Hey everyone from the road!  I’m currently in Tyler, TX visiting my sister for a day.  I’ll be in Dallas later today to spend time with one of my besties, Stacey, and to do a show.

My experiences on the road are not unusual. I have mentioned before that I travel extensively as a comedian and just because. I travel to the South, mostly Arkansas and Texas, on a consistent basis.  I’m from Texas originally, so I know what it’s like but forget.  I say this all the time, but I’m able to “pass” as a genetic female almost everywhere I go.  When I go to convenience stores or markets everyone calls me “Ma’am” and it actually makes smile almost every time. I don’t think my reaction is due to the fact that I wasn’t born with the genitals of the gender I am, but in the fact that I feel like it’s respectful.  As I don’t live in the South and haven’t for a good decade, it’s different.  It feels right. For the most part my life as a woman has been really good.  I fell pretty well adjusted and comfortable in my skin with the exception of my genitals which are  more annoying than anything.

There are two memories that stand out as mile stones during my journey.  The first was when I began to use the women’s restroom. I believe it was just a few years (if not earlier) from when I began estrogen.  It was May, which meant that we had to celebrate my birthday. A few of my friends and I took a few days off work and drove to Las Vegas.  The whole time I used the mens room to do my business.  I had spend a good hour at a penny slot machine, which meant that I had a fair bit of beer in my system.  I left that spot and my friends to run to the restroom at New York, New York. I walked in and did my business in the stalls as always.  As I was leaving a man looked at me strangely. He seemed perplexed that a woman would be in the men’s room. Several hours later we were getting ready to leave Vegas to head back to Los Angeles.  I had to go! My heart started pounding in my chest.  I felt flushed.  What was going to happen?  Was a woman going to scream in terror and yell “A Man!  Help! A Man!”? I took a deep breath and made a beeline for that stall.  The white haired woman washing her hands just smiled at me. That was the first time I went to the ladies room and all the fear left me at that point. I have never had a bad encounter with anyone in the ladies room.

The second story starts on a bus.  I was commuting to work one morning.  I must have been 3 years into my transition (I took the slow route). I woke up that morning, threw on a hoodie, a ball cap and not a stitch of make up.  I grabbed my purse and my phone and rushed to catch my bus to work. I sat down, put my headphones in and shut everything out.  All of a sudden I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Excuse me, do you possibly have a tampon?” the voice said. I must have grinned from ear to ear. “I’m so sorry I don’t.” I said with an unexpected happiness welling up inside. I was more than elated.  It was the first time I felt like a genetic woman.  I passed as genetic female to a genetic female.  I Facebooked that right away and told everyone that I could. After work I rushed to the market and grabbed a box of tampons.  I avowed to keep one in my purse just in case it happened again.

Those were the points that made me feel like the woman I am. Those were the points that affirmed who I am.  Those were the points that made me know that everything was going to be just fine.