Crossdresser Heaven » Crossdressing: The Lighter Side

There is Only One Toilet

Vanessa Law — Tue, 22 Mar 2011 12:14:00 +0000

Transgender Bathrooms Aren't All Fun And Games

I was going about my business the other day, as one would on any regular day. I was finishing up some errands before heading home to get ready for an evening out with friends. It must have been one too many Peppermint Teas – which I’ll admit are now my all time favorite and are doing their best to keep my newly kicked coffee addiction at bay – when I just had to go. I rushed into the ladies room to ensure that the tea took it’s rightful place in the circle of life. .

Then it hit me.

There is only one toilet

I’ll never again enter a men’s bathroom.

Not that I consider this much of a loss. Stepping over puddles of urine and trying to avoid all manner of foul odors and hygiene faux pas was never high on my exciting weekend activities.

But it hit me hard. If they introduced a new technology in male urine capture, I would be obvious to it. I’d never get to use the spray-guard 2000 urinal with build in mini-game and real time facebook score tracking. This what it.

Forever I’d have to make do with the pleasantly scented and relaxing confines of the ladies. With it’s walls adorned with artwork, vases overflowing with flowers and floors suspiciously clean and urine free.

With Great Toilet Power Comes Great Responsibility

As I brushed my hair and checked my makeup in the restroom this morning I pondered my earlier advice to crossdressers about using the ladies bathroom. Find a private restroom if possible, get in and out quickly, smile and be confident. When there is only one toilet this advice no longer holds true. It’s not practical to confine myself to single-use restrooms, or to leave my makeup in a state because I couldn’t touch it up for fear of lingering.

This is real life now – there is only one toilet. I’ll wield it’s power wisely.

The Ma'am Shock

Vanessa Law — Mon, 07 Jun 2010 12:10:13 +0000

The Ma'am Shock

I’ve been meaning to write about this for months now. Ever since that day waiting in line to mail some return some Christmas gifts we bought for ourselves that didn’t quite fit (I told you it’s been a while…).

It was a crisp Seattle December morning, and I was waiting in line at the local UPS store. I don’t recall exactly what I was wearing, but it was decidedly feminine – complete with makeup and accessories. Naturally, being a few weeks before Christmas it was packed, so while waiting patiently I played with something on my phone. I left myself just enough attention to move along in line as I wound my way to the counter. Lost in thought I heard someone say, “I can help you here ma’am”. I prepared myself to move along in line as the cashier helped the woman in front of me. Except – there was no woman in front of me. He was talking to me.

I had been so lost in thought that my reptilian brain had reverted back to the many years of conditioning as a man. While distracted, with only an inkling of awareness I wasn’t expecting someone to refer to me as “ma’am”. Usually when I’m treated as a woman I feel a warm glow of validation – my soul vibrates in time with the universe. That day I felt … shock.

I had been shocked out of my masculine mask by one short phrase – “I can help you here ma’am”. For a long time afterwards I was pensive. I kept wondering, “What does this mean? Is it a sign I’m not meant to be a woman? Is it a window into my true nature?”. I’ve since come to the conclusion that this was a demonstration of the power of habit – I have been conditioned my whole life to respond to “sir”. It’s not an indication of my inherent femininity. In the same way that we’re trained to hear the softest mention of our name across a crowded, noisy room we’re trained to watch for familiar indications of attention.

Our senses light up when we hear a greeting, “Hello!”, or a call for notice, “Excuse Me!” or a cry for help, “Help!”. We’re not as attuned to random fragments of speech – I don’t turn my head when someone says “peccadillo”, or “peanut butter” – though my ears might perk up if I hear “crossdresser” – even when I’m not dressed – since this is something at the forefront of my consciousness.

Have you had a Ma’am Shock? What was it like for you?

When You Find Out You're Not A Woman

Vanessa Law — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 12:54:34 +0000

Sometimes it’s hard not to become distraught when the reality of your masculine prison presses upon you. For some of us this realization occurs at a young age, as you can see in the video below.

P.S. Kudos to dad for posting this to youtube. I imagine that’s one of those parenting moments you can’t predict until it happens

Crossdresser Heaven » Crossdressing: The Lighter Side

There is Only One Toilet

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The Ma'am Shock

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When You Find Out You're Not A Woman

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