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Some Errands and a Church Service Part 2


This post is part two of a two-part series:

  • Part 1
  • Part 2 (You are here)

Church Parking Lot
I had completed all of my outings in time to be able to go to the church.  My wife asked me not to be out late.  I decided I would only be able to stay for a class before the church service.  Their web site called the classes “small groups”.  I pulled into the parking lot.  I found a parking space.  I felt tense, but I do not think I was afraid.  I was not trembling like I sometimes do.  I did forget to change into my heels.

My only preconceived notions that I have of this kind of church are based on some neighbors I used to have.  They always came home from church well dressed in suits and ties and dresses.  I could hear the wife play old, traditional hymns on the piano in their apartment.  My wife and I loved it.  We would sing along.  Because of that family, I assumed that this church would be very traditional, and very conservative.  They might allow me to attend, but the might not be comfortable with me.  Somehow, that expectation did not stop me from wanting to attend the church.  I had even worked out in my mind how to politely leave if they said I could not stay.

Greeter in the Lobby
I got out of my car and started walking through parking lot.  I thought, “What am I doing!?”  Then I thought, “Oh, I forgot to change into my heels!”  At the very moment when I put my hand on the door handle, I saw a woman in the lobby look at me through the glass door.  She was a greeter.  I sensed a moment of hesitation in her while I opened the door.  Then, she welcomed me and walked up to me.  There were a few other people in the lobby.  One of them, a man, approached me.  I think he was also a greeter.

I told the woman that it was my first visit to her church and that I wanted to attend a small group.  She welcomed me and she asked the man to take me to a class.  He started asking questions to figure out what would be the best class for me.  Then, off we went.  I thought, “Wow, this is not very different from going to church in pants.”  The man and I talked as we walked to the classroom.

Up to this point, I felt as exposed and as obvious as a loudly ringing bell.

Small Group Class
The man who was guiding me took me to a classroom and introduced me to the three older people in the room.  There were two quiet men, and there was one rather chatty woman.  I awkwardly sat on the aisle seat in the next-to-last row of chairs.  The woman talked to me non-stop.  A few others came in.  They did not speak to me.

At one point, the chatty woman said, “There she is.”  A tall woman in a pretty blue dress came in.  She sat down in front of me and started talking to the chatty woman.  I realized quickly that this person might be transgender.  She was about 60 years old.  She had long, natural hair.  They talked for a few minutes about nothing in particular.  Then the lady in the blue dress left the room.

Others came in.  I started thinking, “Would anyone be comfortable enough to sit on my row?”  I was on the aisle seat, so they would have to walk past me to do it.  Eventually, a man did join me on my row.  He sat on the opposite end, by the wall.  There were two chairs between us.  The teacher arrived.  He never greeted me, but he did greet some others.  I said, “Good morning,” to him later when he walked by me.  Then he spoke to me.  Later, he gave me a book so I could participate in the class.

A Bold Handshake That Meant A Lot
The class started about fifteen minutes after the website said that small groups started.  Therefore, I sat in a room of people for twenty minutes waiting and socializing.  At the beginning of class, a 55 year old woman entered and sat across the aisle from me.  By the time she had gotten settled, the teacher was teaching.  This woman reached over and offered to shake my hand across the aisle in front of everyone.  I felt warm and happy during, and after, that handshake!

Someone Sat By Me
The class continued and people kept arriving.  The seats were filling up.  Many women were dressed like me.  I was not overdressed.  That is rare!

Another man entered and sat on my row.  There was an empty seat between us.  I reached out and shook his hand.  He quietly told me his name.  I will call him “Peter”.  Later a man and his wife arrived.  There were no more pairs of seats available.  Peter moved and let them sit on my row.  The woman sat by me.  Then, her husband sat in the other seat.  She was wearing a pretty, bold patterned skirt as well.  I liked sitting by her.  She never interacted with me during class.

Class continued.  Many people contributed to the discussion.  Others arrived.  Every chair in the room was eventually filled.  There were about 25 people in the room.  I never spoke during the class.  Interestingly, neither did the chatty woman.

