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I had my hair done the other day and I have to say that I am coming to love the salon experience, even if it always ends with an obscenely large bill.
A couple of years ago, I came to the conclusion that a wig was too artificial-feeling, too hot, and too fake-looking to allow me to be comfortable and feel natural being Janie. I don’t judge others, and I realize many tgirls feel differently about this – or have no choice – but the way I come at this thing personally, internally, it really became a matter of self-respect for me.
So, I started by trying to find a sympathetic place where they would cut my hair in such a way that it could pass for a girl’s do, but still was a serviceable male cut.
A few sessions of that led me to the conclusion that if I was ever going to be happy with my girl look, my hair was going to have to be distinctly feminine. I wasn’t going to reshape my face surgically, so my hair had to do it for me.
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I always let you know when I have had a new thought or new experience, sometimes profound, sometimes, well, not so much.
So, within the definite scope of the latter, I present to you a recount of my latest new experience as a girl.
I got dressed this morning in a cute pink t-shirt and low-waisted white denim capris, with white pumps. Bleary-eyed and in serious need of my coffee, I flipped on the machine and read some of the newspaper while it did its magic.
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I decided to make a trial run of my return to being Janie today.
I don’t know why I chose this particular moment; I had to rush like mad to get ready if I was to make my appointed rounds. And, after so long, I wasn’t sure whether I would remember everything – the makeup, the jewelry, the purse, the walking, the voice. But, I had decided, and when a girl makes up her mind, there’s no reasoning with her.
Or, maybe that’s just me.
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