The other night I had a dream that my sister had talked me into crossdressing at Dave and Busters.
She had picked out this like sparkly red bugs Bunny sequined dress thing for me to wear, and so I put it on.
I walk out of the women’s bathroom and I am immediately accosted by some older white dude in his like late 40s who’s getting up in my face and saying, “what are you supposed to be, what should I call you should I call you ma’am, what should I call you?”
I realized there was no answer I could give this person that would make this go away so in my deepest most manliest voice, loud enough to be heard throughout Dave & Buster’s I said, “FUCK OFF OR I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU”.
AND HE FUCKED OFF WHICH WAS NICE.
But then immediately afterwards I realized that I was about to get kicked out of that Dave and busters while wearing a woman’s dress.
I always have weird dreams but this is the first time I’ve ever dreamed about cross-dressing or Dave & busters. I have no idea what the fuck I was smoking that night.
If this happens irl I’ll have your back. I’m totally comfortable replying with something stupid like “And what are you supposed to be you? I would call you ‘sir’, but you’re not acting like a man.”
I appreciate it but like I said I always have weird dreams and I just kind of have to go with the flow.
I dreamed once that there was a curse on my heart and that I had found a holy man, a wakan man, who could heal the sickness in me. And I’m Lakota, wakan just means set apart or holy.
So the wakan man arranges this path for me to walk in my mom’s backyard and on each side of the path are my relatives and as I passed them they turned into bears.
Finally at the end of the path I stood there and the holy men made some motions and said some words that I can’t repeat and then all of my family came together in their bear forms and fell upon me.
And I died.
And I was being escorted into the Afterlife by an amorphous psychopomp figure, and I noticed I had just come out of the door and this door was a wooden door with four glass panes in it and hanging from the four glass panes on the outside were three round Stones about an inch and a half in diameter wrapped in twine in a triangular formation with each of the stones touching each other.
I asked the psychopomp what those three stones meant, and it told me that those three stones were the sign of an accursed death.
Then we wandered off into the Afterlife and I woke up.
All of that being said, if I noticed the same thing happening to someone else I will similarly have their back.
Yo, that’s such a cool dream and it’s cool to talk to a Lakota. I love trippy dreams.
I had a dream last night where I was walking through a forest with some of my older relatives who had passed away (dad and grandpa) and we were just talking about life and I was asking for advice. I can’t remember anything that was “said”, but the dream resulted in the same sense of peace and calm that I normally got when talking to them irl.
I didn’t want to put out a brusque reply, partly to not offend anyone and partly so I don’t get hoisted by my own petard in the future.
I dreamed when I was young that I had a machine that could alter the very fabric of reality. Turn dirt into gold, turn trash into treasure, change a person’s body to be young and strong and perfect in every way.
I dreamed about how I could have the perfect male body, tall, fit, perfect in every way with such a machine, and then the thought crossed my mind that even if I was physically perfect in every way it wouldn’t mean that a woman would want to automatically be with me because of who I am as a person.
That self-inflicted gunshot wound to the skull of my self-esteem dealt a heavy blow to my burgeoning manhood, and I don’t know if I have really gotten over it despite having slept with many women and even married one of them.
That being said, I don’t believe I have an egg to crack. I hate myself, yes, but so much so that even if I were different, either a perfect man or a perfect woman, it wouldn’t fix what’s wrong with me.
Being a woman won’t make me stop hating myself, it would only give me new things to hate about myself and new yardsticks that I can’t measure up to.
And aside from that, men are not attractive to me at all. Like, maybe hormones would affect that and change my mind but other stuff probably has to happen first before I even consider crossing that bridge.
All of that being said, I deeply respect the other people who are going through that. I can only barely imagine what it’s like for them.
And aside from that, men are not attractive to me at all. Like, maybe hormones would affect that and change my mind but other stuff probably has to happen first before I even consider crossing that bridge.
So? You’re allowed to be a trans woman, and a lesbian. There are dozens of us I tell you!
I have a high level of respect for people that share their dreams openly.
I know this is an old comment, and I think the intent was positive, but I don’t think it’s nice to aggressively tell other people they’re misidentifying themselves (unless they are clearly looking for advice or making light of it e.g. ‘ha ha still cis tho’)
Hopefully this doesn’t come across as scolding - it’s not intended that way!
I think its not kind to insinuate that i was telling them they were misidentifying themselves when there is a QUESTION MARK in my post.
No offense, sorry. I think I was reacting to the general concept more than your post specifically.
“All clothing is unisex if you stop being a little bitch about it.”
- Some Twitter User
For real, people got to let go of “gender” as perceived by societal roles/ideas aka the views strangers and how they identify you.
Everyone should be rocking dresses in hot times! They are the closest you can get to the pleasantness of rocking it all balls out around the house, but with some sun protection.
