Alone in a Crowded Room

 

Image from Bruno Aquirre 
on UnSplash.

I often refer to the days when I was first going out and seeking clues to my true identity as going out to be alone. I called it that because I had not yet met any regular acquaintances that I would have called friends on a regular basis. So, I was surrounded by a group of strangers no matter where I went. Even so, it was better than sitting at home by myself staring wishfully into the mirror.

Following leaving my painfully shy days behind me and becoming a rather social person, I did miss the interaction with the public. Going out alone was the only recourse I had which brought up several other problems. One of which was if I did present as a successful woman sitting by herself at a busy bar, always invited trouble because I was so out of place. It was during those times that I used my cell phone as a prop. In essence signaling to people, I was waiting for someone to arrive and join me. Plus, in the cold winter months, I could place my coat or jacket on the seat next to me to act like it was occupied. Both of which helped keep away any unwanted advances from mainly intoxicated men. On the other hand, other intoxicated ciswomen did not count, and I welcomed any of their advances which completely outnumbered men. Mainly because the women were so curious about what I was doing in their world.

Another problem I had was a huge case of impostor syndrome I suffered from. No matter how nice the stranger approaching me was, somehow, I felt I did not quite belong in the new exciting world I was in. It took me a while to get adjusted to the fact I was succeeding in a life that I had previously only considered a dream. I also still considered myself a rank amateur because of how I was able to conduct myself as a new transgender woman. I knew very little about how ciswomen communicated in the world away from men and it showed. For the longest time, the little nuances women use to communicate escaped me. Forcing me into shutting down and just listening to others and sometimes coming off as a standoffish bitch. Which was the last thing on my mind to happen.

I began to move away from being a stranger in a crowded room when I began to have enough confidence in myself to move forward. I was no longer just an virtual impostor just observing the world to jump in and inserting how I felt about things and people around me. A word of warning though, it took me a while to get there. Too much trial and error before I gained the confidence in my own unique form of womanhood which differed from many other women around me but at the same time, was still as complete. Sort of.

It was not until I began to build up my own circle of friends who happened to be mainly lesbians did, I began to relax and truly enjoy myself. I was no longer an imposter but now a full-fledged participant in my resurgent social life. Probably the only mistake I made was when I did not realize how different two of my friends were who I kept inviting to our impromptu meetings at sports bars and lesbian mixers. I was still naïve to the lesbian culture and did not realize the differences between a so-called gold star lesbian and one that had been with a man. I had one gold star friend along with another who had been previously married with three kids, so on occasion sparks did fly. In the meantime, I was off in my own little world jumping at the chance to be a wing person for one of my friends and trying to set her up with another woman at the mixer. It never worked, but I had a fun time trying.

The best part was I was no longer a stranger in a crowded room. I was becoming a full-fledged participant and loved it. The only problem I was having then was my new feminine life was starting to seriously force my hard-earned male life into an early retirement. A retirement he was so not ready for. Often the gender conflict I endured was mental and brutal. I did the only thing I knew to do and that was to internalize my feelings and move on. Which was the last thing I should have tried to do. My male self-wanted to keep me being a stranger in a crowded room so he could have his way. What he did not count on was, the more I worked on my dream gender life, the bigger and more accepting the room became.

The more I think about it, the more I think my male self-wanted to keep my female self as a kept woman. Validated by him only. Eventually, my transfeminine soul won out and he needed to face the truth. He was always part of living a lie in my life. Since my impostor syndrome was for the most part gone, it was the last remaining significant part of my life for him to cling to.

It felt so good to no longer just to be going out to be alone and know I would have the chance to meet my friends or even make new ones. Because I had hid my true self away for all those years, my transgender dream self could not wait for a chance to live and express herself in a crowded room.