A Day of Beauty

By Miranda

As I was reaching my 70^th birthday, the urge to transition was greater than ever.  But now, in retirement, those great reasons to not transition were suddenly gone.  I was not raising a child.  I did not have a career in progress.  There was nothing standing between me and my dream, other than the concern I would look dreadful, and be subjected to harassment or ridicule. 

I knew the femininity was within me, but the masculinity firmly occupied the outside.  For help, I sought out a femininity coach found on a web search.  That turned out to be a dead end lead: there was nobody at that phone number anymore.  But a related link led me to Annaliese.  I figured nothing was too dangerous to talk about it, so I contacted her. Although we first met via Zoom, I decided to see her in person in the Los Angeles area.  I had seen in one of her earlier testimonials that somebody saw her for a day of beauty, after which they went to the airport and flew out in female presentation.  I thought that would be a bit bold for me, but the level of comfort was appealing. And so, en route to yet another city, I added an overnight stop in her area and gave it a try. 

I arrived in town in male mode (and, spoiler, left that way too), but walking around the area to get dinner that arrival night, I passed at least two other trans women walking to wherever they were headed.  They seemed so relaxed, so un-bothered by their vulnerable exposure.  I took it as a good sign. 

The next morning I left my hotel room in female presentation.  Heart racing, feeling fortunate that nobody was in the elevator with me.  But I was sure the lobby would come to a stop the moment I entered.  Yet once there, nobody looked. Annaliese and I met at a wig shop.  I told her the style I was looking for (which was NOT the awful roadkill I was wearing that morning).  Not sure if it was my luck or her skill, but the 2^nd one we tried on was it.  I wore it out of the shop and have relied on it ever since. 

Then, we went to Macy’s where, to my surprise, she had already pulled out about 20 things in my size for me to try on.  She had secured a private dressing room adjacent to an office, so I had no trepidation about seeing other women as I went back and forth.  The key benefit was not in finding clothes that did well for my unfortunate body (barrel chest and football shoulders), but in Annaliese explaining to me how each style was impacting my canvass. 

I learned what to wear and what to avoid.  I said I wanted to blend in as a woman of my age.  She got me there. I made a few purchases before we headed elsewhere for a makeup tutorial.  My own cell phone was mounted into a stand, recording voice and image for each step of the makeover using the makeup I came with.  This was a major benefit because my prior makeovers were entrusted to some scribbled notes or scrambled memory, little of which was later recalled with detail sufficient to achieve the success of the makeup artist. 

Annaliese and I parted company after that appointment.  But she does not know what happened next!  As I walked back to my car, somebody needed help with directions.  To get my attention, the person called out to me, “Ma’am!” I had never before been called “ma’am”.  Yes, we had pulled it off.  It was…to that point…the most gender affirming moment of my life. 

As I drove back to the airport, I stopped to change back to boy mode.  But I thought of that earlier sister who wrote of her decision to leave her day of beauty and fly out as the woman she had become.  And I realized I was comfortable enough to do it too. Right then and there.  I did not, but only because I was not prepared to be received that way at my arrival.

After that arrival, I spent the next ten days in full time femme.  Not the slightest harassment occurred.  I imagine some people clocked me…I noted a double glance or two…but I realized  that Annaliese’s help and the general “invisibility” of older women that, this quickly and suddenly, I was already passing on first glance. Second glance is yet another issue.  I am working on that part.  But when I have questions, now I know I have someone who will answer them.

 Meanwhile, now, at 70, I finally found the way to have the freedom to present myself as the woman I am.  In public.  No hesitations.  No concerns.  Because when you are an “old lady,” very few people are even looking at you anymore. It brought me to the threshold of transition, and allowed me to see there really are no obstacles to walking through that door should that be my choice. 

-Miranda

♥️