While I’m jogging down memory lane…
Do you remember your first support group meeting? Oy! Mine was nerve wracking. I don’t know why I didn’t just give up and stay home
It was July of 1993. I was living in Lincoln, Nebraska with my girlfriend. The support group was the RCGA, based in Omaha. They met on the first Saturday of every month.
My girlfriend and I had driven to western Kansas on Friday morning, to see her parents. We drove back Saturday morning, and got home in the afternoon. There’s not much to do but think as you’re driving across Kansas, and by the time we arrived home, tired & sweaty, I convinced myself that no matter how exhausted I was, I needed to get to that meeting.
She said fine, but she wasn’t going. She needed sleep. So, as she dozed, I got ready. Short skirt, garters, high heels, big hair. You’d have thought I was going streetwalking. But with makeup help from her, I was ready. She looked out the door to make sure there was no-one outside, and I made a run for the car.
As I got in, I realized there wasn’t enough gas to make it to Omaha and back. So, I ran back in, and convinced this poor woman, my long-suffering girlfriend, to go with me to a gas station and fill up the car, while I sat inside, hunched over so no-one would see me.
Okay, no problem. With that done, I dropped her off and started on my way out of town. Being nervous, I reached over to the passenger seat to get a cigarette out of my purse.
Only, it wasn’t there.
The pack of cigarettes wasn’t there. And neither was my purse.
So, I found an empty parking lot, got out, and searched the car, thinking it had fallen in the back seat or beneath the front seat. (And gave some passing drivers more of a view than I think any of them would have cared to see.) But still no purse. With no purse, no cigarettes, no money and no driver’s license, I gave in. My excursion wasn’t to be, so I drove home.
And arriving in the parking lot, what do I find? Miraculously, there’s my purse. Untouched! How it fell out, I don’t know, but I’m not one to look gift horses in the mouth.
The drive was mostly uneventful, and the meeting itself is a blur. I seem to remember a room full of people, not talking much. But feeling fine about it. It was weird, yet satisfying.
Was this the most disastrous first support group meeting? Can anyone top it?
Granted, not everyone has been to a support group meeting, but if nothing else, I hope this little tale illustrates that yes, it can be scary, but it’s worth the effort.
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Ronnie Rho has been writing for Transgender Forum since May of 1999. One of these days, she'll get it right. She's been described as the "world's most famous recluse," but only by people who don't know her very well. She is unmarried, and lives in Cincinnati.Subscribe
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When i was ten years old i just luv dressing up as a girl from then on that’s all i ever thought about is being a girl today i only wear ladies clothes, high heels, and wear nylon stockings , and carry a purse i am thinking about having gender reassignment surgery done hopefully that dream will come true so i can look in a mirror and see myself as a woman not as a man that will be dream come true, and wishes thanks 4 reading this e-mail.
When i was ten years old i just luv dressing up as a girl from then on that’s all i ever thought about is being a girl today i only wear ladies clothes, high heels, and wear nylon stockings , and carry a purse i am thinking about having gender reassignment surgery done hopefully that dream will come true so i can look in a mirror and see myself as a woman not as a man that will be dream come true, and wishes i want to picture myself as a woman thanks 4 reading this.
When i was ten years old i just luv dressing up as a girl from then on that’s all i ever thought about is being a girl today i only wear ladies clothes, high heels, and wear nylon stockings , and carry a purse i am thinking about having gender reassignment surgery don hpefully that dream will come true so i can look in a mirror and see myself as a woman not as a man.
My first support group meeting was in Seattle in the early ’80s. I’d made contact by phone and was invited to the meeting in a nice restaurant by the Seattle Center. I didn’t know these people at all but was determined to give this a go. I dressed, drove downtown and found the place, had to park a block away and thus hike in heels to the restaurant, then entered only to find it full of people who certainly didn’t look like TG folk. The waiter approached and asked if I had a reservation, to which I replied that I was invited to a group meeting and must be in the wrong place. He smiled and asked me to follow him. He walked me completely through the crowded room and up the back stairs to a private dining room. By now I was terrifed. He opened the door and I knew that I was in the right place. Actually the restaurant had an outside stairway for this dining room but I didn’t know about that. Inadvertantly I’d just made my public debut in high style and apparently passed fairly well. At least the waiter said that I looked great.
Fortunately I’d worn a nice tailored business suit and jacket which made me look rather dowdy compared with some of the other attendees but it didn’t attract attention. Traveling through the downstairs dining area I hadn’t noticed anyone staring at me so I guess I did well. But I sure had a couple of anxious moments after I entered the restaurant.
1st support Group Denver 1978 I think I went in drab it was at the GLTB ctr. There were 4 or 5 of us there and all were dressed except for me Since Iwent in drab it was really a no big deal getting there but going into the room was kind of scary. What if my boss was there?
I was so thrilled and so buzzed to meet others like myself who liked to wear womens cloths They were the best people in the world.
I think my 1st time out in drag was a scarrier thrill I drove from Southern Mass. to Boston 60 miles to a drag bar and actually went in. One the queens asked me to be in the parade at the end of the evening I declined. Then I had to drive back home but I had to stop and get gas There were attendants then. It scary the gas jockey had to tell me to shut the car off. The whole evening is a blur now but it sure made for an exciting event then. I actually went out What a kick. It still is…Sallee