Greetings once more, to Danniella's Wild Dysphoria Ride!
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This post is a long one! But it is by far the happiest post I have ever constructed in my time on this earth. I hope you can take the time to read it and maybe even gain some strength, hope or positive feels from my experience.
So yesterday was a huge milestone on this crazy ride I find myself attempting to direct. It was my first day wherein I went out into the public domain in full girl-mode! Below I shall recount the day's events in a manner best befitting my narrative style...BULLET POINTS YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
- 20:00hrs, Sunday. I arrive at my friends house in guy mode with weekend bag in tow. It's her birthday! (Apparently her age can not be discussed, as it has reached some arbitrary value upon which it ceases to an attractive number, Some aspects of being female I may never understand.)
- 24:00hrs. After a fun, if numerically vague, birthday party, wherein I met lots of new people, and some old friends, who were obsessed with pointing out the changes brought on by the HRT, I retired to the guest bedroom, to sleep perchance to dream. I did not drink a drop of alcohol, sticking to my firm, self imposed, sobriety brought on by my recent alcohol problems.
- 07:00hrs Monday. I'm woken by the sound of a household full of children and women preparing for a roadtrip, and subsequent day long shopping spree. I strongly regret agreeing to go. I hide under covers and pretend they are an impenetrable force field.
- 07:30hrs Monday. Vile interlopers disturb my masterful concealment! They confirm that I am in fact still alive post-party...I begrudgingly concede this reality, as neither my own version of reality, or my protective forcefield, do anything to deflect their insistent pokes and prods.
- 07:35hrs I lay out two sets of clothing on the bed. The outfit on my left is my regular male clothing...hoodie, worn t-shirt, baggy jeans, old converse all stars. On my right is a set of my new girl clothes. Bootcut jeans, a pristine fitted white shirt, lovely brown heeled ankle boots, and a collection of various necklaces and trinkets with which to customise my look. Having made no solid commitment to either presentation up until this point (sticking with a "wait and see" mentality) I find myself at a crossroads, my internal struggles manifest via endlessly pacing back and forth along the length of the bed, talking to each outfit in turn, asking for advice and what to do.
- 07:40hrs Having confirming that none of my clothing was in fact sentient, and as such could not advise me on a suitable course of action, I finally come to a decision...I go right.
- 08:00hrs. I emerge in the kitchen in full girl mode, outfit and makeup at the ready. I manually close shut the mouths of some of my more sheltered friends who have yet seen me such a way. The birthday girl and a few others say I definitely pass, and that my body language in particular is surreal in it's natural feminine manner. I thank them for the compliments, but don't believe them for a second.
- 08:30hrs. After a light bite of breakfast, we hit the road. It is hot and the car is VERY cramped. I once more re-discover just how much my sense of smell has improved with the HRT.
- 09:30hrs. We arrive in Edinburgh! The capital of Scotland! Well...the outskirts of the Edinburgh...with the state of the traffic on the inner city (Don't mention the trams!) we decided we had best park at the airport and get a bus into the city centre proper. Emerging gingerly from the car, I feel a mixture of exhilaration and absolute terror as I look around and see...PEOPLE! D:
- 09:35hrs. After being practically dragged by my friends to the nearby bus stop, I find myself standing in a crowd of strangers, awaiting the next bus to the city centre. I suddenly become very aware that I am by far the tallest person in the crowd. Scottish people on the whole are fairly short...standing just over 6foot tall in my heels, I suddenly feel VERY conspicuous.
- 09:45hrs. After an uneventful wait, we board the grim smelling, publicly subsidised mass transport and continue on our adventure. I am forced to use my female voice for the first time ever, to purchase a ticked from the conductor. He prints out my ticket and hands it back to me with a "There you go lass". I am in such a stunned silence one of my friends has to take my ticket from the confused gentleman for me. "Hehe...sorry...she's...had a late night" my friend excuses my odd reaction, while discretely jabbing me in the ribs, in an attempt to break me out of my reverence. I do my best to conjure up and apology, but the conductor has already moved down the bus. The birthday girl hands me my ticked with a wide eyed all knowing "I told you so" expression on her face. I have to fight back a strange cacophony of giggling and crying that wants nothing more than to burst forth from my emotion wrecked face.
- 10:15. Arriving on Princes Street (THE place for shopping) The pace suddenly picks up, as the birthday girl and friends begin the furious and ancient ritual of "The Shopping spree". Small animals and children are dashed aside as the whirling tornado of oestrogen fuelled shopping frenzy crashes from one store to the next. I do my best to keep up, and rapidly come to the realisation that wearing brand new heels for this endeavour was probably not my best idea ever. Once more I feel conspicuously tall. As I can see clear across much of the seething mass of people on the street and packed into the stores.
