Pronouns.

Like many of us, I never got to talk to my parents about things like sexuality and transgender topics.  Both of my parents would have been mortified to have the subject raised over the Sunday roast. And then they died.

To be fair, I don’t think either of them were quite ready to talk about such topics.  They were born in the 1930’s and these are subjects that simply weren’t on the agenda during their lifetime. That is not to say that they don’t have a contribution to make on the subject of ‘Pronouns’.

My mother, a girdle wearing statuesque woman of conservative English values, held one thing above all others. Politeness to others.  Had I told her that a guest in our house identified as a punk rock hamster, then out of deference to the wishes of a guest we would have had to refer to the hamster at the table with unquestionable politeness and respect. I suspect that had Stalin or Mao showed up in our English parlour for tea, we would be expected to hold out the chair, sit after they had taken their place and make polite conversation about the intemperate weather and the  promising outlook for the turnip crop this year.

Raising the subject of genocide, persecution of minorities or (God forbid) the forced labor camp deaths of homosexual prisoners would have been considered bad form and may have resulted in a reluctance to return for tea another time. Admittedly this exact scenario never played out in our home counties home, but I think you can see where I am going with this.

Equally, it can come as no surprise that when my father watched a documentary about German prisoners of war – a small number of which escaped from a prison camp in Northern England in 1944 – he stared at the television screen with visible disdain. For the Waffen SS officers to have dug a tunnel out of the confines of a prison with a desert spoon merited their being sentenced to hang immediately, if for no better reason than to do so using a desert spoon, before the use of main course cutlery, was practically a crime against humanity. Well, English humanity, at least.

So, I can say with absolute certainty that had someone come to the house and mentioned that their chosen pronoun was ‘they’, then the matter was settled. They would be a ‘they’ from that moment on.

As archaic as it may seem, this concept holds true as well today as it did in their lives. Whether straight, gay or any shade between, their principal object was to be polite and treat people with respect. To date I have yet to come across a system that improves on this simple behaviour. After all, when we do behave in this manner people do generally treat us with respect in return.

Now, I have to put the tea on. I’m expecting Kim Jong-un any moment. The supreme leader wouldn’t like it if I failed to warm the pot before he arrives.

Fiona

A tool you might get excited about. It’s not what you think.

At the time of writing we are in the midst of a Corona Virus lockdown.  We’re 8 weeks into it, here in Vancouver, and most of us have not seen many people throughout this period.  For some it’s been a period of reflection, and a chance to rethink many of the things we have formerly taken for granted.

Many of us have struggled with the idea of how we identify with genders. This is nothing new and is a confusing and troubling subject that is often hard to discuss. I’ve said many times that we shouldn’t concern ourselves with gender labels, or for that matter sexuality labels. My experience is that they’re confusing, mean different things to different people, and really don’t serve us well. They may serve those who wish to judge us, or shove us into a pigeon hole – a prospect that doesn’t seem either appealing or comfortable – but exactly how does that serve us?

Yet there is always that question, “what am I?”  Am I ‘trans’, or ‘gender fluid’ or some other label that helps me understand myself. What are the boundaries here and where do I fit?

My constant mantra here is not to judge others, nor allow their judgement to hurt you. Placing a label is doubtless a form of judgement. While dropping judgement is a lofty goal it’s a very solid one to have in mind. I try to practice it, but I could probably try a little harder at times. When someone cuts me off as I cycle to the store, I may pass judgement and express it with my middle finger, and I am the first to acknowledge this doesn’t really further my goals.

Continue reading “A tool you might get excited about. It’s not what you think.”

Outed – A discussion about trans life with Lenni and Jules.

What happens when someone is outed? Lenni and Jules discuss the challenges of being ‘outed’ as a crossdresser, or transgender – intentionally or otherwise. Be sure to participate with the continuing discussion via Whatsapp here: https://fionadobson.com/join-our-elit…

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Crossdressing – Keeping it in the family.

