Dear Sixteen

By Paula Gaikowski

Sixteen is an age when we think we know everything, yet we know almost nothing. In my 60’s perhaps, I’ve learned a few things – one of those things is how little I do know. With that in mind I’ve decided to write a letter to my 16-year-old self.

Dear Paul or might I say Paula?

I am writing to you from the future. You don’t know me, but I know you very well. There are 50 years that separate us and time, you will learn, changes all, which in a practical sense, really makes me a different person. 

I won’t tell you how our life story goes, but I will tell you that there is nothing to fear. I won’t ask you how you are because I know exactly how you are: confused, conflicted and depressed about a lot of things. The disfunction at home, Mom and Dad’s fighting, their alcoholism, trouble with schoolwork and you feel lonely, uncertain and sometimes hopeless. 

There is also another really big thing that bothers you, a big secret that you are embarrassed and ashamed about. Yes, I know that you feel like and want to be a girl. I know that you dress in your mom’s and sisters’ clothes after school. I know that you have just read Christine Jorgensen’s biography and was moved by it. Yes, I know your deep dark secret. It’s okay. You have a condition that is not understood in 1976, but in a few years, there will be a name for it, “transgender.” You are transgender.

Before we talk about that big secret, I want to give you some advice about some of the mistakes we made along the way. 

First, take care of your health and your body. In our 20’s and 30’s, we drank a lot and it really had a negative effect on our life. We also over-ate and gained weight. We did this as a way to blur the anxiety and depression we were experiencing as a transgender person. 

Next year, our sister is going to build a house. Stay off the roof; you fall off and hurt your back.

At one point, you decide not to continue your education. One regret we have now is not doing so, please consider this carefully.

As for your home life, Mom and Dad in the year 2022 are much loved and better understood. Granted the environment you are living in now is emotionally unhealthy and a toxic environment for a young person coming of age. You leave home after high school and that will be for the best. Right now, you know what is right and wrong and what is good and bad. Trust your instincts they will serve you well.

So, let’s talk about your big secret. I know right now in 1976 Bruce Jenner is in the news for winning the Olympic decathlon. Guess what? In 2015, Bruce announced to the world that she is transgender and transitions as a woman. I won’t tell you her new name. I’ll let that be a surprise. Her biggest regret is hiding this secret and losing the chance to live as her true self for so many years.

In the year 2022, transgender persons will be much more common. The medical field will have treatments for persons like ourselves. You will be able to change your body to match how you feel inside. Gender reassignment surgery, facial feminization surgery, breast augmentation and hormone replacement therapy will be offered in most major medical centers and be covered by insurance.

Major corporations will help employees transition on the job and transgender persons even serve in the military.

I understand how joyful you feel when you spend time dressed as a girl and imagine life as a young woman. I also understand the apprehension you have if your secret was to get out at this time in your life; you fear that nobody would understand or support.

People will come and go out of your life and you shouldn’t be afraid to be yourself. You will find that people who care about you will accept you and support you. The persons who don’t are the ones who don’t stay in your life that long.

In the next few years there will be times when you have a chance to share your feelings with some – trust them and do it. I decided not to and regret that. 

You’ll have a relationship with a gay woman. Both of you will be navigating your awaking sexuality. She will offer to teach you about fashion, style and dressing as a woman. She will also offer to take you out and introduce you to other transgender persons. Take a chance and don’t be afraid.

Stop beating yourself up for being transgender. You did nothing wrong. You were born differently and have a different path than others. You are a good, kind, thoughtful, hardworking, intelligent and caring person. You have so much to give to the world no matter how you decide to live your life. Just trust how you feel and don’t be afraid of what others might think.

I had a good life living as a man. I’ve been successful and had a family and a wife. However, along with this has been periods of deep despair and a constant low-grade depression – a feeling that things are not right. A square peg in a round hole. Just get through the next few years, I would always say.

