Happy Together

A lot has happened this past week.

I have been out not once, but TWICE. Two bonus Sophie times! The first was to celebrate the first birthday of a Dear Friend (Hi Lisa!), then to Angela’s Laptop Lounge. The second was a ninja covert trip to Tavern on Camac in Philly, where Monday Night T-Girls used to be held.

Both times I met up with fellow trans-people and had a great time. So I’ve come to the following conclusion:

 Dressing Alone Sucks.

Allow me define my terms here. By dressing alone, I mean become Myself and stay home and see no one. I used to dress alone when I was younger. I still do occasionally. But having BEEN out, I find it far more satisfying to be with people like me.

People who understand.

I know there are some reading this who have never been out. This is in no way an indictment of you. For some, going out simply is NOT an option. The risks of discovery are too heavy to bear. They could lose marriages, family — lives crushed.

But for some, it’s simply a matter of courage.

And it takes a LOT. I know.

That first step out the door. . . where someone can see you. It’s one of the hardest things we do in our lives.

And you know what? One of the most gratifying.

I had it “easy.” My “first time out” was on Halloween. Oh ha ha look at that guy in a skirt. Was I scared? Absolutely. My next time out was that December. And that one was for real. And without makeup. I was so very scared. However, that night the ladies of Renaissance made me feel so welcome. I made some friends that night. I don’t use the term lightly.

The scariest time? Oh that’s easy. When I went to the first Keystone Conference. Leaving the hotel room that first time was SO scary. I stared at the door knob for several minutes, wondering if I could do it. Finally, I summoned the courage by saying to myself “These people don’t know me. They can’t hurt me. The worst that can happen is that I make an ass of myself, and I do that daily anyway.”

And I opened the door, where I came face to face with a hotel cleaning woman. Who wouldn’t leave me alone until I signed a paper saying I didn’t need my room cleaned.

She

Followed

Me

Down

The

Hall!

I went straight to the bar from there. Didn’t pass Go or Collect $200.

Ask around at any gathering of T-Girls, or on any of the chat rooms. We all have “first time” jitters . . . and stories. Some better than others.

But the result of that moment of fear is knowing people like yourself. I met people to whom I didn’t have to explain myself or hide my truth. They Knew. And they Accepted. And some even Helped.

I will always be grateful.

Looking at my life now, many of my old friends have fallen away. They’ve moved, have families, jobs, lives, or have died. My work friends: same thing. The group I’m closest to now is my friends who know me as a woman named Sophie — my true self.
I live to see them when I can, and share in their lives. We talk online as well. Some on the phone. Others know my drab side as well, and visit me at one of my jobs. I proudly proclaim them friends, sometimes to the amusement of my coworkers.

Because they ARE my friends.

And I wouldn’t know them if I never set foot out the door.

So this is why I say Dressing Alone Sucks. Because being Alone sucks. And being who we are can suck.

But being who We are, Together, Does Not.

Tags: closeted, featured, opinion

Category: Transgender Body & Soul, Transgender Opinion