In case you didn’t know, I’ve been going through some sort of genderqueer butch transitioning/coming out process. Which mostly means to my aquaintances that my style of dress & presentation has been changing. What it means at work is that I never wear skirts any more. I wear men’s underwear under my pants. No one knows this unless they see a playboy wideband above my Lucky’s on casual Friday. They certainly don’t see me wearing high heels, unless of course they see me today in my men’s H&M shirt all big over my ladies wide bottom office pants, under which I wore some chunky high heel boots. Why? Because I felt like it.

Why to all of this? Because I felt like it. Some mornings…well maybe most mornings…but not every morning, I go through that teenagery trying on a million things & changing again & again process before I finally find the right combo of things that I hopefully feel okay in leaving the house.

And then I’m out there in the world, for the next 9-12 hors or so. I even still have a comfortable old pair of women’s underwear in the side pocket of my backpack to put on if my knit boxers get too uncomfortable bunching up in my crotch with the wrong underwear-pants-combo. I actually forgot those spares were in there since I’ve gotten into a routine of boxer briefs (hopefully long ones) under tight pants, and baggy knit loose boxers under loose pants.

My tops differ. Mostly men’s shirts or sweaters, & I’ve been wearing a suit jacket for a coat. Once in a while though, I’ll wear an old girly sweater, or even a whole girly outfit.

Sometimes people that haven’t seen me in a long time might notice & comment on some difference they see in my appearance. My uncle didn’t recognize me when I walked in last Christmas. My aunt said my hair is so pretty when it’s long (which it’s not). One cute bi girl at work noticed my clothes getting “butchier,” and that she liked it. That made me self conscious, but I smiled satisfactorily to myself as I walked back to my cube. The same friend today noticed my boots were “girly,” and I thought about whether she was judging me for not being butchy enough or something. My D.O. said she never thought she’d ever see me wear argyle when I lay down on her table in an Express men’s sweater yesterday. Interestingly she said that I looked so appropriate for the office, with my suit jacket and all, as she said she has a hard time looking professional. That was the first time it ever occurred to me that this menswear might be making me look more professional. Trying to find something to wear to the office as comfortable as my big Lucky’s & my hoodies with thumbholes is not easy. Perhaps while I’ve been wondering more about the people at the office that don’t say anything (and I think I see them think about my appearance changes), I’ve actually just looked like I work in an office. No hose and heels, no skirts and perfume. Yes button down shirts and slacks, and some men’s deodorant. Once in a while a little wax in my hair.

I’m not trying to pass for a man or even a butch. I smile inside about my own genderqueer choices, the women’s slacks over the DMK boxer briefs, the little sparkling nose stud and the butchy hair, the big men’s shirt & the chunky lady’s boots. Perhaps I look like I’m in the 80’s? Who knows?!?

When it comes down to it, I’m just wearing what I felt like. And that’s that.

xoxo, Zoey Rayal