When I got up this morning and somehow I just knew I would go out dressed as myself today. I can't explain it. Perhaps it was on my mind through the night. I woke up with no more f*&^s to give.
I put on a really a light make-up of foundation, hint of blush, subtle lipstick, eyeliner and mascara.
So... what clothes? I wanted to make my first time 'really express me'. A slightly quirky artist chick in her thirties.
I wore a charcoal and black subtle striped jumper, black top, black skirt to the knee, black woolen stockings, doc martins laced high and because it is killer cold right now, finished the look with a boho scarf some fingerless wrist gloves (copies of Alice Cullens from twilight: new moon - see pic below- I got them off etsy).
http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sTzBdGjowrs/TzrUJq4zTWI/AAAAAAAAAQY/1lrm6INuCdM/s1600/Alice+Cullen+Fingerless+gloves.jpgActually my hair isnt far off her look in that film either, now I think of it. I certainly look as pale as her.
I actually took lots of pics to remember this and show, but dropped my phone on the trip home. She's dead Jim. Damn Samsung to hell.
So Delaney King's first adventure? I took down the trash, walked down the street, went past my local shops, went down to the bay, passed a cafe and ended up at the park, where I sat at a bench and did my morning emails. The unisex disabled toilet was, horrifically, bolted shut (wtf?) so I actually was forced to use the ladies. That was frightening. I hadn't planned on that. But I managed to time it so I left after some women entered the stalls next to me, so it actually worked perfectly. I was forced out of my comfort zone.
I was expecting going out to be this terrifying, thrilling, heart pounding experience. But to my amusement, it felt perfectly fine. As I walked along the only feelings I really had where of the comfort and freedom of movement my clothes gave me, and a sense of caution... about how men would react. I passed a few people but they glanced and went about their business. No stares.
When I returned home, I changed into womens jeans, wiped off my makeup and glanced in the mirror to toned down the feminine a bit before heading to work... but something had changed. I didn't want to. I have heard girls talking about this experience as a jack in the box moment- it is really hard to go back to playing 'him' again. It is not that it is addictive, I wouldn't describe it as that, it feels lighter. Putting back on the boy felt like a heavy load. So I didn't tone it down. I kept on the scarf and gloves, the womans black top and jumper. I went to work, got the team together and told them I was transitioning and not to freak out by my appearance. I told them about D.E.S, what it had done to me, and hrt. I told them I would be speaking at two games conferences this year, and that I would be doing it as a woman- and that I would need all of their support whilst I was there. It went perfectly. I now have an army of guys watching my back.
I know I don't yet pass completely, which was my goal before I went part time, my face certainly is getting passable now- my neck, belly and waist not quite there yet. But given the rate I am going, I can see myself full time by october.
