Just when I think I should have the first tattoo of my life proudly showing my transgender flags- then I run into a situation where I strive to be so incredibly stealth. I wonder why?
As I begin to review my first full year on HRT, I naturally remember a few parts more than others. I find the process humorous since most of the time I struggle to remember what happened yesterday.I do know that parts of the year were a true blur. As I love to say "it moved at warped speed" a decidedly unscientific term!
I believe the time was the middle of the summer as I was hating the heat but loving the fashion. For the first time ever I could wear the sleeveless feminine fashions. I believe the process of "air cooling" over the summer was the only thing that saved me from a certain self combustion.
At any rate, I started on a path of Trans-Nationalism" and began to consider some sort of visible tattoo which shouted my pride to the world. Perhaps a feminine design of sorts on one of the upper areas of my developing breasts? But then a feared four letter word began to creep into my thought pattern- PAIN! I know many of my friends have tattoos and they have reassured me I wouldn't die in the process and of course the huge sissy word crept into the conversation. That was OK, since most of my life I dealt with the Macho word but let me take it a step further and say "paybacks indeed are a bitch".
For what ever reason, I never moved forward into body art or letting my "trans flags fly" last summer. Never is a big word though and I can't say a "Tatt" is not in my future. Certainly I haven't changed my ideas of being extremely proud of what I have been able to achieve this year. The people I have as friends know I'm trans and the places I hang out in know it too. Do I need a sign?
I do suppose though the appeal of being stealth in the public eye will never go away and that's OK too. Only the future will tell!