This is a story unlike any other I’ve done. Just one of those items that had to get out. Maybe we T-girls can’t have babies of our bodies, but we can give birth to stories. Anyhow, here it is.
I was nervous when I walked into the church that morning. My dress was smart, hat on neat, makeup correct. But it still felt like a dream.
Every year for the last 20 I had waited for this day. From my earliest memories I always wanted to be one of those ladies who got to show off on this day of all days. Easter Sunday was for hearing about how Jesus was resurrected and the miracle, but it was also for preening.
Oh, I know that pride is a sin, even more envy, but that didn’t seem to matter on this one day. On THIS day you could strut into the Sanctuary in a new dress, a new matching hat, pretty purse and everyone would look at you. Everyone would see how beautiful you were. The only thing that could come even close was a wedding.
Read more…
I was silent with shock for a bit. Millie didn’t say anything, much to her credit.
“How did you know?” I asked in a quiet voice.
Read more…
The next few days were drab and depressing. Those few hours I spent at the church and with Millie would be treasured forever. Each time I looked in my closet and saw the dress, I felt some part of me expand just a bit.
From looking at the dress, it was a short step to pulling it out and putting it on again. I couldn’t go to class in the dress, but at least I could study and do homework in it.
Read more…
Wednesday
All day I had been looking forward to the clothing drive. It was another one of those times when you anticipate something so long that just thinking about it makes your heart beat faster.
Once again I wanted things to be perfect, so when I got home I did my best to look good. I found a skirt that some co-ed had tossed into the trash. I felt like the lowest of the low, pulling used clothing out of the dumpster, but you have to make do when you don’t have a lot.
Read more…
I don’t know how many people come home with a brand new wardrobe after only a few hours of being out, but I ran into a problem that was new for me. I ran out of space in my single tiny closet.
I now had two full wardrobes to deal with, my Sam self’s clothes and now Samantha’s wardrobe. Integrating them was going to be interesting. I still didn’t know if I wanted to attend school as Sam or Samantha, and that was a question that needed to be answered soon.
Read more…
Samantha had a routine now. She would get up in the morning, put on light makeup, do her general grooming and get dressed in her he-self’s clothes for school. Sometimes she would substitute some of the girl’s jeans for the boy’s stuff figuring that no one would notice.
After class she would run errands, sometimes to the grocery store, sometimes to see if there were any insane deals at the Salvation Army Store or at Goodwill. She would occasionally come back with a dress, a skirt or a blouse. It depended really what she had the money for. She wouldn’t spend over $2.00 for the outfit, simply because she couldn’t spare the money from her account.
Read more…
Samantha’s Story part 1
