Sunday, October 19, 2014

10-19-2014 Entry: Facing Fears One Eyeliner Stick at a TIme

This weekend so far has been pretty good. As we’ve done so many times before my wife and I have managed to come back from our distance and anger, and are resuming life as usual. I suppose I shouldn’t say life as usual, since there are small differences, like the midnight purple nail polish I’m wearing on my fingers and toes, and the recently added foundation, eyeliner, and eye shadow I’ve thrown into the mix today. These differences feel good to me, although I find myself having to hold back some from the exploration of those new additions.
The makeup for example is something that I wish I had more alone time to experiment with. I find myself longing for a long weekend where I can play with the new toys I have in my life and where no one will judge me or be affected by this play. I know that one day I’ll be out in the open for all the world to see and I’ll have to be comfortable with myself in the eyes of others, but having my wife suddenly come into the bathroom when I’m failing miserably to put on eyeliner is still jarring. Seeing the surprise on her face makes it all the worse. I know she isn’t mad at me or disappointed me or judging me for wanting to try eyeliner, but I feel ashamed in a way.
I feel ashamed because I want to be able to just own what I’m doing instead of feeling a need to hide it or conceal it. I want it to feel so comfortable and natural to me that I don’t care what other people think, and right now I just don’t feel that. I’m not ashamed that I want to wear eyeliner, eye shadow or foundation/concealer, I just want to feel pride in wearing it and wearing it well. I know that one day I’ll get to that place of being proud of my feminine appearance, but in order to do that I need practice. I need to be able to royally fuck up my eyeliner a few times (like I did today) so I know what not to do, and I need to experiment with what I like and don’t like. As of right now, I don’t feel like I have that opportunity. It’s likely all in my mind, but I know that I’d feel more comfortable doing it when my wife wasn’t around than having her see/watch me do it. I hope that reservation passes eventually.
I feel like I’m going through puberty again having to learn all the little tricks to the trade of being a certain gender. I did this as a boy, although it never really took and required great deal of concentration to keep it “masculine” enough for my guy friends (cannot count the number of times I was called a “fag” or “homo” by my teenage male friends when I didn’t play my part well enough. Now that I look back on it, it almost sickens me how quick they were to shame one another for any sign of femininity).
 I know not all girls wear makeup, but I want to be one who does. I want to learn how to use it to accentuate my features in ways I find appealing. I think I’d like it if I had someone there to help me, someone who’s willing to walk me through it and who’s also willing to giggle with me when I get it tragically wrong. I suspect my wife could be that person if she felt inclined to be (she was once already when I dressed up for haloween), but I don’t feel comfortable asking her for some reason. It’s probably because I’m already so worried about how she’s going to handle things that I don’t want to risk overexposing her to the changes I’m going through. I need to find a way to get over that.
Changing it up a bit, it is so strange to be in this place of joyfully doing the things I want and yearn to do, and also feeling afraid to do them. I have so much fear about all of this. I don’t want to be afraid and I want to face my fears, but I’ll be damned if they aren’t deeply ingrained in my psyche. I suppose the only way to really overcome them is to try to focus on why I’m doing these things to begin with. I find that when I look at my painted nails I feel a deep sense of happiness at finally being able to have painted nails. I feel a sense of peace and love, and even excitement. When I look in the mirror and see my face accentuated with the small amount of makeup I’m wearing, I feel a sense of home. I know that probably sounds weird, but I feel at home when I look more like a girl in my reflection. I begin to see the potential for the beautiful physical woman I could eventually be. It feels right and joyful and freeing to just let go and do these seemingly innocuous things. It makes me want to do them more, to explore them further and see how far I can take it, to see how womanlike I can become.
That’s all I want and that’s why I’m doing this. The fear can try to scare me away all it wants, but I’m not going to stop this time. I’ve come too far now to stop and to put this all away again. I don’t care if being myself means my wife leaves me, my mother and father disown me, or my “friends” stop liking me, I am Emma and I’m not going to give into the fear anymore. Society can have their rules and norms about gender if they want them but they are of no use to me; they never fit me anyway.

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