I'm beginning to experience gender dysphoria *as* gender dysphoria.

I believe it has always been there, buried under other things. But, now that I've begun to open up to the girl inside, I am changing; and it's frustrating to not be out as a woman. I have moments when I'm irritable, even bitchy, and I have moments when I feel like climbing the walls. I want out; but I can't come out, not for the most part, anyway.

I am able to express myself somewhat, chiefly when I go walking or shopping at the mall. My ballet flats came in today, and I went to the mall to pick them up. I took my pocketbook in with me; this was the first time I'd done that. The salesgirl at the shoe store was not the same one that helped me make my purchase last week, and she seemed a trifle abrupt (I wonder why). Nevertheless, she was helpful when asked and even gave me a break; so, I can't complain.

Now, I'm just waiting for my bra. When it comes in, my outfit will be complete.

Except for the earrings I ordered yesterday! I ordered the greatest earrings. They were a little pricey, but too good to pass up. I knew that I wanted some dangly earrings with a French hook; and it occurred to me several days ago to look for butterflies, inasmuch as they symbolize transformation. I found them, and they're blue! Blue is, as you know, my color. I paid extra to have them expressed, so as to make sure I have them on time. I am apprehensive about taking the studs out of my ears – the last time they came out, I couldn't get them back in – but I really want to wear these to my appointment.

I've noticed that when I go to the mall I am identifying with the female imagery and the other women there in a way I didn't before. I am also constantly checking out what other women are wearing, to see if it's something that I might look good in.

I reached the 30-lb mark yesterday. I learned something very interesting this past week, concerning weight. I found ranges of proper weight for both men and women according to height and build. I'm not sure of my build, but I'm assuming it's medium, as opposed to small and large. Therefore, in order to figure out my target weight, I looked for the overlap between the proper weight for women and the proper weight for men; that way, if my weight falls within that overlap, my weight will be right for my genotype (male), and also for my presentation (female). It's a narrow range: 151-156. This is considerably lower than I had been aiming for, and it means that I've got nearly 90 lbs left to lose. I can't remember ever weighing that little as an adult.

I accidentally ran one of my camis through the dryer today. I thought I had washed only four, but I had washed five. It definitely shrank some, but it's still wearable. I love the spaghetti straps. There are different kinds of camis; but I knew I wanted spaghetti straps because they are so feminine. Having my shoulders bare beneath my shirt makes me feel so deliciously feminine!

I wish I had a necklace and a few rings to wear to my appointment. Maybe I'll go shopping for something early next week.

I did makeup again today. I’m going to have to practice every day now; but I think I’m going to enjoy it, because I was a lot better pleased with the result this time. I bought a lighter foundation, liquid this time, and applied it with a brush instead of my fingers. I also used a yellow concealer for my whisker shadow. I applied a little blush, but couldn’t see any difference; and I tried mascara again, very light. That’s going to be the hardest part of this, I can tell. Lastly, I applied a different lipstick.

My first thought after finishing this today was that it was obvious I was wearing makeup; and I regarded this as failure – not a disaster, like the first time, but a failure nonetheless. As it turned out, I was too quick to judge. I came back later and took another look in the mirror; and I was surprised to see myself more attractive than I can ever remember being. This time, I wasn’t standing close enough to the mirror to see the makeup as something separate and apart from simply me; and I was quite pleased with the effect. I felt pretty. I know; it sounds like a joke, right? I know I’m not pretty; but I am prettier. I could actually stand looking at my face without disgust.

I can’t wait until I get good at this. I can’t wait for facial feminization surgery. I can’t wait to put both together. The first surgeries I plan to get are facial feminization and voice feminization, and I hope to get them at the same time. Ideally, I will be able to wait to come out to the world until then, and begin to live presenting as a woman full-time. Until then, it is difficult for me to see myself through the eyes of others as more than a man in a dress, a caricature, a figure of fun, a laughingstock, a grotesque. How can I build relationships with others on a foundation like that?

Many transwomen learn to change the pitch of their voices by training. I don’t judge them for doing so, but that would seem forced to me. In addition, I would never be sure I wouldn’t forget, or lapse under stress. No, I want the surgery.

My gender therapist encouraged me to watch a film called “Normal” (2003), starring Jessica Lange and Tom Wilkinson. I bought the DVD when I bought the wig I plan to wear to my next meeting with the therapist, and I watched it this morning. Wilkinson plays a man who has always felt he was born in the wrong body, and whose stress over the matter has begun to affect his health. He tells his wife and pastor that he’s going to transition. This all takes place in a very rural, traditional community. Lange’s portrayal of the wife, who struggles with her husband’s revelation and subsequent transition is powerful; it *is* the film.