I strongly encourage everyone to take up a sarong. And if you think that’s “faggy” you can take it up with Polynesian warriors. Who, I’ll remind you, were the only ones to actually fucked British Colonialism.
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I don’t like wearing pants much, usually only when it’s really cold or something formal. At my previous job I was the only person who wore shorts. Some people from the sales department were jealous because they weren’t allowed to wear them.
I had planned that if they tried to enforce it with us that I’d swap to kilts, and if that was a problem I’d have demanded that the ladies not wear skirts or dresses as that would be sexist.
I quit before it came to that, but a few more people started wearing shorts before I’d left, and that was enough.
do you buy online or local? I am thinking of getting a kilt but when I buy clothing I either buy thrift shop or fancy as fuck.
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I embraced dresses this summer, and will never look back.
Just around the house, mind, I’m not that brave. But fucking hell it was SO NICE getting a breeze up around my bits on the hottest days. Walking down stairs, the skirt billowing out and filling with cool air. Shit’s like a drug.
As a bonus, my wife thinks it’s hot.
So yeah, I’ve spent a bit on Vinted these past few months buying pretty skirts and dresses and sure, I’ve still got a beard and am kinda hairy, but I feel nice when I’m wearing them.
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It was an amazing ploy. Everyone knows the British can’t shoot straight with an erection.
Kilts are the way to go if you have a penis.
But why? Why should we wear gendered skirts? Why can’t we wear pretty, floaty skirts with bright colours and patterns? Why must all of our clothing be so rugged?
Eh, mainly because dicks.
I’ve worn kilts. Not my thing, it turns out.
I’ve also had dresses on. Not my thing, but I liked making my friends happy, and I worked as a bouncer at a drag club, so happy sometimes meant dressing the big, hairy weightlifting dude up in pretty dresses. Again, not my thing, but fun anyway.
But I noticed something pretty damn quick. Even in the kind of sizes I was wearing, even with underwear on, that dick is going to be obvious. With no undies, that thing flopping around under a dress is silly as hell, and very visible. Like, even standing still, it’s obvious, but you try dancing and not having your dong move the fabric.
But a kilt? Not so much. The pleats of the fabric ones hide your junk better, even when doing something stupid like tossing a log. But leather ones? Good to go entirely. You just don’t show.
Now, I’m not saying that’s the way it should be. I’m of the mind that there’s nothing harmful about flopping dong at all, and not even hard dong as far as that goes. But I’m not in charge, and there’s a lot of people that would object.
So, dudes get stuck with heavier fabrics and other tricks to keep the dong from being as visible.
But, any dude wants to wear some light, pretty stuff? I’d support them. Just might have to tie the dong down
That’s the question. It’s the perception of others and conformity of traditional social stereotypes. The more someone has bitten into old gender stereotypes and roles—or just gender in general—the more it’s of concern to them. It’s the same as buying into hair colour, tit size, height, etc. and thinking these define you somehow, based on old sociial opinions of them. But the truth is, it’s all faux. Man-made. Nothing in the universe cares about it except human society. If there were no society, you would not know what these concerns are. You would wear whatever the fuck you want because it’s all about practicality,.not having an identity projected toward stranger’s opinions and society.
Nope. I want a pleated skirt with maybe just a little bit of stretchiness to the fabric.
Buy me one!
I would like to go balls out, but I live with more people than just my wife so that would be rude
edit: misread, yeah maybe I can talk her into getting me a kilt or sarong I’ve been wanting one
I have 3 kilts and they’re oddly uncomfortable for me. Maybe I feel vulnerable having my bits swinging in the breeze? I could wear underwear, but that kinda kills the whole idea?
I sadly get this backwards.
I’m not a looker and I am autistic, I can be awkward…
I was just at the grocery store getting ramen and coffee for the night.
This lady basically looked at me with disgust and went on about how creepy I was and how she’s tired of men thinking they can just “Do whtaever they want”, and how I need to “Keep my fucking distance”
I was literally just standing waiting to check out, all I said was “Don’t mind me”, and that was in response to her giving me the stink eye when I put my groceries down on the counter…
I understand she probably had a bad day (All she was getting was a ton of one person size ben and jerry’s), but literally I was just standing there, waiting to buy ramen and coffee. She rushed out of the store like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
I really had to fight the urge to say something like “Don’t flatter yourself, I’m not even the gender you’re accusing me of being.” but that would have just escalated the situation.
I had just gotten off of work, so I was half-asleep, the coffee was so that I could drive the rest of the way home safely.
Still, if she’s jumping at shadows of men even when there isn’t a man around, whatever happened to her must have been awful. I hope she’s okay wherever she is.
she probably had a bad day
People haunted by figments like this don’t stop having bad days, but it’s seemingly by choice so don’t worry
you are a nice person. I also like to give the benefit of the doubt but sometimes its so hard
If we wish to be forgiven of our sins, we must be willing to forgive others.
Could have just said man instead of ma’am. They sound almost the same.
