It was Saturday night, the evening after the airshow(so I thought).

I was a tad pissed, but not too much. I had been unable to even see the airshow from my house, unlike the normal deal where the stunts were mainly focused on one of the airbases’ runways which happened to be not more than a mile or so from my house.

Anyway, when our sort-of kid called and said he was taking the boat out to the harbor to watch the next day’s airshow, I was excited. I had to argue it out with hubby, but I was determined to go, and I was determined not to go as a boy.

Anyway, I actually packed a bikini(I fill it out halfway decently now), just in case we were out on the water not close to anybody. The kid has seen me naked and everything, so no biggy there. Anyway, it didn’t turn out that way, the boat was stuck in the dock.

So we went out to a little place I know to watch the show. I actually got up enough nerve to go out in a pair of linen short shorts and a T-shirt. I was regretting that pretty quickly. There were shitloads of people in my private spot!

Oddly enough, that wasn’t the reason I regretted the way I was dressed. That was all down to the wind, which was enough to make us both shiver.

So I basically had my first day out as a girl and it was a non-event. The coolest part of the day was watching the Blue Angels perform over the harbor.

Something that had me scared shitless was defused a great deal, not just due to the distraction but due also to the fact the kid has been my best sparring partner for a long time and I know the 2 of us can at least put forth enough hurt to get away if need be.

And before anybody calls me paranoid, I should remind yawl that I’m in the deep south. I don’t have to be paranoid, I just have to remember the history of my own town(The most liberal in the state, btw). I just have to listen to the things people say when I’m playing boy.

So scared shitless? Yep, you betcha. Freezing my ass off and watching the airshow? Way more important.

There was one note of humor in the whole thing. There was a small family unit there, Two hispanic guys and a kid(In a pretty much exclusively white town they kinda stuck out). I got the deal at a glance.

They had clearly been out on the pier built onto the burned out bridge fishing and were nonplussed when hordes of people showed up. They had packed up and were heading back to their vehicle when the jets came over low on their first pass.

I don’t know how to say “Holy shit, look at the planes!” in Spanish, but I don’t think it needed much translation. They stuck around and watched the show with us, them not understanding our English and us not understanding their Spanish, but “Hey, look there!” doesn’t need much in the way of translation.

Like I said, it was kind of a non-event.

Anyway, it was a little baby step for me, I haven’t worn shorts outside since I decided to stay hairless a couple of years ago.

I would really love to just transition and get it done with, but I’ll be honest, I’m scared shitless. I know I have to do it and I’m working on it. I have a supportive husband, a sister who loves and supports me, and a mom who might not support me but at least deigned to give me a name. As for dad, I asked mom what he thought. She said his word was “Yuck”.

I assume that means I disgust him. No surprise there.

I guess I’m really just frustrated. I know it takes time, but I’ve waited so long!

I could regret the time I’ve waited, but I’ve decided I won’t. I waited for the absolute best of reasons, for love. If it turns out that doing what I ultimately have to do to survive means that I lose that love, I will be shattered, but the one thing I will not do is regret those 2 decades. Don’t get me wrong, I dearly want for my love to love me as I become myself, but if he can’t, I can’t help that anymore.

You bet I will treasure those years, because the likelihood is that one way or another, I will spend the greater part of my adult life alone. If we stay together(oh please!) then I will lose him to old age eventually.

Any way you look at it, I’m looking at anywhere from 20-60 years of being alone. I deserve to have some happiness before I become the bitter old cat lady, dammit!