|And here I am. I am rubbish at asking|
others to take my photo, I wanted to, but
I did not. So here I am at the end of the
evening instead in an appalling selfie.
Oh, and old not smartwatch ahoy!
|I really like this look. I did at|
the time too. But now? Now I know
why I never fancied Carrie-Anne Moss,
I just thought her style might look good
Oh, tonight I'm in my blue jeggings, butterfly t-shirt and I feel amazing. When I got back from the support group last night I very nearly went for a walk because the temperature was forgiving and I felt so at home dressed as I was. I had some of my students say that I was wearing more colourful clothing this year (I am not) and it really buoyed me up because it just proves that observation that I appear happier and more comfortable with myself. Next, honestly, is deciding whether or not I want to try for Carrie-Anne Moss's hairstyle from the Matrix films when I get my hair trimmed in half term (end of October). I mentioned this last night and one of the kind souls there present looked at me, considered, and then said they could totally see it on me. I won't lie and say I wasn't flattered. I still thing it was a well-meaning lie, but now that seed has been planted and we'll just have to see what happens now.
|Luckily, FaceApp is on hand to deal|
with the close-up, Mister Demille.
One thing was very clear today, though, as I drove home and ruminated on the events of the week past: I really would like to not have my beard or facial hair. Like, ever again, I cannot imagine a situation where I would willingly and without qualm go back to having my beard. Having had one for the best part of 21 years this was something of a surprise but not entirely unexpected. When I am inevitably asked what I hope to gain from any potential transition, I guess this is the first honest-to-god physical change and source of dysphoria. Just spotting on the full photo above that I have such dark stubble made me pause. And I wasn't expecting that. In the end, I just want to feel like I did on Thursday night, when I got home, more often. I want to be able to actually go for that bloody walk, but in the daylight and with no stubble and a feminine haircut so that I can code 'woman' enough not to instantly get beaten up on the way out. And, for the first time, I'm wondering if I might be looking at a potential future rather than a ridiculous and fantastical vivid dream just before I awaken.