Transvestia
The second event of significance happened about ten days after I got back from my May trip. I had to becomes Charles for three days to take care of some legal matters and then reverted to Virginia again. Since I had no pressing need to be Charles again for some time I decided to visit a friend of mine who is a hair stylist and get a permanent wave, which I did. So, since about the tenth of June I have lived all the time as Virginia and have been wearing my own hair for all this time. Morover I have been to another more convenient beauty shop four times for a shampoo and set. My friend knew the score but the beauty shop did not so I have gotten the same treatment as the rest of the women. It's been an interesting experience.
But the part that is really important is the effect of wearing ones own hair in place of a wig. When you pick up a wig from the stylist every little hair is in place. The wig looks great and when you put it on you look great. Then if a wind ruffles it a bit or a trailing branch snags a few hairs etc. you feel messed up too. Moreover, with the amount of hair in most wigs there is the question of whether it is a wig or natural hair. With your own hair there isn't so much of it and it is obvious that it is yours because they don't make such short and "thin" wigs. In the casual styles worn today if the wind ruffles your hair a quick pat and it's back in place. In addition you begin to notice that no other woman's hair is not just perfect either and that most of them are loose and casual too so what goes for them goes for you. The effect on ones sense of reality is fabulous. You feel that you can do anything and not be read because "anyone can see that that is a woman's real hair." I found myself the other morning carrying the trash out to the street for collection in my nightie, robe, slippers, no makeup and curlers in my hair. Not an attractive sight I agree but a "real and authentic one." A couple of months ago and I would not have dared to be seen in such extreme informality. But today I just feel that I am me and that I'm for real and can do anything any other woman can do (well, almost anything). Today I found that I could brush my hair and it would fall back into an acceptable style. It would be hard to explain to most people the extreme joy and satisfaction that this simple act gave me. Perhaps a TV may be able to understand. Later in the day I was out in the front yard. The wind was blowing my hair back and I didn't care. In fact I loved it. It made me feel like some of the young girls you see running in the wind in television programs. I felt free, young, happy, pretty and completely me. I could never have gotten that feeling without the
81