GRS Diary: Day 106 – Return from Thailand – Three Stupid mistakes and Second ‘Three mile high’ dilation.

My last evening was lovely – a number of us went out to the Red Chair restaurant, which is a few dozen metres from the hotel and is known for doing good local street food.

I spent the rest of the evening with different groups talking, but ended up staying up till 3am talking with Dani, a woman that I’d become close to over the last week.

Unfortunately, I needed to get up at 5am to dilate, finish packing and do my makeup. I felt like death as I got into the Supornmobile and was chauffeured to the airport.

The first mistake

Check-in was lovely. The letter that Dr Suporn gives requests a wheelchair and spells out the situation downstairs.

This seemed to trigger maternal nature in the check-in staff who were lovely. She asked me to sit for a moment while the wheelchair came and as I approached the chair, I looked to my empty hand for my horseshoe shaped cushion and my mind was transported to the back seat of the car, now speeding away from the airport, where I’d left it. Over the last few days, I’d been dabbling with not using it, but the idea of a 13 hour flight without it was daunting.

Read on to the second mistake…

Three little rays of sunshine from the universe: A good “passing” week

After my last, quite miserable post, I’m trying to be more positive and be happier despite my physical situation. I think the universe is sending me some positivity – I had three little things happen which made me feel marginally better.

The whole concept of “passing” (as a woman) is something that I dwell on less and less. At the beginning I was very anxious about getting inside everyone’s head and worrying about how they perceived me. Now I mostly don’t worry much unless I get specifically misgendered or I get one of those deep, invasive stares; Which sucks.

However, recently I’ve been feeling so physically unattractive due to the surgical recovery that I’ve felt kind of sub-human. Like some kind of hunched, goblin slowly creeping down the street. I think this is compounded by the fact that people tend to look through sick people; we are somehow inherently unattractive to want to look at and so they sort of disregard us.

However, I’ve been trying to make an effort in terms of my appearance here & there especially when going to work or meeting someone.

1. Looking at the trousers and not me

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On Monday, I was wearing almost exactly this outfit. Top with these wide leg trousers. I’ll never look like her, but it felt good; Femme, but not classic wearing-a-dress femme; Confident. I walked out of the house and went to the bus stop and saw someone look at me. Her eyes saw my face and physique and moved on with disinterest, then saw her stare more acutely at my trousers and shoes. Whilst one can never know what a person is thinking – it utterly seemed like she saw just another woman and was far more interested in the outfit she was wearing, compared to back at the beginning where I stuck out like a sore thumb. I suspect this is 50% physical changes and 50% carrying oneself with confidence and having a stronger sense of identity. Either way it was another little reminder that I made it to the other side.

2. Offered an ‘essential’ test

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