The first thing that happened was that I was invited by one of my new “girlfriends” from my Embodydance community to a Mary Kay™ Girl’s Night Out Party. I have been invited to other events where the theme centered around feminine energy but not one so widely recognized by women everywhere as special to her gender. In fact, among the women I have known for many years, I have never suspected that they might even be into this sort of thing. I am so well aware of the fact that girls have gone through the same kinds of humiliation of not being accepted in the “club” as I have been feeling over these months since my “coming out” and now I am feeling like that I have finally “arrived.”
While I feel honored by this invitation more than most of my male friends could possibly know, I also know that it did not just come out of the blue or that some sister was feeling sorry for me. I know that it is truly a heartfelt recognition that I belong to “the club” by my own say so. I already knew the woman who is the Mary Kay consultant for this event and was already on her mailing list and that could have helped contribute to my invitation, but yet, I really haven’t gotten to know the hostess that much on a purely personal level outside the Embodydance community and was quite surprised when she sent me this invitation for us to get to know each other better as friends.
The other development is that today, I finally called a therapist who I learned about months ago who was then organizing a transgender support group but, to which I could not commit because of another commitment equally important to my personal growth. I left a message on her voicemail to return my call and she did so within a fairly short time and we set up an appointment next week to look into an appropriate course of action to satisfy the recommended prerequisite psychiatric/psychological certification for my “gender affirmation surgery” under the WPATH or World Professional Association of Transgender Health guidelines recognized both here in the US and abroad, including Thailand, where I am considering as a possibility to undergo this irreversible medical procedure to confirm who I have wanted to be for so long.
It was interesting that the therapist was quite surprised that most of the people in her group are transgender women who began their transition after the age of fifty and that this sub-group of the transgender community has been growing at an unprecedented rate in the last decade or so. And while the adolescent GLBT sub-group has been receiving most of the attention in the media and therefore in the minds of people because of bullying and more important fact that the rate of increase of teen suicides within this sub-group of teens tragically ending their lives before they had a chance to begin, my sub-group of older adults going through transition remains relatively unnoticed by most observers of this growing phenomenon as well as the general public, thanks in part to the relative anonymity provided by the internet in getting vital information for those of us who have taken this bold step in the senior years of our lives. I can suppose that it is equally true that many younger people can’t yet grasp the fact that being “over the hill” doesn’t mean the same as being digitally challenged or, worse yet, computer illiterate, LOL!
By the way, as I spoke last week about how I looked forward to how I was going to pack for this short weekend getaway, I finally decided that I had no idea what I would want to wear and so I did what I saw as the usual girl thing and use a suitcase for my underwear, cosmetics, right shoes. wigs, etc. As I was looking for towels, I remembered I had two bags I had received for free for spending more than $30 at my local Beauty Club, into which I could put the items to which I might need access throughout the day. As for the rest of my hanging clothes, I simply grabbed a selection of capris, skirts, tops and dresses for a week and hung them on the hanging bar in the back seat of my car that I had used in a recent move. When I was unloading my car at the women’s dorm, one gal remarked with the question as to how many outfits did I think I would need, anyway. I just laughed and said “Well, all of them, of course.”