Manasi
08-03-2019, 04:52 AM
Today, for the first time ever, I flew pretty — dressed completely as a girl, down to shoes and purse, but still using my male IDs.
The timing was perfect for this adventure. There is no passport control flying into London. I would be travelling alone, quite unusually. And, it’s Pride Week here in Cork, so people are more than normally aware of non-binary and genderfluid people. My IDs not matching my gender presentation would matter less.
I reached the airport and stood in the check-in queue. This was it, the first test. It being an international flight without passport control, the airline representatives would check all my IDs and documents here. If I were refused entry or boarding, that would be it — I had no plan B. I had no guy clothes ready, no makeup remover handy. I would have to go home to do all that, and I would miss my flight. I reached the desk and...
Nothing. So far, it has been a complete non-issue. Check-in was a breeze, so was security. Neither the airline agents nor the security personnel even so much as blinked. I was called “love” by the guy behind the security screening, and that for me meant I had passed. I stayed in the boarding lounge sipping coffee, and then boarded the plane. Deplaning was just as uneventful. From Heathrow, I took an express to Paddington and a Black Cab to my hotel in Westminster, the whole thing very routine. Checking in at the hotel was fun, I got “ma’am”-ed several times.
- Manasi
The timing was perfect for this adventure. There is no passport control flying into London. I would be travelling alone, quite unusually. And, it’s Pride Week here in Cork, so people are more than normally aware of non-binary and genderfluid people. My IDs not matching my gender presentation would matter less.
I reached the airport and stood in the check-in queue. This was it, the first test. It being an international flight without passport control, the airline representatives would check all my IDs and documents here. If I were refused entry or boarding, that would be it — I had no plan B. I had no guy clothes ready, no makeup remover handy. I would have to go home to do all that, and I would miss my flight. I reached the desk and...
Nothing. So far, it has been a complete non-issue. Check-in was a breeze, so was security. Neither the airline agents nor the security personnel even so much as blinked. I was called “love” by the guy behind the security screening, and that for me meant I had passed. I stayed in the boarding lounge sipping coffee, and then boarded the plane. Deplaning was just as uneventful. From Heathrow, I took an express to Paddington and a Black Cab to my hotel in Westminster, the whole thing very routine. Checking in at the hotel was fun, I got “ma’am”-ed several times.
- Manasi