On 12 August 1998, my psychiatrist recommended that I proceed to going out while dressed as a woman. As I sat in his office, I looked at myself and thought "He needs a psychiatrist far worse than I do and he is one!" Well, if he figured that I was ready and since I was not wanting to argue for a delay in progressing with my gender transition, I decided that I would proceed upon his recommendation.
Now don't get the idea that I looked like anything like a woman at the time. No, I could have given a gorilla a run for its bananas: body, arms and legs heavily covered with fur; dark, ever-present five o'clock shadow; crew cut; and the like. However, I was determined to proceed with my gender transition. Any delay would be unthinkable. So, on Thursday, 27 August 1998, just 15 days later, I made my first trip out into the public while dressed as a woman. Below is a description of my first trip out as my true self, that is, as Cassie.
The plan was to take a short, minimal-exposure trip to the doctor's office for my annual physical examination and back. I was determined to make this my first time out. The plan was to shave my face and body, shower, don the clothes that I had selected the previous evening, gather things into my purse and so forth up. All the while, up to the point where I was about to leave, I forced all thought of the possibilities out of my mind. I knew that if I entertained any negative thought then I would have lost the courage. Thus, I kept focused on doing all the preparatory work as though I had been doing them for years and as though everything was just normal, mindless routine.
Just as I was heading towards the door leading out of the apartment, a thought of doubt crept in. But I told myself that I was not going to let that thought or any other thought stop me. I pushed the thought from my mind and proceeded out the door.
Once I had passed through the door and the door was closed and locked, I turned around and faced the long corridor to the elevators. "Oh, sh*t!", I thought, "It's happened! I am out in public." I told myself that I must keep going, not to turn back. Keeping a bit of advice from the other transsexuals in mind, I walked calmly to the elevator. Although I was calm on the outside, inside was a quite different story. Was I nervous? Nah! I was bloody scared sh*tless!
While waiting for the elevator to arrive, I kept praying "Please, let the elevator be empty! Please, let no one else come out of their apartment while I was waiting!" Funny how the knees get weak at times, isn't it? The elevator arrived and my nerves jumped when the elevator door begun to open. Fortunate, no one was inside. I stepped in and quickly found the door-close button and the ground floor button.
As the elevator descended, I kept praying "Don't stop! All the way to the ground floor, PLEASE!!" There I was, a "guy" (after all, I still looked very much like a guy!) in the small box (the elevator) dressed as a woman! How silly I would look to anyone who saw me. The elevator stopped. We had arrived at the ground floor. Well, my prayers had been answered! I bet you can guess what my prayers became now, right? "Please, no one be in the lobby!" Sorry, not this time. There was a gentleman standing by the door. "Oh, no! Here is my first contact with the public. Remember the First Rule!"
I put on an air of confidence. It did not lessen the true feeling, not a bit! As I walked towards the door, the gentleman, who had been watching me approach, opened the door for me. I turned my head towards him, smiled and said thank-you to him. Imagine having the door opened for you, a "lady", by a gentleman for the first time. To this day, I have not fully adjusted to having doors opened for me, but it is nice. Anyway, I kept walking, out through the door, and on to my van. As I sat down in my van, I thought "Wow! I am actually out in public dressed as a woman!" So, it was not too bad -- ignoring that my heart was pumping hard and fast, that I was bordering on hyperventilation, and that my palms were considerably more moist than usual.
After starting the van, I drove to the doctor's office. Then, as I was getting out of the van, another nasty thought begged for my attention. The waiting room would probably be packed (it was a clinic's waiting room, after all), and I would probably have to sit in the waiting room until the doctor was ready for me. "Remember the First Rule!" So, I walked nonchalantly through the waiting room to my doctor's office to let them know that I was here. They mercifully ushered me into one of the examination rooms immediately.
The nurse instructed me to strip down to my undies, and to leave my top on. I did so. I had to wait for a while, since I had arrived about ten minutes arly. Imagine what thoughts occurred while I was sitting there. Was I still scared? Nah! Was I nervous? You bet! After a while, the doctor arrived and proceeded to give me my physical examination. (The physical was preparatory work for starting the hormone therapy.) Anyway, he proceeded much as with the previous physical examinations.
During one part of the examination, the doctor did something that took me quite by surprise. He had me sit up so that he could listen to my heart and lungs with his stethoscope while I took deep breaths. So, what's surprising about that? I still had my top on and he was listening by placing his stethoscope on top of my top. I asked him whether it would not be better for me to remove my top. He said it would be. Then he continued with the listening, not giving me a chance to remove my top. I was pleasantly surprised that he had respected my gender even though I was still very much stuck in a male body. This the second blatant act of respecting who I was.
Other than a slightly elevated blood pressure and a slightly racing heart rate (both due to the nervousness of the experience), I had passed the physical examination. The doctor then handed me the usual form for the blood tests. However, the number of checked boxes was considerable! He had even added a few more tests that were not on the form. I thought "Will I have any blood left when they finished taking the blood for these tests?" After getting dressed, I walked out of the doctor's office, through the crowded waiting room, and out to the parking lot. My plan was to return to my apartment, get changed into my usual clothes and go to work. However, a thought came up. The medical lab where I would have the blood tests done was just around the corner from the doctor's office.
"Are you crazy? Another waiting room waiting! More people to be exposed to!" Undauntedly, I decided that I would do it. I drove around to the lab and walked in. It's your guess as to who was more shocked: the people in the waiting room, seeing a man dressed as a woman, or me for having the nerve to do it. After the nurse had drawn the blood, I walked back to the parking lot, sat in the van, and then drove home. The trip from the van to the apartment was a lot less painful than the start of my first trip out. I met no one on the way in.
After I had got into the apartment and had hurriedly locked the door. I leaned back against the door, reflected on what I had done this morning and shook. It felt good to have completed my first trip out while dressed as a woman. It was past time to get changed and to go to work. So, I hurried through the tasks and went to work. Needlessly to say (I know, then why say it, right?), I was charged up all day. The memories of my first trip out played on my mind for the rest of the day.
I knew that I had broken through some major stumbling blocks. I also knew that I had to repeat the experience soon. Otherwise, I would lose the nerve. So, on Saturday (just two days later) I took my second trip out. Met a lot fewer people this time. I had still planned the trip to minimize my exposure to the public.
The third trip out was on Saturday, 5 September, nine days after the first trip out. I had planned to spend the morning at a crowded shopping mall. Reason? I had to get used to being out in the public, not shying away from life. The trip went as planned. When I got back from the third trip, was I scared sh*tless? No, I was invigorated by a high level of nervousness. The trips were desensitizing me quickly. Each Saturday morning, I would get dressed as a woman and spend the morning out as Cassie. I now looked forward to each Saturday. Then to each Saturday and Sunday.
One curious incident happened on my fourth trip out. While walking around a crowded, large shopping mall as Cassie, I passed an elderly lady. When she caught sight of me, dressed as a woman, she stopped and kept staring at me. She had such a angry stare. What was funny to me was that I am sure that she thought she could stare me to death with that nasty look on her face. No such luck for her sake.
What advice can I give to you who are still waiting for the first time that you go out dressed as a woman? First, remember and live by the two rules that have helped me tremendously. See my web page Two rules that Cassie (a Transsexual) Lives By for the rules. Second, remember that it is your right to express your true self, to be who you really are, and to not live the lie that you have been living. Third, each trip out in public while cross-dressed will be easier than each of the previous trips, as long as you keep the trips frequent.
Good luck.
Cassie
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