Two Months Post Transition

I apologize for cutting my blog short so abruptly. A recruiter called, and I needed to take the call.

My how time flies! It's hard to believe that tomorrow will mark the two-month anniversary of transitioning at work. My coworkers are still avoiding pronoun usage for the most part. My friend yesterday used a different tactic to correct her mistake immediately. She quickly claimed that she referred to the wrong referrent, "She. My mistake. Of course [male employee in previous reference, let's just say 'Bob'], didn't [X]. Sophie did. She..." I have to say that was an impressive recovery.

The dog watching is over. Debbie came back from Hawaii, and brought me a beautiful pink wrap with blue flowers on it, and a pink clip to hold it on. Because it's cool, it's the ideal thing to wear puttering around a hot apartment. I was wearing it as a shawl, when I heard someone say from the side, "It's 90 degrees outside, and she's wearing a blanket."

I turned to a smartly dressed older man and replied, "It's 90 degrees outside. In here the air conditioner works overtime."

After he chatted with the BA's he came to see, I asked my friend who he was. She gave me his name and told me he was one of our major customers. (She actually told me his role). I'm sure I was glowing a little bit from that.

Last night was the last in a series of Blues Swing dancing. We spent the first part of the class reiterating the routine we learned last week and learned a new routine off the swivels. It consisted of a Texas Tommy Turn, followed by an inside turn into a promenade, and a couple of different ways that the lead can pulse the promenade.

After lessons, I practiced making eye contact by waiting to catch a free lead's eye for just a couple of seconds and then sliding my eye off them in a gesture of mock humility, with a slight smile to my lips. My regulars picked up and danced with me, and one of my regular dance friends who hasn't ever asked me to the floor came over to dance with me as well, apologizing for taking so long in order to get a quick drink because of the heat. When Sgt Nick was dancing with me later, he commented, "Are you learning Salsa" and later, "Nice swingout."

"Really? Is that what that was?"

"That's what I was trying to get you to do the first time," he said referring to the first night I danced 5 months ago. "You've come a long way."

The routine of makeup in the morning is something I can't imagine myself not doing when going to work. I enjoy feeling pretty, yet professional in the office and just can't imagine de-transitioning to wearing slacks and no makeup--no eyeliner, shadow, foundation to cover the beard, or lipstick. To work? Ugh!

It's nice to hear the "How are you, Ma'am?" at the front gate and the "Have a good day, Miss Hawes," that follows after checking my ID.

The heat, while broken, is still somewhat intense, and someone asked me if I put my hair in a comb. That would be the ideal thing for the dance floor when the sweat starts to stream off my back, and cutting my hair back would be rather drastic. I'll get a cheap comb at WalMart next time I go to see the hairdresser to touch up my roots, and see if I can get her to show me how to put it up with a comb and be able to do it myself.

I can see why a lot of people seem to disappear once they transition. It really has nothing to do with cutting connections to online friends. It has more to do with being more social, having more responsibilities and activities to do, because most of the fear is gone. One activity quite often leads to more activities until you have very little time left to keep in touch with the online community. Perhaps, that's why you've seen fewer and fewer of my blog entries. Instead of being relegated to spending so much time at home as Sophie, I have more venues open to me in my community.

But I don't see myself disappearing completely. I do so enjoy recapping my events and feelings and sharing them with others. It's therapeutic at the least, and helpful at the most. I do need solitude from the outside from time to time, and on those days, when nothing's going on except getting some more "me-time" (funny how the definition has changed), you'll find me taking notes.

Work calls and I need to respond.

Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie