Who am I?

Who am I? Or what am I? Do I really care? Do I want to know? And do I want anybody else to know?

All of us must at some point have asked one or several of these questions. And found different answers each time. Or maybe not even had an answer to one or several question(s) at some point.

After a lengthy private period at home as a woman, I had to do some out of house business last week. Exactly a week ago, to be precise. In order to be able to go out, I needed to look just a bit more maleish. What I did was to take off the yellow nail polish. While I was at it, I removed it from my toes as well although they would not be seen.

Male or female, I never leave the house if my hair is not properly done. Should I brush comb my hair straight, it would reach below half my back. Not quite to my ass but steadily approaching. In male mode, I could obviously not go out looking like that.

Neither would I go out looking like that in female mode unless the house was burning. Alas, no matter which mode, I spend several hours in rollers before stepping out. I can only allow myself the luxuory of sleeping unrolled if I am absolutely positively really really sure that I am not going to place my pretty nose outside the walls of my flat all day.

The difference between female and male mode as far as my hair is concerned is how much of the curl I leave visible and how fluffy I uncombe the hair. Sometimes there is no difference at all. All of this depends. Among other things, it depends on my mood for the day.

Male or female, I would also not step out without a thorough shave and make up. The foundation is a must, as well as some powder to attach the foundation. How much of each, would depend on the mode but no thumb rules could be issued. Sometimes I am even less made up as a woman than as a man but I would still look more feminine. This is not only because I always use lipstick in the girlie mode. It just sometimes takes more of the make up stuff to look less made up.

So out I went last Friday. My hair was not too fluffy or curly. The thick layers of foundation and powder made my face look like that of a man after a thorough shave. The yellow color was easy to remove from my finger nails and I did not even dream of applying lipstick.

Last Friday I felt like I passed as a man. Now, that is a funny thing to say because I am a man. Or am I?

Usually I have great problems passing as a woman on those rare occasions I dare go out in the female mode. But a week ago I actually felt like a woman trying to pass as a man and succeeding.

Having attended my business and returned home, I was exhausted and just had to make myself extra girly. Il'll skip the details but I have to mention my nails because they will have some importance later in this story. As I was so female as can be, I gave my appearence the final touch with the reddest and hottest nail polish I have ever seen. Or at least ever owned.

I eventually made my toes during the weekend with the same "fuck me red" color. As this is my absolute favorite (apart from yellow, green, dark blue, black and almost any other color) I have ever since been wearing the most transparent and least toe inforced tights.

I might have lived happily ever after unless I had realized last night that I needed to go out as a man today. So far so good. The roller set is pretty much the same for both modes so it was all routine last night.

The problems started this morning. Although I knew I would act as a man most of the day, I just unvolunteerily made my hair fluffy. I was trying to make my face look guyish but unfortunately with little success. I did not apply the lipstick, though.

The nails were the most difficult part of this mascerade. That particular nail polish is the stickiest I have ever used. No matter what you do, the nails look perhaps redder after removing the color than before.

But I had no time to regret. I had an appointment and I was going to keep it. And I did too.

This time I did not feel like a woman trying to pass as a man. I actually felt like a man. The problem was that I did not look like one. I looked like a woman in a jacket and pants. To be more precise, I looked like a woman with a neatly done feminine hair, a cool make up (although no lipstick) and carelessly removed red nailpolish. Apart from these trivial facts, I was wearing all male clothing and feeling like a man.

I do not have this sort of problems very often. For most of the time I am able to modify my looks and behaviour to fit the gender required. Feeling, acting and looking like a girl or a guy whenever one or the other is supposed to be present.

So I am wondering if something is happening to me or if this is just temporary. Have I lost the control over my modes and if I have, how are they going to switch on their own? More importantly, who the heck am I?

Funny as it may sound, I am not worried at all. The future's not ours to see, what will be will be.