GenderBendy

Bits and pieces

I fear my last post built a little suspense which I have since failed to provide the release for...apologies to anyone who was on tenterhooks.  :-)  My sister was visiting from Colorado over the weekend, and then fund-raising started at my radio station (that number again: 874-3000), so I've not had a second to post again until now.

The setup was, I proposed to change into full femme mode in the bathroom at my work in order to be on a panel at a trans conference taking place across campus, then walk back and change again after.  I did it, and it went all right.  I got one scoff-and-eyeroll, but also some smiles and, my favorite, a truly blasé response from the work study students.  There really does seem to be a generational difference:  people my age and older often seem uncomfortable with my gender non-conformity; people under 30 tend to just roll with it.

The panel was interesting because our audience was mostly health professionals - nurses and counselors and such - and it was clear from the questions that most of them had very little understanding of what it means to be trans.  I'm finishing a query letter and book proposal which I will soon be sending out, trying to get an agent for a memoir, and I find myself feeling newly motivated by the sense I brought out of that session of just how much basic education remains to be done.

While she was here my sister took some pictures of my face for me...front, three quarters, and profile, hair pulled back, no makeup, muscles carefully unsmiling...so I can send them to a woman in the UK who specializes in photoshopping what you could look like after facial feminization surgery.  When I have my before and afters, I will post them here.

My most recent development:  I suddenly found myself today coming out to Amy Goodman, the host of Democracy Now!  I had called her to record a pitch for our fundraiser, and she remembered me from previous similar conversations and asked about the name change, and there I was stammering my explanation.  She offered congratulations and best wishes, which was very kind of her.  Who knows what might come of that someday?  In any case, yet another proof is one was needed (it wasn't) of my newfound lack of shyness.

One more thing I've been wanting to record here...a couple of weeks ago now my daughter decided after some trepidation to tell her friends at school about my trans identity.  She was a little surprised, I think, at how well it went.  As I understand it one of them laughed, one just nodded, and the third asked a bunch of questions.  Then they gave me a wonderful gift:  another new name to add to my growing collection.  She texted me:  "They've decided to call you Madame Deeve."  With their permission I have changed the spelling, and whatever other name(s) I also end up using, I will proudly answer from now on to Madame D'Yves.  Isn't that elegant?  I love it! :-)  Thank you Sarah and Cheyenne and Sam!

Full femme debut at work today (just for a minute)

There's a transgender conference happening on the USM Portland campus today, where I work, and I have agreed to be on an "ask a trans person" panel.  It's from 1:30 to 3pm.  Originally I was going to take the whole day off to do this, but why?  I don't need all day to change any more...I don't even need an hour.  And I'm totally out at work.  So yesterday I asked my boss if he minded if I changed here at the station before walking over, and he said that would be fine...

...so later today I'll be taking half an hour in the bathroom to shave, do my makeup, put on my skirt and top and pantyhose and heels and jewelry and scarf (not necessarily in that order), and then I'll step out into the hall and get my coat and purse and walk out the front door and across campus. 

Yeah, I have butterflies, but not too bad.

My one unanswered question...should I prep my coworkers, or just appear on the scene?  To prep might be to make too much of it; to just appear might make someone more uncomfortable.  I am pleased to feel that I can trust myself to make the best choice in the moment.

Steps

I had a doctor's appointment yesterday, which I had made weeks ago because of the persistent redness on my neck from my first electrologist.  That was just to get me in the door, though...my real reason was to take her measure as a possible transition-ally.  When I broached the subject she told me she has had other trans patients, and was matter-of-factly open to working with me, if very brisk...she was running an hour late and wanted to try to catch up with her schedule, I think.  I asked if she was going to be around for a while...some of the doctors in that clinic are just passing through...and she said yes.

She asked if I was on hormones yet, and I said I wasn't, and she asked if I wanted a referral to an endocrinologist, and I opened my mouth and said "yes."  I had been thinking of waiting until summer to start hormones, but that's just an arbitrary plan from back when I told my children that I was planning to transition.  And even if I do go see this endo soon, it doesn't mean I have to immediately start taking the pills.  Still, I'm moving toward that first consult, and that is a step.

