It’s More Than Just A Little Lipstick, It’s About Identity

Oddly, I didn’t feel scared. This was different for me. There was a bit of anxiety pulsing in my chest, but it felt different than normal. The pulsing might have even been more from excitement than fear.

The day after I officially came out as non-binary, I went to the Chanel beauty boutique at Saks Fifth Avenue with the sole purpose of buying a new lipstick. I am not new to lipstick or lip gloss, but my chosen colors tend to be pinks and nudes that are similar in color to my lips and therefore don’t stand out as much as they enhance the already existing color. These lipsticks don’t announce themselves to the world yet still give me the pleasure of feminine expression.

If you’ve read my previous post, you know how pink and red shades of polish on my nails once made me uncomfortable. The same can be said of lipstick. A bold shade that proclaims itself before the lips wearing it are determined to be mine is something that I have been unwilling to do. The culprits are fear and shame. Those two hateful siblings allow me to feel more uncomfortable in my skin than anything else.

But, just like my desire to wear the pink or red nail polish, I truly desire to adorn my lips with color. And so here I am.

 

I knew that I had to face my fear of being seen and what better time than the present? The eyes were done. The clothes were chosen. The earrings were in place. The final step before departing my house was to swipe that color on my lips. And as you can see from the above photo, swipe it I did.

As I said above, I was oddly calm when it was time to leave my apartment. I was ready to step outside of their protecting walls.

And you know what, nothing happened. No one said anything. The negative reaction I feared was not expressed. As one prone to holding onto the negativity provided because of other people’s insecurities, I know how important it is to hold onto the positive ones. I’m working on that.

I also know that no matter how small the steps, forward is forward. I am supported and loved by the people that I have chosen to share my life with.

Courage comes from within. But surrounding myself with people who encourage me and lift me up and push me forward makes being brave a little easier. And with bravery comes confidence.

Today I confidently wore Chanel Mystérieuse lipstick. A bold and vibrant choice for a (hopefully) bold and vibrant new me.

Freedom, Bravery, and Boycotting in America

San Fransisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick kneeled during the national anthem. We all know this. What seems to be missing for many is the why. He kneeled, instead of standing, in response to police brutality in America. Specifically against people of color. It was a form of non-violent protest that continues to divide and incite outrage.

"I am not going to stand up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color. To me, this is bigger than football and it would be selfish on my part to look the other way. There are bodies in the street and people getting paid leave and getting away with murder."

These are the words of Colin Kaepernick. This is the why.

Now I have my own why: Why is anyone offended?

This was never about disrespecting the national anthem. (It's merely a song for Christ's sake.) It was never about disrespecting the country. It was never about disrespecting the military. It was always about protesting the abuse of fellow Americans during a song that is supposed to represent America and elicit pride in the hearts of those of us living in the "land of the free and the home of the brave!"

So again I ask: Why is anyone offended?

The unfortunate election of Donald Trump to our nation's highest office, and his childish, petty, bullying rhetoric (the campaign, tweets, rallies), has clouded the judgement of so many in this country. He has shined a light on the hate, that up until his campaign started, had remained at the edge of the shadows. Yes, I know that bigotry and hate surfaced on a daily basis in this country. But nothing like what we are now seeing. Donald Trump does nothing but incite his base with a white power entitlement that has, I believe, legitimized their racism, bigotry, and hate. At least in their own minds.

I saw an image on Twitter last night of country singer John Rich's sound man holding the Nike swoosh symbol from the top of a pair of socks. This sound man had cut them off. This is because Nike has made Colin Kaepernick the face of their 30th anniversary "Just Do It" campaign. This sound man is not the only person offended and angry at Nike. I've seen videos of people burning their Nike sneakers and cutting the swoosh off of their shorts. It's amazing. The #NikeBoycott is happening.

I'm taken right back to 2003, when Dixie Chicks lead vocalist, Natalie Maines told a British audience: "We don't want this war, this violence, and we're ashamed that the President of the United States (George W. Bush) is from Texas" 

The backlash was astonishing. Radio stations stopped playing their music. Images of people burning Dixie Chicks merchandise and rolling over Dixie Chicks CDs with a tractor emerged. 

And here we are again. 

Was the war in Iraq necessary? There were no weapons of mass destruction. Was the Dixies Chicks' statement really that far off the mark?

Do we really need to be shooting (often killing) men of color who are unarmed, with police officers found not guilty for the shooting? Is Colin Kaepernick's kneeling really that offensive? Or are people angry that their own prejudice is being served to them on one knee?