I know myself very well at this point in my life and have given “our secret” a lot of thought and consideration. I can say that deep down I know that I would have been happy living as a woman. I’ve learned over the years that these feelings are much deeper than wearing nice clothes and glamour. In my heart and inborn in me is a need to be seen, socialized and loved as a female. I know that I would have contributed to society and lived a full and satisfying life as a woman, wife and mother.

With Heartfelt Love, 

Your 63-year-old Self

Wearing Bebe

Femulating in Paris in 1964

Fear Not

By Paula Gaikowski

Paula on a train in London

I step toward the mirror; there she is “Paula.” A huge smile flashes across my face, a joyfulness takes over, a sense of relief. I primp in the mirror then pack my purse, credit cards, license, cash and room key. I primp in the mirror again. My nails! I forgot my nails. It takes a few minutes, but they’re pretty, a press-on French manicure – just the right feminine detail. 

I check my purse again. I’m nervous; there’s a bit of trepidation as I stand in front of the door. Faintly I hear his voice pulling me back. I stand there frozen. I open the door and step out and take a few steps. Filled with fear, I run back to the safety of the hotel room.

I go back out. This time I make it to the car. Oh gosh, as much as I want to, I can’t do this and I run back to the room. I spend the rest of the night doing my makeup and trying on different outfits. Next time I tell myself, next time.

I didn’t bust out of my and Dockers and into a skirt and heels without a struggle. This butterfly spent a lot of time as a caterpillar emerging. I spent most of the 90’s doing just what I described above and it wasn’t until 2006 that I started going out and about on a regular basis as a woman.

I was fearful of many things, but mostly it was a matter of self-acceptance. I gave myself permission to be transgender. Sounds simple, even silly, however, I finally realized that it was okay if I didn’t pass. I’ve grown a lot over the years. I no longer see my dressing as a woman as a problem to be solved. I am not doing anything wrong. I’ve cast off society’s condemnation of being transgender and realized that I am a good person and that part of my personality and character involves being transgender. 

Attributes I see missing in many men, such as nurturing, kindness, compassion and cooperation are parts of my personality that I believe come from my feminine side. When I am in public, if somebody realizes that I was a transgender woman that is okay because I am. That made a big difference in my frame of mind and allowed me to walk out the door.

As we all know, the fears we had were unfounded. Some of us went out and passed some of the time, but if we didn’t pass, we were still treated with respect and politeness.

Still many of us struggle with that bit of apprehension when leaving the refuge of our home or hotel room. After two years of pandemic imposed exile, I find myself acting like I did back in the 90’s. Gazing at that door with trepidation and pondering “what if, oh no!” 

So I came up with a little psychological ploy to overcome my doubts, fears and worries. One of the hurdles I had to get over was that I thought of myself as a man going out into the world dressed as a woman. Although I live as man most of the time, deep down I am a woman and for reasons too complex and drawn-out to list here, I live as a man.

Before going out, I check myself over making sure my look is complete. I take several minutes and begin meditating. This is a very peaceful time. After getting dressed and transforming myself, I feel so feminine, harmonious and euphoric. 

I imagine myself as a transgender woman who transitioned many years ago. I live as woman every day now, I tell myself. There is no reason to fear because I wear these clothes and makeup every day. I am Mrs. Paula Gaikowski, a married woman with a loving husband and family. I have a successful career as a woman. This is who I really am and who I was meant to be, so go forth without fear or worry and enjoy being my true self.

When I walk out that door that’s how I see myself. t works for me; maybe it will help you, too. 

Wearing Venus

Femulating on Hungarian television’s Éretlenek

Sports Bra

By Paula Gaikowski

There’s a scenic road here in New England that I take frequent walks on. It has views of the White Mountains, bucolic fields and stone walls. It’s a popular route and I often meet up or pass others. Most of the ladies’ wear sports bras and I often thought how nice it would be to have my A cup girls held high and tight just like those ladies.