After the appointment I fetched my children, who were hanging out at the music store (they're on vacation this week) and took them home, and when we got here I really wanted to be dressed femme.  So far when they are here I've felt OK about going back into drab for them, but this time I asked them each separately if it would bother them if I put on slightly more feminine comfy-clothes than they were used to seeing, and they both made faces (twisted mouth, eyes averted) but said OK, so I went into my room and put on the soft white hip-hugger pants with the flare below the knee which Ardis gave me, and the black scoop-neck sweatshirt with red and white flowers crocheted on it.  Plus I still had the mini-aubergine earrings in I had already been wearing, and one of my new Rayon-disguised-as-natural-fiber Indian scarves, and I took off my stocking cap and let my hair fall forward...and we had an evening.  After the first few minutes there was normal conversation, joking...I think they were both a little uncomfortable, but it went all right. 

A big step actually.  I've been pondering for some time how to take it, and in the end, as with coming out at work a few weeks ago, I found myself in a moment which felt right, and acted. 

I have a new question I ask myself these days, not just around being trans, but in all my interactions with others:  What do they need?  Not, what do I want in order to feel I have been helpful, but how can I really help them?  Right now I think my children really need the opportunity to safely express what they are feeling.  I have offered them counseling in the past, and they've declined.  Last week I made an appointment with my counselor for this coming Friday and told my dear offspring that I want them to accompany me. I really want to get them talking, and I am, I hope, prepared for them to express hurt or fear or anger or sorrow...if these are feelings they are feeling.  If they do, I expect I will feel very bad, and it will no doubt slow me down...but I don't think it will stop me.  I can't think of anything non-catastrophic which could stop me now.

The chocolate-covered mandarin orange segments were divine

Happy Valentine's Day to me.  I love me.  Thanks me, I'm truly touched.  :-)

I feel giddy.  The party was really fun, and I did in fact do some flirting and also some networking...social and professional.  I feel so young and new, still, when I am inhabiting my femininity, I tend to forget that I'm a smart competent grownup with a lot of good life experience, and that people will respect that.  I have little sense of my own worth, I think...a "what, little 'ol me?" kind of thing.  Which is stupid.  Why should I not be accepted and liked and respected by people?  I'm an interesting person, to say the least.

Fun crowd...a mix of academics, neighbors, and parenting-friends.  Not quite the high-powered literary gathering I was expecting, but that's probably just as well.  Nobody batted an eye at me, even though my shapewear and dress pushed me well past "normal woman" into tranny-caricature.  I was by far the most voluptuous individual there... :-)  It was valuable to be able to  look at other women playing dress-up and to see how close I actually already am without enhancements of any kind, just in my own skin, to being shaped like a woman.

The poem-reading didn't end up happening...I gather our hosts thought it would interrupt the energy of the party, which seemed right.  We all just taped our poems up on a door.  Mine was a little damp...I had been carrying it, folded up, in my decolletage...  ;>

Early in the evening I danced a little in a loose group of dancers, enjoying feeling slinky and sexy, but still really dancing alone.  Then, later, I really felt like I wanted to dance with someone, a man, and a self-confident handsome middle-aged gent with whom I had had a short conversation earlier in the evening was standing there, so without thinking about it I stepped up to him and said "Are you secure enough in your masculinity to dance with me?"  "It would be my pleasure," he said, and we danced.  Not touching...the kind of face-each-other-and-wiggle I remember from college.  He made small talk.

A little later, in the standing around saying goodbye but actually having more conversations phase, I do believe he chatted me up.  He was solicitous, bordering on gallant...he told me if I ever needed an ally, to call on him...and he said he wanted to give me a hug, so we hugged.  And I liked it.  Oh, I did.  This was a social interaction I grasped intuitively (or at least so it felt):  the beginning of a negotiation.  And behold, I become aroused as I type.  I really really might be a heterosexual woman.  I want to flirt with men, excite men's interest, toy and play with and tease men, and in the end succumb to their strength...oh, my, it's getting warm in here...

I did some emerging from the cocoon last night, is what I did.  Not all the way.  Big parts poking out now, though...legs and feelers... hints of wings.  I pause now and respirate, extremities trembling a bit...soon I will be all the way out, drying my wings in the sun...then that first tentative spread and flex, and a launch into whimsical serendipitous flight... :-)

First party tonight!

My first party!  I'm so excited!!!