The transitioning husband came out to everyone, pretty much right off the bat. Perhaps he felt he had to; I’m glad I don’t. I don’t have anywhere near that kind of courage, or desperation. I do want to come out, but at the moment it isn’t in my best interests to do so. It may happen anyway, though. All it would take is someone I know seeing me looking at women’s clothing in a shop, or trying on ladies’ shoes.

I’ve lost more than 25 pounds since I started dieting, five weeks ago. I’m on my way. It’s time I got serious about skin care, something I’ve never paid any attention to. And I’ve been thinking about getting new glasses; my driver’s license must be renewed this year, and my eyes seem to be getting worse. When I do, if I can afford it, I’m thinking about getting two pair: one androgynous, one definitely feminine. That’s going to be more difficult than the average ladies’ purchase, if the saleswoman is not trans-friendly, because it’s going to require spending more time with her.

Until next time!

After several days with no money, I got paid. Thank Goddess.

At 7:30 this morning, I went to Walmart to pick up my outfit that I plan to wear to my next session with the gender therapist. Both the skirt and the top were between sizes; I wasn’t sure which size I needed. So, I took two of each garment, in neighboring sizes, to the fitting rooms. I asked the woman on duty if I could use one, told her how many garments I had, and she let me in. She didn’t give me a disapproving look or anything.

I found my sizes, then rehung the garments on their racks. I don’t remember why I did this. I know I didn’t have a grocery cart, and I know I was interested in finding a different top in the same series. Anyway, I rehung the garments, then found the top I wanted. I took the top, fetched the skirt, and then started looking for pantyhose. When I couldn’t find them, I went back to the saleswoman. For some reason, she now seemed a little strained. Something was freaking her out; I guess she had expected me to leave, and now wondered if I was planning to haunt the women’s department.

She showed me where the pantyhose were. I found the ones I wanted, then went looking for socks. I wanted ladies’ socks. My own socks were looking pretty ragged and needed to be replaced; and I’m gradually winnowing my wardrobe of boy clothes. I found what looked like some great socks and bought a six-pack. I then breezed through the cosmetics aisle and picked up a lighter and liquid foundation, some yellow concealer (for the beard), a brush for applying the foundation and another bottle of Revlon Red nail polish. Since I’m going to be painting my toes, I wanted to make sure I didn’t run out.

From there, it was home. Once there, I took out the top and hung it up. I then took out the skirt to hang it as well – and that’s when I discovered I didn’t have a skirt, but a pair of capri pants. They had been hanging on the same rack and were the same color and material.

It occurred to me that the error might have been fortuitous; so, I tried them on. Naaah! I wanted the skirt. This meant going back to Walmart. First, however, I wanted to see how the socks fit. They were brilliant! So, I gathered all the boy socks I have been wearing for who-knows-how-long and threw them in the trash. I then prepped the trash bag for the dumpster, planning to take it out in my way back to Walmart – that was when it occurred to me to check the wastebasket where I dump used kitty litter. It was full. So, into the trash bag went the kitty litter, again, on top of discarded boy clothes.

There is something special about that.

Back to Walmart. I took advantage of my return to pick up another six-pack of those excellent socks (which I was now wearing) and to get a twenty dollars in cash when I paid for my stuff with my debit card.

The stores at the mall were now about to open, and would be open once I got there; so, I headed for the mall, to visit the shoe store I had visited last week. They had the same style of shoe that I had found on-line and was planning to purchase, but in a size 12, not 13, which I thought I needed. Nevertheless, the salesgirl had suggested last week that I try on the size 12 to see if it might fit; so, that’s what I was going to do. I was able to get it on, but it wasn’t comfortable. I needed a size 13. The only remaining question was whether I needed a 13-regular or a 13-wide. I discussed it with the sales girl, but we couldn’t come to a consensus. So, I asked her if I could order both and return the one that didn’t fit; and she said that would work. So, that’s what I did. She was very nice; she gave me a 20% discount for ordering through the store rather than going on-line. That was extremely welcome.

Since I was at the mall, I decided to go back to Sears. In case you don’t know, Sears is in big, big trouble. I don’t know if they’re going to survive as a company. At the Sears store here, prices are slashed all over the place. On a previous visit, I had visited the purs...

