In a remembrance I just wrote of my very first week living “full-time,” I found myself recalling how happy and thrilling it was:
But that’s not the whole story, I now realize. Memories are tricky, and it’s easier not to recall the pain.
Especially painful was the ridicule I risked whenever I was caught not “passing” as a real woman. By the time I started living “full-time,” I had enough practice — not to mention invaluable coaching from both T- and Genetic-Girl enablers! — to fool just about anybody. But, before that, I had my share of mortifying missteps.
The worst were around children, running in packs: “Look! It’s a man! A man dressed up like a woman!”
Children, not yet “civilized,” say exactly what they think. So the horrible conclusion — which, thankfully, I didn’t draw at the time — is that a lot of adults must have “read” me, too. They were simply too polite to say or do anything but ignore me.
But now that I know I pass I never want to be ignored — and dress accordingly!