Today, I bought a turtleneck. It's a dark-grey, cable-knitted women's turtleneck.
I took it home, I wore it with some comfy loungewear pants, and I layered it with one of my wool cardigans. I tied up my hair into a messy bun, adjusted my bangs and glasses, and looked in the mirror.
I looked feminine and pretty.
Nice. Good. Okay.
That was it. I simply felt right as I drank my coffee and ate my toast, and there was no thought or conflict beyond that. In retrospect, it felt simply ideal. Congruence between the mind and body tends to feel underwhelming in a good way, which leads to the "gender is an ornament as opposed to a centerpiece in my life" sentiment I've shared before in a previous post.
However, something has felt wrong in a way that today I've finally been able to recognize and articulate.
Later in the evening, I saw a photograph of a beautiful woman, and it made me feel something I couldn't quite articulate up until now.
Somatically speaking, the feeling was in my solar plexus, where emotions that feel emotionally deep, moving, and resonant often live. When I would see femininity, I would often feel deeply "moved." It was not ache, longing, incongruence, or envy (this is typically dysphoria). It was a feeling akin to seeing a beautiful piece of art. However, because it was so emotionally "moving," I often attributed it to gender envy.
To simplify it, it's a bit like this:
I perceive femininity -> I feel a feeling in my solar plexus akin to being deeply "moved" emotionally -> Needing certainty, I label it gender envy in order to make sense of the intensity.
The problem with that label is that I never questioned it. As such, it felt like a call to action in the sense that it must be resolved. Gender envy invites comparison, and comparison suggests a problem to the brain. A perceived lack in one's own self. The brain creates urgency to solve/resolve (a now non-existent problem for me), which thus makes the feeling distressful.
The most important thing I've learned from this is how to distinguish between the femininity I inhabit versus the femininity I view in others.
I often conflated the two, which then invited comparison.
"Am I really feminine enough?"
"Should I go on HRT to achieve these features despite me being already content?"
"Why do I not feel as feminine as she appears to be? If I feel urgency, this must mean something!"
What I've learned, though, upon comparing the feelings I felt from the turtleneck to that of the photograph is that I am already as feminine as I'd like to be. I already look pretty enough. I no longer feel envy, longing, or incongruence in my day-to-day life. I do not think about it all the time because I already live it. I only ever really feel "dysphoria" when I see feminine people and then assign the feelings they make me feel to a secondary meaning (gender envy).
So that begs the question, what exactly is that initial feeling? Again, it is like viewing a beautiful piece of art. An art piece, such as a beautiful musical piece that resonates and moves you, will make you feel "moved" if it is emotionally significant. However, when you hear beautiful music, you don't necessarily want to
become the music?
I tested this logic. I looked at the photograph and asked myself as I felt that feeling, "If I could snap my fingers and automatically become her, would I?"
The answer was "no." Why?
Because I am already enough for myself.
I've found that viewing beauty does not necessitate any action on my part no matter how much it moves me. As emotionally resonant as it is, it does not say anything more about my identity than I already know. It is simply just... emotion. It lingers for as long as you give it importance and it is as urgent as you make it.
In the past, I longed for femininity deeply. That same photograph would have made me ruminate for days on end. It's perhaps what drove me to HRT in the first place and what deeply confused me after I stopped taking it. Now, I've discovered, acknowledged, integrated and cherish the femininity within my own self. The photograph now is simply just beautiful. I'll look, make breakfast, and do the dishes afterwards without any weight on my shoulders.
There is the powerful,
striking beauty I feel from the world around me, and there is the quieter, comfier beauty I love and cherish within myself.
I prefer the latter.
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I recognize that everyone's experience of dysphoria and envy is vastly different. I don't say this as a means to generalize and project my experience onto others. Indeed, others feel severe dysphoria on a day-to-day basis that is beyond what I can imagine. My heart goes out to you if that is you; you are stronger than you know.
I write this more so for those who do feel that gender envy is a stronger driver in their lives. These are, of course, my own personal observations and what makes sense for me; I hope someone can find use of them. I believe I do have a natural inclination and affinity towards femininity, but it does not lie at the identity level. I believe, more so at the level of gender expression. I believe that even if "feminine" and "female" physically look the exact same, they can still be completely different things.
It's personally pertinent to me that I distinguish what gender envy is in my own personal experience, as it was a constant force in my life. As such, HRT was a constant fixation of mine despite internal uncertainty. (You wouldn't pay expensive tuition to go to Harvard if you didn't even know what you wanted to major in, right?). I find that if I ever decide to go on HRT again, it should feel just as natural as I felt putting on that turtleneck. "Nice. Good. Okay," as I promptly forget about it as I go do something
equally as mundane.
Will that day come? We'll wait and see. For now though, I'll enjoy my turtleneck.
