1943 women shopping montgomery al

I’m almost there! I’ve set up the Amazon gift cards that are set to be delivered on Christmas Eve, mailed the paper Christmas/holiday cards to all sorts of people several days ago, and prepared and even in a few cases already handed over gifts.

Today I will cook something that I plan to put in a nice package and present to a friend. Not telling you what it is! I’ve been giving people baked goods as presents.

Yesterday I was in the men’s clothing department in a large, rather high-end department store trying to decide on one of my last gifts.

If you are a transgender woman on the other side of transition, that is an odd place to find yourself. I used to hate hate hate being forced to buy male clothing. It made my skin crawl. It made me sad.

Those clothes felt like a prison uniform. When well-meaning friends and family would give me masculine clothing, I always tried hard to sound thrilled and appreciative, but I was dying inside because those gifts were symbolic of how hopelessly trapped I felt in an identity and life that wasn’t me, and that I hated so much that I wanted to end it.

So now I have moved to a much better universe where I get to be me!

Yesterday I was just one of the many women in that men’s department buy shopping for gifts for the men in their lives.

Being that–being me, just a woman among other women–felt completely comfortable. It felt right. Religious bigots will never accept this, but it felt normal, the way my life should have been all along.

I was finally home!

So the male clothing that surrounded me didn’t make me sad. It didn’t make me think about dying. Instead of seeing those clothes as a reminder of how wretchedly out of place and utterly miserable I was, they had become a means to give someone else pleasure.

Happy Holidays!

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