That “awkward in-between stage” and going full-time

The web is full of thousands of stories of transitions and how trans women (with one or two exceptions) feel so much happier for evolving into their true selves. There are fewer stories of that period where you’ve left your male life behind – but you’re not quite “all woman”. So here’s mine.

I’ve now been on estrogen for 11 months, and T-blockers for five. Things are going swimmingly, thanks for asking, and I have absolutely zero regrets. I’m very, very happy.

But there’s one thing I wasn’t at all prepared for, and that’s what I want to write about here. When I came out, pretty much everyone was supportive. I had a few issues with my then-partner’s family, then my then-partner herself and one or two “friends”.

But that’s ancient history, none of them are part of my life anymore and I’ve moved on. The point is that 100% of the people who really matter – ie my close friends and my family – are completely supportive. Even my brother-in-law’s now on board!

Another thing you need to be prepared for when coming out is the reaction of people you don’t know. And again, apart from a couple of funny looks from blokes, that’s gone swimmingly, too. I’ve only experienced positive things – blokes being chivalrous and women being utterly lovely. You get called “love”, “darling” and “sweetheart” far more as a woman.

What I wasn’t prepared for at all was the reaction from people who I know but am not super close to. So those more at the acquaintance end of the friendship scale than the BFF end.

There were a few incidents in the past week or two which have highlighted this. The first was at the football two weeks ago.

There’s a lady I know from my Slimming World group. Let’s call her Laura. Laura’s been going to Slimming World a few months now, she got to target in no time at all and she’s absolutely beautiful inside and out. She’s only ever known me as Andie – never as Andy.

Anyway, I STILL don’t go to football en femme. This is probably the final hurdle I need to clear. I’ve been supporting my local non-league team since 1995, it’s really blokey (far more so than League football) in terms of the people who go to watch it and I know dozens and dozens of people there. All have only ever known me in bloke mode.

So yeah, pretty big hurdle, huh? I need springs in my shoes for that one.

Anyway, a couple of Saturdays ago, I’d had a few pints before the match and a couple more during it. Then, as I was leaving, I spotted Laura, who also happens to be the partner of a former player and the daughter-in-law of the director of football and his wife, who runs the hospitality side of things. They’ve only ever known me as Andy.

So I went up to her and (a bit drunkenly!) said: “Hi Laura! How’s it going?!” And then I suddenly realised I was in bloke mode, mad hair all over the place and looking like crap! I spluttered something else and then headed for exits.

So at that point, I realised something. A couple of years ago, before I was properly “out”, I was very careful who got to see me en femme. Now, that little coin’s completely flipped over and I’m far more conscious of people seeing me in bloke mode – apart from that little area of my town comprising of the football ground and the local pub.

This week, there were more events. Wednesday morning, I’d overslept and was running late for work. As I dashed from my house, I heard someone say “Andieeeeee!”

I looked up and there was a fella I’ve known for years from the same football club. He’s never seen me en femme before, so this was something else new. I said hello to him (and his wife) and they were all smiles (and in a nice way).

I made a sort of “well, here I am, this is me now!” gesture with my hands and he gave me the thumbs up.

I sent him a message on Whatsapp a few minutes later and he replied:

You’re still the same person, just a different cover.

He doesn’t understand what I’m doing at all – he’s said as much – but at least he’s being nice about it all, and that means a lot cos it was reaction of people like him that I was most worried about. Had the blokes at the football started taking this piss, I’d have stopped going – and I love my football. I don’t wanna stop going!

Later that day, I had to visit my neighbour who’d taken in a parcel for me while I was at work. She’s only lived next to my place a few weeks and had only ever seen me in bloke mode – twice.

So I grasped the nettle, knocked on her door (still en femme in my work clothes) and picked up my parcel. She didn’t bat an eyelid. I briefly explained my story and she was uber-supportive. She’s a lovely neighbour to have.

Feeling all empowered, I headed to the supermarket round the corner. I’d got to the stage where I was going to one supermarket en femme and the other one not. Which is ridiculous!

Especially since there’s a trans man who works at the one round the corner, so the staff must surely be LGBT-aware. So I headed there and did my shopping, said hi to the trans man who was filling the shelves (he said I looked fab, bless him!) and carried on doing my shopping, all without incident.

Another night recently, I went to see Sleeper (for the sixth time!) perform in Derby. I made eye contact with Louise Wener, who gave me a big smile, and I met three lads I used to know in the Britpop days. I was en femme. No-one cared. All these little incidents add up and give you confidence.

Last night, I went to see my local am-dram group (and what a bloody brilliant play it was, too!) at a local venue which had been converted into a cracking theatre.

I saw Laura’s mother-in-law and had a chat in the interval. She’d never seen me en femme until that point. Again, nothing but loveliness and support.

And, at the end, I met one of the actors, who I’d only ever seen before on the checkouts at the same supermarket (so me in bloke mode). I said: “You look different!” And she replied: “So do you!” We chatted about the play and about trans stuff and then shared a big hug.

Soooooooo, now I need to ask myself this: am I ready to go full-time? I’m virtually full-time anyway – so why not go that extra step? Why not clear that final hurdle?

When I began to transition, I read so many times that “it does get easier” – by that, I mean going out in public en femme. The first few times are really scary – you honestly believe everyone is looking daggers at you.

But the more you do it, the easier it gets. And you start to realise that hardly anyone’s looking at you. And, if they are, most people don’t realise you’re trans anyway, at least in my case. It’s mainly my voice that gives me away, although that’s getting better.

I have one more football match to go to before the end of the season, and that’s next Saturday. Maybe over the summer, I can pluck up the courage to finally clear that final hurdle for the start of next season. And then that will be me done, full-time. Wow, never thought in my wildest dreams I’d say that.

In other news, the hormones are still working wonders, and I’m going to have a hair transplant, so that I can wave farewell to my wig forever. More on that later.

Andie xxx