I measure up. It's like High School 2.0! I'm obsessing about fashion. Obsessing about guys. Obsessing about guys dressed as girls! (That's a new one.) And hoping my car makes it to the club and back without breaking down! (That's nothing new.)

Oh, and all the arrangements! Do you remember? When I was in high school, every night out was preceded by a barrage of phone calls. (This was in the days before email.) Who's driving? Who's riding with whom? What time are we leaving? What time do we want to get there? Who's buying the beer?

Now I do it with emails mostly. (My stepson wonders why I know so much about MySpace. ) But the questions are the same. Who's going out? Where are we going? What are we wearing? It's like deja vu all over again.

Of course, High School 2.0 comes with all the petty jealousies, competitiveness, and cliques of the original high school. And the drama. Let's never forget the drama. You have all the prettiest girls (Tina Fey called them, "The Plastics"), the wild girls, the punks and the princesses, the shy girls, the nerds, the sluts...they're all back. (I must admit though: there are a lot more lesbians in High School 2.0! It's like I've been sent away to the National Boarding School for Wayward Bisexuals. I'd sing you our fight song, but it isn't fit to print.)

Speaking of fighting, I haven't seen a girl fight yet. But I'm sure that's inevitable too. You take a bunch of girls (who haven't been girls all that long), mix in some emerging sensuality and sexuality, add some raging hormones, a few strong drinks, some thumping music – and sooner or later, someone's going to call someone a name. Someone's going to pull someone's hair. And the girls are going to go at it.

How silly. How immature. How high school!

Makes me wonder what my vanilla high school friends are doing these days. Do they ever go out and dance and flirt and carry on like they used to? Do they still get caught up in all the drama? They've probably settled into pretty typical American suburban family life. And believe me, there's nothing wrong with that. (In fact, there's a lot right with that.)

But sometimes I wonder what they'd think of me. In my big wigs and sky high heels. My latex outfits and micro minis. They'd probably think I was nuts. I mean, let's be honest, most of the time I think I'm nuts!

I have to admit though. I wonder sometimes if any of those jocks and bullies from high school ever became dressers. Or admirers. I've moved far from home, so I doubt I'd ever run into anyone from the old days. But I wonder if I've ever chatted online with someone I used to know. What a trip that would be. What a trip this all is.

So how am I doing this time around? How am I doing in High School 2.0? Okay I think. I feel a little better prepared than I was at 14 or 15. But it's still hard. I still have a lot of the same anxieties. I still have a lot of those painful daily crushes and heartbreaks. But I'm definitely more confident. More talkative. More outgoing. Still though, it's going to take some time before I really start to feel comfortable in my own skin.

But at least this time, I don't think anyone's better than me. Prettier? Yes. More stylish? Absolutely. Sexier? Oh my god, yes. But better? Nope. I've finally realized that it takes all kinds in this world. And no one else out there really knows what I'm dealing with… or what I'm hoping for. I finally realized that I'm the only me there is. And no matter what anyone else says or does, I'm the best me that ever was. Or will ever be.

And geez, I really wish someone had told me that back in high school.

Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy.
xoxoxo,
CiCi

Suddenly Fem Fashion Show

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Fri, 18 Jan 2008 15:31:00 +0000

Check out some of the latest fashions from CrossDresser.com!

Baby Steps in Sky High Heels

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 19:58:00 +0000

A few months ago, a nice gentleman from this website contacted me and asked me if I'd be willing to write a monthly column for the site. Something with a bit of a personal perspective. Something that might add to the Suddenly Fem experience. Now, I like to write. And I love attention (ask any of my friends). So without really thinking it over, I said, "Yes."

Silly me. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I've been dressing for about seven years now - give or take a few years due to the time when I freaked out, swore off dressing, and tossed all my clothes in the trash. But for the most part, I think I've been making some progress in my feminization process. I'm getting out in the world. I'm getting more comfortable in my own skin. So by this point, I should know a little bit about girlworld. About dressing. About style. About important political issues facing the transgender community.

Um. Well. Actually. It seems. I don't.

"Don't worry," said the gentleman who hired me. "Just throw in some tips on how to do make-up. Or how to lace up a corset. Things like that."

That's when I really freaked. I have no idea how to lace a corset. And I'm still struggling with my make-up. I'm not the kind of person who can answer questions like that. I'm the kind of person who goes online to search for answers to questions like that! (To be honest, my best solution for both of those questions would be, "Have a friend do it!") So I was forced to face the awful truth. I have no business writing a column like this. I'm just not an expert.

