Note: My friends' relationship didn't last, but that was a needed oasis of a weekend for me.
Tonight, I'm trying to stay warm as the wind blows and we're in a winter storm warning until until Wednesday morning.
I'm back in the confines of the good ol' house arrest again.
But...I was able to spend an entire weekend in the company of a couple friends who offered to get me out of this small town for a few days.
Their touching generosity came at a really good time. The walls have been closing in tighter and tighter lately.
I'd met one of the friends, a natal woman, once before. I hadn't met her fiancee, a transwoman, before, but I'd talked to her numerous times.
One nice thing right off the bat was this. For almost 72 hours, I didn't hear "his" name. Not once.
I was referred to as the proper name of Kara. My name. As it should be.
We went out Saturday and Sunday with me as the real me. Or as close to it as I could get.
Due to the previously mentioned current wardrobe limitations (no breast forms, stuck with ugly man shoes). I didn't have the presentation where I wanted it.
My makeup was good and wig looked alright, but...honestly, I felt like I was in neither/nor land.
I felt like an awkward freak...and I almost never feel like a freak.
The first night was kind of a bust. We left too late and there was no place to sit to watch the drag show. We wound up spending more time getting ready to go out than actually be out.
And you know what? That was still good. Plenty of gg's have nights out that don't turn out quite right. Plus, the big thing was that I got dressed and went out as me. Glory in the effort, if not the outcome.
Plus I was in great company. My hosts are both sweet girls.
Sunday night was better. The only real hitch was that the main room was too full, so we had to watch the pageant on the video screen where we are. There were limitations to the technology.
The spotlight washed out any detail in the performers...making it look like a contest to decide Miss Rorshach Test.
The second night further cemented some truths about myself. I was looking at some of the guys in the club and....I kept thinking, "He's cute. Pity he's gay"
I also found myself wishing I looked like the gg' there and checking out their outfits.
It wasn't a "mainstream" outing...but I think I was better off sticking in lgbt territory this time, especially given the presentation issues.
My hosts pointed out I was quiet during the weekend as a whole. Some of this was my natural shyness. I can be real quiet in person at first, but get me in front of a keyboard and I can't shut up.
Plus, I had a lot of thoughts bouncing around in my head..my desire to transition, my inability to be able to do anything close to what I need to about my true self, the combination of joy and pain I was feeling. I felt really good and more self-conscious than ever about my appearance and mannerisms, even as i've workedd on them.
When asked what I was thinking, all I could come up with was the highly articulate answer of "Nothing."
All in all, there was good food, good company and even a good movie...since one of the other girls hadn't seen "Ma Vie En Rose" yet, we watched that. If you haven't seen that yet, do.
But all good things come to an end and this morning, we started making our way out, to take me and the girlfriend home to our respective cities.
It wasn't a good sign that the parking area outside my friend's place was turned into a rink, but we got out of there and all three of us made it home safely.
I cried off and on during the ride back. To be sure, part of this was being stuck going back to a place that has done me no good. It felt like I was being escorted back to a cell.
But the bigger part of this was that I simply was moved by the whole weekend. These two friends were under no obligation to treat me to a weekend, but treat me, they did. In addition to being a cute couple, they're good people.
It felt nice to have a couple of days with the opportunity to be out as the real me and, even if I wasn't out, to be treated as me...not as "him."
All good things must come to an end, but it means they were good things to begin with.
On the whole, it was 100 percent worth it and I can't wait to do it again, especially once things turn around so I can pay back my hosts by treating them.
All in all, it sucks to be back in relative hiding, but 72 hours of freedom is enough to remind me that hiding will not, can not work long term. No way, no how.
One way or another, the real me HAS to make it out into the world.