Thursday, March 7, 2019

What Will the Neighbors Say?

I used to worry all the time about what the neighbors may think about me. Before I made it to my who gives a damn thought phase.

Plus, our house is spaced close together with all the others and the cars are always parked in the driveway. There would be no escape even if I wanted one. I quit worrying so much too when I went full time. Which I had pretty much been, since I moved down to Cincinnati.

One lesson I did learn was to be the first to speak. The idea has worked well if I encounter anyone else during my daily walks and when new neighbors recently moved in.

Then last fall, our one neighbor added another person to their household, a young very androgynous woman from Louisiana. Since they have a daughter approximately the same age, Liz and I have had fun speculating if the new woman may have romantic ties to the daughter. Which may explain some of their apparent acceptance of me.

It's also interesting because they are very religious too. Of course I don't know what faith they follow. It's not so easy to speculate because even when Cincinnati remains very conservative and anti LGBTQ because of it's strong Catholic heritage, several of the cross dresser - transgender group I am in are totally out and accepted in their parish. We even have a Methodist member who has found a Methodist Church here in town which has gone completely against the church's recent ruling not to accept LGBTQ clergy.

Whatever the case, it's always nice to be accepted in your own neighborhood.


  1. I love in a development of what we call "Mansion Flats" in the heart of Croydon Town Center, it's hard to avoid neighbours so I go out of my way to be friendly and greet them. I will often be the one to speak first, but now after over three years they seem to be used to me, I haven't eaten any of their children or molested their husbands so all's OK

    A friendly smile goes a long way.

  2. We've lived in our house for 36 years, and so are among the few old-timers on our block. We have welcomed a lesbian couple across the street, another across the alley, and a gay man next door into the neighborhood. Still, it wasn't until just a few years ago that I felt comfortable to show my pretty face, more to reduce the amount of potential drama than anything else. When I finally decided it was ridiculous that I had been living as a woman everywhere but in my own front yard, I began doing some much-needed work on the large bay window I had installed a few years earlier. Nobody paid much attention to me, except a few who walked by saying, "Lookin' good" (in reference to the window; not to me). One day, though, the guy across the street was chatting with my wife, and he asked if the woman working on the window was her sister. She replied, "No, that's (dead name), who is Connie now."

    Just like everything else in my journey, I had procrastinated myself into needless despair. I could have done that window work, not to mention the yard work, years earlier. I laugh at the thought of people in the neighborhood accepting me more because of how the front of our house looks than how good I look now. :-)