See me as who I am...

I have spent an hour getting ready; or maybe just 20 minutes. I have applied the perfect amount of dark purple and pink eyeshadow to give me that subtle, smokey eye look; or I have seemingly made it out of the house with no make up at all. I have blow dried and fixed my long, thick hair - preparing it carefully for the humidity of the Texas air; or I have thrown it up in a ponytail. I have selected the PERFECT pair of jeans....or skirt....that accentuates my long legs. I have definitely worn the perfect top to flatter my....well lets just say I look beautiful in today's outfit. I have thrown on smokin hot heals because nothing feels sexier than the perfect shoes; of course, sometimes simple is sexy and its a flip flop kind of day.

Regardless of what I am wearing, I am walking with my head held high - because even if you prefer flops over heals or make up over bare skin, there is no denying that confidence is sexy. And confidence is something I am full of. And yet, in the middle of the day, in a crowd of people, I have never felt more...alone. More...invisible.

(In)Visibility. Its an odd thing isn't it. I hate it. Sometimes I wonder if I look at you a certain way, will you know? Will you see through my exterior? How many times have you walked past me and not noticed? How many times have I wanted to shout, 'WE'RE THE SAME YOU AND I!! WE'RE THE SAME!' How many times have I wondered about your life? Where did you come from? What's your story?

I have this insane curiosity about your background you know. I do. Maybe its because in someways I feel like such a baby. Such a newbie. Maybe its because I long for camaraderie. I need to talk to people like me! I need to be able to share stories to people that can relate. To talk with others like me and like you, that know what it feels like to be ignored, to be looked at with hatred.

And, I would really love to talk with your wife. Because I am more like her than you. She understands me completely. She knows what it feels like.

What it feels like.....

What does being femme feel like? It feels like I am in a world with expectations set for me that I can never meet. It feels like having to make the decision every day, multiple times a day to correct someones verbiage about my family. I can choose to let them think I am married to a man...or I can speak truth to them about who my wife and I are. It feels like coming out. Every. Single. Day. And not just to the straight world. But to the LBGTQ community as well. I feel as though I should wear a T-Shirt that says 'YES I AM' every time I go to gayborhood without my wife.

Oh, but please, understand this. I LOVE being femme. I love who I am and embrace my sexuality. I finally accept myself and love myself 100%. I love being all dressed up and on my wife's arm. I love the way she looks at me when I first wake up - no make up and messy hair. I love that she loves my long hair...and my long legs. And that she would rather see me in short shorts than cargos. I love that she knows I need to pamper myself every once in awhile.

I love that who she is - a strong, label-hating, beautiful, fierce, confident, sexy *butch* - compliments who I am - a tender, label-embracing, curious, make up loving, beautiful *femme*.

I love who I am, I just wish you would see me as who I am - as a femme - because being (In)Vi sable, really just sucks.