The other day, I was in a thrift shop and came across and beautiful XL Nike sports bra for a bargain price. I couldn’t wait for my morning walk, a pair of black nylon women’s running shorts with small pink logo, a pair of cotton peds with pink trim, light control panty, my brand-new sports bra, and a breast cancer logo baseball cap. I was blurring gender lines just a little bit. 

My sports bra felt wonderful going on. I was amazed how everything felt so snug. I felt like all was right in the world. Off I went and enjoyed a beautiful walk.

When I got home, I was a bit sweaty and decided to change and shower. That’s when things got funny. How do I get this thing off? I tries pulling it over my head, but it wouldn’t stretch and the materiel is super strong. I tried to get an arm through, but no luck. Down on my knees bent this way, bent that way, pull here. Oh, now it’s stuck. I can’t move my arm. Ouch, I just punched myself in the face! It’s stuck –what do I do? Call the fire department! Scissors? Ask my wife for help? It took another exhausating 15 minutes, but finally I was free!

Curious if this was my own incompetence in the feminine arts or was this a common problem. I Googled “can’t get off my sports bra” and low and behold, I find a plethora of narratives, videos, memes and jokes about sports bras after a workout. It seems if you want a sports bra that works well, it tends to be one that comes off with great difficulty. 

Another rite of passage that I feel honored to have experienced. Guess I’ll watch some more videos and read some tips and tricks, but I am will not give up my sports bra until the fire department has to pry it off my twisted and bent body!

Wearing Retrofete

Femulator and friend

Happiness Without Transitioning?

By Paula Gaikowski

As you may know, the transgender community is rife with politics and political correctness. 

Many years back, I was shopping at Vernon’s Boutique in Waltham, Massachusetts – truly a refuge for me at the time. For those who may not remember, Vernon’s was a store that accommodated the transgender community before Internet shopping. Here was a place you could buy wigs, size 12 shoes and women’s clothing without having to say it was a gift for your aunt. I was enamored by the selection of girly clothes. Anyway, I was looking at maid outfits and frilly sissy dresses, when a transgender woman I was chatting with started to criticize me for being a “fetishist crossdresser” and not a “true transexual” like herself. 

Another time I went to a transgender support group meeting in Denver. It was early in my going out and I was very fragile. I got all dressed up in my new business suit, nails, new shoes, good hair day and drove two hours through rush hour traffic to get there. 

It was a group therapy type set-up where we all sat in a circle and shared our thoughts and experiences. At one point I used the term transgendered instead of transgender and they condemned me calling me transphobic, and then criticizing me for the way I was dressed because I conformed to a patriarchal archetype of femininity. 

Both incidents hurt me, and I started to doubt that I was transgender and that my lifelong desire to be female and a woman was misplaced. If being transgender meant being like these persons maybe I wasn’t a “true transexual.”

A popular narrative in the transgender community is that “a transgender person must transition – that it is matter of life and death. If you don’t agree, then you are less than…”

So, if I am transgender, can I live a happy life if I don’t transition?

Being transgender is like having a pebble in your shoe. It takes away some of the joy, it causes some pain, however, there still is meaning and even happiness. 

For some, the pebble may cause too much pain, causes blisters and then an infection that becomes life-threatening. The pebble must be removed. In other words, the person must transition. Some of us just keep hiking with the pebble in our shoe, although we may opt for a cuter and prettier shoe.

Wearing Joie

Just another beautiful Femulator

Get Out!

By Paula Gaikowski

Back in the early 90’s, the “dark ages” before the internet, I found myself connected to a dial-up bulletin board service that supported crossdressers and transexuals. The umbrella term “transgender” had not yet entered the lexicon. What was special and different was the fact that you could download pictures of other girls. This was the first time that I could see and communicate with others like me.

I was awed by how pretty some of them looked and I also was captivated by the fact that they went out in public. The thought that it was possible to be out and seen in public as a woman became an aspiration. It would take years.

Often I’m asked for advice on getting out in public from first timers. It’s funny – I can’t really remember my actual first time, the first few times out all kind of melt together. 

