Thread by @beloved_june, Back in early November, 2018, about the time I was emailing my [...]

Back in early November, 2018, about the time I was emailing my therapist with the news that I had been out in the world as myself *ten whole times,* I went out on a Saturday night...

The decision to go out was last-minute. I play hockey on Saturday nights, and I usually don’t get home until about 10pm. But it was November 3, and we all got an extra hour of sleep that night on account of daylight savings time...

So I came home from the rink, tossed my bag downstairs &, as quickly as I could manage, showered, did my makeup, & slipped into the first dress I ever owned. It’s black, A-line, retro style, w/a cherry print. It looks amazing with a crinoline underneath, so I put that on, too...

I put on my black kitten heels, new cats-eye glasses, and bright red lipstick. I think I looked pretty good...

(In fact, when I came out to a cishet guy friend for the first time later that month, I showed him photos from that night and he said “you have to stop; I have a thing for rockabilly girls I’m not ready to find you hot.”)

...

I headed out for the Queer Slow Dance at the Dovercourt House in Toronto. Acquaintances of mine had talked about how much they enjoyed these dances, and I had been messaging another trans woman who was planning to be there. We actually never found each other...

I was nervous when I finally got there at about 11:45 pm. But I was determined, especially in those days, to confront my anxieties as directly as possible. And besides, the person selling tickets at the door complimented my dress...

Toronto’s Queer Slow Dance was a lovely event. Everyone got a dance card at the door, and every song was slow. It was sort of like prom, but for a group of people who, if their adolescences were anything like mine, probably didn’t get much out of prom...

It had the welcoming, heartwarmingly eccentric vibe I have since come to expect and appreciate in queer spaces.
But I didn’t know anybody there, so I shyly sat at the edge of the hall twirling the straw in my vodka cranberry.
Until someone asked me to dance...

At the Dovercourt Queer Slow Dance, volunteers ask people to dance who wouldn’t otherwise have partners (like I said - welcoming & heartwarming).
It happened quickly enough that I didn’t think about what was happening until my arms were on my partner’s shoulders...

But, once I started thinking about it, my mind began to race. “Wait,” I thought, “you’ve never been the girl in this situation before. How does it work? Where do you put your hands? How do you move your feet? Why do I have to be so much taller than my partner?...

I started thinking about the last dance I’d attended. I’d been in the band, & stayed on stage all night, except for 1 dance, when a friend coaxed me out on the floor. I was randomly paired with a girl, &, as we danced, I said “I’m really sorry you have to do this with me...”

Suffice it to say, the thoughts going through my mind during this, my first dance as my authentic self, were not cheery and positive. But you know me.

I managed to calm myself, though. “Ok, the sky isn’t falling,” I told myself. Those last words were my mantra in those days.

By now my dance partner & I started making small talk. They had been working that day - a job in retail, as I recall. I think I mentioned I had been playing hockey earlier...

As our conversation continued, I mentioned that I was trying to come to grips with the fact that I’m transgender.

“Yeah,” my partner said. “Me too. I have been thinking about the same thing.”...

This surprised me a bit. My partner was presenting male, and they didn’t go into a lot of detail. I had questions, but between my shyness and the fact most dances are over in about three- and-a-half minutes, I never asked...

I only danced the one dance that night...

I remember afterwards, with my heels clicking down the sidewalk toward my car, thinking “ok, so that was an awkward evening. I didn’t feel great. But I left the house. I felt sort of cute. And it’s important to start building experiences like these as myself...”

I always wondered what happened with my partner. I never got their name. They never got mine.

What would their trans experience look like? Would they tell other people? Would they decide to transition? How would it go if they did?...

I won’t try to summarize everything that’s happened to me since then. I was only out to about a dozen people, though, not on HRT, and maybe had 75 followers on twitter in those days...

I’ve made enormous progress, though, and plenty of amazing people have come into my life along the way. One of those people is @justlaurnow, who invited me to check out the Trans Peer Network online. I logged on for the first time last night and joined in the conversation...

There were about 8 other folks in the chat, & at some point, our conversation turned to height. It’s no secret I’d rather *not* be a 6’1” woman, but I’m learning to enjoy it. I mentioned how, the one time I slow danced with someone, I felt awkward being the taller partner...

I mentioned the Dovercourt Queer Slow Dance, and shared some of the details I’ve written into this thread.

“Wait,” someone said...

“I used to go to those dances! I am pretty sure I was at the November dance in 2018. I was one of the volunteers!”

All the details synced up...

“It was you!”

“I don’t believe it!”

“I have been wondering, ever since that night, how things were for you.”

“I am so happy for you!”

(By now I am starting to tear up...)

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