Kindness and compliments

Charly warmly welcomes me and briefly explains the evening.
The venue is private for the occasion, you must be on the guest list.
The list is made discreetly, based on the Facebook nicknames used during our online exchanges. Several rooms on the ground floor and in the basement. A large space lets some people perfect their outfits and makeup. You can store bags and jackets in the basement. The program: cocktail, drinks, meal, music, group photo planned at midnight, end of the evening at 1 a.m.

My shyness is at work, and the emotion causes strong hot flashes.
I sit alone in a corner, observing and trying to soak up the evening’s atmosphere, but I struggle to realize what I’m experiencing and let go.

Several small groups form; it’s clear quite a few already know each other.

Heading to the bar, the staff and owners are lovely. They all encourage me to let go, saying this is the night for it, that’s what we’re here for. A small group hears me talking and invites me to join them. My apologies in advance if any of them read this account—I have their faces etched in my memory, their kindness, but I do not remember any of their names. They introduce themselves and invite me to do the same. I confess it’s my very first time; they congratulate and encourage me. I am already praised for the success of my transformation, makeup, and outfit. For that, I don’t hesitate to highlight Jennifer’s work—I didn’t do much myself, really.
Sharing experiences: from occasional cross-dressing to the trans identity journey and diversity.

I realize Jennifer was right.
There’s a place for everyone at this evening.
Just in this small group, there is:
• A person over 70, very classy, who doesn’t look her age, dressing as a woman occasionally for decades. Married, her wife is comfortable with it, though she prefers they don’t go out together too often.
• Her friend beside her is a bit younger, with the same profile. They tell me how lucky we are nowadays, with online shopping and social networks to express femininity. When they started transforming, social networks were the Minitel, and finding women’s shoes size 42 meant mail-order catalogs from German stores! I wasn’t really aware of that.

• Another guest shares how she had to organize a very complex scheme to be able to come tonight. In a couple living in a family where patriarchal male virility is important. He cannot confess anything to his family. His wife doesn’t know; he’s supposed to be on a business trip, but since his wife starts to have doubts about his absences, suspecting an extramarital affair, he must provide proof of his trips. I won’t say more to preserve anonymity, but the complexity of what he manages to put in place to be here tonight is worthy of a Jason Bourne movie.

• A couple from my region. She is trans: male to female (MTF), in transition, and her wife supports and accompanies her in this journey. When they met, he was still a man. We talk a lot with her wife, very caring; I’m sure I’ve seen her before as a man, but I can’t remember where—it scares me a bit. They seem to be a happy couple, content. It’s really heartwarming to see.

Technical issues, nights out, police checks: the evening goes on

I still receive compliments on my makeup, eyebrows, eye enhancement… Thanks again, Jennifer. Everyone shares experiences, particular situations during outings, police checks, meetings with people they knew, recognized or not, technical problems, with wigs, accessories… Sometimes it’s funny; sometimes I take notes in case it happens to me.

Dinner continues, still with other enriching encounters. I feel, as the evening progresses, maybe a bit from alcohol too, that some people loosen up. After midnight, some get a little closer; minds open up. Someone “approaches” me, very respectfully, but that’s not what I came for. No insistence; we chat a bit, and the evening goes on.

Charly will take a group photo (I didn’t pay attention, I was chatting and there were many of us, I’m not visible on it). The evening continues with music, but fatigue and my feet start winning. I’m having a great time, but you have to be reasonable and think about getting back to the hotel.

Everything has an end: memorable day and strong emotions

I go to say goodbye to the people I met who are still there, especially Charly, for organizing this evening, her kindness, and above all, Jennifer, without whom none of this would have been possible. I thank her for her talent, professionalism, but also her attentiveness, trust, and for opening me to encounters like those I had tonight.

I leave, emotion strong, tears in my eyes, but Jennifer’s makeup is flawless! My feet remind me this is the first time I’ve spent so long in high heels; I should have taken flat shoes for the return to the parking lot. On the way back, I still meet people who don’t pay me any more attention than on the way in. Yet my gait, with screaming feet despite my efforts, must necessarily betray me.

Back at the hotel, it’s time to end this memorable day. I don’t want to, but I have to. I start removing makeup, and I confirm again that Jennifer’s makeup holds very, very well. I only missed a touch-up with powder or blush during the evening, but she warned me, and caught up in the evening, I didn’t do it. My eyes were still perfect, even lipstick held all night despite the meal and drinks. So, I admit, I struggled a bit to remove it all.

Final words from Jennifer

A big thank you to July for her testimony on the "Charly dinner."
Everything is said! Every time my goal is to support you in your desire to be the person you want to be.
Going out is an important moment of “socialization.”
You learn to manage a new appearance, to establish codes you have never faced before.

My advice: go out. Several articles on my blog give you some guidance.

Plus, a new dossier on "going out in Paris in 2023 when you are transgender and crossdresser" is being prepared.