Saturday Liz and I went out to eat with her brother to celebrate two birthdays...hers and her son's. The steakhouse we went to is very familiar to me and really, I have never had any problems there. So, I couldn't understand why my dysphoria was giving me fits. It can only be described as a deep seated groundless anxiety.
Of course, it started to settle down as once again, outside of a couple looks, I didn't receive any negative attention. Even when I used the women's restroom.
I suppose I might as well just get used to it. Being transgender brings with it the inherent need for feminine acceptance and often, the acceptance is very hard to find in a world out to justify it's own acceptance.
On many occasions, I refer to my dysphoria as a form of PTSD. Which could be true too. I personally have never met any trans women who haven't experienced it. Some to the extent of subjecting themselves to seemingly endless painful medical operations.
I just went through too much error, in the "trial and error" cross dressing period of my life and, when you think of it, lasted much longer (so far) than my full time out and about years as a trans woman.
It's ironic too that I haven't experienced any significant public problems in years, so I can't justify the way I feel. At all. Perhaps I might as well just get used to it!