Chapter One

Angie's Giant Leap For Womankind

Looking back at that night, it was complete madness! It was up there with crossing a motorway with your eyes shut. It was reckless, stupid, insane and the most exciting thing I had ever done up to that point in my life.

For 40 years, I had been a crossdresser, a transvestite and finally, I titled myself a " Transgender person". This was more suited to how I felt about me. More specifically, I had been a 'closet' transgender person, i.e. I was what I was, but only behind the 4 solid walls of my house.

I never ventured out – EVER - apart from standing out the back but with the back door open. This was very brave of me I thought, then my life changed.  I was getting old, I was still married (miraculously!), but if I was ever going to rebel, to buck the system, to NOT do what was expected of me, it HAD to be now. 

My wife knew what I was. She knew it, yet she did not accept it, understand it or even like what I was, but she tolerated it. Providing she did not see me dressed or have any involvement, she just tolerated it. But then her health deteriorated, and she would go to bed early, leaving me to become ANGIE for a few precious hours late at night.

That was when I decided to go out of the house. To walk through the estate, with cars driving by, with people coming home after a night out, with drunks being sick in gutters, with children laughing at me, with police being called to arrest me, facing public humiliation, with stones thrown at my house, with graffiti sprayed on my car - OH GOD THIS CAN NOT HAPPEN TO ME - and it DIDN’T, well all the bad stuff!

True, I was dressed like a hooker! My perfect over-the-top makeup, lots of perfume, big hair – it all made me actually feel alive! A woman, or a stereotypical image of a woman, emerged from my house, but very quietly!

Transgender people are devious - they have to be! Years of ensuring we do not give away our inner woman make us secretive. Hiding skirts and stilettos where nobody will find them, removing all traces of makeup and returning to a butch, swaggering way of walking (no mincing like a supermodel darling!), and obliterating any hint of femininity that would lead to our public disgrace.

I had oiled the side gate (see- forward planning!), I left the main gate slightly open (no squeaks!) and felt ready to do the deed!

I felt sick. I looked and felt amazing! I was better dressed than most women on a hen-night. A last look in the mirror and I left the house. Next door's security light hit me like a spotlight on stage - lit up for all to see, I made my way out onto the street.

It was midnight. The heels of my boots echoed in the still night. But why was I walking like a man? It was all wrong. Women take small steps, toe, and heel down together, one foot in front of the other slightly crossing over, drop their shoulders, sway their arms across the hips, head up, letting each hip and buttock drop with each pace. That was better. Relax. Enjoy this.

Some house lights were on but no people on the street. Cross over the road. Don't trip or stumble. A car is coming - a taxi, oh god! It slowed to look for a house, its headlights lit me up like a searchlight. He must have seen me and……and nothing!! He did not shout abuse, get out and point- nothing. He has probably seen it all! It was nothing unusual. A woman - probably- but he didn't care. My heart pounded, my breathing quickened, I walked quicker - no, slow down- no panic!

I had achieved what I wanted, but I wanted more. I needed to be seen, admired, lusted over. I wanted recognition that I existed-and that I could exist in their world.

So, I walked on and on. More passing cars, vans, lorries - this was addictive! But what if a car stopped, offered me a lift, offered me money, made me get in…, no, stop thinking like this! Must get home quickly, quietly, invisibly.

I did. I smiled at my own reflection. I laughed at my achievement. My hands were shaking. My feet ached. Must get a gin & tonic and a cigarette. And then? Go back out again? Walk and strut again? Sway those hips again? I was addicted after one hit! So, that’s what I did - this time smoking and walking -well that is what hookers do, isn't it? This time I actually wanted a car to stop.

I wanted to be wanted - even if it was just for sex. I wanted the power over a weak-willed male. I wanted them to desire me. Maybe they did, but nobody stopped. Kerb crawling, a criminal offense- but is it? To want a woman, or what they thought was a woman.

And then what? I hadn't thought that far ahead. I couldn't handle the next bit, so back home I went. The Gin I drank made me woozy, irrational, foolhardy and reckless, so I went out again. Less cars about now. Very quiet. The buzz had gone, so go home.

I was now an attention-seeking tart! The buzz lessened with every night I went out after that but I was still hooked but I needed a new objective – I needed to come out of the dark.

To go out in daylight dressed as a Woman, passing people, talking to people, shopping, going for walks. No buzz in that… no, but it was what I had to do next and so I did, and still do every weekend, evening, and whenever I can.

I am a Transgender Woman, I always will be - and it is the only part of my life that makes any sense and gives me purpose. It also makes me happy, a nicer person, a better more caring person. Plus, it is also such FUN! Yes, fun - because that is what life should be all about.

I can’t wait to share the second chapter of my story with you all soon

Angie

If you would like to find a trans support group in your area, check out Trans Unite website here.