I was spending time in Reston, Virginia, on business and was dressing up in my hotel room, as I had been for years. I started making short trips from the room to my car and then back. Mad dashes, full of fear, that took my breath away.

However, it broke the ice and the evolution began. I became less and less fearful each time I went out. By 2008, it was natural for me to be in public as a woman. I traveled all over the USA, UK, Canada and Australia for business and used this time to go out and about in the world. 

I dressed in business clothes and appeared slightly better dressed then most women. I feel it’s important to blend in, not stick out and to dress age-appropriate. I never thought that I could go to malls, get makeovers at MAC, visit the doctor, dine out, and enjoy museums. Over the years, I lost weight, improved my wardrobe and developed my makeup skills. I became very confident and happy with my presentation as a woman. 

Many girls are fearful of what the public will think and how they will react. I have many friends who have been going out and about for years and we have all had the same experiences and reactions.

People either don’t notice you or sometimes you pass and sometimes you don’t. And if you don’t pass, most people are fascinated and supportive. I’ve never had a person call me a name or insult me in anyway. I remember it became such a non-event that I would often look for a reaction or input from hotel clerks or sales associates. 

I enjoyed shocking them with the transformation, One time, I was checking in as Paul, and at Marriott where they always ask if you are in town for business or pleasure? I responded, “Both – this afternoon I’m meeting a friend and we’re going dress-shopping. She has a wedding to attend”.

“Oh, you’re such a good friend,” she responded, implying that dress-shopping is something that most men didn’t like.

I returned about 90 minutes later as Paula, grabbed a water and asked her to charge it room 410. She typed in the room number and then made the connection to the guy who had checked in.

“Well, how do I look?” I asked. She and the other young women with her responded very positively. They were kind, complementary and cheerful. This was typical of persons I’ve interacted with going out and about.

Going out reminded me of learning to drive a car. When you first get behind the wheel, you are thrilled, look at me, I’m finally driving. I drove to the store, to school, even to the beach! Your hands are tight on the wheel, each turn is a challenge, every intersection daunting. Eventually you get behind the wheel and drive without even thinking about it. 

So much of going out has become second nature to me now. I walk out the hotel room door, smile at the maid, stop at the front desk, etc., without trepidation or anxiety. This self-assurance is contagious to everyone around you. It validates your appearance to them. 

When I visit cosmetic counters, the sales associates seemed to love the diversion of having a transgender customer. We always have great conversations and I always ask them about my appearance. Most often the words I hear are “poised,” “natural” and “classic.”

They say 90% of presentation is attitude and confidence. This takes effort and work. This effort is all part of being a woman. Please remember to enjoy the journey, the practice, the friendships, the accomplishments and even the failures.

I’d love to hear about some of your first times out and about!

Source: WhoWhatWear

A tradition in Southern Germany and Austria, Faschingshochzeit is a “Mardi Gras wedding,” in which the gender roles are reversed with a male bride and female groom. (Thank you Yamini for the tip about Faschingshochzeit.)

How did you make out?

By Paula Gaikowski

Friday, Stana posted my article of memories, an archive of sort that chronicled my journey over the years dealing with this special gift that we have. One of those memories generated a request for more details about making out at a Halloween party when I was dressed as a girl.

This is something that for years I pushed down and away and didn’t want to remember or acknowledge. When I started dating and then married, I made it a point to consciously forget about it. Now at 63-years-old, years of therapy and self-acceptance, I can look back at the event with pleasant thoughts.

So, let’s go back in time to 1979, Hahn Air Base, Germany. A married couple from my workplace was having their big annual Halloween party at their house off base. We were a young crowd, older teens, 20’s, some 30’s, very much into partying. 

On the night shift, costumes were discussed and when boyfriends and husbands rejected the idea, I happily volunteered to go as a girl with just enough insincere resistance. At 19-years-old, I was a size 14-16 and could not wait to wear the Air Force blue skirt suit that women wore on duty.

