Foxglove
02-01-2013, 04:22 AM
Hi, Guys and Girls!
I went into town yesterday morning. I didn’t have much to do, just one urgent, little errand to see to. But while I was there, I took the opportunity to go into the supermarket to buy a mirror. This was a full-length job, something I’ve never owned before in my life. I’d never needed one, but of course I need one now, don’t I? What self-respecting T-girl can do without a full-length mirror, right?
I’d asked about it before. The people had told me they could deliver it to me. So I went back to buy it yesterday morning, and, looking around for help, I collared the manager of the place himself. I asked him if I needed to carry the thing all the way to the front of the store. I was wondering if it was necessary to carry it to the front, just for somebody to turn around and carry it all the way to the back so it could be put in the delivery van.
He said it was. But he also said, “It’s no problem. I’ll carry it for you.” And off he went with it.
I felt a bit silly. I could have carried it myself. But I would also have felt a bit awkward doing it. I was dressed in my usual manner—i.e., rather overdressed for a visit to the supermarket—and carrying a big mirror isn’t something a woman dressed like I was would normally do.
And anyway, those of us who’ve lived in the male world know that a man never minds carrying something for a woman. It makes him feel manly, makes him feel good about himself. So I let him go at it. And when we got to the register with it, immediately another lad arrived to carry it to where the items for delivery were held.
So the lads did the donkey work while we “ladies” dealt with the money and the delivery docket. The woman who was looking after me was a gorgeous young redhead—and do you think I haven’t cast an envious eye on her once or twice? (I have a thing for redheads. I’m not sure why.) She was really nice to me, lots of smiles, twice called me “Annabelle”—and as has happened to me several times over the last week or ten days, I had to work a bit to keep the tears from coming to my eyes. In these last three months out in the real world my emotions have been all over the place.
A lot of our members on this forum have had little moments like this—for me, beautiful, beautiful, painful moments. A while back I wrote a piece on why it’s beautiful to be trans. I still hold to that, but in the midst of the beauty, sometimes you feel the pain of being trans—the dilemma of your mongrel constitution that forces you to purchase, sometimes at great cost, those little moments that others might not even notice. Sometimes that dilemma hits you full in the pit of your stomach; sometimes when you suddenly, unexpectedly find yourself on the inside where it’s warm and dry, you remember all the years that you were on the outside where it’s cold and lonely—and then you have a hard time holding back the tears.
Of course I need to keep my feet on the ground here. We all know that a GG’s life isn’t a long string of nice little moments such as this one. But what GG’s and others in the cisworld can’t appreciate is all the little moments of our lives and what they mean to us. We’ve all experienced the dark side of being trans. It is truly nice to experience a bit of the bright side of it.
Best wishes, Annabelle
I went into town yesterday morning. I didn’t have much to do, just one urgent, little errand to see to. But while I was there, I took the opportunity to go into the supermarket to buy a mirror. This was a full-length job, something I’ve never owned before in my life. I’d never needed one, but of course I need one now, don’t I? What self-respecting T-girl can do without a full-length mirror, right?
I’d asked about it before. The people had told me they could deliver it to me. So I went back to buy it yesterday morning, and, looking around for help, I collared the manager of the place himself. I asked him if I needed to carry the thing all the way to the front of the store. I was wondering if it was necessary to carry it to the front, just for somebody to turn around and carry it all the way to the back so it could be put in the delivery van.
He said it was. But he also said, “It’s no problem. I’ll carry it for you.” And off he went with it.
I felt a bit silly. I could have carried it myself. But I would also have felt a bit awkward doing it. I was dressed in my usual manner—i.e., rather overdressed for a visit to the supermarket—and carrying a big mirror isn’t something a woman dressed like I was would normally do.
And anyway, those of us who’ve lived in the male world know that a man never minds carrying something for a woman. It makes him feel manly, makes him feel good about himself. So I let him go at it. And when we got to the register with it, immediately another lad arrived to carry it to where the items for delivery were held.
So the lads did the donkey work while we “ladies” dealt with the money and the delivery docket. The woman who was looking after me was a gorgeous young redhead—and do you think I haven’t cast an envious eye on her once or twice? (I have a thing for redheads. I’m not sure why.) She was really nice to me, lots of smiles, twice called me “Annabelle”—and as has happened to me several times over the last week or ten days, I had to work a bit to keep the tears from coming to my eyes. In these last three months out in the real world my emotions have been all over the place.
A lot of our members on this forum have had little moments like this—for me, beautiful, beautiful, painful moments. A while back I wrote a piece on why it’s beautiful to be trans. I still hold to that, but in the midst of the beauty, sometimes you feel the pain of being trans—the dilemma of your mongrel constitution that forces you to purchase, sometimes at great cost, those little moments that others might not even notice. Sometimes that dilemma hits you full in the pit of your stomach; sometimes when you suddenly, unexpectedly find yourself on the inside where it’s warm and dry, you remember all the years that you were on the outside where it’s cold and lonely—and then you have a hard time holding back the tears.
Of course I need to keep my feet on the ground here. We all know that a GG’s life isn’t a long string of nice little moments such as this one. But what GG’s and others in the cisworld can’t appreciate is all the little moments of our lives and what they mean to us. We’ve all experienced the dark side of being trans. It is truly nice to experience a bit of the bright side of it.
Best wishes, Annabelle