As most of you know, going out in public is one of the joys of dressing. At first, I was very nervous and cautious, and my excursions were short, at best, and usually confined to just driving around town, Finally, I began going to various support groups and clubs where the comments were always positive. I was told I was passable and pretty. It was the feedback I wanted so I felt ready to explore a woman’s world freely.
After making many trips to my mirror, checking my outfit, hair, and makeup multiple times, I decided I was ready. I chose a downtown store I was familiar with and headed for the escalator confident that I belonged. A little more than halfway up, I noticed a group of young male teenagers escalating down. As they passed me, I heard one of them say, “That’s a guy!” Being pretty sure they meant me I was petrified with fear. Obviously, I wasn’t passable at all! I stepped off the escalator, looked back, and sure enough, the boys were headed back up.
Thankfully, the lingerie department was directly ahead. I dashed in, hoping this realm of total femininity might be just where I needed to be. I peeked around the corner and saw them rush by, and when they kept on going, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was hoping these young toughs would be too scared to enter this sacred female paradise. I scurried back down the escalator and out the door, both scared and distraught.
Back safely in my car, I wondered where I went wrong. Then it dawned on me that all those approvals I’d gotten at the groups and clubs were not, for the most part, as sincere as I thought they were. Their support was given as exactly that, support, and perhaps not as justified and meaningful compliments. I don’t begrudge any of them. When I think back on it, everyone received the same sort of attention. We all want to hear that we look nice, pretty, and feminine, but the reality is that very few of us truly are.
Arriving back home, I stood in front of the mirror in my attempt to see what those boys saw. How did they know? What I noticed at that time was a cheap wig that I was wearing, how my makeup was probably way too garish, and that my posture resembled a football player more than a princess.
Since that horrible escalator experience, I resigned myself to improve in all phases of femininity. I grew my hair out and learned how to style it in a feminine style. I tried many makeup tips until I wasn’t clownish any longer, and I learned to walk, move, and talk as a proper woman would. I pass very well now and have not had any incidences since. Now, I visit not only the lingerie department to buy all sorts of lovely things instead of hiding, I also feel free to try on shoes, and to use the dressing rooms to try on lovely dresses and tops. Basically, I enjoy shopping as any woman would instead of having to hide from mean people.
A lesson learned!