If you know my story, I was no stranger to crossdressing at this age and really didn’t need any encouragement or help. One of my female co-workers was a happy helper and loaned a uniform. I made a covert trip to the Base BX to purchase bra, panties, pantyhose and a slip and to a German store in town, a red lipstick.

Over to Linda’s apartment the afternoon of the party to “get ready,” I remember feeling so proud that Linda was impressed with the proficiency and aptitude that I had in getting dressed in women’s clothes and putting on makeup. (I had spent years after school using my mom’s make-up and trying on her clothes.) 

As Femulations go, this was a good one. I liked the way I looked, considering my inexperience in dressing up fully to pass. 

The party itself was a raucous affair, ranging anywhere from 30-50 people. I had a great time, playing along with the innuendo and crude comments. I reveled in and relished the attention and felt so feminine. Now remember, this is Germany and the Mosel Valley, beer and wine! By midnight, those of us left were all very buzzed.

A small group had gathered down in the basement, a side room at the end of the evening. We were all chatting, laughing as the night wound down. Then it was quiet and I was alone with a guy who I had been talking to at different times throughout the night. We started talking about my costume, crossdressing, drag shows, and I remember specifically he asked me how it felt to wear pantyhose? My inhibitions thinned by alcohol, I replied “Great, Silky and smooth!” 

Two lustful and lascivious 19-year-olds, one ravenous for the feel of a woman, the other desiring to feel like a woman. Now alone in the dark, thousands of miles from home, both drunk. 

His hand skimmed my leg, soon it was up under my skirt. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered.

I was stunned, wanting to shriek and run, however, another part me wanted this, just a few seconds more I thought. He grabbed at my bra, I sighed, He pushed me backward and we’re lying down, a light kiss, then another, an embrace, this feels wonderful. Then as quickly as it started, it ends. I’m sitting alone and the night is ending. What just happened?

For years, I refused to think about that night buried away in the corners of my mind. I was young, confused and even ashamed of what happened. It has taken me years to accept and understand who I am. Now I take it out of that special hiding place, a treasured curio and share it with my sisters and community here at Femulate. 

Source: ShopBop

Another femulator out and about acclimating society to pretty men in pretty clothes.

Stolen Car

By Paula Gaikowski

I’m from New Jersey, and of course a big Bruce Springsteen fan. I remember friends coming home from trips “down the shore” and playing the 8-track tape “Greetings from Asbury Park.” I was hooked and continued to be to this day. 

The other night alone with my earbuds, a bottle of Chablis, and about 100 Bruce songs I sat out on the deck and listened alone with my thoughts.

Back in 2008 as many of you know from reading my posts, I came out of my shell and started going out in public as Paula. Business trips took me all over the country and world. I was able to experience so many of my dreams as a woman. I attended dinners, classes, concerts, I shopped and socialized. I was able to spend 3-day weekends living as a woman. I began therapy and was able to talk about and come to terms with my transgender nature.  A bad back in 2018 grounded me and then the pandemic grounded us all.

A little know Springsteen song “Stolen Car” resonated with me the other night. It’s about someone who’s stuck in life with an unsolvable problem.  If you’re brave enough, pour yourself a cold one, grab your earbuds, and I’ll let you peek inside my head. Click the title for a video to the song.

“Stolen Car”

I met a little girl and I settled down
In a little house out on the edge of town
We got married, and swore we'd never part
Then little by little we drifted from each other's hearts

(Getting married will make this all go away, it will cure me.)

At first I thought it was just restlessness
That would fade as time went by and our love grew deep
In the end it was something more I guess
That tore us apart and made us weep

(In the end it was something more, my being transgender that caused us pain)

And I'm driving a stolen car
Down on Eldridge Avenue
Each night I wait to get caught
But I never do

(I go out as a woman, everywhere, and I become purposely careless, I’m waiting to get caught, for drastic and seismic change, but it doesn’t happen)

And I'm driving a stolen car
On a pitch black night

(I’m stealing away as a woman, taking something, I want but they say I can’t have, I am isolated with my secret, in the pitch-black night.)

