"I wish I could wear womens' clothes," I said without thinking. My confidence shone about as brightly as my future- which isn't saying much given that I was currently a part time retail grunt who was spectacularly failing all of his college courses. The confidence she exuded is what I admired the most. The woman I imagined was the complete opposite of me- a lonely, self-loathing man (a boy really) who could hardly be called masculine no matter how much he tried to emulate the sort of toxic masculinity he hated so much- the type of toxic masculinity that seemed to work so well for other men. She knew exactly who she was and loved every bit of it.
The only thing that would speak louder than her beauty would be the confidence with which she presented it. Her dark hair would drift gracefully behind her and every step she took would breath new beauty into the eyes of both men and women who ogled her and who drank in as much of her magnificence as they could until it threatened to drown them. She would be gorgeous- absolutely stunning. As I gazed at the lifeless model, my mind drifted and my imagination conjured up the image of the woman who would wear it. A silky, navy blue sash was tied lightly over the hips and a pearly white purse was slung over one of the mannequins shoulders. Over it lay a navy colored cardigan that was cropped to just below where the woman's breasts would be.
It was split on the right side so that the leg poked out, showing off a lot of the thigh, but not too much. It was a simple, yet elegant, white dress that fell to about the middle of the thigh. One day, while I was working at my part time job at a clothing store, I found myself thinking out loud as I examined an amazing outfit on a mannequin in the women's department. Shortly after coming out, I began to discover more and more about myself, such as how fascinated I was by makeup and how much I really admired women's clothing. After a bad breakup I had last year with my ex girlfriend I went on a self exploration binge and discovered I was pansexual. Actually, I haven't been "exploring" so much as diving right in. We'd met online a couple weeks ago on a gay dating site.įor a few months now I've been exploring my feminine side. This man was Anthony, or at least that's the name he'd given me when I asked. Seconds prior, I was knocking on her door and ringing her doorbell expecting for a man to answer. The woman in front of me looked at me with disgust that burgeoned on fear. I had never been so embarrassed in my life.