I spent the past week at a kind of camp with a bunch of people of all ages who attend pretty much every year. I won't go into detail, because I'm worried about identifying who I am in RL, but it did involve music.
I usually have a really hard time being around people all the time, and for the first half of the week or so, I was having to withdraw a lot. But at some point, I started to notice that it was a really accepting crowd. Even the people who seemed gruff would actually try to communicate that they weren't disapproving of me or whatever. FWIW, there were two children with Down's Syndrome who are really integrated into the community. My most obvious TG aspect is that I like to wear skirts and dresses and am "transitioning" towards more feminine ones. My style of dressing was not just tolerated, but people felt free to admire what I was wearing and sometimes offer advice as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I'd sit down at any table and would be included like I belonged there. People told me about their lives and listened when I told them about mine. They even asked me about it. Even the kids would talk to me like I was just another person. I began to be able to spend more time among them and not get so stressed out and burned out.
I began to get the feeling that maybe -- just maybe -- I could someday be a more or less unedited version of who I am and not get put down or excluded for it. Maybe I could find out what the unedited me looks like. On the last day, when some of the people dressed up some, I wore a dress I'd made a few years ago with lots of organza and taffeta and which had LED's sewn to the skirt lining, so they were visible through layers of tulle and organza. (It had kind of come to me in a vision and I went out and bought the fabric and made it in a month or so.) I felt really over-the-top. I was afraid that it would be too much and people would be weirded out, but they weren't. Everyone seemed to think it was awesome. I started thinking: maybe there are places where I could be visible and not have to hide.
Maybe.
It was like the closet door was opened and after a few days I started to notice that it was open and think: you know, maybe I could go out of my closet. For just a little ways and just a little while. (But always making sure I can run back inside, of course.)