Last time, I talked about my dream to book into a hotel under my feminine alias – Ms Amanda Johnson – and the steps I took to turn that dream into reality. It was now five weeks since I booked the hotel and D-day had finally arrived. But those five weeks hadn’t been easy.
The way I feel when I wake up in the morning often sets the tenor for the day ahead. When I had freedom to dress whenever I wanted, I’d sometimes wake up with an overwhelming need to express my feminine side and as soon as I could be certain that Mrs A had started work, out would come the stash. On the other hand, waking up without those feelings would herald a day feeling fine in my male skin. But now, as ‘D-day’ approached, I was waking up with a feeling of dread more often than not. What the hell had I let myself in for?
I seriously contemplated scrapping the whole idea but that would mean losing the £73 I’d spent on the hotel. Being a cheapskate at heart, I’d saved £7 by selecting the non-refundable option so I was stuck with the booking regardless of whether or not I used it. Maybe a quick email asking them to change the name on the booking would sort things out or even just turning up and saying that my partner had mistakenly booked the room in her name, not mine, would do the trick. I even wondered whether to just stay at home and forget the whole idea of a night away.
As I wrestled with the whole thing, I started to understand that I was experiencing a conflict between superficial and profound feelings. Superficially, what I was planning was a crazy idea, bordering on insane. I was going to make a journey of over 150 miles, stopping en route to change from male to female clothes and then apply makeup in the confines of my car, then check into a hotel under an alias and leave myself no option other than to maintain the persona beyond checkout the following day once again stopping en route to remove all traces of makeup, change back into male clothes and arrive at home praying that the makeup wipes had done their job and not missed even a square millimetre of slap. To say I had serious doubts would be a gross understatement, not least because I had no idea if, when the day came, I’d want to go through with it or whether I’d be experiencing one of those times when I just wouldn’t be ‘feeling it’.
But at times that the superficial feelings of madness didn’t engulf me, I realised that there were profound feelings at play too. I thought back to all the times that I have had similar concerns only for them to evaporate as the inner woman emerged from her slumbers. I remembered the feelings of euphoric bliss as I walked amongst the population, no longer constrained by being in the closet and the need for secrecy that all of that entails. I realised that the time had long since passed when I could just brush off my feminine proclivities as just a bit of harmless recreational fun. This is a significant part of who I am and the night away was my opportunity to live, and be seen, as that person. ‘Amanda’ would no longer merely be a label added to online posts to denote authorship – it would now be my identity, an identity I could wholly assume. And the practicalities of life mean that it could well be not only the only opportunity I would have to take things that far but quite possibly the last opportunity for anything other than a snatched hour here or there. Miss it and I knew that it would not be relief that I would feel but profound and lasting regret.
-o-O-o-
My in-house preparations went exactly as planned. Mrs A had already left for work and my daughter was still asleep so after a quick breakfast, I was on my way to my chosen place for the full transformation. Even finding a suitable place had not been easy until I hit on the idea of using a railway station car park. In the South East of England, most are jam packed with cars during the week as their owners take the train to commute to London but, I figured, should be more or less empty on a Saturday morning and having arrived at one that I’d identified as suitable on Google maps, I was pleased to see that my hunch was correct.
As a result, the changeover to ‘her’ whilst a bit challenging in the confines of the car, went without issue and in less than one hour, Amanda had started her 36 hour adventure.
-o-O-o-
As I mentioned last time, I need a valid reason to be away from home overnight and this time, it was a couple of back to back model shows with the hotel stay enabling me to avoid driving 100 miles home in the evening and then another 100 the following morning so the first of the shows, in the North West of England was to be my first port of call.
I’d originally planned to go to the show as ‘him’ then change afterwards but during the run up to the weekend, I’d decided that there was no reason why I couldn’t attend in my finest, here my finest being my check in outfit (insert photo 1). Whilst I knew I would be a bit conspicuous, I can’t remember the last time I attended a show and didn’t see several trans people so even though I knew I’d be a bit overdressed, I figured I’d be OK. In fact, I’d only been there a few minutes when one guy, seemingly interested in what he saw asked ‘are you a modelmaker?’! I just smiled and carried on walking!