And I'm telling myself I'm gonna be alright

(Someday, I’ll be a woman I’ll be alright I tell myself)

But I ride by night and I travel in fear

(I do this all-in secret, metaphorically at night, and I live everyday fearing it’s going to come crashing down.)

That in this darkness I will disappear.

(“I” being Paula my true self will be lost)

Wearing Bebe

James Brown, Nigerian femulator

Leolines

By Paula Gaikowski

A friend recommended an online clothing retailer that specialized in clothes tailored for transgender men and women. I was immediately skeptical; I had visions of overpriced fetish wear and poorly designed clothes. However, I was pleasantly surprised and put them on my list of potential places to shop.

Leolines was started by Chris McKelvey a seamstress who sewed custom made dance and gymnastic costumes. One day, the parent of a transgender girl asked if she could make an outfit that would meet the needs of her transgender daughter. She was elated with the results and asked her if she could make underwear and swimsuits. The word soon spread in the transgender community and thus her business was born.

Leolines panties are designed to hide the more masculine parts of a femulator’s anatomy. The reviews I’ve read all stress how they changed the life of so many transgender women who could now have the confidence to wear leggings, jeans and bodycon dresses. They are also very comfortable and eliminate the need for gaffs, tight panties or Spanx. Along with all that, they are pretty.

As I wrote here, I have this whole tucking thing down to a science so why would I need something special and besides, for me there is a certain joie de vivre knowing that I am wearing clothes made for a female.

Here’s where it got interesting. My wife and I have DADT agreement going when it comes to my femulating. She runs hot and cold and there have been times over the years when she’s bought me clothes and also given me some of hers. 

A few years ago, I inherited two of her sport bras, which I took to wearing under sweaters in the wintertime. The other day she saw them in the wash. They were very worn and she remarked that I need some new ones. 

“Well, my birthday is coming up,” I joked. 

I never expected anything to come of it.

How she found Leolines on Esty I’ll never know, but I was surprised, elated and touched in the heart when I opened my gifts and found a Leolines Racer Back Bra and High Waist Panty, both in the Tinkerbell print. Tinkerbell is a playful name my wife has used over the years when referring to me and femulating. 

There was a lot in that gift: true love, acceptance and grace. I love wearing them under sweatshirts on cold days here in Maine. It’s my way of knowing deep down who I am. As you all can relate, it just feels right. 

About half of Leolines business is transgender children. The other is transgender adults and most of them are younger. The generation of transgender persons behind us are out and upcoming. They are consumers and the business world is rising to meet their demands. Moving out of their niches and into the mainstream are retailers like Bindle and Keep, who custom make suits for transgender men. I predict we are soon to see a transgender line of clothing by a mainstream vendor such as Victoria Secret, Maidenform, Spanx or Torrid.

Wearing Oscar De La Renta

Rob Harmon femulating in the 2008 film Between Love and Goodbye.

Bad News and Good News

By Paula Gaikowski

Last week, there was bad news for transgender persons and there was good news. 

First the good news, the House passed the Equality Act, a bill that would extend basic rights to the LGBTQ community. It just needs to get past the Senate with 60 votes where I am sure it’s in for a fight. Ironically the overwhelming majority of Americans are in favor of the law (many assume that LGBTQ already have these protections).

If you walk down the hallway in the Capitol, you will see the transgender flag proudly displayed in front of the office of Congresswoman Marie Newman. The congresswoman put it there in support of her 20-year-old transgender daughter.

Now for the bad news, Congresswoman Marjorie Greene reacted to the flag by posting a transphobic sign meant to appeal to people’s fears and prejudices in the culture war that the GOP stokes daily in their only hope of gaining the electorate.

The sign she posted reads, “There are only two genders, Trust the science.”

