When I grew tired of the closet, I wanted to go out en femme, but I was very apprehensive. After years of practice in the closet, I thought my dress, hair and makeup were passable, but my size worried me.
I did go out en femme to Halloween parties about a half dozen times and those experiences should have given me confidence about my femulating abilities. In each case, I dressed in “office girl drag” and strangers at those parties asked about me – they wanted to know, “Who is the woman not in costume?” Yet, I still shrank away from going out en femme because I thought my size would expose me as a faux female.
After about 20 years of femulating in the closet and out on Halloween, I joined a support group (Connecticut Outreach Society) that met 30 minutes away via the interstate. The group provided the option to dress at their meeting hall if desired, but I dressed at home and drove to the hall en femme. Perhaps, my Halloween experiences had emboldened me enough so that I did not fear driving en femme without the safety net of October 31.
I was a regular attendee of the support group’s meetings and eventually was on their board of directors, edited their newsletter and organized their annual banquets.
In addition to the annual banquet, about once a year, my support group had an outing – usually to a restaurant where we were ensconced in a separate dining room so as not to scare the civilians. I did not cotton much to those arrangements, but it was better than nothing and it did give me an opportunity to mix with the civilian staff of the restaurant and any civilian customers that I might encounter entering or exiting the establishment. And being a rebellious sort, I always used the civilian restroom instead of the bathroom assigned to us girls in order to mix it up with the civilians.
In retrospect, those outings don't seem like much, but they were baby steps in the right direction.
I wanted more, but I still feared that my size would out me. I attended a few trans conventions, which were typically held in high-rise hotels. In those scenarios, there was a greater chance to mix with the civilians, but in truth, the hotels were just a bigger closet than the one at home or at the hall where my support group met.
At one convention, a friend dragged me out of the hotel to shop and dine. Although I looked passable, those were deer-in-the-headlight moments. I acted like a man in a dress in fear of being found out rather than acting like a natural born woman. As a result, I was read right and left.
I retreated to the closets where I felt more comfortable and I became even more active in my support group editing their newsletter and running their annual banquet. The latter probably helped me a lot because I had to deal with civilians who ran the hotel where we held our banquets. In boy mode, I would contact the banquet person at the hotel and meet with her to arrange the event. In doing so, I was admitting to a civilian that I was trans and guess what? The world did not end and the news did not phase her one iota!
As I became more active, the need to go out increased. Finally, I had to do something, so one day, I dressed to shop – sweater tunic, leggings, booties, etc (see photo above) and drove to mall. I sat in my car for almost a half hour before I could overcome my fear and push myself out of my car and into the mall.
As an average looking, middle-aged woman, I was invisible shopping in the mall. No one paid any attention to me except for the sales people trying to sell me their wares. If any sales person figured me out, he or she did not indicate the discovery and treated me as the woman I portrayed. And guess what? The world did not end and my presence in the mall did not phase the civilians one iota.
The flood gates were now open and I began going out with great abandon. I attended a four-day workshop in Manhattan as a woman, I started doing outreach at colleges and universities as a woman, I began attending ham radio events as a woman, I attended my law school reunion as a woman, etc. Whenever I went out, I went out as a woman.
And guess what? The world did not end and my presence in the world as a woman did not phase the civilians one iota.
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| Wearing Bosccolo |
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| Jack McBrayer femulating on television's 30 Rock : A One Time Special. |
