My Mom Would Be So Proud Of Me

For 30 years my mom has been trying to get me to wear pink and cook. For 30 years I have fought her tooth and nail.

Recently I have changed, but my mom does not live close enough to see it (hence this post).

I wear pink. Lots of pink. More than one person has complimented me on it being a good color for me.

I cook. I made banana bread this week (thanks to Eagle Eye's famous recipe) and it was a gigantic hit at the emergency clinic. I sautee vegetables. I even steamed broccoli this week. I have an Amish friendship bread starter that I am endeavoring to keep going.

What changed?

My gender identification has definitely shifted a little. Before I wanted to look tough because I knew I wasn't. Now I know I am so I feel comfortable dressing in a more feminine manner. I know that on the inside no one can take away my new found independence. It's the real deal. I can wrestle big, aggressive dogs; drive around at four in the morning; handle a new city; run in 100 degree heat and 100% humidity for over an hour. These things are not external, they are part of me. Before I felt vulnerable looking feminine. Now so much less scares me and I am confident enough to dress any way I want. (I tried to explain this to someone and she immediately got it, saying, "Clothing as armor!")

And maybe it is age too. With every passing year I am more comfortable in my own skin. I know myself. I know I am not an alpha (I'm a total omega). I'm not dominant. Yet I can often bluff quite effectively, at least with animals (and for short periods of time), when necessary. I've stopped trying to be what I'm not. It doesn't mean I can't be a leader. It doesn't mean I will let other people walk all over me. It just means that I accept myself for who I am and I am not fighting it. (I might add that I'm not saying that someone who is more of an alpha could not be very feminine, certainly Eagle Eyes and T are very much more alphas than me, and they are also more feminine in their gender expression than me. I think it causes a lot of problems when people conflate gender expression-- or gender performance is the term we would have used at Amherst-- with other traits that are considered feminine. I'm just trying to say that accepting myself makes it possible for me to dress as what feels like me).

As for the cooking, that is a more practical matter. For most of my life there has been someone to cook for me. First my mom (thanks mom, I know I was an incredibly picky eater as a kid). Then my college roommate (I think EB singlehandedly kept me alive through the rough spots in college-- me and D, her two high-strung companions). After college my ex-husband cooked for me and then my ex-girlfriend, M (in retrospect neither were particularly good cooks, but I can only say this now having learned finally to cook for myself). The past nine months there hasn't been anyone else to feed me but me. So I've had to learn. It actually hasn't been nearly as hard or as tedious as I feared. I did myself an enormous favor by taking a really good nutrition class for human nurses last winter following my break-up with M. That class taught me all the basics about how to feed myself in a healthy manner. The rest has been collecting recipes and experimenting. I learned a lot from watching other people in my research group's house this summer and I got a lot of tips from my aunt K. I'm well on my way.

Well, life is certainly full of surprises. Who would have ever predicted that I would someday fully embrace my femininity? Or that I would cook-- well enough that when I stop by the clinic for something, the first thing the receptionists ask is whether I've made anything for them to eat? (I know EB for one is still in shock over the whole cooking thing, and Sunshine is surprised to see me in dresses).

But don't get any ideas about grandkids, mom. That's not in the plans. Kids are anti-freedom and will annihilate an unencumbered lifestyle as surely as anti-matter will annihilate its particle counterpart.