Week 162 – The wedding

Saturday I attended a wedding in Portland for a friend I’ve known for almost twenty-five years. He and his bride, his parents, his kids, and some people who I’d only known online for over a decade but met for the first time there knew I was trans. It was a small wedding, so I’m reasonably certain most people there knew I was trans. This was the first wedding I’ve attended since my transition.

Other than the groom misgendering me after a few drinks, my correcting him, and him apologizing later, me being trans was a non-issue. I got to wear a pretty dress with some high heels and even gave a brief toast to the couple over a microphone.

In the hours before the event, I was anxious. Doubts began to cloud my thoughts. Could I really pull off this dress? Am I just faking it? What if someone says something rude? Am I going to topple off my heels? Why did I agree to come to this and make a spectacle of myself?

Silly thoughts, all of them, but such is the leech of dysphoria. It feeds silently on doubt until you can’t but help noticing its engorged body. You hesitate to pull it off out of fear you’ll rip off skin with it.

I took a deep breath before I left my hotel room, wrapped in my scarf and clutching my clutch. ‘I can do this. I can do this. I can do this,’ I told myself.

I did. And I had a good time.

The leech only came to feed briefly when I saw the young nieces of the bride, with their up-dos and pretty flowers in their hair, and when I had to walk across the empty dance floor to the bathroom. In the former, it was from wistfulness about a youth I never had. In the latter, it was about having a body that doesn’t move the way I’d like because my hips are the way they are.

After the wedding I changed and went out for drinks with one of the groom’s sons and a couple of those people I’d never met before. We were just people out having drinks after a wedding. Nothing more, nothing less.

Which is exactly where I want to be right now.

About cistotrans

A Seattle-area trans woman seeking a happy spot to stay at along the path of transition.
This entry was posted in coming out, friends, gender transition, LGBT, personal history, transgender, transition and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to Week 162 – The wedding

  1. Connie Dee Ingalls says:

    You can chalk that up to another extraordinary becoming ordinary.:-)

    I had the pleasure of being the matron of honor (but I’m not matronly!!!) for a friend’s wedding a few years ago. I was even asked to sing the song for their exit from the church. I’m no stranger to being in front of a lot of people, especially when singing, so I was not too apprehensive. In fact, it was rather ordinary at the moment, but now I look back at it as having been quite extraordinary – extraordinary in a totally different way than I might have thought beforehand.

    If for no other reason, attending a wedding is an excuse to get all gussied up, which is something we don’t often get to do living in the Northwest.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. SupremeTori says:

    I really feel the description you gave dysphoria. It’s a crippling feeling. Enjoyed your story!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sounds like a great time! Thanks for sharing 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. That is awesome and such a confidence builder. Soon everything will just be as natural as could be without even a thought.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Oh, I’d love to be a Maid of Honor,and get to sing at my friends wedding. To wear a pretty maid of honor dress,heels,lingerie. It’s always a first time for Transgender Ladies.


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