While browsing a local mall (en femme) and minding my own business, I noticed male employees of a T-Mobile kiosk up ahead staring me down with a rather unpleasant look on their faces. There was what appeared to be a customer being assisted at the time, but their focus was on me. From several meters away, I very clearly heard one of them say “There goes a faggot.” It was spoken louder than the rest of the conversation, indicative of his intent for me to hear it.
I would expect this kind of lowbrow behavior from immature kids and street thugs, but not from on-duty employees and representatives of any business, regardless if their own misguided personal views.
As mentioned in my previous account of browsing the mall en femme, I did not allow their bully tactics to ruin my day. They rattled me and gave me a good scare – good for them. I’m sure they’re very proud of themselves for their juvenile display of aggressive behavior toward a completely harmless person. Nothing has changed though. I’m still me, very happy to be who I am, and a little wiser for the experience.
My reasons for being in therapy are not directly centered around being a crossdresser, although is often brought up as it ties into to many aspects of my life. If being a part time t-girl is not the main reason for being in therapy, then why go to my therapist en femme? The short answer is why not? I’ve been making a point to stretch my legs and get out in public as Gabrielle, and this seemed like another great opportunity to do so.
This is part 2 of attending my high school class reunion as Gabrielle, and reflection upon what took place immediately following. If you haven’t read 