I need to be touched to know I’m real

I have been really hard on myself today and I probably will wake up tomorrow feeling quite differently but, then again, that is exactly what has been happening to me all week.

Last night I went to dance and when I got there I headed straight for the ladies room where I sat on the commode for about ten minutes before I had the energy to go back out on the dance floor.  I found myself having to wait until I could hear no one else in the room and quickly rushed out, momentarily stopping at the sink to wet my hands a little and grab a paper towel then out the door to stand by the water fountain, like a wallflower at a Junior High Dance.

When I went out, I moved around the edge of the floor and took up all the space on the only couch, raising my knees up under my flowing skirt like so many of Kira’s girls, as I grabbed a pillow to clutch to my chest where I could try to hide the tears that flowed like rainwater on my cheeks.

As the clock moved on toward the end of the hour, a number of women came to my side.  one who performed a ritual healing, another who kissed my cheek and touched my face and another who simply held my hand for a time.  A very affectionate man who has watched me grow in my womanhood also came to my side but unfortunately his weight on me felt crushing and I reacted by screaming for him to get off me and pushing him away, I could see sadness in his eyes for his unintended hurt  which made me weep harder still until one more woman pressed her ear near my mouth where I could whisper in her ear to tell the man that I was sorry and it was not about him.

The woman who had been caressing my cheek came back again and a sudden burst of energy came upon me to a song which repeated the phrase “I’m Free.”  I signaled to her to help me off the couch and we danced on our toes threw our arms into the air and twirled our skirts in a joyous girly dance.  A very quiet unassuming man joined us as we all held hands in a circle as the music slowed down into a more meditative calmness until the end of the dance, when all the dancers would sit in a great circle for those to verbalize their experience of the dance after we had been dancing in this non-verbal sacred space for the last hour and three quarters.

It brought to mind a song I have heard sung in a church many years ago which alluded to the man called Jesus.

Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dancesaid he, And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I’ll lead you all in the Dance, said he.

I’m no longer a Christian and do not worship any, let alone Jesus, but “the dance” seems now to be my true savior.

Deanna Joy

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About Deanna Joy Hallmark

I am a post-op transgender woman who has now completed transition and living my life as the woman I was born to be. I have been writing my blog, now titled "A Spy in the Enemy Camp - A transgender woman’s perspective from having lived as a man among men" since December 2011. Originally a record of my process and feelings in transition, last summer in 2013 it took on observations from both sides of the gender binary and now will also be looking at my past life pretending to be the man I never was and how it finally brought me to where I am today, the beautiful intelligent woman I had always believed I should have been since I was little.
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