Then it hit me. That's when I accidentally stumbled upon the overriding theme for this column. I won't present myself as an expert. Instead, I'll present myself as a girl who's a lot like the typical reader. A lot like you.

Does this sound familiar? Am I still straight? Am I bi? If I like other T-Girls, am I a lesbian? What if my family finds out? What if my girlfriend finds out? Oh my god, what if my Mother finds out? Do I have to leave the closet? Do I have to tell my wife? Do I have to shave my legs? Can I still wear shorts in the summer? Is it autumn yet? Will everyone at work notice that I pluck my eyebrows? Is this too much make-up? Or is not enough? Will the girls at the MAC counter really be nice to me? Will the salesgirls at the mall realize that my wife doesn't have size 12 feet? And what if I get pulled over by the cops? And finally, how can I focus when I have all these questions zipping around my brain all at the same time -- while I'm on deadline at work, my wife is on the phone, and I still have to get the kids to soccer practice by 6:00?

It's not an easy life, is it? But we're doing it. If you're reading this column, I'm going to assume that you're a dresser of some sort. That you enjoy wearing ladies clothes. And you're hoping to get better at it. Well, that's exactly what I'm doing.

For years when I was online, people would ask me how I was doing. Had I gone out yet? Had I dated yet? Had I had sex as a woman yet? (People online can get pretty personal.) Any way, I gave them all the same answer. I told them I was progressing, but that I was going slowly. I was taking baby steps. Baby steps in sky high heels.

And I'm still doing it. And I'll bet you are too. So where are you in the process? Are you dressing head-to-toe? Or do you just do panties and nylons? Have you bought your first wig yet? Have you bought your first pair of heels? How big is your make-up collection? Or maybe you've started going out. Maybe you've shared your secret with friends or loved ones. Maybe you're even thinking about going full-time. Or transitioning through hormones or surgery.

The point is. We're all at different levels here. We all have different goals. But we're all wondering the same exact thing: "Where does this all lead? Where does this all end?" And that, my sisters, is a question I just can't answer for you. And I couldn't answer it even if I was the top expert in the field. But I can give you my opinion.

This never ends. There is no finish line. You may never come out of the closet. You may never be anything more than a cyber girl. On the other hand, maybe you'll end up having SRS surgery and becoming a brand new woman with a brand new drivers' license to prove it. It's all waiting for you. You just have to decide what "it" is. There are so many options available to you now. So many ways to express your "T."

And that's what I'm going to write about. The problems and the possibilities. The fears and the fantasies. The hopes and the hopelessness. Just don't ever think of me as an expert. Because I'm not. Nope. I'm right here next to you. Taking my baby steps. In a brand new pair of really killer sky high heels.

Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy.
xoxoxo,
CiCi

Dazzle Me

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 19:56:00 +0000

Or better yet, dazzle yourself! Come on, girls. We all know how hard this is. Looking femme. Looking good. (Looking good and femme.) But no matter where we are in our tranny transformation - from newbies, to closet queens, to professional showgirls - we all want to look our best. We all want to turn a few heads. Even if all you're ever going to do is show a few pix on the internet, admit it, you still want to look a few clicks beyond fab.

And that's where the professional makeover comes in. I don't care where you live. I don't care how broke you are. I want you to get on the phone and make an appointment right now! It's an experience that will literally change your life. Because, unless you happen to be a professional make-up artist, there's so much to learn! The tips. The techniques. The new cosmetic products you didn't even know existed.

I know it's hard if you're closeted. I know it's hard to meet a total stranger and reveal your most closely guarded secret. But I've never had a bad experience with a professional makeup person or a photographer. I've never been treated with anything less than the utmost respect. And what a day you'll have!

You'll feel like a queen. (I know. I know. We're all queens! But with a makeover, for one day, you'll actually be treated like one!) You'll be doted on, pampered, and generally made to feel special. You'll get to try on a variety of clothes and wigs and shoes. (Yum. Shoes.) And you'll leave your session with a set of killer pix.

It usually all starts with a phone call. And for lots of girls this is no small thing. To pick up the phone and actually set an appointment. Because as soon as you make that call, it's official. You're a crossdresser. You're not just playing around any more, you're serious enough about your dressing to want to look your best. And you're serious enough to now present yourself to the world this way. (Okay, not to the world exactly. You're going to present yourself to just one make-up artist. But let me tell you, it will feel like you're telling the whole world.) So don't be surprised if you have to pick up the phone a few times before you get up the nerve. Or hang up on a few answering machine messages before you actually succeed in setting the appointment. It's all part of the process.

