Saturday saw a rare outing for me en femme in the real world, rather than changing on-site at the support group meeting my wife and I went beforehand to have dinner with another local couple whose situation mirrors ours. J and S are a bit older than us and J is lucky enough to have enviable presentation that puts mine in the shade, but J's battle to hang in there for S mirrors mine for my wife so we have a lot in common.
It is certainly a help to sit down face-to-face with someone on a similar path. I hope talking to me was of as much worth to J as talking to her was for me and I think our wives found similar benefit.
So off we went to Swindon while our other halves stayed behind to chat, drink wine and watch the sunset. I am pleased to note that I was happy with my presentation, I think I looked as if I'd made an effort. I certainly detected no adverse attention in my direction, a little work and confidence goes a long way.
The meeting attracted a smaller than usual turnout, some of the regulars being off at Sparkle. Biscuits and coffee in a community hall in Swindon may have less to offer than a huge celebration of transgender identity up in Manchester attracting thousands from all over the place, but it had its usual friendly and relaxed atmosphere and best of all those nice people at Swindon council had replaced the hard plastic chairs with ones sporting nifty red cushions. The glamour of a provincial transgendered lifestyle!
J drives an eminently respectable estate car that happens to have an engine which would leave the Turbocharged Rollerskate in the dust. The perfect machine for burning away Swindon's chavs in their farty little hatchbacks. The ignominy of being left for dead by two respectable ladies in a car that looks more suited for taking the Labrador up to the Ridgeway. Women drivers eh!