In My Choos

Keep your feet on the ground even if you are wearing better shoes - Oprah Winfrey

With that O quote at the forefront, I'm launching a new series in my blog called In My Choos.

It is about my, or any T girl's, journey walking in my, and her, shoes, stiletto or flat.

What is it really like for a T girl in this crazy world?

It is a peek into what we go through trying to balance in our high heels.

I hope to give an idea, however tiny and futile, of how hard or easy, sad or happy, complicated or simple it is to wear those shoes.

What would you do if you have my killer heels?

Like they say, you have no clue until you walk a mile in my (Jimmy) Choos.



Pilot Episode: Being Clocked

Oh, no, she's a dude! What the fuck?!

These are words any T girl would cringe to hear and be uttered to her pancaked face. I have had my share although I have long ago stopped wearing pancakes in my face. It is hurtful, an ego-crushing statement that will surely leave scars to your self-esteem.

Being clocked is possibly the worst offense one can do to a T girl, especially if she has done some of those painful if not expensive surgeries to look like a real woman. Outing us in public with an intent to insult just takes the cake for us.

I clearly remember an incident not long ago when the moment I stepped out of my apartment building in Manhattan looking all dolled up for a party, a group of guys hanging outside stopped on their tracks and stared. Some gasped, others whistled. I knew I looked fabulous and I had them at a rapt attention.

Then a black guy (blacks are good at clocking us, I wonder why) screamed those dreaded words to my suddenly flushed face, and pointed out at my big feet as evidence. I was wearing my size 10 gold heels (sadly, not a Choo) at that time, a late afternoon, and a gorgeous cocktail dress.

Fearing more catcalls, I had no choice but to rush back in. There in the safety of my building's lobby I waited for my ride to come. I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror there and saw a beautiful woman staring back. From the outside I looked great, but deep inside I knew my ego was crushed.



Everyday a transgendered person is harassed for the way he/she looks. We can shrug off these insults and move on, but you have no idea how it is affecting our morale and the very core of our being. I know I'm a strong person and can handle these incidents with panache. What about the weak ones? How do you think they cope?

Being passable 100 percent and carrying on as a woman is perhaps the holy grail for most T girls. We want attention, yes, but not the kind where when we get home, we'd feel bad about ourselves. I sense that some people gawk at me when I'm out. For what reasons, I have no idea. But it gives me pause and ponder, am I good enough to pass off as a woman, the gender I identify with?

It is not so much that I feel ashamed when I'm clocked. I can live with the shame - been there, done that. My attitude is, and has always been, that if you have a problem with how I see myself, then it is your problem to deal with alone. I have no time to make the world a better place for bigots like you.

Being transsexual and transitioning into the gender I was not born into, I have had high hopes that it would be easier simply because I am finally getting to know who I really am. Such is not the case here, however. I am not complaining though. This is my life and I intend to live it the way I want it.

But easy or not, we T girls plod on towards the end of the journey of self-discovery we have chosen. The road may be long and arduous but we know that, ultimately the destination will be rewarding. And in my Choos, it'll be fabulous as well.