Sarah's First Night Out

Sarah’s First Night Out By Sarah Goodwoman

Author’s notes: This is my truelife story on going out in public as Sarah for the first time. I have changed the names of anyone else in this story for they do not know I am writing it. I would like to thank Chris for editing it. I just had to post it. I wanted to share my stories with others.

I am Sarah; that is not my real name but I am her. I understand why people would not believe me if I told them in person. My body is not the normal body for someone who is called Sarah but it does not matter if people believe me or not, I am still her.

I woke up early excited for I had a busy day ahead of me. I went to the market held every Saturday at my city town square: to buy some fruit, veggies and couple of household items. Then while there I also was going to get a haircut. There is a lady who sets up a stand at the market who does a great job at getting rid of my spilt ends. I do not let barbers cut my hair, most of them do not know how important my hair being as long as possible is to females like me.

Then as soon as I got home from the market, I had to grab my bags to go catch the train to London. I am so excited for I love that historical city and I am getting my makeup done by a profession. Yes, I am having a makeover and then going clubbing for the first time ever as Sarah.

I got to the market early, most of the stands were not open yet. When I arrived at the haidresser’s, she told me it was going to take about ten minutes for her to set up. I told her I was going to get breakfast and offered to go get her a coffee. She happily told me she would love one.

She cut my hair. I smiled when she said that she would love to have my hair. It is so thick and she would be able to have so many different styles with it. If she only knew that I try to do all those styles as often as I could. If she only knew I love having my hair in rollers, spending that time with my hair in curling rollers is so worth it. My hair always looked great with curls it. It always made me look more like who I am, Sarah.

I got home from doing my mundane errands. I usually did not find them tedious, for I enjoyed taking care of the house, but today they were mind numbingly boring. My loving husband greeted me and told me when I was ready he would take me to the train station.

My husband has always been so supportive of me. Even with this body that holds my essences to this world, he has always seen me as Sarah. It has given me strength to be who I am. It has made it more natural for me to just show others who I am. I do not need to think that my sensitivity is a strength, he helped me ingrain that in my psyche. I would not be sharing this story without his support.

I checked to make sure I had everything I wanted for the trip. I opened my bag and saw the three outfits from which I will pick what to wear while clubbing. My favorite nightgown along with a couple of pair of panties was right next to them. Lastly, I saw my hot curlers along with a t-shirt to wear on the way home.

I told my husband I was ready and we left. My husband was not coming to London with me for he is an introvert. He would not enjoy the loud music, dancing and high drink prices. Even with him not coming with me, he was going to be there in my heart. I knew that I would have an internal conversation with him while I was there. I also knew that we would have that same conversation for real when I got home.

On the train to London a mother with her two daughters sat across from me. It was nice watching them travel. The mom and the youngest daughter just chatting about how much they were looking forward to their big day in London. The older daughter was writing in her notebook all the names of the stop the train was going to make from the LED board.

Her finding pleasure in doing so made me think of a car trip my family went on when I was her age. I kept track of the where we travelled by writing down the names of the cities we passed from our atlas.

I was a little jealous of the mom - I will never be a mom. I am a little too old to adopt and I am barren. I know I do not have a womb, but I see myself as barren. I thought about whether I would have been a good mother. I believed I would have because of how nurturing I am. I also think it would be true for I just think it would feel natural to be the caregiver to a child. I would enjoy helping them grow. I would be so proud of my son or daughter when they took their first step, said their first word. A final thought on why I think I would have been a great mother is I know it would bittersweet for me to see my child become more independent and their own person.

As soon as I got to Waterloo station, I took the tube to drop off my bags where I was staying and spent the day in London. I felt so good just walking the streets. I was only a couple hours away from going out the first time as who I am, how could I not feel good. I also felt good because of my shoes; I was wearing cute ankle boots. They are for females so they do not go with my body but no one noticed. It was amazing how confident I felt just wearing them.

I lovedwalking the streets of London. The city is soaked in history and it is filled with a great variety of people. It is not uncommon to see buskers performing for sightseers, business men on their way back to the office, skateboarders and Buddhist monks at the same moment. Seeing this beautiful hodgepodge of people always reminded me of life's rich tapestry.

I also will say I love seeing the fashion the ladies are wearing. The UK is so much better with fashion than the States. The ladies over here wear dresses and skirts more often than back home in America.

I saw so many great outfits that day. I love it when I see a woman wearing a great outfit for what they are doing or what I think they will be doing. Even with knowing the answer I wonder if I could ever pull off the outfits I like. I know I can’t - I do not have the body for it. It used to bother me that I knew I could not; now it does not. I love the style which I wear when I can let Sarah shine through my exterior.

It was finally time to get my professional makeover and I was nervous. I am something of a nervous person by nature as I am still not used to interacting with strangers who know who I am. I have always played a role in my life so it was easy not to be nervous. I was not being me so I had freedom. Hiding behind a mask made me not care, for people could not judge who they really do not know.

The makeup artist, Maggie, was very kind and helped calm my nerves. We talked a couple of minutes before we started. She told me what to expect at the Way Out Club and not to worry, she would be at my side as much or as little as I wanted.

