For once I had two titles for a post, the one “Alea iacta est……” or the “King is Dead, Long Live the Queen”
I chose the former to show I’m not being flippant, and taking the whole transition very seriously. 🙂
For those that don’t know, and, to save Googling, “Alea Iacta Est” (The Die is cast) is attributed to Julius Caeser prior to crossing the River Rubicon to attack Rome, though I believe the actual quote is “Iacta Alea Est” (Roll The Dice) History Lesson over.
My day… Started as a bag of nerves, as expected, not at the prospect of being Rachael in public, but as to whether I am sufficiently Transgender to avoid extended assessment. So nervous in fact that I bought a packet of cigarettes, (I know, Stupid doesn’t begin to cover it)
When I got back home my Wife was just leaving for work, so I could avoid the possible discomfort of getting ready while She was in the house. This, unfortunately only gave me forty minutes to shower, shave, blow dry my hair, (For the first ever time) dress and get to the Salon
I got to the Salon at 08:55, now I have watched YouTube on how to get in and out of a car in a skirt. Easy. Legs together, swing round and stand up. I whole heartedly recommend that you undo your seatbelt first before trying this manoeuver on your first time out, dressed with no makeup on a busy shopping street.
I believe I kept my dignity, or rather I didn’t actually luck round to see if I had lost it. And I did actually find the whole thing funny.
The makeup session was brilliant, no stress or hassle, just incredibly relaxing, and Kelly my beautician constantly building my confidence. She offered to walk me to my car afterwards but I felt so good that I walked on my own as Rachael in public, without a hint of self conciousness. (I have been so lucky so far, that the law of averages says I’m going to crash and my confidence will bomb, but until then….)
I then drove to Sheffield to clinic, not once looking to round to see if I had been read, while stopped at traffic lights or roundabouts. I found a place to park and then had to walk through the hospital grounds to the Gender clinic. I felt like I was walking femininely, although in reality I probably wasn’t. But at that point I didn’t care because I felt so confident.
I sat in the waiting area for a good twenty minutes with no trace of self consciousness, and when I was called as Rachael, (I had to sign in as Roy) another boost. (I believe it would be fair to say that by this point I could do anything, If they asked me to walk through Sheffield City Centre in a Burlesque costume I think I would have)
The therapist, straight away picked up on the confidence, And I explained that after the last appointment I was so angry thinking that I had been manipulated into moving forward faster than I was comfortable with, that I had been determined to be feminine and not androgynously female, that I actually realised I did want to be feminine and in doing so broke down some more of my self imposed restrictions. I told her I had informed my work colleagues and how supportive they were being. At which point she told me they provide assistance with this as it’s usually the most difficult part. A bit late to be telling me this I thought and yes it was difficult, but it worked out OK.
“Are you full-time?” she asked and I replied that out of consideration for my colleagues, I was going to do it gradually so they could get used to me as things changed.
“So, do you think you will be ready to go full-time by the end of the year?”
The first time I heard the following words were as they came out of my mouth, I had no indication to what they would be.
“I was actually thinking of two to three months”
We both stopped. I knew I meant it and I wasn’t just saying it to try to avoid an extended assessment.
She then asked about work again and I said that I was working closely with Senior management and my own managers to work to a timescale, whatever that would be, so there should be no issues with that either.
It wasn’t until I left that I realised that the rest of the session was talking about how I WILL deal with things at home, work socially and not WOULD (Theoretically). This makes more sense to me when she said that she would make an appointment for me to see a clinician regarding hormone therapy, again six to eight weeks. I had assumed by what I had been told that I would have two or three assessment appointments (unless it was to be extended) I would then have to wait to see if I had been approved for treatment.
I guess unofficially I have been approved, I’m trying not to get too excited because as I say I have been incredibly lucky so far and the law of averages Sods Law etc means that if this goes wrong now it’s really going to hurt. But I am allowing myself to smile.
I sat in my car afterwards for a few minutes and realised that my post of last night was right. He no longer exists. Only I exist now, and my sadness of last night has been replaced today with feelings of freedom and serenity.
The King Is Dead, Long Live The Queen.