A friend of mine talks often about the swinging pendulum between Conservative and Liberal. How it swings one way and then back the other. He often talks about finding a middle ground. We don't seem to be able to find that middle ground these days. Partly because we don't talk to each other. We talk AT each other. We argue with and call each other names. Thanks to social media this unfortunately is very easy. I myself am guilty of it. 

We live in America...the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

We are free to kneel. We are free to stand. We are free to boycott. We are free to have our opinions. We are free to worship. We are free to NOT worship. We are free to love who with love and have sex with that person. We are free to vote for change.

But are we brave? There are many brave Americans doing brave things every day. In respect to this piece, I believe Colin Kaepernick to be a very brave individual. He stood up, or this case, kneeled, for what he believed in. He shined a light on injustice. Those that would try and diminish that light by destroying their Nike merchandise will never stop the movement he started.

The Dixie Chicks may not be recording currently but let's not forget that they recorded another album (Taking the Long Way) after that backlash that debuted at #1, sold 2.5 million copies in the U.S. alone, and won five Grammy Awards including Album, Record, and Song of the Year.

I think Nike will be okay. So boycott away. The kneeling will continue. Trump is "only for now." (Thank you Avenue Q.) Progress is not a bad thing. Racism and bigotry will never go away. And the divide between Conservative and Liberal may widen even more before that middle ground is met. 

Americans are, however, still Free to be as Brave as we want to be.  

The Woman in Me

I want you to take a second and look at yourself in the mirror. You may be thinking: I do that everyday what’s different about today? Well, today I want you to really look at yourself. Who do you see staring back at you? Is it the real you or the mask of you, which you hide behind? Are you brave enough to be who you really are?

I was standing on the platform of my subway stop in New York City waiting for the train to take me to work. I remember feeling fabulous that day--to use an overused word. I was wearing a pair of camel-colored, wide-legged corduroy pants with vertical stripes in black, charcoal, blue, and teal; frayed edges where there should have been hems. The pants were a throwback to the 70s from the first time the 70s made a resurgence in fashion. I was wearing a jewel-toned teal button up with a wide brown belt and brown Frye boots. It was a bit chilly that day so I was also wearing my I-Feel-Like-Olivia-Pope-From-Scandal-when-I-wear-it charcoal gray trench and carrying a brown distressed Marc by Marc Jacobs tote. I was boldly and happily expressing myself in my personal style. I felt pretty.

My mind was adrift as I waited. I was listening to my iPod--lyrics running through my head, drum beats pounding in my ears, thoughts of “Where is the train” beginning to frustrate me. While my mind was wandering down its own path untethered, my subconscious took over. When mind and body reconnected I honed in on that word “pretty.” I didn’t feel handsome. I felt pretty. (I know there are men who are more pretty than handsome but societal gender rules tend to leave no room to call a man pretty.) This wasn’t the first time I’ve felt this womanly feeling. But as I'm finding myself more introspective about who I am, I became very aware that I was thinking of myself presenting more female than male. Everything about my clothing was decidedly male, but I wasn’t thinking of myself as male. It was a very strange moment to realize, connect with, and acknowledge that feeling. No one around me knew what was happening to me on the inside, but clarity was washing over me. 

Growing up in a small town I became aware very quickly that my appearance was very important to the adults around me. I remember a time specifically in the 80s when highlighted hair for men was very popular. I wanted highlights so badly I took the hydrogen peroxide bottle from the cabinet beneath the bathroom sink, poured the clear liquid into my hands, slicked it through my hair, then waited for my brunette strands to lighten. They didn’t lighten, of course. Wrong kind of peroxide. But hey, give me some credit for trying to be resourceful. 

When I asked permission to get the highlights done by a professional I was met with a response that still annoys me to this day: “What will the older ladies at church think when you get up to sing?” That question wasn’t so much about me as about the asker, but it was the spark that ignited my flame of apprehension. It wasn’t even my spark and yet it has consumed me for most of my life. For too long I have feared what other people think about me—what I’m wearing, what I’m doing, what I’m saying, how I live--and their response if they object. 

"In all our lives what we believe colors how we feel about ourselves..." Deepak Chopra.

I believed I had to act, dress, and present myself in society’s idea of a man because of the people around me. I struggled to do it, only presenting my authentic self behind closed doors because I was afraid and ashamed. All because I didn’t fit the mold someone else wanted me to fit into. 

My self-confidence, self-esteem, and self-worth were colored for years by the ideals of other people. As an adult, I have often stepped outside the expected boundaries but not without fear of rejection, retaliation, humiliation, and/or punishment. If I experienced none of those things from outsiders, then I’ve been known to heap one or more of them upon myself. The seeds of being ashamed of myself were planted so long ago in the garden of my youth, that no matter how much preening I’ve done there remain thorns sharper than ever in the landscape of my adulthood.