Does the family know? Do you share it? There’s a lot of questions about crossdressing, and gender fluid life that are likely to emerge. How does one handle that? Enjoy this discussion with Jules and Lenni, as they explore the subject.

Breaking the cycle of buying and throwing out clothes.

I remember pulling into a remote gas station on an empty road and thinking I was probably the only customer they had seen that day. In a plastic bag beside me was a pair of tights, some cheap panties and a bra that didn’t really fit.

I knew they had to go. I had been wearing the items, hurriedly bought as I’d made my way across the state on a business trip, when I was in my hotel room. After all, no one could possibly find out about this little pecadillo of mine, and what could be nicer than indulging this desire on a business trip in the middle of nowhere. But now that trip was over and it was time to dump out the evidence. This place looked safe enough, remote and overlooked by all but those who had to be here.

The gas station attendant was inside their little shop, watching something on the TV. I got out of the car and filled the tank, glancing at the trash can on the forecourt. If I dumped the clothes here they would likely go unnoticed. After all, who sorts through their trash at a gas station. No one would know I was disposing of the clothes I’d been wearing just a few hours ago. No one would guess that I was a crossdresser. After checking both ways up and down the lonely highway, I reached into the car and hurriedly tossed the plastic bag into the half full trash.

Continue reading “Breaking the cycle of buying and throwing out clothes.”

Let’s talk about breasts.

There’s not much doubt that the idea of having breasts is hugely appealing to any crossdresser. The question of whether or not we want them 24/7 is something very different. However, there are doubtless moments where a great rack would be very appealing.

So what really is the benefit? It’s tempting to think it is purely aesthetic. Well, it’s not.  As I sat in The Junction in Vancouver recently with some friends, 36 D’s pointing proudly at Jake behind the bar, I couldn’t help noticing that a large part of why I was enjoying myself so much that night was to do with not how I looked, but how I felt. The presence of a full chest, even below an Aran sweater, felt absolutely correct.

Continue reading “Let’s talk about breasts.”

Keeping it in the family.

When a partner decides they want to explore the gender fluid world of crossdressing it’s going to introduce some new strains on a relationship. But does it have to be the end?

Sailing on a gender fluid sea.

I enjoy sailing. More than that, I love sailing. Sometimes I will take Sebastian out and we’ll race 16 footers at a local club, and we do pretty well. Other times I just want to mess about on the water, just being me. And that means probably dressing in something mildly effeminate which, when viewed from a distance, you’d never know what gender I might be.

There’s something fundamentally genuine about the elemental connection with wind and water, and this strangely indeterminate person between the two. Regardless of gender, how one acts with sail and rudder will result in something beautiful. The wind has no gender bias. The wider world, however is not so generously democratic.

I have noticed from many of my members that there are definitely days in which they are more inclined to be feminine than masculine. For many, it’s not even a question of ‘days’. It’s a matter of situations.

Continue reading “Sailing on a gender fluid sea.”

Let’s go back to basics.

So many of my members have spent years suppressing their desire to dress, and only once it is indulged do they find a sense of joyfulness. Sometimes this is accompanied by feelings of shame and guilt, and it all seems very confusing.

Suppressing these feeling can result in feelings of frustration and depression. Often members report that they never understood why they felt so lost, until they began to allow this side of themselves to emerge.  Prior to embracing their gender fluidity they report feeling lost and fail to understand ‘why is this happening to me’?

For the vast majority of my members it’s about easing into a more comfortable place on the gender spectrum. For some it may be as simple as becoming just a little more androgynous in the way you dress and think. Others will of course find they do want to allow themselves to become far more feminine. I’ve certainly found that many people now go as far as using HRT (Hormone Replacement Therapy), either herbal or pharmaceutical, without any desire to go for full surgery.

In the end my Premium Program is created to help you find the appropriate place on the gender spectrum that will work for you and fits with your lifestyle. There’s an expression in the LGBTQ community, which originated in the gay and lesbian world, but is very applicable to those of us who consider ourselves to be gender fluid.

