From when I wake up in the morning to when I go to bed at night, and often in my dreams, I am aware that I am trans.

Growing up trans wasn’t easy. Growing up trans during the late "60s 70s and 80s" was even less so.

      My life was no different. I went through phases of acquiring clothes and makeup and then, feeling utterly disgusted with myself, binning those items and promising myself I’d never do it again. But of course, that didn’t work and invariably I found myself acquiring female clothes again. This purging and acquiring went on for years and it pains me now to think of all the money I wasted essentially denying who I was.

  And then the time came where dressing up in secret was no longer enough. I couldn’t stay cooped up any longer. I need to be me and I needed to be able to step outside. That usually involve late night excursions: sneaking out under the cover of darkness, the logic being that there will be fewer people around, without thinking that this was perhaps even more dangerous. A woman, on her own, late at night. And yet, somehow, I survived all that without any incident. And then came the day when I went outside in daylight for the first time.

I paused before the door. My palms were sweaty and my heart was hammering inside my chest like a caged bird trying to escape. I’ve checked, double checked and triple checked myself in the mirror from every possible angle. My makeup, my clothes, my wig was fine. Over time I actually started looking like an ordinary woman going about town. My feeling that no-one will know.

I checked, double checked, triple checked that I haven’t forgotten my room key. The last thing I needed was end up stuck outside of my motel room without my key. Finally, with a deep breath, I opened the door and step out onto the street.

 I started walking toward my vehicle parked in the parking lot of the motel I began utilizing for my outings.

Adrenaline courses through my system and I'm extra aware of everything going on around me.   I started relaxing the more I dressed openly as I continued going on outings and taking long walks... A man comes towards me. Oh Jesus. What if he realizes? He must know I’m a fraud. He can see right through me.

But he walks right past me.           

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t acknowledge me. I'm just  another stranger to him. A woman out and about doing her business, like countless other women.

I started to relax but I still scanned every face coming towards me looking for negative reactions and a realization that I'm a fake and a fraud and that I don’t deserve to walk the same streets as everyone else. I brace myself for the inevitable shout of “Tranny!” or “Man in a dress” but it doesn’t come.

I survived my first outings.

Several these I outings had been less successful but it all helps me to develop a thick skin.

When you’re trans, a thick skin comes with the territory!!!.  

 Even now, with my living openly as a woman, I still pause and take a breath before walking out the door. I usually don’t even realize I’m doing it but when I’m being mindful I catch myself doing it.

I wryly smile and tell myself not be so silly, but it’s there and it probably always will be.

Even now, I still pause and take a breath before walking out the door. I usually don’t even realize I’m doing it but when I’m being mindful I catch myself doing it. I wryly smile and tell myself not be so silly, but it’s there and it probably always will be.

But I’ve learned to overrule my brain. I am a trans woman and I’ve learned to accept that. It’s taken me a long time but years of social conditioning will always give me moments of doubt. I mentioned this to a friend of mine recently, a cisgender woman, and she said that sometimes she feels something similar, not feminine enough, and that what she does to counteract this is wear a favorite perfume or a pair of heels that help restore a balance of femininity.

Wise words.

Trisha Roberts