When you do get the girl on the line (they're almost always girls - or other T-Girls), you'll be immediately surprised how relaxed and nonchalant she is about your dressing. After all, this is a big step for you. But it's just another day at the office for her. If she's good, and most of them are, she'll put you at ease right away and she'll let you know what to expect during your makeover session and photo shoot.

Some dressers like to bring photos of actresses or models they'd like to look like. Some bring photos of other T-Girls they admire. For me, I wouldn't bring a thing. You already know how you want to look. But for this day, let the expert take the lead. Let her look you over, study your face, and try to achieve the look that's right for you. Chances are you'll look nothing like what you originally envisioned. But you'll still look amazing.

Once she's gotten the look down, it's time to pose. And let me tell you, it's not easy. When I started dressing I took all my own pix. I'd set up the camera, hit the automatic shutter, and then run like hell to get in position and pose. The whole process was downright comical. Fortunately there was never anyone else in the room. And no one ever saw the worst pix.

But posing for someone else is a whole different story. Even if she's made you feel comfortable by this point, you're going to feel a whole other level of awkwardness when it's time to pose. Because it's a totally unnatural act. You'll put your hands here, your legs there, your butt over there. "Now try to look sexy!"

It's uncomfortable. It's awkward. It's nerve wracking. And you'll be so sorry when it's over. You'll never want it to end.

So go for the makeover. Go for the fashion shoot. I promise you. When you see those pix, you'll hold your head a little higher. You'll walk a little prouder. Even if you never show your photos to anyone else, you'll look at them again and again. You'll treasure them. Because you'll know, deep down inside, that that girl in the photo - the pretty girl in the hot outfit - that's the girl you were always meant to be.

Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy.
xoxoxo,
CiCi

The Cyber Closet

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 19:47:00 +0000

I don't have any statistics. But I think we can safely say that most dressers are somewhat closeted. If not totally closeted. The truth is, even some of my most "out" friends still haven't told their closest friends or family members about their t-lives. And personally, I don't think there's anything wrong with that. We're all on our own paths to feminization. We all have our own personal boundaries and comfort levels. Some of us will go further than others. Some will go all the way to SRS. But odds are that most of us will stay right here where we feel safe - right here in the closet.

And hey, the closet isn't so bad. (There are some pretty cool shoes in here.) And just think how much better we have it than our sisters in the past. Just a few years ago, before the internet became widely used, most crossdressers suffered alone. They had no one to confide in. No one to swap feminization tips with. No one to share the emotional highs and lows of being a T. The closet was a pretty lonely place back then. And very dark.

Then the internet came along and it was like someone switched on a big bright light in the closet. Emboldened by anonymity, crossdressers, trannies, and femme freaks of every kind flocked to the chat sites. They chatted about clothes and make-up and dating and style. They compared notes on everything from politics to movies to sports. They found they could order clothes and accessories on-line. (And then they could chat about their new outfits.) They found they could secretly explore their lusts and fetishes. (And then they could chat about their dates.) But most importantly, they found that they weren't alone!

I remember when I first logged on as a girl. I think it was in the year 2000. I sat quietly in chat rooms and barely spoke. I spent hours studying profiles and photos - marveling at the other girls. The clothes. The makeup. The shoes! Back then, I was amazed that some girls showed their faces. I tried at first, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

I was one of the (many) girls who wouldn't show her face. And I wasn't alone. If there's one thing we crossdressers are really good at, it's taking photos that don't show our faces. We've got that down to an art. Photos of bodies with no heads. Photos of nice long legs and sexy high heels. Photos of cute butts. Photos of ugly butts. We'll show anything to avoid showing our faces.

Now part of that was for reasons of privacy. But for me, part of that was also because I sucked at doing makeup. Even when my makeup looked good in the mirror, some how, it didn't translate to the camera. So most of my early pix have my hair falling down over my face. Kind of sexy. Kind of mysterious. But mostly there to hide another botched make-up job. (BTW... the second thing we crossdressers are really good at, after hiding our faces, is using Photoshop - but that's a topic for another day.)

Fortunately, there were other girls out there who were not so shy. They showed their faces. The showed their bodies. Some even listed their hometowns!

Were these chicks crazy?! Thankfully, yes they were. A little crazy and a little bold. And maybe just a little tired of going it alone. I've kept in touch with some of the first girls I met online. And every once in a while, when I'm feeling sentimental, I shoot them an email and thank them (yet again) for being a friend to me when I was a newbie. For liking me when I felt unlikable. For accepting me when I had assumed that my behavior and desires were totally unacceptable.