There are so many things wrong with that statement besides just being hurtful and hateful.

1. Gender is a social construct, not biological. Ironically, after denigrating science when it comes to climate change and the pandemic, Greene uses science as a tool, although incorrectly.

2. Greene probably was referring to biological sex. However, it is scientifically evident that intersex persons exist. A common argument amongst transphobic people is that you are either XX or XY chromosomed and that defines your sex and gender absolutely. Intersex persons are much more common than one would think. Here’s a list of famous intersexed persons.

3. Her statement that there are only two genders is also incorrect. Let us not forgot the non-binary members of our community. Our culture has predominately recognized two genders, male and female and that Ms. Greene, is where most of us transgender persons struggle. We struggle with being the wrong biological sex and along with our biology, we are assigned a social gender. Gender and sex are two different things and transgender persons struggle with both.

All of this illustrates how far we have come in the battle for transgender rights, but also how far we must go. When I think back to my 20’s, the idea that a congressperson would plant the transgender flag on Capitol Hill and be advocating for her transgender daughter was a distant dream. Add to it the fact that being transgender is no longer a tabloid curiosity, but common in all our communities. 

Wherever you are in your journey, whether closeted or transitioned, remember not to be afraid to advocate for our community. It’s time to speak up and defend transgender people by showing our support. We can object to rude jokes and stereotypes, correct persons misconceptions and support gay and transgender colleagues. We need to take a stand and show acceptance and support for transgender persons and make transphobic behavior socially unacceptable.

Wearing London Times

Mateusz Jakubiec femulated Lene Nystrøm Rasted (Aqua) on Polish television's Twoja Twarz Brzmi Znajomo.
You can view this femulation on YouTube.

Gal Friday

By Paula Gaikowski

“Gal Friday” is a female assistant, who is capable of many different types of tasks. Today, the term can be considered outdated and sexist. So today, “Gal Friday” is when on any given Friday, one becomes a gal. Let me tell you it was the latter and long overdue.

After a year without dressing fully, I had the house to myself for the next two weeks as my wife, with whom I have a DADT arrangement, flew south. She does give me time to get my girl on, but it’s hard to relax and enjoy when I know she’ll be home in two to three hours. There is also knowing that she just doesn’t like it and never will. There’s that implied sense of disapproval that hangs there unsaid, but is still evident. So two weeks of self-expression is just what the doctor ordered. (I actually wrote a column about that a few years back, “Doctor’s Orders.”)

I dropped her off at the airport on Thursday and stopped on the way home for a pedicure. The manicurist at the nail salon in small town Maine didn’t bat an eye when I asked her for a French pedicure. I told her I was transgender and wanted to look nice when I went out. I also did some outreach, told her my story and she shared that her friend has a transgender daughter.

I am amazed at the awareness and acceptance people have these days compared to 2008 when I first started going out. Back in 2008, I was given cold receptions at clothing shops and wig salons a few times. They made it clear, I wasn’t really welcomed. 

Sales associates now understand what it means to be transgender and are empathic. I haven’t had a bad experience since 2008 and the last few years, I feel as if we are now just part of the modern culture. 

The rest of Thursday was body maintenance day and fashion prep.

I got up Friday morning excited. I dressed in my favorite skirt and top, then put on makeup, perfume, fixed my hair and slipped into my favorite pair of pumps. I was filled with such positive emotions and energy. I felt 20 years younger.

Then I prepared for a busy days of Zoom meetings and reports. The day flew by. I stopped a few times to freshen my makeup and fix my hair. It was healing to see lipstick stains on my flowered coffee cup as I ran over the latest training plan for new products. I kept my camera off, but there was a part of me that just wanted to turn it on and say, “Hey there, world. This is who I am.” Maybe someday soon. 

The day ended too quickly. I stayed in my gal clothes, made dinner, had a glass of wine and with the snow falling outside, I lit a fire and drifted off dreaming of...

Wearing Wayf

Femulators