I showed her the outfits I had and we both decided on the purple and black sheath dress I brought up. Purple is a great color for my skin tone. More importantly I love that color. Wearing purple always made me feel regal and elegant. It made me feel like a princess when I was young and now a queen.

We finally did the makeup. I kept my eyes closed as much as possible. It was not because I was scared of seeing the transformation. I wanted the illusion, it was not a transformation, it was how I should look. I wanted it to be natural for my looks to match who I am.

Maggie was done and I looked. I could not say anything. She asked me what I thought. I told her I was beautiful. That statement was true, I was beautiful, well at least I found myself beautiful and that was what mattered. I wanted my appearance to that of Sarah all the time not for others but for myself.

After she was done with my makeup I did my hair while she worked on the other girl, Zoe, who was going on this escorted trip with us. Zoe was also nervous and while I sat on the couch I helped Maggie calm Zoe down. It just felt natural doing so, and I was so happy for Zoe when I heard her start to laugh and loosen up.

That night was going to be a great night, I could feel it. I could also logically back up that intuition. I was going to be around others who accepted me for being who I am. I could show others who I was not only by actions but by appearance.

I was going to help others also. I could feel I was going to be a social butterfly that night and talk to many girls. I needed to share my story with them but I also needed to hear theirs. People need their story to be heard and understood by others. Not just accepted but also understood.

We made it to the club and I felt so comfortable. There were so many people like me there. I was at home. As we walked in I felt the stares of the men checking me out. Most of the men did not give me that high of a rating, I could just tell by how quick they went to eye the next girl to see if she was worth leering at. One guy kept on looking at me, evidently he liked what he saw. That made me feel good about myself.

Thinking back, that was the first time I was checked out for my look by an entire room. I did not enjoy them doing it but I enjoyed it was done. That is part of being a woman and I want it all. I want the good and bad of being who I am. Being Sarah is not dress up for me, it is just being who I am.

I went to the bar and got the first round of drinks for our group. It felt right when the gentleman next to me said, “Hello, Miss” to me. He asked me my name and I said my male name. I was so disheartened by that. That might be my name but it is not who I am. I quickly corrected myself and told him Sarah.

He could tell I was feeling a little down about saying the wrong name and he told it that was common for girls on their first time out. That people usually answer that question in autopilot mode, not thinking. His drink was served and he wished me a good night.

After a little while I left the group. I took Zoe with me as I wanted both of us to spread our wings and be ourselves with a smaller safety net. She got nervous again for she swore she saw someone from work. I quickly told her that one, he would not recognize her in that stunning outfit and two, even if he did what would he say? “I went to a transgender bar and saw so and so there dressed like a woman”? I used ‘so and so’ for I did not want to use her male name. That was not who she was that night.

Zoe was not a male that night but she is not like me. She has a need to express has feminine side but it is not her. Me, I am a female, my body just does not know it.

Gender is not binary in my eyes, it is a spectrum. It has a titanic range of different categories it can be and we do not have labels for most of them. This is because the more categories we have for the different gender people can be the more boxes we need to be able to put them in. People want to just look and someone and quickly put them in the box which they think they belong in. A body of a man easy puts him in the male gender box.

We only have wto because of our human dichotomy. I think that comes from how our bodies are; most of what we have comes in two. If not we can easily break that organ down into two or a multiple of two. We see the world how we are made.

After Zoe started to laugh about being nervous over nothing she asked me if I wanted to dance. I might be dressed as Sarah for the first time in public but I still was not brave enough to dance sober. I do not think I will ever have the courage to do that.

I went outside to have a smoke and was talking to a new nightlong friend when a man came up to me. He blurted out that I was a crossdresser. I was a little offended for I do not feel like I am a crossdressers, I am transexual. Then he rambled on, easily interchanging the words sissy, transvestite, transgender, and crossdresser. Each one of his sentences had one of those words in it and he used them as nouns, verbs, adverbs and adjectives. When I was finally able to get a word in he moved on. I told him I was married.

He just went down the line talking at the girls. He was not interested in who they were at all. He was just interested in what they were. I thought to myself, “Now that is a fetish.”

I happened to run into to him three more times that night. I was able to help the other girl get away when she showed she wanted to. When he tried to pick up Zoe with me there she told him to go fuck off. I was shocked and she said that was the second time he hit on her and the first time she told him she was not interested in him.

Back to nightlong friends. I am a dreamer and so wanted to make some friends that night. I also knew it was extremely unlikely to happen. Making friends usually takes time and that was one thing none of us had that night. I know it can happen by people just clicking or an important experience shared together but those are rare.

I want people to see me as Sarah, but more importantly I want people to know Sarah. I want people to see my kindness as compassion not being soft. I want people to say I am bitch not outspken. Yes a bicth, I want the good and bad of being a woman.

The night ended and I was high. Before I went I thought that I would not want the night to end but I now was ready for it to end. I wanted to get home and share with my husband everything. I wanted to going to work on Monday for I knew that I would being wearing less of that male mask there. I wanted to continue on my journey in being who I always was. I am Sarah and it does not matter that it is not my name.



If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
up
43 users have voted.

And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks. 
This story is 2780 words long.