Actually, not three exclamation points' worth...I just wanted to see what that would look like...but I am looking forward to it.  :-)

The invitation is from a person I hardly know, to a Valentine's Day Ball, and it specifies "creative formal romantic" dress.  I e-mailed back to ask if that description would include full-on cross-dressing, and the reply was "Absolutely!", so that's how I'm going.

I plan to wear a dress which Ardis gave me.  It's a stretchy black form-fitting number with delicate white butterflies on it, a flippy hem below the knee, and a matching bolero-jacket with long sleeves which slim my arms nicely.  I will be wearing shapewear but not a wig...I'm getting good results with my own hair these days.  Plus a nice careful makeup job and all my favorite jewelry, black stockings, and the low black open-toed pumps...the invitation says to bring your dancing shoes.  To finish it off with a dash of color, I'll also add my flamboyant over-sized purple scarf with the exotic vaguely Turkish-looking pattern in the weave, worn loosely like a shawl, or perhaps draped between my elbows behind my back...and I think I'll wear perfume too.

I am surprised at how calm I'm feeling.  If there's anything I'm anxious about, it's that we're supposed to bring a love poem to read.  The audience is likely to be full of the cream of Maine literati (our hosts are big in that world), and I'm not feeling confident about my voice right now, so that will be a squirmy moment.  I'm also not sure what poem to read.  It's down to two choices from the "Sonnets From The Portuguese" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.  One would be cheeky in the context of the party, because it's written from the point of view of a humble unknown poet addressing a famous big-shot poet, and the other is just a pretty "love me for love's sake" poem which nicely expresses the emotional vulnerability of the trans heart.  I'm leaning toward the latter.

One more thing...I've given myself permission, should the occasion arise, to flirt.  With whom?  With whomever...

Tune back in tomorrow for a full report!!!  :-)

The end of a whirlwind week

I've had a couple of kind inquiries about how I'm doing since coming out at work on Wednesday, and I'm doing fine, thanks.  A lot has happened in a short time, all of it good.

Thursday:  I had many more e-mails waiting for me when I got to work, expressing congrats and support.  No stink bombs.  Several people said they thought what I had done took real balls, which is funny when you think about it.  There was one e-mail from a volunteer friend who read my blog from top to bottom with real attention and said some really nice things about it.  I am totally susceptible to compliments of my writing (take note if you ever want to try to get something out of me), and enjoyed a warm buzz for the rest of the day.  Otherwise, a more or less ordinary busy day at work. 

Friday:  e-mails trickling off...some people saving saying something nice for a face-to-face encounter.  Still no stink bombs.  Sharing news this personal invites return confidences...I've had more than one conversation which was mostly listening on my part.  And, otherwise, another regular busy day.  Then home to prepare for a trip to western MA for the second laser treatment on my beard.

The Weekend:  The second treatment was not nearly as traumatic as the first.  (See Zap! for an account of that.)  I knew what to expect this time, and also I'm extremely pleased with how well the first one worked.  Afterward Ardis and I started talking clothes (she's an old family friend...we played together as toddlers) and next thing I know, we're at her house and she's hauling outfits out of multiple closets for me to try, and it turns out we wear the same size shoe, and an hour and a half later I'm driving on to Sue's house (Sue is Ardis's mother and a kind of surrogate mom to me too) with two big bags in the back ...some really nice stuff.  Thanks Ardis!  Total pink fog orgy!  :-)

Sue had invited me to a night of comedy improv at a local VFW hall, and I had asked if she minded if I went in femme mode, and she said she was expecting it, so I got dressed, wolfed some stew, and out we went, stopping back at Ardis's house to pick her up too.  This was pretty much my first time out as a woman in a completely ordinary everyday social setting...non-shopping (where they have to be polite), non-LGBT friendly.  Nobody looked at me twice.  Sue and Ardis were great...just treating me like their old girlfriend in town for the weekend.  I got to experience what life will be like when I'm transitioned... and it was a bit of a letdown.  I was tired and feeling a little shook up, and the fact that I was dressed the way I wanted didn't make that go away.  I know this is a lesson I need to learn, that even if my transition goes perfectly I'm still going to have plenty of sucky times, and that was perhaps the beginning of learning it.  I still savored every moment, though.

