My birthday, which falls on the Winter Solstice, has always been a tricky time for me, much of it
attributable to my gender issues. There is no simple, or rational explanation
for this, I think it is embedded in me from my distant past.
Once an adult, I started rejecting my birthday when nothing
was ever there for the person I now call Nikki. It was just a day to be weathered,
both for me and Pauline. For me, I think that went in hand-in-hand with the
idea that ‘things would get better' after the day was done. For P, it was
always a disappointment as she is very much someone who focuses on special occasions,
but she could never bring herself to give anything that would acknowledge the feminine
in me. In a way, that was understandable all those years ago, it was a time
when transvestism was still considered a perversion.
Of course, when I was with Barbara, it was a completely different
story. Curiously, early on in our relationship B stated that she hated her
birthday. For her, horrific childhood abuse had taken its toll and there was also
an abiding adult pain from having had a still-born son close to her birthday, but I
think she grew to enjoy the day a little more, especially when a big bottle of
Calvin Klein’s Eternity Eau de Parfum would be among the presents.
In the previous post I mentioned that P had been very
supportive during B’s last months and that caring continued as the Solstice
approached. She was concerned that I would be on my own for the day despite
knowing that I would be dressing for the day. We chatted as I drove us to our ‘end
of the language course’ Greek meal and I said that she was more than welcome to
come over on the day and I would cook a meal, but I would be dressed. To give a
little context, P’s previous experience of me dressed was simply of a photo of me taken
at Barbara’s back in 2002. So it was to my surprise that she agreed.
Now, I have a fondness for frocks (!) and had a birthday
treat waiting to be worn, but I wanted P to see me in everyday things. So it was
that I kept my make up very light on the day - foundation, a little eyeliner, mascara,
blusher and lipstick - and took some photos in my new dress. (As an aside, I’m
quite mean to myself, the dress cost all of £13.50 and this year, my Xmas pressie dress to
me is all of £15.75). I then changed into one of my favourite casual tops, long black
skirt and flatties. I did get into a spin about ‘which wig should I wear’ and
settled for my usual. The final act was to just remove my lipstick. P arrived
and apart from a little chat about lipstick and that she hoped I hadn’t expected her
to be wearing a dress, that was it. She appeared
genuinely relaxed. We spent a good many hours together, she wrapping her presents and me cooking a meal. The only disappointment for me was that I fell asleep and snored!
It looks like Boxing Day will be a repeat, except that I’ll
be wearing one of my retro dresses that day. Possibly, this one:
It seems the ice has been broken,
but I’m not counting my chickens, to mix metaphors.
Leonard Cohen’s music has accompanied me throughout my adult
life, even with layoffs of several years, I have always returned to his
imagery (Joan of Arc is possibly my favourite song, although Dance Me to the End
of Love runs it a close second – such joyful tunes, not!) I bought his last album
early in the year, but with Barbara’s poor health, I needed happier material.
The CD sat by the player for months and then just a week ago I played it, and
played it again and again. Barbara’s death was, sadly, not a good one, but with
‘You Want it Darker’ Leonard has said ‘it can be OK’, which I find redeeming,
cathartic, and uplifting.
