New job, new car, new me!

It has long been said that I don’t do things by halves. So now, as well as buying a new car, I’ve got a new job – and I’ll be en femme eeeeeeevery day!

Which is pretty scary, to be honest, but hey, I decided I needed to give myself a kick up the arse, so that’s exactly what I did.

First thing’s first, my car. I’ve had my beaten-up Toyota Corolla since about 2007. Although not glamorous, it’s nippy, reliable and fab to drive.

Going to work dressed how I want to be is going to be f*cking awesome!

And despite having 162,000 miles on the clock, it has been bullet-proof, steadfastly refusing to die. Every year for about the past five years, the chap at my local garage would tell me something like: “Weeeeell, it’s passed its MoT by the skin of its teeth, but I can’t see you getting another year out of it. It’s really time to look for something else.”

But I like to get my money’s worth! This time, however, the news was fatal – emissions. A new catalytic converter would cost more than the car’s worth – and there would still be no guarantee that it would solve the problem. It had failed on tyres and other stuff, too.

Which came as a bit of a blow as I’d just wrapped up my own business and was planning to take a career break and economise as much as I could for a month or two. New cars ain’t cheap.

I’d run my own business since 2011, winning nine journalism accolades over the years. But, due to a combination of falling advertising revenues and me losing my mojo, I decided a few weeks back to wrap things up. I wanted to take a career break and work on renovating my house.

Another reason was that working from home – although lovely – was holding me back with my transition. I realised that to truly “get out there”, I needed to get a job back in the real world and present as female every day. I needed to give myself a kick up the arse!

Within days of announcing that I was winding up my business, a pal who was also looking for jobs, got in touch to say that she’d seen a magazine journalist role advertised, and it suited me down to the ground.

I applied and got an interview – and I absolutely bossed it. I walked in there feeling doubly nervous (first job interview for years combined with presenting en femme at one for the first time) but walked out of the office feeling that I’d absolutely NAILED it.

I’d been interviewed by the editor – a really lovely lady – and her boss, a chap. She told me at the end that she’d let me know later that day whether I’d got the job. All sounded really positive.

That night, I got an email to say that, despite giving a really strong interview, I’d not got the job – they’d given it to someone with experience in the subject area specifically covered by the magazine.

Which I thought was a little odd seeing as there were two positions up for grabs. Maybe there was a little transphobia here – it was a very male environment. I dunno, I’ll never know. But I took lots of positives from the experience anyway.

So I posted the news on Facebook, as you do. And then a lady I used to know years ago got in touch to say her husband’s business was looking for a writer. Oooooh!

We met for a pub lunch and, once again, I was en femme. All went well and, the next morning, I was invited for a job interview. This was loads tougher than my previous interview. First, I had to sit a written test for about two hours. Then there was the talky bit.

It went well – but not half as well as the first one. There were some parts of the test I couldn’t complete as I didn’t have the software knowledge – and some tough questioning as I’ve not worked in this sort of business before (although I’ve worked as a writer since the mid-1990s).

I was told, once again, that they’d get in touch later that day. Employers don’t mess around these days, do they?!

Damn right, gurl!

A few hours later, the phone rang and, bugger me backwards, I was offered the job! Hoorah!!! I don’t want to say too much about what it is, where it is, etc. Mainly because there are one or two stalky people reading this blog and I don’t want them to know.

But yeah, it feels great that my new employers evidently think I’ve got what it takes – and they’re all completely cool about me being trans. Very liberal folks. I start soon.

As the firm is moving offices, I was given three weeks before starting. I planned to spend this time working on my house. Instead, I went out far too much and enjoyed myself, piling on loads of weight in the process. Damn you, real ale! So I’m starting Slimming World again (again!) this week. I think I’ve drawn the line so many times now, I’ve run out of ink.

So, I start my job soon and, on Saturday, safe in the knowledge that I’m gonna be on a kick-ass salary, I bought a new car. It’s cute, it’s shiny, it’s fun to drive. It’s even got technical gubbins like Bluetooth. My current car has a cassette player, it’s so old!

In other news, I had my second T-blocker jab yesterday, which means I’ve been on blockers for three months and estrogen for nine. I now have two very sensitive nips – good that the left one has now caught up with the right.

The side-effect pain in my arms has gone away, thankfully. Phew. And things are developing very nicely, thank you.

So there ya go. Time to open a new chapter in my life. It’s as scary as f*ck, but it’s got to be done as I was in danger of stagnating a bit. Time to stop hiding and get out there.

Andie xxx