Friendly People After Class
Class ended.  The woman beside me introduced herself to me.  I will call her “Mary.”  While I was still seated, a woman from behind came to me and put her hand on my shoulder.  I had to turn and look up at her.  She was smiling warmly.  She welcomed me.  Another woman from the back row also gave me a friendly smile from a distance.  I cannot remember how many people welcomed me after class.  It was from 4-6 people.  Interestingly, most people who spoke to me patted me on my arm or shoulder.

I waited in the back of the room for some people to walk out.  I needed someone to lead the way to where to go next.  A woman walked up to me.  She also welcomed me.  I told her that I loved her outfit.  She thanked me.  People were leaving, so I started moving toward the door.  That last woman who welcomed me spoke to me as I was leaving.  She was looking at my outfit.  She told me, “I really like that skirt.”  I thanked her and told her how I also loved it.

I walked out of the door.  Down the hall, two 13 year old girls were socializing.  One saw me.  There was a moment of surprise on her face.  She saw me looking back at her.  Then, she smiled very pleasantly at me.  Peter walked out of the classroom after I did.  I asked him if he could tell me where the men’s room was.  He said he would show me.  We walked along together talking.

We turned into a hallway.  People were walking toward us.  So, imagine this: Peter was walking down the hall, talking to a man in a skirt, while his peers were walking toward us.  I was mostly at ease by this point, so I was rather comfortable with this.  The people walking toward us were not sure how to respond, I think.  They were having a conversation.  They looked at me and vaguely smiled.  I greeted them.  They greeted me.  They kept talking.  Peter and I kept talking.  We passed.

Mens Restroom
We entered the men’s room.  Peter went to his place, and I went to a stall.  I have to use a stall because it is complicated to use the men’s room in a skirt and shapewear and pantyhose.  I was not going to go through that awkward process at a urinal!

Peter finished and left.  Other men entered the restroom.  I finished and went to the sink to wash my hands.  I really did not care that there were other men in there.  That was a big change from the first time I used a busy public men’s room in a skirt!  It was not much more uncomfortable than just being around strangers in general.  When I was at the sink, I realized that the two other men were from my class.

Mary’s husband was one of the men.  He started talking to me.  He asked if I was new to the area, etc.  We walked out of the men’s room talking.

Seeing the Greeter Again
I returned to the entrance where the greeter first spoke to me.  She was still there.  This time, she had no hesitation.  She walked right up to me and started telling me where to go to next.  I told her that I could not stay.  She expressed disappointment and told me that it was going to be a special service because the next day was Easter.  I wanted to stay.  I decided, I would go and see ten minutes of it before leaving.

She told me where to go.  As I walked the circuitous path to get there, I found that I was walking through the children’s wing.  I normally try to avoid children when I am crossdressed.  Fortunately, only three children around the age of three or four saw me.  They noticed me.  After that, I did not see any kids in the children’s wing.  They were gone because it was almost time for the main service to begin.

Into the Sanctuary
I entered the lobby outside of the sanctuary.  A woman handed me a bulletin.  She welcomed me in.  I walked in and sat on the back row so I could exit early and not cause draw much attention to myself.

There was a countdown on the projector.  Some people greeted me as they entered.  Some of them patted me on my shoulder.  Either people seemed happy to see me, or they ignored me.  One man, however, walked by giving my outfit a long look.  That was the only negative reaction I received.

A song began.  A family from my class joined me.  I scooted toward the aisle so they could fit to my right.  There was one seat between me and a man.

After the first song and the announcement time, I told the man to my right that I was going to leave during the next song.  I told him that I did not want him to think it was because he was sitting there.  He smiled and said he understood.  He added that they were visitors.  I said I was too.  He said, “Well, I am sure that you are welcome.”

Goodbye to the Greeter
I left during the next song.  I went back to the entrance.  The greeter woman spoke to me again.  There was a man there as well.  He was the first man who sat on my row in my class.  We all three talked for a few minutes.  She told me to come back when I am in town.  I think her exact words were, “You ARE coming back, aren’t you?”  I left and went home.


This is a picture of a dumb dumb who did not think to get
a picture with the greeter at church.


Some Errands and a Church Service Part 1


  • Part 1 (You are here)
  • Part 2

I read a blog post by Hannah McKnight recently.  Hannah mentioned in the article that the Transgender Day of Visibility was coming on March 31st.  I do not call myself “transgender” because I do not cross genders.  I call myself a “crossdresser.”  I am just a guy who wears a skirt sometimes.  When I go out, I am a guy in a skirt doing boring guy things.  Regardless of the terminology mismatch, I decided that I should try to go out on Saturday, March 31st, and be visible and represent myself and my peers well.

