There was something liberating about saying “yes” when Stacy, a transitioned woman friend from our Crossport support group asked if anyone wanted to go dancing with her. On a peak of confidence, and feeling the comfort of being with the group of gurls at dinner in a public restaurant where she asked the question, I couldn’t resist. After months of occasional “socials” with my crossdressers’ support group, I was growing more comfortable with expressing my woman in public.
The venue where we went was familiar as was the band that played, which offered up some diversity to the crowd. Wearing a short, black, corduroy skirt, with purple leggings and a purple bojo top and ballet slippers, I boldly stepped from the car and began my sashay to the entrance.
Stacy wasn’t there yet, so I tried to find a spot that wouldn’t draw attention while texting her that “I’m out front.” True in more ways than one, lol. Stacy arrived and led the way into the concert hall, The Redmoor. At the entrance, the gentleman taking the cover charge seemed uninterested in my status and the other man looked away when I held his gaze.
As I walked through the lobby, it took on the surreal sensation of a movie camera being carried along, turning from side to side, from face to face, looking for the slightest reaction. I was an observer behind a mask, behind a cardboard cutout.
Stacy said, “Do you want to dance?” I looked back at the entrance and saw an actual coat rack, where I walked (as a lady) and hung up my coat, adjusted my purse across my body, took a deep breath, and then walked confidently back to Stacy, who asked, “Are you ready?”
That was a loaded question; NO! Yes! I don’t know!
Yet, I found myself following Stacy down the walkway, past patrons who seemed to notice us, and splitting through the packed dance floor to find a spot close to the stage. As self-conscious as I was, I couldn’t tell if people were clocking me or not.
I faced the stage because I didn’t want to look directly into anyone’s face; it became apparent that I didn’t “pass.” A group of women noticed me. Soon, each was tapped on the shoulder by a friend and directed to turn around and look at the crossdresser. I tried to maintain my composure and live my own life independent of their reactions.
Looking back as I write this, I am shocked I didn’t run from the Redmoor in an anxiety attack. For some reason, I was feeling my full Lorie, not in a defiant way, but more as that observer wanting to see what comes next.
A woman from the group decided to be the “daring one,” turning to dance with me, in her sexiest style. She was an attractive woman, engaging Lorie’s lesbian fantasies. I continued to dance with her, matching her moves, mirror like, which allowed me to feel Lorie without apology. This lovely woman eventually tired of the game after a couple songs. Their group’s attention towards us seemed to wear off. At first glance it felt as if they tended to ignore us, but not really. In reality, it felt as if they included us in the sisterhood, to a degree.
After several songs working up a dance sweat, Stacy and I walked up to the bar for a drink, finding chairs over to the side. Renee, one of the gurls from our group arrived. Stacy loves to take pictures when we’re out at social events, so she approached one of the men, who seemed uncomfortable by us and asked him to take our picture, lol.
A couple of women at the bar began a conversation with me. One asked me about her hair, what I thought of her hair extensions. It was an extended and animated conversation, one in which I was able entertain as my full, feminine self.
After they left, another woman came and asked if she could sit while waiting for her friend, who wasn’t ready to go home. We talked for a while, laughing at the fact that my name is Lorie, her name is Laurie. We slipped into conversation about the rainstorm, which led to churches, and then to a person we both knew at my church. She visits with said friend, which then led to a discussion about me speaking at my church in a couple weeks. She said she would come to see me, and I told her that she might not recognize me.
I guess my point is that I don’t know if she, or anyone there, talked to me because of the novelty, their curiosity, or their need to be the daring one, or if they had an attraction to me. I believe that I witnessed an element of kindness, acceptance, encouragement, and most of all, friendship from the majority of the women who saw and talked to me. It seemed as if the women were willing to honor my desire, and my attempt to be the woman that I am inside, that woman who was willing to risk the consequences, which might arise so that she could shine that night.
I have no delusions that I passed when dancing at the Redmoor. The amount of attention I received was nothing like I experience as a male. And yet, as I drove home that night feeling elated that I’d risen to the occasion, I was aware that kindness and sisterhood awaits me out in the real world.
For those who are saying, “I could never do that!” Let me tell you; even now my knees are shaking at the thought. I don’t know where my courage and vulnerability came from, but I do know that I’ve stretched my comfort zone, and it will continue to spread outward into that green, growth zone where my authentic self lies.
More Articles by LaWren Peace
- “SelfPartnered:” A New Way To See Myself
- Coming Out; My Favorite System
- Dating Girls as a Girl: What Is Different?
- I Wanted To Be The Girl In A Dress
- Can I ever be Enough?
LaWren Peace
Latest posts by LaWren Peace (see all)
- “SelfPartnered:” A New Way To See Myself - December 13, 2019
- Coming Out; My Favorite System - November 15, 2019
- Dating Girls as a Girl: What Is Different? - August 6, 2019
- I Wanted To Be The Girl In A Dress - June 27, 2019
- Can I ever be Enough? - June 2, 2019
I enjoyed your story very much, and appreciate the courage/bravery it took to express yourself.
I myself have only recently gone out in public again, and due to my age, it is getting harder to think I pass. But like you, I find when I don’t worry too much what others may think, I find it liberating and enjoyable to be out dressed. You mentioned your support group, and that is one area you are way ahead of me, as I have not sought out the support of others locally.
Lorie, Thanks for sharing your story! While I never danced in male mode, I did discover that Cyn loves to dance -especially to 80s music. The first time it took a fair amount of alcohol to bolster my courage but in later outings I was able to just get myself out there and have fun. It’s usually been at conferences like Esprit and Keystone where I ‘m not the only CD/TG person on the floor , but at Esprit at least it is out at the club in town. And like you I have found women willing to dance with… Read more »
A beautyfull story ,very encouraging
Lorie,
Thank you for this well written account of your night at the Redmoor. It must have been thrilling to be there as Lorie and to be part of all that excitement. I am excited for you. How much fun that would be. I can only imagine.
I look forward to reading more about your bold activities. I draw courage and hope from your words.
Choose joy!
Renee
Wow, Renee, it’s nice to hear your kind words, and I’m glad that my sharing is helpful to my sisters. It was exciting, and actually a bit surreal. Even now I look at it as if it was someone else, lol. I find that it’s all a bit of a roller coaster. Sometimes I am bold, sometimes I retreat. It’s hard to know when to “push" myself and when to honor my reticence. It’s not a race, it’s an adventure.
Hugs, Lorie
Awesome Story! I ‘m glad you had a good time, and I can’t wait for future stories.