Non-descript boatneck tee from the women’s section at Kohl’s.
My son didn’t even notice anything different. I was taking him back to his Mom after a long weekend together. But it was different. It was the first time out of the house in all women’s clothes.
It barely even counts, honestly. It’s well past sundown, raining, and I wouldn’t even have to get out of the car when I got to the store parking lot where we meet, halfway between our respective houses.
But it kinda counted. Because I was out of the house in clothes I didn’t hate. I was out of the house in MY clothes. I was out of the house as me.
As an aside, I took my daily diuretic late today. Usually I take it mid-morning and it keeps me back and forth to the restroom for a good 4 hours. But, I planned for this. I went before I left. Easy-peasey. Until I got there. And I had to pee*. And I suddenly realized that I was about to have to cross a milestone I was NOT prepared to cross. I was on the phone with my rock in these matters. She assured me I wouldn’t get clocked. She assured me even if I did, no one is going to call me out on it.
But I didn’t believe that strongly enough. I didn’t think I had worked myself up to this. It’s too soon for this step (“They all seem too soon”, she said), yeah I might be getting better with makeup but I’m not wearing any and my shape isn’t fooling anyone, just no no no.
But I can’t go in the men’s room, either. Not like this. Not when I’m this close to being me.
So I held it. Until I got home. One milestone at a time, thankyouverymuch.
*(“It was less easy and more pee-sy” says my ever-present support. She’s silly.)