I'm not sure what the purpose of this thread is besides reminding myself in days to come that this was the point where I resolved to start being myself to the outside world again for the first time in years.
I've spent most of the last year dressed fulltime but I've chickened out when it came to going outside (easy when you're not working, but it's not exactly real life). Today I dug out my wigs and make-up and decided that it's high time I inflicted myself upon the world.
Initial impressions in the mirror suggest that I've not got a clue about make-up but a visit to Boots ought to resolve that (I intend to do this en-femme). It's going to take a while to get used to wearing a wig again but out of my four wigs I've settled on one that's a rough apporoximation of passable. Why on earth did I let myself be persuaded that the other three suited me (wig saleswomen can be very persuasive and flattering, if not wholly honest)?
Soooo, maybe not today, but in the next couple of days it'll happen, Claire will go outside for the first time in over ten years and probably for the first time in daylight. If I don't do this a) I'll be a wuss and b) I'll probably burst a vital organ. If I'm honest, I've had enough of worrying about other people's views and it's time to be me.
I know I'll never be passable, I'm too big and too masculine, but all I really want is not to be laughed at whilst being myself. I'm sure that some of you will understand that.
Claire.
Edit -
Well my resolve to inflict myself on the outside world was stronger than I thought. I've just had a 20 minute walk around the block, the first time outide en-femme in a long time. Yes, it's the middle of the night, but small steps first. I must get better fitting boots but it felt, well, it felt natural, it felt ME, but my feet hurt.