Playing in the Girls Sandbox

Very early in my transition into a feminine world. I discovered all was not all it seemed behind the scenes, Or what I called playing in the girls sandbox. In the beginning all seemed rosy. Sales clerks eager for my money met me with a smile. Plus, the servers where I went to eat and drink were happy to see me because I was nice and tipped well.

The deeper I went into how the sandbox really worked, I found flaws in the system. For example, it was re-enforced with me how women work in cliques while on the other hand, men form teams. Taking the example a step further, I found how I dressed could help me to fit in with a certain group of women.

Before I drifted into the Boho fashion craze, I found I could present convincingly as a professional woman. In fact, one of the first nights out I ever had was when I dressed in a professional woman's attire and went to an upscale bar frequented by other similarly dressed women. Looking back, I consider the night as the tipping point on my journey from being a cross dresser all the way towards being a novice transgender woman. Also I should point out I was terrified and sat in the parking lot for nearly a half hour before going in. I guess something was telling me this was going to be a key moment in my life.

Photo by Marcus Spiske
On Unsplash.

As it turned out, it was only a civilized introduction to the sandbox. As I drifted away from the upscale bar, I drifted into sports bars where I was often the only single woman at the bar watching sports or participating in games such as trivia. All went fairly well until I met up with several couples I began to be on a first name basis with. I learned the hard way to reject even the smallest amounts of acceptance from the men. When I did the smiles were replaced by claws or worse yet, knives in my back. Very quickly I learned where my place in the sandbox was.

As I did all of this, I was drinking copious amounts of beer which led me of course to needing to use the women's room. Or should I say, the litter box. The amount of alcohol I was drinking had the effect of being a double edged sword. On one hand it emboldened me to try to explore living as my authentic self but on the other hand, forced me into using restrooms I wasn't welcomed in. 

Of course I have written before about some of the more unpleasant experiences I had in the restroom. Overall, I was amazed how I could be seemingly accepted and socialized with until I had to use the litter box.

I was fortunate in  that I survived my early days in the girl's sandbox relatively unclawed. Perhaps it was becuase the feminine clique I landed in was unthreatening to most women. I didn't fit in with the cheerleading types. I tried my best just to be social and it must have worked.

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