There was also a small steam railway adjacent to the show so I decided to have a ride. The carriage was quite full but I found a vacant seat and the guy in the opposite seat, probably in his late 60s (i.e. not much older than me), uttered one of those smalltalk conversation starters – something like ‘it’s a bit crowded here today’. I just smiled but a minute or two later, he tried again. This time, I thought ‘what the hell’ and engaged with him and we talked about this and that for more or less the whole journey. If ever I needed reassurance that nobody cares how I’m dressed, that was it.
But let’s face it, much though I love attending model shows, this time it was just the pretext for something far more important so having spent a couple of hours there, I returned to the car for the 90 minute drive to the hotel.
-o-O-o-
‘I have a reservation in the name of Amanda Johnson’
It felt good to hear those words come out of my mouth to say the least. The receptionist didn’t bat an eyelid and after a few taps on her computer keyboard, handed me my keycard and explained the dinner and breakfast arrangements to me. And that was that – no fuss, no smirks, no looks of disapproval. It really was as easy as that.
I touched on this in the first part but it’s worth briefly talking about what that simple act really meant to me. First of all, ‘Amanda’ up to that point had just been a nom de plume – a label on my writings to denote authorship. I’m registered on a private forum as ‘Amanda’ but, again, it’s just a label chosen because I particularly like the name. ‘Johnson’ bears no relationship whatsoever to my surname – in fact they have no letters in common – but I’ll say cryptically that it has a ring of truth about it! But as soon as those words came out of my mouth, it became my identity and, as the weekend unfolded, it started to feel more and more natural.
Secondly, on all of my previous hotel stays, I’ve checked in as ‘him’. I’ve then transformed myself in the room before going out. But that has entailed going back past the receptionist in a very different guise to the one I was in an hour earlier and that always makes me feel quite uncomfortable. I know that they’ve all seen it a hundred times before but, even so it goes against my wishes to keep my two sides completely separate. But now, having arrived in my feminine guise I had no such worries and could just be me for the whole time.
Anyway, having retrieved my four bags from the car (four! I’ve never understood why women need so much luggage for the shortest of stays but things are a lot clearer now!) and had a quick rest, it was time to start preparing for dinner.
-o-O-o-
I was of two minds about my dinner outfit. On the one hand, I’ve often looked at myself in the mirror, dressed up to the nines, with a sense of disappointment that I was all dressed up with nowhere to go. Dinner in a hotel restaurant was a chance to make that fantasy a reality. However, whilst the hotel was nice and a step up from the places I usually stay, high end it wasn’t and I was worried that my planned outfit of black dress, off white pashmina and black courts/ pumps would be too dressy. In the end, and for the second time that day, I thought ‘what the hell’ and went full glam (insert photo 2).
I made my way to the restaurant, delighting in the sound my stilettos made on the tiled reception floor as I walked though, smiling to the receptionist as I walked past her (quite a contrast to the mad dashes I normally make to avoid being spotted!) and giving my room number to the waitress in the restaurant who then showed me to a table and handed me a menu.
She returned a short time later and, after taking my order, told me that she liked my outfit. I later found out that her name was Basma and, by the look of things, she was in her early 20s at most. Whilst I’m no expert, I would say that my outfit had a classically elegant vibe to it and certainly not a look that most young women would consider for themselves (more than anything, most would consider the knee length hemline far too low!). But even better was to come.
Basma’s compliment really made my day. It also became apparent that she was still under training when a mix up regarding the price of the meal had to involve her manager to resolve it, so it’s quite possible that I was the first CD/TG person she’d encountered in that environment. But as with my previous interaction with a wonderful waitress during my trip back to my home town (The Homecoming – 2 – True Acceptance), I wanted to say thank you to her for making my day. So when the bill was all sorted out, I called her over and told her that it was a special day for me and what she said had made it perfect. I handed her a banknote and said that I wanted her to have it. She said that I didn’t have to and I replied that I really wanted to at which point she said ‘thank you and you do look amazing’!
