Today was a day I wasn’t looking forward to: I have a lot of catching up on grading to do, and I send out my weekly updates to my online students on Sundays. Those two things kind of hang over me like a cloud. Add to that the fact that I’m doing a bunch of public presentations over the next month and let’s just say I’m a little bit stressed.
I also don’t know how femme I’ll express this week. We have people coming in for some of our open faculty positions, and that means I have to be around some of the administration for the next little bit.
Add it all up and I decided I wanted to femme today going out to derby practice. So that’s what I did.
I usually wear leggings to practice, but today I didn’t feel like wearing a long shirt to cover up my dangly bits. Why not wear a skirt? What the hell, I thought, and I did.
I’m still in the same outfit: black leggings, a long-sleeve grey top with a tulip back, and a multi-hue green skirt that’s about mid-thigh. Just going to derby practice shouldn’t mean any issues.
Except that J, J’s eldest daughter, and I went to WallyWorld after practice since they needed to do some dinner shopping. After cultivating some courage during the conference last week, I rolled with the skirt.
The first thing was that I was getting stared at by more than half of the people I encountered. That made me uncomfortable, but J’s daughter was having a blast turning her bitch glare on people who were looking at me. I’m glad she found it cathartic. I wasn’t confronted or anything, but I know I was the topic of a lot of conversations.
That’s kind of a big step for me. I don’t think it’s something I could do by myself quite yet, but I’m still calling it progress. Last year I said that you’d know when I was comfortable being femme by seeing me carry a purse. I do that every day now, so maybe the next thing will be when I wear a dress publicly. I think that will be after I start hormones, though.