Girls Night Out

A small group of friends I have, every month has a dinner get together called a "meet-up."

Monday night, this month's meet-up was at a local Mexican restaurant. Out of seven people who said they were going to come, only three showed up. Including me. The other two were cis women I have known for awhile. To them I am just me and not transgender.

The dinner went along well with everyone sharing small talk about family and spouses. I didn't think much of it until I was on my way home, how nice it was.  Years ago, I considered a "girls night out" to be a rite of passage into a feminine life and now I was taking it for granted.

The picture is actually taken years ago at my first "girls night out." During it, the woman on the far right with the burgundy top never did seem to accept me being there. As I said, I have known the women I ate with for several years, so I did not have any problem with anything like that. Even the waiter was liberal with his use of the "lady" word. I have had problems with that in the past in a few Mexican restaurants.

Time flies when you are having fun!

When the Words Get in the Way

Again I find myself writing about a Facebook post I saw about labels.

The person in particular was again bitching about being called transgender and overall about labels being used at all. Ideally, she is right but then again the human animal needs labels to communicate. When you get right down to it, someone using the "she" pronoun with you is a label.

As far as being called trans at all is a matter of personal preference which I have written about here in Cyrsti's Condo many times. If I had my preference, I would like to be called a woman of transgender persuasion. However, all of that seems totally unwieldy.

I also think to be removed from the transgender woman umbrella creates one more void in the world. The more I am visible, the more I do to help create a better world for other trans girls. I guess my large frame is not built to go stealth and disappear.

Plus these days the community of all women needs all the help it can get.

Seeing as how I work with the written word, labels to me will be around for as long as there are humans.

It's Been Forever?

Yesterday I went to my bank to deposit some money. Out of the three tellers, I just happened to get the male one. Either he thought I was a vision of loveliness (probably not) or having a real live transgender woman in the bank was a relief from his normal day to day activities.

At any rate, the questions came fast, furious and friendly. Did I do most of my banking on line, was my day going good and was I sure there was nothing else I could be helped with?  I was almost embarrassed. After all, how exciting is a trip to the grocery store anyway?  Plus, yes I did live this way and just didn't put on makeup and women's clothes to go to the bank and run errands. He didn't ask that, of course.

I'm sure though, I shouldn't complain. It wasn't so long ago I was filled full of angst with the thought of even going out in public, let alone communicating with anyone.

As much as I want to be recognized as simply an attractive woman, more than likely, the idea of another person seeing me as a trans girl sometimes is just as satisfying.

In fact on Facebook, I just commented on a person's post who has complained about not wanting to be called transgender at all. She hates the community and pretty much all it stands for. That's all well and good, everyone is entitled to their opinion but it is akin to throwing the baby out with the dish water. After all, one of the big reasons no one knows much about the trans community is because of all the so called transsexuals who transitioned years ago and disappeared. And, like any other community, not all the peeps are pleasant.

We all grew up being someone. Just because that someone happened to be male doesn't make you or him all bad. With all the suicide going on in the LGBT community (especially the 'T') we need visible survivors to prove to the world we can make it and prosper.