The wrong trousers

David Thomas’s transgender diary

So, there I was, one day to go before I had to go up to London to show my surgeon how the face he had given me was getting on. I’d finally accepted that I didn’t look as horrendous as I’d feared.

Still, before I exposed myself to a two-hour train journey in a crowded carriage, then the cheek-by-jowl crush on the Tube, I needed evidence that I could actually get away with facing the world in broad daylight as a woman.

I had two errands to run. I needed to buy some food for the weekend, and there was a small package (a Dior Rouge lipstick, as it happens) waiting for me at John Lewis. So there was my Mission

Impossible, and I chose to accept it.

On went a simple knee-length skirt given to me years ago by my friend Lucy Lunt – thank you, darling! – a baggy jumper with a chunky bead necklace and an olive/khaki cagoule. I got in my Golf, drove to the retail park feeling only mildly terrified and parked the car.

I took a deep breath, cast one last glance in the mirror and got out. The next thing I heard was a female, Eastern European voice saying, ‘Car wash, madam?’

I smiled politely, said, ‘No thank you,’ and just managed to resist the overwhelming desire to pump my fists and shout, ‘Yeeeesssss !!!! ’ Then I went and did my shopping. And absolutely nothing happened. Everything went just as it always does. I got my food. I loaded my trolley. And I somehow messed up the selfservice checkout, because no matter how many times I use it, there’s at least a 50 per cent chance that I will do something wrong and lights will start flashing and I’ll end up apologising to the staff member who has to come and sort it all out. Which she did. Twice. And that was great. Other shoppers paying me no attention at all was absolutely ideal. Because, as I’ve said before, the whole purpose of going to all the insane, obsessive lengths I’ve taken to transform my appearance is to look as completely normal, even invisible, as possible. I specifically don’t want to turn heads.

Off I went to John Lewis. My task there was simpler than the food shopping because I only had to get one object. On the other hand, in order to do so, I had to speak to an assistant, who would be no more than a couple of feet away from me. So that was two challenges: get my voice right and survive a closequarters inspection.

And, once again, the entire transaction was entirely normal. I dictated my name and reference number, which were tapped into the assistant’s hand-held gizmo. He fetched my parcel, he wished me good day, and I left.

It was just an everyday errand. But ‘everyday’ was everything. As I drove home, a tummy-flipping, ecstatic whoosh of emotion welled up in me that I can only compare to the thrill of that moment when you suddenly realise you’re in love.

I got home, took my shopping upstairs and then rushed right back down again. It was a cold, crisp, sunny morning, and the South Downs were looking even more ravishing than usual. So I popped in my ear-buds, turned on my itunes, which happened to be set to a playlist of classic Elton John tracks, and took a walk along the path that leads from my house up into the hills, dancing as I went to the songs in my head.

I climbed to the top of the first rise, from which there’s a glorious view out across the Channel towards the Isle of Wight. And then, because the hills really were alive to the sound of music, and I felt as joyous as Julie Andrews, I stuck out my arms and twirled around, making myself feel even giddier than I already did.

All my life I’ve wondered whether there might be a better, happier way for me to live. For the past five years, I’ve staked everything on that bet. And suddenly, all my questions had been answered.

I’m doing the right thing. I’m absolutely sure of it. Of course, there will be more pain, more uncertainty, more moments of despair in the months and years to come. But I will get there in the end. And everything it has taken will prove to be worthwhile.

I felt as joyous as Julie Andrews, I stuck out my arms and twirled around, making myself feel even giddier than I already did