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22Michelle My experience so far is that I'm hammering on doors that are already open. Every time I take a step I discover that no one cares, or if they do that they are kind enough to keep it to themselves, of that they actively approve.
As usual the problems are internal; I just can't rid myself of the thought that one day some one important to me will stand up and say something like: "Enough's enough, you've got to stop this nonsense now!".
But I can't stop. What I thought was a harmless diversion in boring hotel rooms after intense days in workshops has turned out to be a long, slow, process of revealing myself to myself. I don't worry that I don't pass, but I did feel good yesterday when when I was addressed as madame. I'm quite confident that a second look would have revealed that I don't match the gender but it felt good nonetheless.
But what feels even better is that at every minute step out of the closet I feel a corresponding, and correspondingly minute, reduction in stress
But perversely I have now begun to feel mildly irritated that people don't remark on my presentation. Well a few people do but they are mostly not people close to me, just people passing in the street like the statuesque black girl in the centre of Swindon last year who shouted compliments to me from about five metres away.