Before I left Sue's house this morning I had added a third big bag of clothes to the back of my car...thanks Sue...clothes-swapping like this may happen all the time in girl world, but not in boy world, so it feels special, and it's a thrill to have so many more wardrobe options...  :-)

One last event of note:  I stopped for the weekly grocery shop on my way home, and an employee of the store who pointedly declined to serve me several months back was once again behind the seafood counter. (Original account here.)  He saw me coming and moved into a little alcove with his face hidden, pretending to be busy.  I felt the adrenaline begin to bubble up, and without giving myself a chance to really think about it I stepped up to the counter and waited a moment to see if he would acknowledge my presence.  He did not, so I said clearly and loudly, "Could I buy some fish please?" 

Reluctantly, with hostile eyes, he served me.  When he handed me the bag of salmon fillet, I met his eye for just a second and said warmly "Thank you kindly," and then stayed a moment more to cross things off my list before rolling out of sight.  It was a sweet ending to a fine weekend.

I've made an enormous amount of progress in a very short time.  My children are due to arrive any time now for their week with me, and I think I need to slow down now, breathe, rest...show myself I can still take a step back, bide my time...work, write, parent.

First Event day one

So I dressed and did my makeup and headed south, in a tizzy again.  I may have been working hard on this for a year, but I'm still a noob.  I forgot my lunch and my planner book, but decided not to go back for them.  Trans conference here I come.

I wore my red skirt with the spangles and the new embroidered white top which my sister gave my daughter for Christmas, and which she didn't like...quelle domage! :-).  Plus, low heels, makeup including this new outrageous purple-with-sparkles eyeshadow I picked up on a whim the other day, and jewelry including my favorite cheapo but elegant-looking dangly earrings.  And I had blowdried my hair with the curling brush the way Sue at Clip and Snip showed me...I'm getting the hang of that.

Today for sure I'll ask someone to take my picture and post it.  I was feeling too diffident yesterday.  [note added 15 hours later...new profile pic at right taken today :-)]

I spent a lot of time in sessions which were essentially pitches by plastic surgeons, complete with before-and-after slides of genital and facial surgeries.  Yes, I am comparison shopping.  There is some amazing work being done.  There was one guy who was really aggressive and loud, and I thought, I like his work, but he would intimidate me in consults...I couldn't work with him.  Being bold about being shy...

There were a couple of other transitioned women there who really had the voice thing down...I want to seek them out again today and ask them about their voice work.

Some encounters...I had a nice conversation with effervescent 70-something Billie Bliss and her new girlfriend.  Billie talked about the hugger-mugger of crossdressing in the 60's.  And Hope very kindly asked to join my at my solo table at lunch, when I was sitting there feeling lonely and exposed, and I listened to her story of crossdressing within marriage.  She didn't come out to her wife for almost a decade of marriage, but they are still together post-revelation.  The wife is accepting but doesn't want to see her dressed.

There were a few big-hair spangly-dress women there, but they were not the majority which my dazzled memory of last year conjured up.  Most everyone there was a lot like me...trying to fit their long jaws and big shoulders into some kind of femme look.  Most people seemed to be feeling as I felt...tentative and a little stiff, but so happy to be out in the world.  For the first time in my life I have a group which I, the real I, can really join, and I struggle to understand how to do that.  Feeling slightly apart has been the habit of a lifetime.  It's hard to just stop.

My last session of the day was a little gathering of politically active trans folks led by Denise LeClair, a Washington-based activist.  I sat quietly and listened and began to realize that some of the real movers and shakers of trans USA were in that room.  I felt too bashful to participate much, but now there are some important folks who someday, if I ever need to, I can approach with "You won't remember me, but we met at..."  I did chat with Denise after (we have a curious personal connection - her brother is the partner of my former spouse), and did a pronoun-slip with her...I hate it when I do that!  *SQUIRM*!  I corrected and apologized immediately, and she said it was all right, obviously completely not upset.  I continue to learn about letting things like that roll off...

OK, gotta get going for my visit today.  I'm going to try to network more, and I have a free consult with one of the premier surgeons in the late afternoon...dangerous to be doing that, with regard to setting the transition-ache going again, but I have to seize the chance.

Second First Event

I'm up early this morning - it's around 5am - to get ready to go to First Event, a big annual conference for trans folk in Peabody, MA, north of Boston.  It's an hour drive each way for me, so I plan to dress and drive today and tomorrow.  (Gotta come out to my neighbors one of these days so I can stop fussing about how to get from the house to the car in a skirt...)