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Another milestone today: I went into a ladies’ shop this morning and tried on my first dress.

Every day that I go walking at the mall, I pass by a store with a lovely dress-and-sweater combination in the window. I have stopped and stared at that ensemble more than once. The dress is dark blue – my color – and is simple; the sweater is more playful, serving to accessorize the dress. They look like something a middle-aged or older lady might wear, which is right up my line.

Today, the store was open; so, I went inside. When I found a saleslady, I asked her the largest size in which the dress was available. She found the rack; the largest they had was an XL, which I thought would be too small. As we were looking at it, I told her that I didn’t think it would fit me. (That’s becoming my standard not-so-subtle way of letting a salesperson know I’m shopping for myself.) She didn’t bat an eye; she asked me if I’d like to try it on. I told her I was afraid I might damage it; but she encouraged me, pointing out that it was a knit and would stretch. She also mentioned that the $119.00 item was 40% off.

Well, I couldn’t say No. I must say that, if this store’s dressing rooms are any example, men are being given short shrift in the clothing stores. I liked! Bright lights and a huge mirror. I admit I struggled with the dress, but I finally got it on. It was, in fact, too small; but in a couple of months, who knows? I’m losing weight like a champ; I’m highly motivated, after all.

When I had come into the store, she was the only woman there; but, when I came out of the dressing room, there was another woman behind the register. Before I left the store, I noticed her staring at me, using my peripheral vision; I wasn’t sure of her expression, but it didn’t feel friendly. I was dressed for exercise and a little sweaty; perhaps that was it.

These events are not exciting. They can be somewhat anxiety-provoking, because you never know how a salesperson is going to treat you once they know that you're shopping for yourself. But there is no thrill in "buying women's clothes," other than the satisfaction of having faced the challenge and overcome it. It has nearly become ordinary; it will be, soon. To think, I used to make such a big deal about this in my mind. I love shopping for pretty things for myself. Jewelry intimidates me, though; I don't know anything about it, yet.

Since I wrote yesterday, I found a laser technician; I start losing my facial hair next month. Things are going very well.

Well, here we are, five days after my last blog post. Where do I begin?

I’ve decided I don’t like my foundation. When I get paid later this week, I’m going to get some liquid foundation in a lighter color.

I’ve found the clothes I’m planning to wear to my next meeting with the gender therapist; I’m waiting until I get paid to go get them. I’ve lost 20 pounds since I started dieting four weeks ago. I may lose around eight more by the time I go to see her, but I’m thinking it won’t make that much of a difference in my skirt size.

I ordered my first bra! From my research, it seemed that I needed something a little harder to find than usually. Once I got the specifications down, I found the bra. I’m getting a 44C, which may be a bit of a stretch at my current weight; but I’ll find a way to squeeze into it. And I bought a set of inserts.

I also ordered a wig. Oh, it looks scrumptious in the pictures! And it’s blonde – I almost can’t believe it myself. I need a floppy hat and sunglasses to complete the ensemble, but I’m afraid they aren’t in the cards. My head is a little large for a ladies’ hat – they make them, but they’re pricey – and if I wear sunglasses I won’t be able to see (I am terribly near-sighted). It wouldn’t do to go crashing into my neighbors in the middle of the day the first time I leave my apartment in women’s wear.

Speaking of feet, I’m going to try to buy a pair of ballet flats, or something like. I may get socks, or I may buy a pair of tights. Leaning toward the tights. My legs are awful at the moment, and I would looove feeling tights next to my skin.

I’m using Revlon Red nail polish. I tried to find Revlon lipstick or lipgloss in the same color; and I finally did: in ENGLAND, also through Amazon. It wasn’t too expensive, but I don’t know if it will arrive in time for my appointment.

And guess what?

I just scheduled my first appointment with a hormone specialist to start hormone replacement therapy (HRT). It’s a month away, but soon I’ll have taken my first big step on the road to bliss. And breasts. And a more feminine presentation; estrogen does additional marvelous things.

I’m trying to find a good, honest laser hair removal technician in my area. So far, not much success. I want to stop shaving, permanently; and I don’t want to have to compensate with makeup for beard shadow.

Well, other than continuing to wear women’s underwear (panties, camis) and painting my lips with gloss when I go walking, I guess I’m still pretty much in stealth mode. I’m not out to any more people, though it’s never far from my mind. I believe I’m feminizing in my speech and manner, though it’s happening slowly and somewhat of its own accord. I prefer that, actually; but it’s so darned slow (girly sigh). I must be patient.