- 10:45. A number of shops in, I found myself having purchased only a couple items of jewellery, despite seeing some nice clothing I would have quite liked to try on. As I stand closely inspecting the cut of a woman's blouse I rather like, and wondering if my bulky torso would rip the delicate seams to shreds, one of my friends catches my eye. She lights up when she sees what I am inspecting and says "That would really suit you! You should try it on!" I quietly express my inability to do so...as I feel cannot technically justify entering the women's changing rooms. She is a smart person, she disagrees. Now we find ourselves standing in the middle of an isle, discussing the finer points of gender as a social construct. I am expressing that I don't even believe anybody would let me in the changing rooms, as I clearly don't pass, when a child rounds the corner at full pelt. It flies towards me with that furious arms flailing, tongue lolling run, that only a child under the age of 6 can experience, and barrels straight into me. The child rebounds and is quickly reclaimed by a worried parent who exclaims "Watch out where you're going! You almost knocked that lady over!". I once more find myself shocked...and as I politely confirm that the toddler had indeed caused no grievous bodily harm to my person, I turn to my friend, who now wears the most singularly smug expression on her face that I have ever seen.
- 10:50. With arms full of clothing, and a heart full of anxiety, I approach the female changing rooms. The woman manning the changing rooms sees me approach and gives me a big broad smile. "How many?" she says in the most cute Irish accent I have heard in years...I blush and look round, attempting to gesture, with my burden, towards the gathered friends. "Oh just me and some friends, 6 of us." I say. She laughs and points to the pile of clothing, "Um...No...how many articles of clothing?" she clarifies...Turning a uniquely nuclear shade of red, I indicate the number of clothing items and receive and appropriate tag, before being shown to the changing room. I find myself naturally averting my eyes from the partially clad women, who are showing their potential purchases off to friends and family. None of them even bat an eye as I try on my clothing and leave.
- 11:00 A spring in my step, and an increasing number of bags on my arms, we stop in a Starbucks for a hot beverage (Yes...there are Starbucks even in Scotland...No I don't know how it happened.) I manage to decipher enough of the convoluted secret language of the Starbucks to facilitate my ordering of some tea and a hot bagel. As I stand in the centre of the crowded store, I glance around and once more find myself to be easily the tallest person in the building...yet nobody is paying me any mind. I have never been so happy before, to simply blend in.
- 11:30-14:45. The day continues on a similar note. I receive not a singular dirty, odd or questioning look or remark all day. By this point I am walking more confidently, and coming out of my shell more. My feet are beginning to hurt, but I find that with my long legs and tall heels, I can take long elegant strides, that allow me to keep up with the other girls, while providing the beneficial side effect of giving me a lovely walk, with all the hip swaying I could desire. I was feeling confident. Venturing into the girls changing rooms? A problem of the past! Why was I so worried anyway!...But then...I encountered another of the new trans person's worst nightmares...the hot beverage I had previously enjoyed betrayed me!...I needed to pee...and to make matters worse...I was coming untucked D:
- 14:50. Quietly expressing my distress to the birthday girl, and warning her of the inevitable diversion we would shortly need to make, she realises my conundrum. Sauntering into female changing rooms was one thing...but what bathroom should I use? Somehow the idea of entering such a private place was so much worse! I mean, sometimes women will take their significant others into changing rooms regardless of gender...but the women's toilets? That was a whole different kettle of fish.
- 15:00. Sadly, all my attempts to will into being an extra dimensional portal that began in my bladder failed, and my attempts to telekinetically fix my tuck faired no better. As such I found myself in a state of mild panic as I realised that I must deal with the problem right now...otherwise nature would make my decision for me. Mustering up a combination of courage and desperation, I spotted a nearby Starbucks (Yes...ANOTHER one...this is a common thing in other countries too right?). As my friends looked genuinely concerned for my well being, I heard one of them call after me, as I zipped across the road towards the mass produced beacon of metropolitan glory "Are you sure? Would you like us to go with you!?" But I was already on course "->-bleeped-<- it!" I squeaked as I barrelled into the bustling coffee house and, for the second time in my day, I went for the right, crashing into the women's facilities, with not a moment to lose.
