Having a night on my own in London, I wanted to go out presenting female and get some more “real life experience”. I had drinks and dinner with some colleagues early evening and to be honest had already had too much wine before I went out later by myself. This probably helped my confidence, although not my coordination with nail polish and mascara, which were a bit slapdash to say the least. I remember last year getting in a lift in the hotel in a dress ready to go out, and being self conscious of people staring at me. This time, didn’t give it a thought. Likewise going into the underground and being on the train with other people. I didn’t notice if anyone looked at me and nor did I care. I was just me being me and wearing a skirt didn’t feel like a Thing, I wasn’t conscious of my clothes at all. Similarly walking through a busy Soho to the bar, I just felt like I normally do walking around town. Got to She Soho. Amazingly the bouncer asked me for ID. I’m 51...
I’m just a boy who dreams of being a girl. These are my musings about that journey as I try to work out exactly what that means.