Last year's First Event was my first time ever dressed in public, less than two months after my initial trans-revelation.  I drove down in man mode in a state of high trepidation, my painted nails hidden inside gloves, and changed in one of the complimentary changing rooms into my Goodwill polyester skirt and a plum-colored silk top, which I unknowingly put on backward.  (Single buttons go in back...)  I didn't have a wig or any shapewear, though I would acquire both before the day was done, in a pink fog in the shopping area.  Until I bought the wig I did the best I could with a hair-tie obscuring my short man-cut, and while I no doubt looked rather patched together none of the gorgeously decked out crossdressers said a thing.  I like that about the trans gatherings I've been to so far...everyone is very accepting.

I feel so much more confident this year, and I'm looking forward to wearing a different nice outfit each of the two days...but, I've made the decision to go once again without wig or shapewear.  I've grown my hair out and gotten it colored, and when I blow-dry and style it right, it looks solidly femme; and with regard to body shape I've been practicing getting by on posture and mannerism.  That's how it will be once I've fully transitioned.  Even with hormones I'm going to be shaped much as I am now, so I figure it's time to go it with only the standard props: my own body, hair and voice, plus clothes, makeup, and attitude.  Chin up, dear.  Loosen those hips...stick that ass up a little higher...

Something I've learned:  a little too much is just enough.  I carry it best when I'm a touch flamboyant, which is a challenge for me.  I'm the shy hide-in-a-corner (for forty years) type.  I can't go back now, though...just gotta keep sashaying forward into the light.

Stay tuned for a report on day one!

Going out, again

Tonight there's a big drag show in Portland, the Royal Majesty show, and I plan to attend dressed.  Since I lost my nerve the last time I planned to go out, this will still be the first time since that man yelled "faggot" at me in the Goodwill parking lot, several weeks ago now.

This will be my first time in public wearing a dress.  It has always been jeans or a skirt and a top before.  It's a sleeveless shapewear-hugging black and silver sheath.  I'll also be wearing the red-gold tranny-mane for the first time in public, plus stockings, heels, perfume, and several pieces of favorite jewelry.  The look I'm aiming for is gorgeous elegance.

New dress, new hair, a new high-water mark of femme presentation...but I intend the biggest first tonight to be internal.  Up until now when I've gone out in public I have felt all fluttery and vulnerable.  My self-confidence, normally so reliable, has deserted me.  Tonight I intend to hold my head high and look everyone right in the eye and strut my stuff.  I give myself permission, right now and forever more, to feel at home and free in my femininity no matter where I am or who I'm with.

Didn't go

In reference to yesterday's post: I didn't go.

There was a practical reason...Deb had something come up...but there was another reason too.  I just couldn't make the wig look right.  Either wig, the conservative dark brown one or the red-gold tranny-mane.  I stood looking in the mirror, and they just seemed fake and ridiculous.

The thing is, my own hair is getting long enough so that when I brush it forward and fluff it up, it is starting to look markedly femme.  It doesn't quite snap yet....it's not quite long enough, and the fact that it still grey gets in the way...but it's close.

So when Deb canceled, I ended up sitting at my kitchen table playing internet chess with beard-cover makeup on, my hair brushed forward, dangly earrings, and femme jeans and an androgynous top.  No shapewear.  No lipstick.  No shoes.  And when I got up and posed in the mirror in the hall, I saw a different femme look beginning to emerge for me...not in-your-face cross-dressed, but the natural earthy-crunchy tall skinny woman I might someday be.

That's the look I want the next time I go out.  Except for overt drag for fun, I think I may be done with strutting my stuff in wig and fake boobs.

Hey, if I keep growing my hair out and start coloring it (my next big treat, I think), and keep getting rid of my beard (and may I just mention, electrolysis hurts), and start wearing clothes which are subtly more femme, and if I continue to allow myself to relax into moving and acting and talking and feeling just a little more femme all the time, as I have been doing...if I keep doing all those things, I may just change by imperceptible degrees into a woman, right in front of everyone's eyes.  Maybe even without hormones and face surgery.  Those steps could just cement it.  And then with or without clothes and makeup--even dressed in my old man suit--I would look female, because I would be female, all the way through, from my innermost soul right out to my skin.

I didn't go out yesterday, but it was not a return to that old cell.  It was a step forward in a new long slow process of becoming a woman from the inside out.  That's how it's going now. 

Dressing over that seems as out-of-order as painting the house while you're still framing it.