- 15:05. I came away with a number of interesting lessons after that event. 1: Women's restrooms are far nicer than men's, primarily because they seem to lack the thin coating of urine on the various surfaces that men's toilets are famous for. 2: Women talk while going...AND WILL DO SO TO COMPLETE STRANGERS! All my masculine indoctrination screamed at me when I heard a concerned stranger's voice echo over the stall "Are you okay honey?" (clearly she heard my meteoric decent into the adjoining stall and assumed I was in the process of some major crisis). And 3: Apparently, even if I am rushing into the loo with a bladder that is about to burst, I still keep my female body language, as not a single person clocked me in the slightest
- 15:10. By now I was on cloud 9, I was confident and strutting my stuff. My friends would later say that it was like night and day between before and after my visit to the restroom. I was told that I "entered as a passable trans woman, but emerged as a confident...and annoyingly hot woman". I would normally question the validity of that statement, but to be honest, I did feel like a whole new person. In one day I had overcome so many enormous hurdles that I was expecting to struggle with for months, and I had done it all without a second glance. Suddenly I didn't care that I was the tallest in the group. Hell! I LOVED it. I have these gorgeous long legs and firm behind, I was going to show them off. If I was the tallest, it just meant more people could see me.
I have never felt such an overwhelming surge of confidence before. I felt like every fibre of my being was alive, every motion I made was 100% natural and RIGHT. I was no longer putting on an act, no longer pretending to be a woman, I WAS one. I knew inside that I could take on the world and anything it could throw at me. I was me, for the first time in my life...apparently it showed 
- 17:00. We meet up with some more friends, the birthday girl's sister and her boyfriend. None of them know I am trans. I am introduced by my female name and we continue our day without incident. I notice more and more men and women on the street looking at me. Once I would have felt self concious, I would have thought that they were seeing through my disguise. But now I realise, I am not wearing a disguise any more. They are simply seeing me. And from the way the men check me out, and the way certain women pull their men that bit closer as I strut by...I think some may just like or even be jealous what they see!
- 18:30. Exhausted, and with most of the shops closed for the day, we stop in a bar for some drinks and a bite to eat while we wait for a bus back to the airport. Feeling confident, I say that I will go to the bar to place the order. I feel the eyes of my friends on me as I approach the bar. Using my best posture, I lean against the bar in a manner I have often scrutinised and envied of other women. I don't have much to utilise on top...but apparently I have enough to garner the attention of a barkeep. I am served almost instantly, despite the gathering of men attempting to push their way in. I place the order for my friends (harder than expected, as I have never had to use my female voice loudly). The bartender smiles and makes himself busy arranging the various cocktails and drinks from upon the bar. As I cast my gaze to my side I spot the gentleman beside me. I have disposed of my jacket, and while my leaning over the bar did little to emphasise my upper half, it did wonders to show off my lower. I catch him checking me out. When we establish eye contact, he smiles embarrassed. "Oh hey...GOD!...sorry for staring." he stammers. I laugh it off and tell him "Don't worry about it. It's actually rather flattering, in a base instinct kind of way, I must clearly be doing something right". He is shocked by my reaction, maybe women are not normally as forward as this, I don't know, I have never dated. "Haha...well, I'm all about the flattery." he manages to retort "So...um...can I buy you a drink?". Feeling like a hard named heroine in my very own romance novel, I retrieve a pair of crisp notes from my purse as the barkeep presents me with the tray of colourful drinks. "Sorry" I smile "I pay for my own drinks." I wink (something I can't remember ever doing before) and turn away, carrying the tray for drinks away from the gent and back to my gathered friends. The last expression I remember seeing was one of mixed awe and disappointment. Putting down the drinks, I am greeted with the barely contained excitement of the girls as they ask me what happened. "Just some guy hitting on me" I smile as my friends explode with various exclamations of shock and excitement. The birthday girl's sister and her boyfriend look puzzled, they state that they are clearly missing out on the joke. My friends compose themselves "Oh...sorry, it's just that...she just got out of a 10 year relationship...so this is a big thing for her". They accept this and tell me how hard it must be. They have no idea. I smile to myself and take my first sip of wine in months. I've earned it.
- 19:30-22:00. The return journey was completely without incident. We chatted incessantly, showed off our purchases, and then, with some tear filled farewells from the girls, and promises to do this again soon, I returned home. My feet were on fire, I was half drunk, covered in sweat and I needed my bed more than than ever before...but as I collapsed on the soft mattress surrounded by a months worth of wages, transformed into bags of clothing, I have never felt so good in my entire life...
I hope that wasn't too boring or long winded. I really wanted to share that day with you all, and almost make a record of it for myself in the future, so I can look back on it in the future and and relive, even in some small part, the greatest turning point in my life. Xx