I asked wife if I could go on an outing that day.  I would do our weekly grocery shopping.  She said yes without hesitation.  Normally, she expresses more discomfort about me going out in public.  I was pleasantly surprised.  I started planning.

I looked online at maps of a town sufficiently far from my home.  I looked to see what was near the grocery store.  On a whim, I searched for churches nearby.  I looked at each to see if they had a meeting of some sort that day that I might attend.  Then I discovered one that was having its regular worship service that day.  I thought, “Oh, I do not think I could do that.”  As in most things I do, I did not commit to go to church in a skirt.  Instead, I kept my options open.

The idea stayed with me.  I wanted to do it.  And I did do it.  AND, it was way better than I expected.

Read more…

New Black Sweater


I bought a new black sweater that I love.  It is beautiful, yet, not feminine.  It seems like it was made for a man who wants to wear pretty things, but does not want to be girly.  It has black buttons down the shoulders and sleeves.  It shows off my physique.  It comes down past my hip bones.  The neck line is close to my neck.  It is perfect!  I had to wear it.

I wore my stretchy red skirt, my black sweater, nude pantyhose, and black flats.  I went to a service station for some candy, a restaurant that I occasionally go to in both menswear and womenswear, and a grocery store.


Read more…

Afternoon Outing


First, the quote of the outing: “No.  I am not a priest.”

I had an errand to do one morning.  I packed a pretty outfit to wear after I was done with my errand.  I packed a long black skirt, a purple blouse, and my new shiny black cardigan.  I also wore off black pantyhose and black flats.  My skirt and my cardigan are made of the same material (acetate and spandex) and they go together quite well.

I was able to go to a restaurant a dough-nut shop, and a clothing store while dressed pretty.  It was a great day!


Read more…

Consignment Store Outing


A couple days ago, I bought a classy black …thing…  It is like a cardigan, but it is stretchy, shiny, and made of a synthetic material.  I feel like “cardigan” is not the right thing to call it.  Perhaps it is a “shell”, or a “sweater”, or an “outer top.”  I think it is pretty and I wanted to wear it.  I left work early and had an outing.

First Consignment Shop
I did not want to change clothes in my car.  I wanted to change quickly, and with dignity.  For my outing, I decided to drive to a consignment shop that I have gone to many times.  I consider the owner my friend.  On the way there, I saw another, small consignment store.  I stopped and took my bag of clothes inside.

I asked the owner if I could change clothes in her dressing room.  She said yes.  I changed into a brown and black skirt, a red top, my fancy black shell, off-black pantyhose, and black flats.

The brown skirt, red top, and shiny, black cardigan that I wore.

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March Haircut, Lunch, etc.


I have not had any outings to write about in a while.  I did go out once or twice in shorts and nude pantyhose.  Otherwise, I have only worn pretty things around the house.

It is all due to my own choices.  I changed my appearance recently for fun.  It was fun, but it made me too unique, and I could not hide it.  I did not want someone to figure out that I was a crossdresser after hearing about a guy who matched my unique appearance.  I had to stay home.

I have skipped a few haircuts recently as well.  When I have gone to get my hair cut in recent months, I have worn all menswear.  It was time for a haircut.  I wanted to wear something pretty.  I wore a brown and black wool skirt, an orange top, a navy cardigan, black flats, and skin-toned pantyhose.

The brown skirt, orange top, and navy cardigan that I wore.

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Lunch Outing


There is a restaurant that I frequently go to in my normal mens’ wear.  About a year ago, I started occasionally wearing womens’ wear to eat there.  I started in womens’ slacks and a sweater.  Several months later, I ate there in ladies’ shorts and a top.  Eventually I wore a skirt on two occasions to this restaurant.  However, I normally wear mens’ clothing to this business.

On my last mens’ wear visit, I was feeling down.  The hostess was very happy and smiled broadly.  She greeted me warmly.  Previously, she has seated me while I was crossdressed.  I felt touched at how nice this woman was treating weird, old me.  It helped me feel a little less down.  The way she made me feel welcome on that day might have inspired me to wear a skirt to her restaurant today.


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