That really was the icing on the cake for me. Of course, I was overdressed for a restaurant in a hotel chain only one rung above ‘budget’ where everyone else was dressed casually but her simple comment, which was made in the full knowledge of what really lay beneath the veneer, said that it didn’t matter. I returned to my room on a real high and settled down to watch TV for a couple of hours before finally removing everything, changing into the black lace edged nightdress I’d bought especially for the weekend and turned in for the night.
To say that the weekend had been a resounding success so far would be an understatement. And I still had another day to look forward to so stay tuned for the third and final part.
12 Responses
Amanda,
What a wonderful time for you. Just being the woman you are and doing some normal activities is exciting, and natural.
As things progressed you were comfortable and feeling like yourself. This is the way it should be. Well done.
You look beautiful and perfect for the trip and dinner. Basma treated you like she would to any lady.
This is a great story of a significant part of your life. Thank you for sharing this with the world.
How long into the 36 hours did it take you to fully understand that Amanda was real? And you were just being you.
I am so happy for you.
Love,
Jocelyn
Jocelyn, thank you for sharing your thoughts and for your kind words.
You’re right about it being a wonderful time. I had high expectations but my experiences surpassed even those.
The compliment from Basma was quite interesting. The town in which I was staying has one of the most famous LGBT nightclubs in the country, not that I had any desire to go there, so I’m sure the hotel staff were used to the likes of me turning up. Her first comment was directed solely at my outfit and just felt like the sort of throwaway comment that women are prone to give each other (which, in itself, felt amazing regardless). Her second comment was personal to me and felt far more spontaneous; maybe the unspoken suffix was ‘considering you’re a guy’ or maybe she genuinely liked the outfit regardless of my obvious ‘provenance’. I’m actually deeply flattered either way because even if it did have an unspoken caveat, it implies that I left a positive impression about our community.
As for your ‘how long?’ question, there are two answers! I’d actually had a ‘dress rehearsal’ with my third outfit (featured in next week’s conclusion) visiting the local shops. I realised then that any inhibitions I’d previously had had evaporated and so as soon as I was fully dressed and setting off again, it just felt like the most real & natural thing in the world. On the other hand, it took a while to properly appropriate my assumed name into my persona – I deliberately didn’t announce myself at the hotel ‘my name is Amanda Johnson …’ but I definitely felt a much greater sense of belonging in that name by the end of the weekend.
Thank you again for your support.
Amanda,
I’m really glad you stuck to your plan , as I mentioned I blew hot and cold over my cruise BUT I’m glad I didn’t . If things go pear shaped we have to deal with the situation , so we learn from that experience . We can’t learn if we chicken out , how much better do you feel knowing Amanda is a reality and not just a name in cyberspace .
Please excuse my sense of humour but if that guy had said to me , ” are you a modelmaker ?” My reply would have been , ” No dear I’m a model !”
Thoughts about overdoing the evening outfit , perhaps consider a woman possibly out all day at a conference or trade show , she may have worn a similar outfit with heels , (we’ve all seen them in hotels after ) , so she might have been grateful just to sit and enjoy an evening meal without changing .
Basma was at an age and possibly not met a transgender person , again it’s about ticking enough boxes to come over as female . It does take a while to get over thoughts of being read , it is lovely to get compliments but I realised eventually the best compliment is not receiving one , you haven’t pinged their radar !!
Teresa, thank you for sharing your thoughts.
In the end, it’s human nature to be paranoid about the unknown but, in my heart, I knew that the chances of anything adverse happening were slim. I’ve been out and about enough to know that the vast majority of the population are accepting and that I was unlikely to have any issues at either the train show or the hotel. Ultimately, I knew that the worst things that could happen were either a problem with the car en route, in which case I had my guy clothes to change into in case of need, or that there was a problem with the hotel booking which necessitated disclosure of my identity. Neither would have been the end of the world but, as it happened, I didn’t encounter any problems whatsoever.
Regarding outfit choices/overdressing, I sense that there’s probably a lot more latitude than I imagined. There were only a few people in the restautant, all dressed more casually than I was but I suspect if anyone did look my way, their thoughts were possibly more along the lines of ‘why is she dining alone?’ than any adverse judgement on what I was wearing. For the reasons I put in the post, wearing this outfit was particularly important to me and it was so nice to receive such a nice compliment about it.
