Crossdressing? Own Your Shit Bittttttttttch!
(warning: little cursing in this blog. I’ve done well on social media, but my blog is gonna rain down f-bombs on occasion, but only for emphasis.)
OK-
I had to write some thoughts on this super fast. As some of you know, I’m selling a majority of my clothes. Where I’m going, is too humid to wear a lot of stuff I’ve accumulated over the years. Furthermore, I’m not going to travel internationally with all my clothes (again).
So- I’ve had a “closet sale” posted on gumtree for a week or so now. I’ve had a few people message me about whether or not I’d sell some of my clothes to a boy. One person in particular I’ve never met, but have been friends with over Facebook for a while. I was completely taken by surprise with this guy! I had NO idea! But was honoured that he trusted me enough to tell me, as well as want some of my stuff. He was totally cool with his shit.
Then, another guy, total complete stranger, messaged me about a week ago via email. Finally arranged for him to come by this afternoon to take a look at some dresses and “skinny jeans”. After spending 3 years in the “muscle fetish” world, nothing really surprises me anymore. I’m one of the most open-minded people I know, and am a bit odd myself. I find “normal” boring AF, and think there should be more “freaks” in office.
Anyway-
After some going back and forth via text message with this boy, I had a feeling he was going to show up in women’s clothing, and wasn’t the least bit anxious. However, when he pulled up and parked across the street, and sat out front for 10 mins, I started wondering. I thought when guys crossdressed, they either were all in, or all out. Either wearing a wig, makeup, heels, and the rest of the kit- or not at all. After some coaxing, this fella got out of the car wearing flip-flops, a skirt and tight shirt that didn’t match, and a black windbreaker. No wig. No makeup.
As he started walking up the driveway, I opened the front door, standing in my black tights and neon green sports bra. Looking ragged AF, I said “Hi Jasmine!”… without batting an eyelid. <this is how my brain works> I wanted to use a little scare tactic and throw open the door to disrupt the energy flow and make sure this guy wasn’t packing a machine gun under that jacket! I told y’all I’m very open-minded…. so much that sometimes I think more on the paranoid side than not.
Again, anyway-
He walked in, SUPER nervous, and said “h-h-hi”. I escorted him back to the closet, and pointed out some dresses and ‘skinny jeans’. (I put skinny jeans in “‘s because I think that’s a stupid way to describe tight jeans) Long story short, I gave him a tight dress for free I’d picked up from forever21 for like $6, and as we were walking to the front door, I said,
“who fucking cares what you do in your spare time!”, “own your shit!”. “I’m not supposed to have muscles, but do you think I give a fuck?! Nice to meet you!”
After about 10 minutes, he sent a text thanking me. I wrote back and said, “the more you own your shit, and are OK with yourself, the more society will accept you for you. Negativity will come because you attract it. If you have negative thoughts about yourself, and feel like you’re doing something that you shouldn’t be, then you’ll attract bags and bags of dicks. I know it’s hard at first, but fake it till you make it.”
You know- you’ve got to surround yourself with people who approve, support and don’t give a rats ass WHAT or HOW you look, SO AS LONG AS YOU ARE HAPPY!
This whole concept of “owning your shit” is the basis of Konfidence. As I always say “work what cha mama gave ya!”….. If you love it, then everyone else does too.
Some day, when I release this goddamn book I wrote 5 years ago, I talk about how we all know that one boy or girl when we were younger, that was NOT the standard of attractive, growing up. However, they were confident, and thought they were ‘the shit’, and had an air about them that made them attractive. For me, it was a guy named Byron in college at Sonoma State University. This guy had a fucking unibrow and was a bit lanky. He wasn’t a hunk by any means, but because he felt like he was Elvis reincarnated or something, he oozed confidence, therefor oozed attractiveness.
So whether you cross dress, wear muscles as a female, gay- whatever you are or do- own your shit! Be proud of your unique style and be OK with it. It starts by making a conscious decision to accept yourself. Practice it- rewire your brain to thinking you ARE OK, and that there is nothing “wrong” with your decisions. Then watch what starts happening to your environment…..
That is all.
Namaste Bitchesssssssssssss!
and P.S. you know it’s the ones that HATE, are secretly the ones that DESIRE. for example, the hick you went to high school with who wore wrangler jeans, drove a 4×4, chewed, played football, and was a queer basher, turns out to be THE gayest man on the planet 8 years after graduation.
It’s the guy that talks SO much shit about women who have muscles, that secretly gets off work from the supplement shop, and puts on women’s pantyhose, and masturbates to video clips of zit-popping (yea- it’s a fetish….). People act out simply because it’s a reflection of their own insecurity.
Rise above, and OWN. YOUR. SHIT!
The post Crossdressing? Own Your Shit Bittttttttttch! appeared first on Kortney Olson >> Konfidence By Kortney.