OK, one last story, and I can go to bed satisfied I've fulfilled my daily quota of keystrokes.
This is a slightly modified version of something I'd posted as a reply to a similar story on Cassie's Facebook page:
On the day I came out to my primary care doctor I was sitting in the waiting room with the usual variety of people. Old folks, young folks, moms with kids. Nobody in the office knew I had begun transitioning yet, and I was dressed at best androgynously.
Kids and I had always actively ignored or avoided each other - apparently enough negative vibes were present to repel us from each other. Yet for some reason, this time a little girl, maybe 4 years old, plunked herself down next to me with a wooden puzzle, and started handing me pieces with the invitation to insert them in the correct slots. So we played a game where I would put them in the wrong place and look puzzled, and she'd correct me. And this went on for almost an hour. I was a bit bemused that I was actually having fun with this. At one point her mom told me to let her know if her daughter was bothering me, and I was surprised that, no, she wasn't. I was actually enjoying myself. The little girl bored of it long before I did, and wandered off.
Fast forward about 5 months. So many changes in that time, including moving on to my authentic self full-time, and on a road trip with no boy clothes in the luggage. I had completely let go of the fake persona I'd draped myself with for fifty years, and was experiencing joy I'd never known. But kids were still a mystery to me. We ended up at a friend's house where there was a little boy, probably seven or eight years old. And he just couldn't get enough of me. Crawling up in my lap, giving me hugs, sharing his favorite toys, chattering away. What happened to the repellant force I used to emanate? I actually realized the kid was cute, even though he could have used a bath.
I don't know where it's coming from. Changes in body chemistry or thought patterns? A shedding of the heavy cloak of inauthenticity? Whatever it is, I'm finding that this journey is doing more than just revealing someone who'd been crouching behind a facade - it's inducing unexpected - and welcome - changes. And I'm liking who I'm becoming.
Stephanie
Addendum: When I got all the attention I had dressed for dinner in a western top and wool skirt, and my "Indiana Jones" hat. You may have seen the picture from my extensive coverage of our road trip a month ago, but here it is again.
I've read over and over that kids have a sixth sense about gender. You hear stories of them catching you out in stores, "Mommy, is that a boy or a girl?" or straight out, "You're a boy!" But there was nothing like this with that kid. There seemed to be no question that he liked that lady who was visiting. How strange...
