Spring Update

There will no longer be detailed accounts of my experiences in public as a transwoman.  This does not mean that I am not having increasing bolder experiences, but it does mean that I am not going to treat them as extraordinary, or else I might invalidate them.  

Within the lmitations imposed upon myself and by my wife, my public outings have all been very smooth and problem free.  At times, I would swear that someone had preceded me and hypnotized everyone.  Even waiting in line for the women's room has been trouble free.  I get no knowing stares that are obviously reading me.  Oh, occasionally someone might briefly glance my way, but I do not react, because I do not know why they are looking at me.  While out in public in woman-mode, I try hard to naturally act the part, which also means that I do not shirk from any potentially tricky situations.

When out in public, I have stopped preparing to explain myself, because no one has asked any questions.  I have learned not to drop counterproductive hints that would out myself.  If my wife sends me on an errand while in transwoman-mode, I do not purposely mention that she sent me.  

The most prevalent problem explaining (to those that know, especially my coworkers) the difference between sex and gender.  Most people do not see the distinction, so such explanations are a lot of work, and sometimes they are fruitless.  This is why I so often refer to myself as a transwoman, instead of someone who likes to present as a woman.  

I got a new wig, a far better wig.  When I look at myself now, I see a woman in the mirror.  After getting fitted, I went to Costco to pick up a few items.  Strangely, I got several glances, but I do not think I was being read.  Another woman being fitted at the salon said I looked stunning, so it is possible many people just thought I looked nice.

The really big thing in my life is my wife will now show affection even when I am Romana. Very few of my friends are afforded this privilege.  My wife does seldom accompanies me in public, but she is not uncomfortable when she does.  No one stares, so there is no reason to be self-conscious.

I go to church as Romana on alternate Sundays.  I have a dual-sided name tag.  I occasionally give a simple explanation, because so many take me (as Romana) to be a woman, and ask if I have a sister.

This is my explanation, which people at my church liked:

From the time I was young, I have dreamed of being able to be like a woman in public. Besides the usual (sexual) affects, the presence of women has unusual (non-sexual) affects for me. The presence of women destroys my composure and knocks me out of balance. When I see any interesting woman, I feel compelled to do something about it, which for me is public presentation and expression as a transwoman. This all makes no sense to anyone, including myself. Woman is the other, the mystery that I cannot know, the goddess. Yet, I am driven to explore this mystery, so I spontaneously and metaphorically sacrifice my given gender identity to participate in the reality of the other. In no way do I actually die, but I do experience a profound metaphysical truth, a higher level of existence.

I am nearing the end of my second month of being laid-off from Boeing. I am no longer bugging human resources about company policies concerning gender expression in the workplace. Someone had been sabotaging my career for years. Of course, officially, this was NOT because of me being transgendered.

I am about to start schooling for retraining, but I am also volunteering a lot. I am going to become active in the work of Thirtieth District Democrats of Washington State, who consider diversity to be extremely important. I have been given permission to dress as I please at their meetings.

Thursday, April 01, 2004