What will the neighbours say?

Anyone over a certain age who was raised in the UK may remember the BBC programme Listen with Mother. Each episode began with the same calming phrase: ‘Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin.’

So … are you sitting comfortably? I’m going to tell you a story. It’s a story about how, as I’ve become more and more at ease with who I am, I’ve found myself changing. It’s also a story about how, sometimes, we can let our fears build up to the point where they prevent us from living our lives in the way we want to.

Before I start, I need to fill you in on a little background. For three weeks this autumn, I was lucky enough to have my very good friend Liz K from California staying with me at my home in Norfolk. Before her arrival, the only ‘official’ time that I’d spent outside fully dressed was during a makeover in late July. Liz’s visit would be a chance for me to try and push things further. We had two makeovers planned, as well as multiple opportunities for me to get out and about in the real world as ‘full Ellie’. These included an evening at Pink Punters in Milton Keynes, two days in Leeds for a Leeds First Friday event and even a theatre trip to London.

Although all of these adventures were planned for September and October, I started mapping out the details much, much earlier than that. The long lead-in time gave me ample opportunity to reflect on how the events I was planning for my future self compared with how present-day Ellie was living her life.

Since I’m single and live alone, I’ve been able to dress full time at home for many years. And yet, for much of that time, if I’ve had to go outside (to put the bins out say, or walk up the back garden to add some vegetable peelings to the compost heap) I’d hastily pull some baggy track suit bottoms and a fleece over what I was wearing, before venturing out. I’d always been worried that I was going to get seen, and then people would begin to think the worst of me. That fear had built and then solidified over time.

However, after my makeover experience it was obvious that something had changed in my mindset. Increasingly, I found that I was no longer bothering to cover up what I was wearing when I went outside. Instead I’d find myself striding confidently down the front path in a skirt and blouse, dragging the bin behind me. I was no longer concerned about answering the door to an Amazon delivery driver while wearing glittery nail varnish and yoga pants. I decided that maybe, just maybe, it might be time to bite the bullet.

Perhaps, as daunting as it seemed, it was time to let the neighbours know.

Well, one neighbour at least. The couple to the left of me … okay, the less said about them the better. However, the lady on the right was a very different matter. I’d always got on well with her; I had a gut feeling that receiving the news that there was a crossdresser living next door might not entirely freak her out. Besides, her upstairs window overlooks my back garden. I was really tired of feeling that I had to constantly skulk and hide. The thought of confessing to her tied my stomach in knots, but at the same time … why shouldn’t I be able to walk around in my own back garden wearing whatever I wanted to? I agonised about it for a couple of days, but then I thought … get a grip, Ellie. Let’s do this.

Having talked myself into a decision, I sat down and spent almost two hours drafting a letter. I wanted to get the words exactly right. After all, I reasoned, I probably only had one shot at this. I discarded several attempts before I had something that I was happy with.

Now, all of this isn’t as brave as it seems, because I’ve left out one important detail. On the day that I planned to take that letter round, I was confident that my neighbour wouldn’t actually be at home.  When I’d bumped into her the day before, she’d said that she was planning to take her dog to the beach. Here was my chance! I could sneak up her drive; I could put the envelope in her letter box without having to get involved with any personal interaction at all. Then I could run! There would be no need for any awkward conversations. No need for stomach-churning apprehension, or stammered explanations. The whole thing seemed ideal. I set off confidently, letter in hand.

As I approached my neighbour’s house, a dog started barking.

Hold on, that couldn’t be right. Wasn’t that dog supposed to be at the beach? It seemed that my neighbour’s plans had changed. Damn it.

I considered fleeing, but I hesitated just a little too long. Next moment, my neighbour was waving to me from an upstairs window and saying that she’d be right down. I was trapped. I stood there, clutching the envelope tightly, with no possibility of retreat. Oh God! My knees felt weak. What if, after all, I’d completely misjudged this?

As soon as she opened the door my neighbour did a bit of a double take, looking first at my worried expression, and then at the envelope that I was clutching in my increasingly sweaty hand.

‘Whatever’s the matter?’, she said.

I muttered something unconvincing about everything being okay, then held up the letter awkwardly.  ‘Perhaps you should read this’, I said.

She studied my face carefully and pushed her glasses further up her nose. Then she opened the envelope, unfolded the letter and began to read.

‘Dear xxx

‘This letter is a bit difficult for me to write, but I feel that it’s important for me to share something significant about myself. I thought about telling you directly when I bumped into you yesterday but it didn’t seem like the right time.

‘I’ll come straight out with it – I’m transgender.’

Now, I’d obviously written a whole lot more than that, but I think that this was roughly the point at which she must have stopped. She took her glasses back off.

‘Thank you for bringing this round’ she said. ‘But I’m not going to read any more.’

She looked me straight in the eye. My heart was thumping.

‘You didn’t have to do this’, she said.

She folded the letter carefully and put it back into the envelope. I have to be honest. I can’t remember exactly what she said next; it caught me somewhat off guard. As a result it’s a bit of a blur. But it was something along these lines:

‘No-one should ever have to explain or apologise for who they are.’

Although I can’t recall the exact words, I can remember the warm smile that accompanied them.

‘Just be who you are and let the rest of the world mind its own business.’

She paused, and thought for a moment, considering her words carefully. ‘I was once asked,’ she said, ‘what would make me happy. Well, I thought about that for a while. And you know what? The thing that would make me happiest is seeing everyone else happy.’

She gave me a hug and then handed my letter back to me.

‘Be you,’ she said. ‘Be happy.’

I have to confess that I had a little cry when I got back indoors.

Sometimes, as I said earlier, we let our fears get the better of us. And sometimes, when we face them, we have the power to make them go away.

More Articles by Ellie Davis

• First night out … pretty in Pinks
• The Reimagining of Ellie Davis
• A Crossdresser’s Reading List

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