Women's Group, Part 2

The idea of being able to participate in the church women’s group was much in my thoughts over the next few weeks.  Although it would mean outing myself to even more people, I felt like it was an opportunity not to be missed.  I talked it over with my wife to make sure that she was OK with it; after all, some of the women attending the group no doubt welcomed the time away from their husbands or boyfriends.  But my wife, bless her, was fine with it, and also thought it would be a good opportunity for me.  And it worked out well for her, as she has trouble driving at night, and would now have a built-in carpool buddy.  We might not even be the only couple in attendance, as there were several lesbian couples in the church.

My biggest fear was that some women might resent me attending, if they saw me as a male invading female space.  So far I had not experienced anything but support and acceptance from my fellow congregants, but it seemed too good to be true.  I suppose I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.  To help manage my fear, I chose to wait a couple of months until a friend who had attended the Q&A was hosting the group.  I also communicated my intent to attend to several other women who I knew were supportive, asking them to send positive vibes my way.

When the day finally arrived, left work early and got home in plenty of time to get ready.  I chose a fuchsia peasant blouse, khaki capris, and my trusty Naot sandals, in case you were wondering.  My wife was not feeling well, so I expected to have to go alone, but she felt better after a nap and decided to go.  So by the time she got ready and I made a trip to the grocery store for a vegetable tray to take with us, we were running about half an hour late.  As it turned out, that was OK; most of the women arrived just after we did—UUs are not known for their promptness!

Our hostess greeted us on her porch with hugs and kisses.  She was careful to call me Wendy, though she later slipped up and called me by my male name a couple times, quickly correcting herself each time.   Similarly, the other women who knew about me beforehand made sure to call me Wendy right off the bat.  Another woman I knew said, “I don’t think we’ve met,” and introduced herself, though I thought she already knew who I was.  I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just said, “I’m Wendy” and gave her a big smile.  More women and lots of food arrived, and soon I was sipping wine, munching snacks, and listening to the conversations around me.  After a while we all sat around the dining room table and introduced ourselves in turn.  I think by the time this was over everyone there knew my secret identity, though no one made mention of it or acted surprised.  It was not hard for anyone to put two and two together, I’m sure, particularly as my wife and I kept referring to “our” new house.

After a while we went to the backyard and sat around a fire, roasting marshmallows and talking.  I really didn’t say much; I only spoke when spoken to, more or less.  Instead I listened and frequently laughed with everyone else.  It was interesting that gender roles/differences came up, as some of the women were talking about their kids’ stereotypically gendered behavior and interests.  Also, crossdressing came up, as someone talked about a teen boy who attended a costume party as Frank ‘N’ Furter and impressed all the girls by wearing heels the entire time.  I didn’t see any evidence that anyone was referring obliquely to me in any way, though.  In fact, I didn’t feel as if I was treated any differently than anyone else.  When we got ready to go, the hostess told me that she hoped I came to all the women’s group nights from now on, which was wonderful to hear. 

She sent me a nice email later on, saying that several women who were there that night expressed joy that I was there, and that I was a good influence on the church community.  I was so grateful—and ready for more!  I wanted to keep going, increase my comfort level, and start interacting more with the other women.

Just before heading to women's night, November 2010.

Since that first time I have attended several women’s nights (the above p.  I have yet to experience anything other than total acceptance.  The biggest issue that I have run into is that many women don’t recognize me, even if they know me well in my male guise.  So they will come up and introduce themselves to me, and I find myself at a loss for what to do.  They didn’t cover this in the transgender training manual!

My default behavior in Wendy mode has always been to pretend that I’m 100% woman with no male identity, and to try to blend into the background as much as possible.  While this may be a good strategy for survival out in the general public, it doesn’t work so well in the women’s group.  I feel that for me to introduce myself to a friend as Wendy and leave her to figure it out is unkind and could be construed as an attempt to deceive her—though I do admit that I enjoy the look of wonder that comes when people do figure it out.  I find it very difficult and frightening to say something to the effect of, “Hi, I’m Wendy, but you know me better as -----“, but that’s what I feel would be right and proper.

Fortunately, as I work this issue out, I have to my knowledge not offended anyone because of it.  A while back I was pulled aside after church by a woman I have known for nearly ten years.  It took her two women’s nights two months apart to realize who this Wendy actually is, even though I had talked to her face-to-face both evenings.  She seemed a little embarrassed that it took her so long to figure it out; she had been wondering if I had a twin or something like that.  I told her that I hoped she didn’t think I was trying to be mysterious and explained how I find it difficult to explain all this to people.  She assured me that I don’t need to explain myself to anyone, that she thought I was a very dear and special person.  Needless to say, I was tickled pink and looking forward to the next women’s night!