I had an epiphany that day on the subway platform. I don’t know why it took so long. I know I’ve always been more feminine than masculine. It’s in my mannerisms and style choices. Since the day I discovered fashion magazines I’ve been more drawn to the creativity and beauty of women’s fashion. To this day, I read Harper’s Bazaar, Vogue, and W to be inspired by what’s new in women’s fashion. I then take that inspiration and apply it to my own male based wardrobe: a color here, a ring there, a brooch on a lapel, a shoe with more of a heel; mixing masculine and feminine. This is not new information, but it was an Aha Moment--a turning point if you will--toward fully accepting who I am as a person and expressing who I am as a person with more courage and confidence than ever before. 

This has been a very thought provoking few weeks for me. I began to wonder if I was gender-fluid (is that preposterousness?). I don’t feel I’m transgendered. I’m not a transvestite. I don’t want to be a drag queen. Some days I simply feel more female than male, but ultimately I believe my inner and outer genders are a match. This questioning, however, led to some research and a deeply honest conversation with my dear friend, MJ, who considers herself gender-fluid. MJ let me talk about what I was feeling and ask questions, then without fear of judgment revealed details of her own life’s journey to me. It was personal and eye opening. I’m proud of her and respect her. She is one of the brave ones courageous enough to live her life in the light instead of just the shadows. I was searching for a label; a group to identify with (I probably fall somewhere on the spectrum between Metrosexual and Dandy), but I didn’t need that at all. I just needed to be brave enough to be myself, show myself. MJ helped me see that.

I am a man--a homosexual man. I present as a man. I’m attracted to men. I just happen to like to mix the masculine and feminine aesthetics in my everyday presentation. And what of it? It’s simply about having the courage to express my personal style. 

If I want to wear eyeliner, I wear eyeliner. It looks good on me. I'm more confidently embracing the fashionable embellishments with which I choose to adorn myself. I’m also more confidently embracing myself and living as a more authentic me than ever before.

My courage grew three sizes that day on the subway platform when I turned the corner of acceptance and found my own arms open to welcome me. I’m now less worried about other people’s reactions to my trying on women’s shoes or testing nude lipsticks. What does any of it really matter? It’s my life. I own it. Courage and confidence are key factors for any of us attempting to be a self that deviates from society’s norm. 

There’s a newfound joy in my heart. It’s a joy I’ve found because no matter how often I said I was being my authentic self, I realize I wasn’t until now. My journey has taken a turn down a flower-lined path that I’ve honestly been afraid to walk down. Blurring the lines between masculinity and femininity (though not being androgynous) is something I think I’ve been searching for the courage to do since I became aware of fashion and style back in high school.

“Be brave. No one remembers a coward.” 

That quote came to my attention in a story about Marigay McKee in the November issue of Harper’s Bazaar--the Daring issue. Daring is an appropriate word to be swirling around in the mixed bag of descriptor words in my head right now. As an adjective it means “bold or courageous; fearless; adventurous.” I’ve never quite seen myself as any of those things. I often sell myself short though. We are our own worst enemy; harder on ourselves than anyone else could possibly be.

Now back to the that request that opened this piece. The reflection in my mirror has often been distorted by cloudy black spots of fear and self-loathing revealing a dysmorphic, shadowy, confused image. Is that my truth? I think not. But I’m only now beginning to fully accept my truth and have the courage to see the man--his beard and his curled lashes--staring back at me.

In one of her trademark voice overs, Meredith Grey of Grey's Anatomy spoke this kernel of wisdom: "They say shame controls every aspect of human behavior. It's about who we believe we are. But in the end you can't hide. The truth is right there for the world to see. Our shame can choke us, kill us...if we decide to let it. Don't let that happen to you.”

I refuse to be ashamed of or scared to be myself any longer.

The time is now to find the courage to be who you truly are. I, for one, have wasted too much time worrying about the opinion of others. I refuse to waste another minute. There are heroes and role models and pioneers out there for you to glean courage from. Or you can be a pioneer and forge your own path. The world needs you. 

I’m brave enough to be me, to show the world the real me! Are you? Embrace yourself. Accept yourself. Express yourself. Be yourself. If I can find the courage, you can find the courage. We’ve got to be who we are, people.

“Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit” E. E. Cummings.

(Here is where I end this chapter. It felt like the complete truth when I wrote it, yet somehow still feels less than fully honest. The journey (and the questioning) continues…)