Some people say you can't make real friends on the internet. But that's okay by me, because the friends I've made online are absolutely unreal. In all the best ways. They're kind and considerate. They're helpful. They applauded my new pix… even when my new pix weren't that good. They invited me out. Although until recently, I never accepted their invitations. In short, they treated me with respect. And unfortunately, that's not something most of us T-Girls are going to find a lot of out in the real world. (Heck, I even met the person who hired me to write this column online!)

Maybe I'll never be totally out. Maybe I'll never tell my co-workers and relatives about my girlie side. And maybe I'll never truly leave the closet. But at least now I'll never be alone. Because, thanks to the internet, my once lonely closet now has a lounge. And the lounge has seating for millions. Best of all. So does yours.

Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy.
xoxoxo,
CiCi

Hey T-Girl! What's Your "T" Stand For?

noreply@blogger.com (CiCi Kitten) — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 19:31:00 +0000

Here's a little insider information. In my boy life, I'm a writer. I've actually sold a few screenplays. And now, as I've started going out more and expressing my T-self a little more openly, I've decided to write a T-themed screenplay. I won't go into any details here, but there is one scene that I think is kind of cute. So I thought I woud share it with you.

Now, for those of you who don't know much about Hollywood, don't go holding your breath waiting for this film to come to a theater near you. I have to finish writing it. I have to try to sell it. Someone with money has to like it. And someone with even more money has to decide to produce it. Let's face it, straight-themed scripts are a long shot at best. So the chances of a T-themed script getting made are pretty slim. (Ladies, we should all be that slim.) But I'm going to give it my best shot. I just keep thinking that if it ever does get made, the premiere party and the red carpet walk will be way beyond fab!

Any way, right at the beginning of the script one cute little T-Kitten says to another, "Hey T-Girl, what's your "T" stand for?" It's played off as a joke in the script. But I think it's an interesting question. It makes the girl in the script stop and think, and it just might make you stop and think as well. I mean, think about it, what does your "T" stand for?

Are you still shy about your dressing ("Timid") or are you bold and confident ("Tantalizing")? Is your look Tacky or Trashy or Tasteful? Are you feeling Terrific? Tremendous? Are you a Tease? A Tart? A little Ticklish. A little Tipsy? And don't sell yourself short if you identify best with words like "Truthful" or "Trustworthy." There's way too little of that out there in girlworld.

It's a silly question, but it really gets to the heart of the issue for most of us. I mean, why in the world are we doing this? I remember how it was when I first started. There was a lot of sneaking around. There was a lot of frustration with the process. (That really never goes away. I'm still lousy at putting on fake eyelashes.) There was the fear and dread of being outed or caught. So there were secrets to keep. There were clothes that didn't fit right. Make-up that looked down right awful. And nights on the town where frankly I wished I'd just stayed home and watched a football game! (Yes. The boy in me is still strong.)

But here I am. Still dressing up. Still going out. And still wondering where the heck this all is supposed to lead. To be honest, I'm still not even sure where I want it to lead.

The big T-word for me is "Transcendent." That what we've all shooting for. That's where we all want to be. Content. Happy. At peace with our girlish side. But so far, to me, all that I've transcended is the door to my closet… and the doors to a few night clubs in L.A. and Las Vegas. By my standards, I feel like I still have a long way to go. So I guess my "T" stands for "Tomorrow." I've thought about my T-life a lot. I've fantasized quite a bit. And I've taken some steps towards making those fantasies a reality. So I'm hopeful.

I keep looking forward to tomorrow and to whatever progress tomorrow might hold for me. A new romance? A fun night out? A style breakthrough? A new makeup tip? Mindbending sex? Or maybe just a hot new pair of shoes. I'd settle for any of these. So for me, it's all about tomorrow.

Although, now that I think about it, "today" is a pretty good T-word too.

As for the girl in the script? In the end, after several adventures, she thinks about the friends she's made, the bonds they've formed, and the happy feeling of contentment she's experienced by expressing her T-side. And she's finally able to answer the question. She looks around at the friends who have helped her every step of the way, and she says that she now knows what her "T" stands for: "Thankful."

Now that to me is transcendent. I wish I could say that that was my word too. But I'm just not there yet. Who knows though. Maybe we'll all get there some day.

Maybe tomorrow...

Take care out there.
Be safe. Be smart. Be sexy.
xoxoxo,
CiCi