Let’s get the boilerplate stuff out of the way first. Today, I administered my sixteenth shot in my right thigh. As mentioned before, I am posting the shot location so I don’t have to wonder week from week which leg I did last. Still, nothing special is happening body-wise. I am becoming more comfortable with my clothing and my body. I am wearing my wig full-time now, and I do not plan to change until my hair gets at least another three inches.
On to big news, on January 12th, I made my second appearance in public as a woman. I went to a drag show by myself. I cannot begin to describe how nervous I was. I knew everyone was staring at me and making fun of me. Of course, this is not true. There were many people there, and I did not know anyone, and I was too scared to mingle with anyone. One of the performers approached me before the show and introduced herself. Her name is X. We talked for about ten to fifteen minutes, but she had to do her show. As I found out, she planned to talk to me after the show; she could tell that I was finding myself and wanted to give any encouragement she could offer. I left the show early because the nervousness was too much for me. I figured I would see her again. I did not know that Arkansas would pass the drag show ban in a couple of weeks, and the next show, along with all others, would be canceled. I did not know her, so I did not consider it.
Let’s jump to the third week of May or, to be more precise, the Friday before. I decided to check out dating apps; I am still not sure what I will do there, but that is a story for another time. I create an account on Plenty of Fish but don’t touch it much. This past Friday, I opened it, and they have a section for streaming videos, and who do I see? Yep, the lovely lady who talked with me at the drag show. She invited me to join the stream, which I did, and we had a blast. I friended her on Facebook and asked if she wanted to hang out on Sunday. She came to my house, and we discussed many Trans issues. She told me that she felt she knew me from somewhere else, but I was sure that she did not know me previously. During our three-and-a-half-hour visit, she mentioned her dead name only once, but I tend to remember these things. Later during our talk, she mentioned that her dad is a professional something(Did you think I would tell you.). I stopped the conversation and said Wait. Your dead name is X, and your dad is professional; is that correct? She said yes. I asked, what was your last name. She paused a second and told me. I immediately said we used to work together, and I came to your house to play games and get on the computer. She jumped up and said my dead name, I, of course, jumped up and hugged her back. Oh my GOD, what are the chances? We were around 20 to 24, both “straight” men hiding who we were. We lost touch after she went to take a new job. Throughout the years, whenever I drove by her house, I would tell people I had a friend who lived there named X. I wonder what happened to them. Like Paul Harvey, I now know the rest of the story.
I love you, sister, and I am so glad we found each other.
Alla Davis
