I have been feeling reflective this morning. (I know, what else is new)

It has been a whirlwind of a week and so after I got my son off to school I simply went to bed for an hour or so and dozed. Well, that's not totally true, I changed out of my dad pj's into a cotton nighty and went back to bed and dozed - I didn't even think about it.

Then when I decided to stop being too lazy and get up I tried to decide what to wear, technically today was my day off so I thought... why not attempt to wear something pretty again.

I was apprehensive because of how badly my mood had plummeted last time.

So I put an outfit together, and decided that while there was nothing wrong with the blouse itself I looked fugly in it.  This is the same blue blouse I wore on my night out at that Pride weekend over a year ago!

I took it off dejected and stared in the mirror for a couple of minutes, and then mentally decided sod it - try again. This time I took out a pair of cullotes that I have not worn before and then a plain red top that has some patterning on the 3/4 length sleeves.

I had a quick shave and decided to put one of my wigs on and this time I smiled at myself looking back.

I plugged in my Dee phone so I could take a selfie, because it is these little moments of bliss thta I try to remember and then noticed that my manphone was flashing and my ex wanted to video call.

For the second time I sighed, took off my clothes and wig and slipped into a hoody and joggers.  The call was a courtesy call because she is supposed to be remarrying next week and she had not been in touch about how our son was going to get down to her or when, nor when they were going to come back up so I could see my daughter.  I already knew thgrough conversations with my son that his granny intends to come up, stay the night on Friday and then head down the road with him the next day. I have always gotten along fine with her, and it does make sense with the hours of driving, but it is easy to see where my ex gets some of her more selfish traits from.  Telling my 13 year old Autistic son is not the same as asking me if it is okay.  Though honestly I just made a mental note to remove my pink toenail varnish before Friday.

My daughter had also needed a Covid test due to displaying symptoms at school (which also put my exes wedding at risk), but thankfully that has turned out to be negative and is just a sore throat and cold.

Once the video call had finished I was sat wondering if it was worth the hassle of getting changed again.  My inner voice told me that I have 4 hrs until my son comes home, it is my day off, why not dress as myself for a while?

So I have...

This time I did not critique my appearance in the mirror, although I did add just a smidge of matte lipstick, for no other reason than I wanted to, the women in my family do not tend to wear makeup everyday, or at most just wear mascara and maybe lipgloss, and that seems to be where I am heading too.

I chuckled to myself a little because it is only 2 years ago that if I was at home alone I would be excitedly changing into some slutty outfit to make myself feel good, knowing full well that once I was done I would shamefacedly be hiding it all away again. I am still dressing to make myself feel good, but in a completely different way.

I like being DeeDee, yes I like the look and feel of these clothes, but I could just as easily wear them to an office as I could to a coffee shop or for a wander down the high street.

The sense of reliefe is totally different. The shame when I need to change is directed at the need to go back to the dad clothes because it feels like I need to shut myself away once more and even thinking about that makes me sigh inwardly as I think about the fact that really I am just putting another mask back on.

My birthday is coming up this month and even though I know with Covid nothing can happen I whistfully revisted the idea of putting together a halloween costume I nearly wore once years ago when I still saw myself as a man and thought about how great it would be to put a proper outfit together and go to a party as Velma before letting my friends know that actually the guy they know is more of a costume than the one I was wearing, but I suppose that can wait for another day, like when I have started to stride purposefully down that path instead of tiptoe cautiously.