My First Feminine Purchase

Before I scare you, out of your seats and send you, fleeing for the nearest window, to jump out of. Not all of my experiences are life scarring, as mentioned, in the previous monologues that I have shared with you. Although, there are moments, which I must admit to having second thoughts, even some dark emotions, as I accomplished these huge goals, for myself, like this following monologue.

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My First Feminine Purchase

If you were, to ask me, what are my top two, anxiety filled experiences are. First, I would have to say, having to ride the TTC during rush hour traffic on any of its vehicles. People are jammed, like human sardines, into rolling tin can. Second, is going to the dentist, given my past experience with one particular dentist, who had a very heavy handed touch around my mouth. You see, my teeth are crammed into a very small space, which I call my mouth. Several permanent teeth have pulled over the years, in the hope; this would reduce the crowding in my mouth, but to little avail. Oh, my upper teeth have straightened a bit, but they are still crooked. And my bottom teeth, it would be charitable to call them, a jumble of out-shaped and misalignment teeth, which makes flossing impossible, for me.

Sigh.

Some people would argue to the contrary, that I have a huge mouth, but that's their opinion. Any time, a dentist wants to explore my teeth, they are forced to find new ways, to keep my jaws, wide open, making any visit very tiring, on a physical and emotional level for me.

A close third on my anxiety list, is the first time, I bought female clothing for myself. This may not sound like very much to you, but it marked my first physical attempt to enter, into the world of femininity, on my own. Besides, being taken by my mom, even as an adult, when she went clothe shopping does not count, but I did learn my way around the women's clothing department. Giving my honest opinion, how her selection of clothes, looked upon her. Prior to that fateful mid-February night, in 2006, which I found myself, struggling with.

It felt like, everyone was watching my every move, and knew I was buying for myself, and not for my alleged "girlfriend". My two previous trips to the nearby Wal-Mart, ended, with hastily departures, as waves of anxiety, bordering on panic, gripped me, flooding my mind, with self-doubt and guilt, because of this. Questioning myself, am I doing the right thing, by getting them, now? Is this aggravation, worth the stress that I am adding to my life, at that time? While these thoughts, rattling around my head, I had to focus, on my day job, of loading/off-loading trailers. Feeling totally trapped in a job, which I saw no future, for myself, as a man or as a woman, beyond paying my bills at the time.

During the week of Valentine's Day, think maybe, two days before. I made my third attempt, at the nearby Wal-Mart. By now, I knew my way around their entire women's apparel section, with my eyes blindfolded. If you think, I am doing because of a fetish need. You don’t understand the biological drive, to live my life, full time as a woman. Or the huge barriers, which I have broken through, that previous November, while standing over, my dad's grave. And, nothing I can or do say will change this fact, for you, if you doubt my reasons for my purchase.

Most details are rather vague, of that night, in my mind; except it was a Wednesday night and I had just finished another very long shift. Exhausted and mind wandering, I walked up to Wal-Mart, hoping to conquer one of my fears. Think, but I am not sure, approached the young female cashier. Carrying several items, socks for work, two packages of women's polyester/satin bikini panties, and a coloured t-shirt, were placed upon the conveyor belt. There may have been a few more items, but I have forgotten, what they were.

She made a general comment about, "how lucky, my girlfriend was, to have me, make this purchase for her". Jokingly, I replied back, “that I was just glad ,Valentine’s Day, only happens once a year". Just wanting to get out of the store, fast before someone stopped and accused me, of being a pervert or worse.

Once back at my basement apartment, I locked myself, in the bathroom. Knowing this was the one place, I would have total privacy from the world. Ignoring everything, but the panties, I had gently placed on a nearby rack’s shelf. Three black, two white and one pink with red roses on it, laid there. Nervously, I removed the plastic connectors and held them, in my hands, before a quick try on. A huge contrast to the men's cotton underwear, I had on, at the time. Have a confession to make, of all my panties, the pink ones with the red roses, are my favourite pair. They are worn, especially, on those days, when I feed the need for an extra boost of confidence, which I am filled with a lot of stress. Call them, my lucky pair.