Cinderella Liberties
Every transsexual gets caught up in the "Cinderella
Syndrome", picturing a prince on a white steeds weeping her
off her feet. Unfortunately, fantasies don't happen as often as
realities, so it is always a thrill when a guy comes onto you,
especially the first few times. The problem is, you have the body
of a woman and the experience level of a little girl. It doesn't
matter how sophisticated you were in the old role, none of that
applies now. So as a new woman you are extremely vulnerable to
male attentions.
My first encounter with a pick-up artist was before surgery as I
was shopping in the shoe department at K-Mart. I was wholly
focused on which heels to wear with my new white dress for my
20th High School Reunion, when an accented voice broke my
concentration.
"Too many different styles", the voice said.
I looked up to meet the eyes of a rather handsome man of
middle-eastern decent, his thick mustache curled up in a smile.
"I know", I replied. "It makes it too hard to
choose." I smiled back. Now if I had any sense at all, I
would have realized that this fellow was not hanging around the
women's shoe department looking for a pair of penny loafers. But,
no, innocent me just appreciated the attention.
I was nervous, to be sure, as I was still not confident in my
presentation, but he picked up the thread of conversation, and
before I knew it, we were talking as we walked through the store.
I headed toward the checkout line with two pairs of shoes,
wondering what was going to happen next. While we stood in line,
he asked if he could buy me a cup of coffee. I figured, what the
heck, and agreed cheerfully (it was GREAT to get this kind of
attention! I had never experienced anything like this before.)
As we waited for those ahead of us, he asked how much the shoes
were. Being cheap (after all, this WAS K-Mart!) I had purchased
inexpensive shoes at $10 a pair, and told him so. He offered to
buy them for me. Well.... I may be naive, but I'm not stupid. I
respectfully declined, saying I didn't want to impose, but in
fact did not want to be obligated in any way - this guy was
moving fast!
Eventually, I got through the checkout line (although not without
being thoroughly checked out by this guy) and - as I had truly
enjoyed his once over - I asked him where he wanted to get
coffee. Actually, I was kind of looking forward to having coffee
bought for me. Somehow it made me fee. like I had some value. But
he had other plans.
"It's too crowded in a coffee shop to get to know each
other", he began. How about if we just sit in my car for a
while and talk?"
Well, even I could see where this was leading, but still I felt
flattered by the attention, reasoned I could get out of the car
if I needed to, and as long as I did not let him drive me
anywhere I would be okay.
"Okay", I said.
He had a middle-of-the-road car: no great shakes, but quickly
explained, "My car is in the shop... this is a loaner."
Then, he riveted those steely black eyes on mine, never looking
away from my face, and began to tell me how he had been so
attracted to me in the store that he just had to spend some time
with me. He told me I was sexy and began to stroke my shoulder.
Moving his hand slowly toward my breast, he described how
"men are not like women: They first get the physical
attraction, then they fall in love."
Of course, I knew this was all bull, even though I had never
tried such a thing as a male. Yet, the attention was so
intoxicating, his hand massaging my nipple, so heady. If I had
not been male, he would have had me right then and there! But I
had been male, and so could call up just enough objectivity not
to succumb.
He told me that he wanted to make love to me and that we should
go to a motel right then and there.
I kept hedging, trying to get as much of this as I could without
going any farther. He kissed me and said we should go. Still, I
did not give in. He said, "Are you worried about getting
pregnant?" I replied, "I don't think I have to worry
about that."
Finally, I told him I would not go to a motel right then, because
I had to think about it with a clear head. He asked for my
number; I refused. I said he should give me his number and I
would call if I decided to go. That's when he got really nervous,
but seeing that the fish was about to steal the bait and run, he
went ahead and gave me his number. But it came with the
instructions: "Don't call except on Tuesday or Wednesday
nights, and if a woman answers, say you are a customer at my
upholstery business." Right.
Well, I escaped with my virginity that time, though if I had been
post-op at the time, I rather think I wouldn't have. But did I
learn how to stave off male attention? NOT! Some months later, I
was working as editor of a feature film. One of the actors came
in to see the dailies. Later, he found a moment with me alone and
told me he recognized me from my support group meeting. I had not
recognized him, as he was not there very often, and was not
transgendered, but a "TS Shark" - one of those guys who
has a special place in his "heart" for people in or
after transition.
He wanted to have lunch, and I thought, "Okay, it'll be fun
to have a guy buy me lunch." That went fine, and he was very
gentlemanly. However, each time he came in after that, he got
more and more "friendly", eventually telling me he
wanted to start a relationship with me.
I was (and am) still married, but at the time, did not want to
jeopardize my marriage, so I thanked him for the flattering
offer, but declined. Several days later, we were recording sound
at Universal Studios, and he came in to loop his lines. He sat
next to me and kept putting his hand on my knee. That evening,
the director, the producer, a friend of theirs and myself went to
dinner near the studio.
The fellow in question approached the director and invited
himself along.
I realized he just wanted to close in on me and so I found a
moment to tell the director what the problem was and that I would
appreciate it if after dinner he would keep the guy busy while I
went to my car. He agreed.
