Every morning, I wake up in that sort of daze where it feels like it's way too early to be moving around. Most mornings, my fiancée lies beside me. She was still in a pretty deep sleep, and I worried (as usual) about waking her or disturbing her. I quickly whipped the duvet off myself while doing my best to keep her cosy. I took the phone from the pillow beneath my head and read the time. '9:04 AM' read the transgender-themed lock screen. No notifications as of yet, though surely some to come.
I started down in the kitchen. I always start with breakfast. I think it's just because it gets me thinking, or maybe it's due to years of habitually doing nothing before eating. Food was and is always priority number one, unless I'm too unwell to eat. Thankfully, there is no such case this morning. I prepared a bowl of Weetabix and ate it on the couch in the kitchen. They weren't put there by me - my living situation isn't the easiest to explain. In short, this is my home but I don't own or control it. Lodging, if you will. But I do pay. I'm no freeloader.
Cereal and biscuits down, the shower was next. I washed everything save for my hair. I only wash my hair a maximum of twice a week. It's ridiculously curly regardless, and twice is enough to keep it clean and shiny.
Stepping out from my invigorating wash, the cold air in the bathroom cut through me like a sharpened knife. I hurried to wrap the yellow towel around my shoulders and down, like an oversized cape. I dried off very quickly considering the actual temperature in the bathroom.
Today was one of those rare appointments I get with the gender clinic. I decided that I definitely wanted to dress feminine but didn't know exactly what. Once my underwear was on, I ignored the possibility of a bra. My development is nothing near the sort where one of those is required, and it tends to be nothing more than a vacuum in my chest for all the heat to build up. The result is that my chest will itch almost infectiously. It'll then spread throughout and the hot flushes... yeah, not comfortable at all. I like being warm, but not too warm. Wearing a bra often means I'm too warm.
My tights were on and pulled up to the highest extent they can be, while also gathering all the material under my waist. If it goes higher, the waistband digs in and makes sitting uncomfortable. Today's t-shirt was one of several I got at Christmas via my fiancée's family. She obviously gave them all the intel on what I like and what I would wear. The shirt itself features 'Eevee' with a bunch of signposts in the various colours and patterns of the different evolutions - Eevee has 8 of them. For those who don't know Eevee, it's a Pokémon. I'm that sort of girl.
I paired it with a plain, dark-blue denim skirt, darker than my other blue ones but lighter than my black one. It's an easy option that goes with anything - even my pink Barbie hoodie I picked up in Italy, as it turns out from today's look.
Makeup is not a long process anymore. I was about 10 minutes in all. All I do is set a base of foundation, even it out with bronze and blush of various shades, coat it all with glitter, and then all my attention goes on eye makeup. Today, I went pink with four-pronged eyeliner. I love when my eyes look as if they could fly. My eyeliner is actually just black eyeshadow. It's far easier to work with, and to get rid of if you mess up.
Makeup mostly sorted, I cleaned my teeth with very salty toothpaste (they say it's good for gum and teeth health) and returned to the vanity to gloss up my lips. There is very little point to me doing this and yet, I always do.
That whole pandemic thing from 4 years back now was an interesting time for the use of masks. They went from a very niche thing to something everyone had to have on them. I... haven't really left that state. I tell other people it's because the weather is really cold. I explain that I wear one to keep my face warm. While that's true, it's not the full picture. I don't like people seeing me that often. Especially strangers. I despise unknowns looking at me, passing judgment and grading whether I "pass" or not. I know very few realistically hold me to such a standard, but I can't detach myself from the relative possibility of being outed. So no, I'll keep wearing my mask until I'm happy enough not to. In summer, it will likely be harder to get away with that 'warmth' excuse. I may just have to bare it more, and woman up a little!
YOU ARE READING
Diary Of This Autistic Transgirl
Non-FictionI have too many thoughts not to put them somewhere. You might like it. It might help you. It might also explain the sudden halt to my writing.
