Technically we are all pink on the inside.  

Technically we are all pink on the inside.  

It all started at the age of 23. I went to an Old Navy with my friend Paige. It was like any other day. We naturally traveled to the women's section. Something changed inside me. "I'm going to the men's section real quick," was paired with, "Very funny, V. Come on." I picked out what any respectable, newly-discovered lesbian would pick out: Cargo shorts. I went to the dressing room, put them on, looked in the mirror, and started to cry. This was the piece I was missing.

 I had slowly weeded out the high heels and actual bras. Big thanks to whoever invented sports bras. It wasn't until the age of 30 or 31 when I finally said goodbye to my last dress. It was a long purple summer dress. I remember dropping it off at the thrift store. On a small scale, it must be what it might feel like for a woman to have a hysterectomy or mastectomy. Had I lost being a woman forever?

Now, when I get ready for work at my day job or at night for a show I open my closet and what do I see? A collection of men's shirts, pants, ties, belts, blazers, and shoes. When I go out into the community this is truly who I am. It's not about getting looks or making any type of statement. It's just about being true to me. 

Many people have innocently or not so innocently asked me why I dress like a man. Do I want to be a man? My answer now is, "I don't dress like a man. I dress masculine." Somewhere along the line it was put in our minds that men and women should dress differently. Women and men should wear specific colors. I still find myself slipping up by saying, "men's clothes." So to all the ladies who feel dapper--lace up your shoes, cinch up your tie, be who you are. Be proud to be a woman.