Sure enough, after dinner, I left in a hurry, and he was going to
follow, but the director snared him. That didn't work for long,
however, as I had not quite gotten to my car when he caught up to
me anyway. It was in a dark alley behind the restaurant, and
there were no other people in sight. We started talking and he
made a number of suggestions about how we might be involved.
After several minutes he began to come on to me very strongly. He
gripped my derriere tightly and pulled me to him. He tried to put
his tongue in my mouth.
Now, I know what you are thinking: why didn't I just tell him to
bug off? Well, part of the whole thing was my fault. The ol'
Cinderella Syndrome kicked in and made me feel special that he
was interested. I didn't want it to go any farther than talk, but
I didn't want it to stop completely either. I liked where it was.
Problem is: guys just can't leave it at that. I now know that
they just keep charging ahead until they get resistance and even
then they keep trying until they are sure the resistance can't be
broken down.
Well, I was standing there clamping my lips together but even
still, his slimy little tongue kept weaseling in and lapping up
against mine. Why didn't I just push him away? For the same
reason women everywhere are afraid to fight back: they are afraid
if they resist they will get beaten up. Suddenly I understood the
nature of female fear. Here I was in a dark alley, alone with a
determined
horny admirer whom I was sure was a lot stronger than I was. I
just held out and didn't respond until
some people finally came by and I had the opportunity to break
away and tell him I had to run.
I shakily opened my car door, got inside, and was just about to
close the door when he stepped in front of it, blocking it open.
He told me he wanted me to know how much he was excited by me,
took my hand and placed it against the bulge in his pants. I
replied, yes, I could see he was interested. I can still feel him
running his fingers across my lips when another group of people
came by. I used the opportunity to close the door, waved good-bye
and took off into the night.
Now, I'm sure he remembers it a different way. I'm sure he was
convinced I wanted him as much as he wanted me. But that is
because men and women don't evaluate things the same way. This
kind of miscommunication is just what we have to learn to avoid
as new women.
As a final example, there are two 7-11 stores equidistant from my
home. One to the East, the other to the West. When I go to work
in the morning, the West one is right on the way. I like to stop
there for coffee on my way in from time to time. At least I used
to until the counter guy got the hots for me.
The first time I met him, he riveted his eyes on me and started a
conversation. The next couple of times he would always hold my
hand when giving me my change. Finally, I went in and while
getting my coffee was startled to feel an arm go around my waist.
I looked up to see him smiling and asking me how my day was. I
just rolled with the situation and said it was just fine, thanks
and then paid and left. I could feel his eyes on me all the way
to the car.
All the way to work I hated the way he had taken liberties and
loved the way he found me attractive.
Nonetheless, I determined not to go back for awhile so things
would cool down. A couple weeks later, I went back and didn't
even get to the coffee before his arm was around me. This time I
was really beginning to feel harassed.
Still, the fantasy of having some guy so turned on by you that he
makes those kinds of advances was narcotic. But I kept from
swooning with it, paid my bill and left. I vowed never to return
again. Several weeks passed and I had occasion to stop home for
lunch. Afterward I decided to buy a candy bar at the other 7-11
which I had gone to exclusively since the last incident. This
time, however, I was running late and knew I had to stop at the
trouble spot or go without a candy bar.
Suddenly I got enraged. How DARE he make me feel ill at ease in
going into the most convenient store. How DARE he encroach upon
my freedom like that!!! So, I girded what loins I have left and
pulled into the parking lot. I looked through the window and was
relieved to see that there was someone new at the counter: maybe
he quit!
I went inside, feeling comfortable there for the first time in
months, and looked over the candy bars. No sooner had I picked
one, but the guy at the counter yells to someone I couldn't see,
"Okay then, I'll see you later!" He walks out of the
store and MY guy takes his place!!! I couldn't believe the luck!
Of course he saw me immediately, riveted in on his prey and kept
me in his sights as I came to the counter. My skin crawled in
anticipation of what might come next. But he surprised me. He
just made pleasant conversation! Things are looking up, I
thought. He's gotten the message! After he gave me my change, he
even offered me his hand to shake. Well, I thought, he's a
gentleman after all!
I reached out and took his hand... and he grabbed mine and pulled
me across the counter and into a kiss! And then another one!
Right there in the damned 7-11!!!
He released his grip, I smiled and left and haven't been back
since.
Now, why did these things happen to me? Because I didn't
understand men, that's why! Men are more aggressive than women.
To them, the only time to quit is when they are convinced they
can't make any progress at all. But I don't like to offend. And
by nature am flattered by attention. As a transsexual, the whole
concept of being desirable is better than sex - maybe even
preferable to sex!
The combination of the two different points of view led to me
being "violated" by these three men in ways I preferred
not to be. But even as I was being kissed between the Lotto
tickets and the $1.99 roses, I had the strongest surge of sexual
desire I've ever experienced without foreplay! Even while I was
being violated, I was being turned on!
What does all this mean? That when fantasy and reality collide,
its easy to be of two minds. I know I am. And until I make up my
mind, this sort of thing is likely to happen again.
Cinderella Liberties aren't just taken by the man, but are also
given by the woman. We are both participants in the act. Until
you can sort out how you really feel and learn how to communicate
if your shiny new baubles are for touching or just for looking
its a good idea to err on the side of caution. It's the best way
to make sure you live happily ever after.
by Melanie Anne Phillips