So Here I Am,

sitting on the couch, in my third-ish outfit of the night. Dulcinea is out at a friend’s birthday party, so I’ve had some time to ponder. It’s been a while since I’ve dressed, and I can tell. I’ve been on edge all week, feeling a little depressed and, more often than not, have come home from work with headaches. Now that I’m here, dressed cute and girly, things suddenly seem…brighter, easier. It’s almost like a physical change; seeing Grey in the mirror after a week of drab life does wonders for me, for some reason.

For a while, I was beginning to wonder if all this was just a phase, one of my many passing obsessions, like just about every other “big thing” in my life. But I can’t deny the sense of rightness when I see Grey in the mirror, when I look and feel this way. Soft. Demure. Cute. These are verboten to me in my male world, and only now, as I allow myself to feel these things, do I realize how much they mean to me. I get dressed, and suddenly, I feel…buoyant and real. My headaches fade away; my smile loses its strain.

Cadmus, my brother, commented on my earrings the other day. We were out on a double date with our respective counterparts, eating at a sushi restaurant. Nonchalantly, as if it was just another piece of fish to discuss, he said, “So when did you pierce your ears?” I told him, and that was that, just another shot of bourbon through the barrel. Not the big deal I’d feared it might be. I wonder if he knows why I’m doing all of this—Cadmus is a smart guy, and heaven knows I’ve been sloppy enough to leave clues for him to pick up on. Then again, he can be pretty oblivious, too. I wonder if he’ll take my fluxgender in the same stride he took my pierced ears? A girl can hope.