Worry less and do more


Last night was time for Chameleons, and while I’ve managed to remove all traces of my rather nice, silver nail polish. I’ve not done such a good job, shifting the bike oil. Luckily, I’m not a closet bicycle repairman, I’m not sure I could handle the stress. Hiding your overalls, making sure your fingers are free from oil and being able to walk by a tool rack, without looking wistful….. Okay, that’s enough with that silliness. 🙂

On Wednesday, I was both unpacking and repacking my night out bag. Time had run away with me and while I’d remembered to hang up my wig, the rest of last time’s items, were still carefully folded up. There I knelt, looking at a few key items and then I had one of those little moments. You may, or may not, have had one. The shoulders drop a little, you let out a sigh and ask yourself Why am I doing this?

Suspending political correctness for a moment, lets look at some harsh facts. I’m a bloke, a little on the non-thin side, balding and I’m sat pondering what women’s clothes, I’ll be wearing, in a community centre, for all of three to four hours. When doubts like that creep in, I guess I can see why some people, may be a little baffled by why we trans folk, do what we do. Hell, I still can’t explain it.

When things like this happen, I push the negative thoughts aside, finish what I’m doing and then go have a cup of tea. Yes, I am British: so sue me 🙂 I’m sure there would be less trouble in the world, if we could all take a moment, have a brew and think things through a little more. Not, that that has helped the English, we seem to have invaded, or been a war with most countries on the globe. 🙂

Doubts aside, I made my way up to Nuthall and bumped into Pat and Kim, in the upstairs changing room. Despite an issue free chest strimming at the start of the week, my body decided to save up a break-out for Thursday morning. Yeah, thanks immune system. You still narky there’s pollen about? 🙂 To top is off, my love of pies and lack of exercise – more on that later – has meant that a favourite ditzy print dress, is not going to fit Yours Truly, unless I get my (lardy) arse into gear….

[ …which explains the oil marked fingernails. I’ve been repairing my bike, after going for a ride and the chain snapped. Still, I did get a good long walk and I didn’t have to carry my bike home. Small mercies eh? 🙂 ]

Plan B was a floaty top (no, you can see what looks like the Eye of Sauron on my chest) and that didn’t work, so Plan C: mum-nextdoor-shirt, shorts and footless tights…. which, although this felt a bit Last Chance Saloon, I was pleased with. Funny how you have to make do and are then happy with the result. Hobson’s Choice, perhaps? 🙂

I had a good chat with a few of the new visitors and a really long chat with one girl, Vicky, about role-playing games and her background. Sometimes, it’s like that, you just get talking and off the conversation goes. I also sold Kim my old wig, the long brown one that just wasn’t quite working for me. Of course, it looked fab on her – and I’m not saying that for the sale. She seemed happy with it.

After that, it was time to tidy up, then retreat to the stairs for a quick photo or nine (thanks Val!), before locking the place up.

All in all, well worth the faffing about.

Take care,


  1. I agree Lynn, I get those feelings a lot: a really fat, unconvincing 'bloke' trying to pretend. But then something transformative happens when I spend time as Rhiannon. I might be fooling no-one, but inside the sense of wellbeing, rightness and frankly the internal sigh of relief is overwhelming sometimes. What could be said by others is hurtful and scary, but I know that it couldn't feel more right and that in reality I desperately need this more. Thank you, as ever, for your great blog x

    1. When you said about the sense of wellbeing and rightness, that had me nodding my head in agreement. For me, at least, its as if, the presentation – so, much more than clothes – matches a bit of what goes on in my head. So, for a while, I forget I'm usual very bloke-like and while I will not be female, I will feel like me, expressing myself fully.

      I think that makes sense and thanks for the kind words.

  2. Likewise, I definitely turned up in 'why am I doing this'. Probably more likely to feel that way on the lighter evenings where I'd really much rather be out running. But I'd been feeling pretty low and the fact is that the evening did lift my mood and, after a while, the real Claire came out which was definitely a good thing. Trouble is I know I can't get to the next one as I've got my parents staying for the week so I dread to think what sort of state I'll be in by another two weeks after that.

    1. A choice between getting all hot & bothered and wrecking your feet, or coming to Chameleons. 🙂 Exercise is great for the mind, I think. A good long walk certainly helped me keep the Black Dog at bay, all those moons ago.

      Glad you made the effort, so we got to say hi, even if it was brief and like you, I'll be missing the next meeting too. Let's hope we don't go postal! 🙂

  3. I have to admit I'm not at my chattiest whilst I'm getting changed so you didn't hear much from me then. Things do change once I've finished and feel able to be myself.

  4. If you want the figure of a girl, then the diet is part of the master plan as well, so no more pints, pies etc and welcome salards. Throw in some decent exercise, yoga, walking and you will get there.

    1. Sounds like I'm a little way there, just not doing enough. Yes, on the lack of pints and pies, plus walking and biking. Not so much on the yoga or salads. My weakness is snacking during the evening.

  5. Indeed why. Because.

    Preparations always take a bit of planning and effort and it can seem a bit pointless until it all comes together. A sort of delayed hit that is all the better for being waited for.
    Asfor the pies, a _little_ of what you like does you good. Me, I'm like Oscar Wilde; I can resist everything apart from temptation. Hmmm…

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