Funnily enough, it has become pretty much trivial to find chicks who are interested in dating me. In fact, I don’t have to find them anymore, because they find me. And while this has been rather fun, it has also been pretty distressing, because… none of them seem to get it.
When I mentioned to a girl a few weeks ago that I was outside tanning, she said, “Nooo… Be pale. Pale is sexy. 😉 I like pale.”
When I mentioned to a different girl a few days ago that I was probably going to lose 20 to 30 pounds as my muscles faded from hormones (she asked a number of followup questions that required me to explain every facet of what I meant–it was rather exhausting), she replied, “But maybe I like muscled women.”
These are just the most recent examples that I can think of, but they are by no means the only ones. The assumption that what they like should be a factor in what I do and don’t do with my appearance underlies nearly every interaction with them, and the idea that I’m doing things to make my appearance what I want it to be is, evidently, completely foreign to them. Despite how virtually everyone says “You shouldn’t exercise so that other people find you attractive–you should exercise only if it makes you feel better about yourself” and “You shouldn’t do makeup to look attractive to other people–you should only use makeup if it makes you feel better about yourself” and things of that nature, when they’re legitimately presented with someone who does exactly that, they don’t know how to understand it.
Even if I’m not going anywhere when I get home from work, I’m going to put on makeup. Because I’m not doing it for other people. I’m doing it for me. When I exercise at night, it’s not because I want to look great for other people; it’s because I want to think I look great. It’s sort of the reason that I’m transgender at all–I want to be what I find attractive. Is it so unusual to want to look into a mirror and think, “Wow, I’m beautiful” or “Damn, I’m sexy”? It has nothing whatsoever to do with what other people like and don’t like.
If I was motivated by what women like and don’t like, the very last thing I would do is look less like a man. Whatever I was doing before went pretty well; it was never a problem to find a girl. If my motivation was to be “what the average woman found attractive,” then the very last thing I would do is modify my appearance specifically so that I wasn’t that. I would be enhancing my muscles and six-pack, not trying to get rid of them.
A lot of confusion arises because I’m not masculine-interested; I’m feminine-interested. For those who don’t read everything I write, this means that I’m not interested in men; I’m interested in women. I think straight/gay/lesbian/bi are inherently broken ways of doing it, because it leads me to either being a straight male or a lesbian female, and my own gender shouldn’t determine my sexual orientation.
People expect me to be interested in men, and therefore assume that I’m doing everything that I’m doing because I want men to be attracted to me. In their own limited way, that makes sense. Most transgender women are into men, and thus are, whether intentionally or not, doing things that men are more likely to be attracted to. It doesn’t make sense, then, that I would alter my appearance so that women are less interested in me, on average.
But, again, my motivation isn’t what other people find attractive. I don’t tan because Girl C likes darker skin. I tan because I like darker skin. I’m not growing breasts because Girl L likes breasts; I’m growing breasts because I like breasts. I’m not getting rid of my muscles and six-pack because Girl M likes curves; I’m doing it because I don’t find masculine muscles and six-packs to be sexy.
What’s so complicated about that?
What other people like and other people are attracted to will never be a factor in what I do and don’t do with my appearance. I’m trying to look like what I find beautiful and sexy. I don’t give a shit what other people find beautiful and sexy. I don’t live for them.
More alarmingly, though, is that it seems to indicate a bigger problem. I suspect that the kind of girls who are telling me that they’d rather me have muscles aren’t really bisexual, or aren’t really lesbians. If they were, then why in the hell would they care?