“We don’t raise our young. Instead they have to find us.”

Some of us take quite a while to find our tribe. This can take the form of people in your own community or even systems like my Elite Whatsapp Group – where many people find support and friendship. Hopefully we get there in the end. That’s when things start to make a little more sense.

Fiona

How crossdressing can change the world.

I was sitting in my kitchen this morning, a skillet sizzling on the hob spilling delightful aromas out into the garden, when I heard the sound of Sylvester’s chopper drawing into my driveway. Sensing the presence of sausage he often unaccountably appears. Now, the same could be said of some of my gurlfriends, but that really is another story.

Arriving just as I was about to pour the coffee, Sylvester showed up with his niece, a glorious young creature of thirteen.

“Fiona, this is Anastasia,” he said as he entered. “She’s heard so much about you, she said she’d like to join

Continue reading “How crossdressing can change the world.”

Let’s not get hung up on labels.

I see a lot of comments on forums and blogs about the idea of labels. It seems to be a common pass time to try to decide if transgender people are the same as transvestite people – and some terms are now archaic, and others have slipped into alternative use. One way or another I find it a complete mine field.

I am certainly not going to step into those debates. I do understand that there are many different types of people who choose to wear women’s clothes. Some are on their way to transition, others are choosing to put something on as they really find a sexual high out of it. Others still simply want to allow their femininity to blossom. Personally I am enjoying navigating the middle ground between genders that allows me to enjoy something of the best of all worlds. I think we cater to all of those possibilities here on FionaDobson.com.

I find the term ‘gender fluid’ fairly generic. The movement freely and easily between genders does describe what many of my members do, if not who they are. And there I think lies the safe ground. After all, do we really need these labels? Particularly here, if we really think of the phrase ‘Accept yourself as you are, create yourself as you desire’ you’ll see we are not really interested in what others think or how they choose to judge us.

Continue reading “Let’s not get hung up on labels.”

The French Engineer

I remember a hot morning in Johannesburg, at Jan Smut’s Airport (now renamed to O. R. Tambo International Airport). A small group of reporters and photographers were out on the apron, in front of one of the hangers.

The Highveldt air was still and heavy. Not a blade of the dry grass stirred on that windless morning. The sky was so blue it would make you almost sing just to look at it.

A new aircraft autopilot landing system was being demonstrated by Airbus. This was a hands off landing system, and fully automated the final approach prior to landing until it came to a halt on the runway. It was a pretty advanced piece of technology for the time.

The press boys were all grumbling about the early hour and sipping coffee. There was no smoking on the tarmac either. Some of the engineers from Airbus were meeting with us to talk about their innovative system and were chatting away in French in a small cluster a few yards off.

Continue reading “The French Engineer”

Crossdressing – Do I have to be submissive?

I was asked a curious question by a member this week. I’d just got back from a dance class with Sylvester, my mechanic.  Admittedly going to a dance class with Sylvester is a little like taking a gorilla for tea with the Queen, but it is nothing if not entertaining.

“If I am a crossdresser, does that mean I have to be submissive?” wrote my member in an email.

“What do you think,” I asked Sylvester.

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Crossdressing – where’s my compass?

When one first realises that there’s a little more to crossdressing than simply putting on a pair of panties, most of us start a journey without a compass. Almost inevitably we do so alone.

For many of us finding out that there is a world of gender fluidity is a revelation in itself. As we explore it further, either through online discovery or tentatively exploring alternative lifestyle in our community the first steps are laden with challenges. When something is as simple as a fetish it is easily contained and managed.  The suppression of a side of ourselves that has been trying to find expression throughout our life is likely the cause of unhappiness and probably depression. As it begins to grow stronger and we move to a point where it is no longer suppressed we start to find joy and fulfillment. However, for many of us there is no yardstick and no guideline to follow that steers us in the right direction.

Continue reading “Crossdressing – where’s my compass?”