It was six years ago this coming Friday, November 16, that I had my legal name change and became Cynthia full time. It's been nearly five years since my life changing surgery. Though my physical healing was unusually delayed, things are back to normal, other than wearing jeans, which still hurt me due to rare nerve damage.
The common 'normal' person would think life would go on without thought at this point, but I still need to seek advice on a regular basis. So much to learn in so little time. But it also becomes harder work, because even after all of this time, I'm still under the spot light. Granted sometimes I'm guilty of putting myself there and sometimes I'm being judged even without my knowing it.
I still dress conservatively casual at work, but yet at times too dressy for some of my co-workers, hence setting myself up for comparisons. Just recently two mid thirty year old women where discussing clothing options and I entered the room for two seconds to drop something. Immediately they stopped pointed to me and said "Ask her, she'll know!" Ummm ladies you've had many more years experience than me, you should know this. But I gave them my honest answer, which was one they hadn't thought of and both agreed without hesitation. A great compliment.
But even at work, where it's rare people comment on another's attire, I'm usually getting some form of comment, 99 out of 100 times positive, but it just shows that all these years later, I'm still under the watchful eye of the 'normal' people. It just makes me have to work harder at preparing myself. But the compliments do make my day.
This past weekend I had to attend a banquet, where being the "it" to a lot of people that don't know me personally, so I knew I had to make sure I was 100% on my game. I couldn't be seen as weak and I had to put my best foot forward. I had to be proud and strong, because I knew there would be more foes than allies in attendance.
I found a new make up look I loved, found a YouTube tutorial to teach myself, spent much time researching different make up companies for exactly what I wanted. Thankfully Ulta had exactly what I was going to need, but yet I still had to ask a good friend's daughter for advice and possible lessons. This girl does amazing make up work. Thankfully she gave me some advice, but I never had to use her training or application services. I tested at work to unsolicited but yet rave reviews.
Even the night before the banquet, despite having many dresses that would have been great for the event, I had to buy a new one to make absolutely sure everything was just right. I pulled out a pair of black patent heels I hadn't worn since the 2008 Oswego Speedway banquet. I was surprised when I opened the box to see they were four inch heels. I couldn't believe I had purchased them for the Oswego banquet but they matched the description on the box...so........
Even the day of the banquet I had a dumb question that I hadn't thought of in six years. Yeah, the answer was semi-obvious but not concrete. I had to ask one of the Mod Chick Mafia her advice. Her advice was perfect. There was no proper answer both options I chose would work fine, but she then added a very key piece of advice. "Wear whatever is going to make you feel the sexiest." Damn, she was spot on. So I did. And I believe it helped me carry my head high, even if no one knew what the changes were but me.
Amazingly even though I've been living six years as a female I still got comments with genuine positive tones and looks "Oh my god, you're wearing a dress!" But quickly followed up with a sincere "You look great!"......The words were sincere and meant a lot to me, but I'm still under the looking glass though. Not to mention I wear dress or skirt to work four out of five days. The fifth day being my volunteer day at the animal shelter, right after work.
That night and the next day I did get many great compliments, all from friends of course. But I did everything I wanted to accomplish. Which was nothing but put my best foot forward and be the myself I always wanted to be. Of course, I naturally left the house twenty minutes later than I had hoped, typical broad
As I put away the four inch heeled patent shoes the next morning, I found the box with the more conservatively one and a half heeled black patent shoes. Those were the ones I had bought for Oswego.........oooppps.
If I pulled everything off perfectly and I should be really happy, even after all of these years, why I have spent the past two days depressed and wanting to cry at even the slightest things??????