In Scotland I think Hogmanay is a bigger celebration than Christmas.  There are ceilidh dances, street parties and house parties up and down the nation and the government encourages it because the ridiculous amount of alcohol that gets consumed is backed up by the fact that both the 1st and 2nd of January are considered public holidays.

It has been quite a few years since I have gone out on New Years, this year there were some tentative plans made with friends, but they fell by the wayside as cost and budgets refused to allow it. I considered briefly whether or not I would be brave enough to go down to Edinburgh or somewhere else for the street party as Dee, but immediately decided I was not brave enough, and being in a big crowd entirely alone and possibly paranoid just did not seem like a good idea. My eldest sister said that she was not doing anything for New year other than getting a takeaway, but I was welcome to go down and join her. I took her up on the offer and we ate a lovely chinese takeout, played trivial pursuit and watched the last leg and the big fat quiz of the year, none of the traditional Scottish Hogmanay programs, but it was really nice.

She asked if I had confided in mum about being trans yet and I admitted that I just couldn't bring it up in conversation, possibly because I struggle to find the words to describe my feelings, but also because once I tell my mum the risk of being outted before I am ready increases dramatically. 

I talked about wearing wigs and how I am struggling because I feel I need to wear one, and many of the ladies I have seen online have no issue with them, but because nothing else chemically has changed it makes me feel more like I am playing at dressing up rather than allowing the world to see me as I want to be seen. She pointed out that there are plenty of cis women who wear wigs, including my ex wife for a while after undergoing chemo and no one batted an eye at them.

She also showed me the before and after photos of one of her trans friends who had just had facial hair removal and hormones and looked completely feminine, there was no sign of the rough looking guy from beforehand.

Then as we hugged at the bells, I thanked her for being a wonderful sister and she replied, "ditto".  It makes me well up even now thinking about it. She has no idea just how validating it is to hear her acknowledge who I am, even in that one word.

It was the best start to 2020.

This morning we got up and went out to a 5km parkrun, it hurt and felt horrible at the time, but is also something I have never done before and is a good indicator of how I want this year to go.

On my way home I stopped in at a friends house and we caught up for a few hours, I edged around my gender questioning, but went into great depths about peeling back layers and masks, I know they would be very supportive, but I haven't seen them in person for 5 years so it seemed a bit too much too soon considering I just turned up at their house!

I am now sat in my nighty having painted my nails bright red wondering if I can go out for a walk as me somewhere tomorrow and try out my new scarf.  It may be a fleeting feeling, but it is quite nice to just feel like myself for the moment.

💅👸💋💖