As for Basma and the other hotel staff, I suspect I was far from the first CD/TG they had encountered. The hotel was only 10 mins drive from ‘Pink Punters’ and I know that we are a common sight in that area. Regarding your ‘radar’ comment – it has certainly dawned on me when I’m out and about and few people seem to notice me but I don’t pass at close quarters and having quite a long discussion with her and her manager about the charging problem with dinner would have dispelled any residual doubt. However a part of me likes the fact that I can be identified as trans in some shape or form firstly because it underlines that those who I interact with are accepting from the word go and secondly because, even in a small way, it enables me to be an ambassador for the cause.
Amanda,
I understand your comment about being identified as transgender , that was the time when I attended social groups and often a group of us would meet at a shopping village , have coffee and shop as a group . Sadly things happened and it began to fall apart , eventually I had to make the choice because I couldn’t move on to where I wanted to be . In reality I don’t currently have close transgender friends , my art groups and National Trust comittments keep me very busy . That part of my dream has come true and I love every minute of it .
Overall, I prefer to fly solo because it’s my responsibility and my responsibility alone to try to influence how others view me. My big worry is that groups out and about together can be seen as performative, not to mention the risk that one will let the side down whereas, when I’m out alone, those I interact with only need to judge me on who I am, not what I am. My Amanda time is necessarily limited but if I had more time to spread my wings, I would definitely want to do the type of mainstream stuff that you mention rather than, for example, heading north for ‘Leeds First Friday’ once a month.
Amanda, your adventure is exactly the sort that most of us dream to have. Even having to change in the car (which I really don’t like to do), your first outfit is well put together – I love your boots! Your interactions with people show them that we are just going about our business and deserve to be treated like any other person.
Saying your female name out loud is such an amazing feeling, isn’t it? While I haven’t been that bold in my stays at hotels so far, your approach to this hurdle is inspiring. And you look fabulous in the LBD and heels for dinner! You handled the issue with your bill as any woman would. Basma and the staff are to be commended for their efforts in making your stay memorable.
I’m sure the final day of your trip was just as meaningful. Looking forward to next week’s post!
Tina, thank you for your kind words! I’ll say at the outset that it’s thanks to reading about the adventures of people like you and Jocelyn that made me realise that I could do this so I have a lot to thank you for.
My big worry about changing in the car was that, in my mid 60s, I’m not exactly a contortionist! But the idea to use the station car park was a game changer – it cost me £1.20 for the hour but it was a huge car park and I was able to park well away from the handful of cars parked there (presumably because their owners were too drunk to drive them back home on the Friday night so took a taxi instead. Because of that, I could keep the door open and even get out of the car to pull up my skirt. And it was even more deserted when I returned there to change back on Sunday evening which helped immensely.
The boots have quite a high heel, which I like, but are surprisingly comfortable to walk in – that’s been another game changer for me; rather than try to get my feet into something bordering on too small, hunt around for nice styles with a bit of room to spare. Amazon came up trumps on these and the fact that they could be collected from a locker avoided embarrassing moments with Mrs A (who knows but doesn’t want to know) and my daughter (who doesn’t know as far as I am aware).
Regarding booking the hotel in my female name, it was actually emotionally easier than doing it in my male name and then turning up en femme. I don’t know what the situation is where you are but in the UK we don’t have to provide ID when we check in so there was no feeling of awkwardness and, as far as the hotel was concerned, I was Amanda Johnson for the whole of the stay. It also meant that they could not automatically ‘assume’ that I was ‘just’ a CDer. For all they knew, I could live my life this way all the time and that also felt quite empowering.
And thank you for the compliment about the dinner outfit. In truth, the opportunity to wear the dress and heels ‘for real’ and not just for self-adoration in front of the mirror was the main driver for the weekend and I specifically chose a hotel with a restaurant for that reason. For obvious reasons, what happened at the dinner was wonderful but the whole ritual of getting ready and then walking through the hotel lobby (unlike the cheap places I normally stay, this one actually had a lobby!) just made the whole thing both special and memorable.
Day 2 didn’t disappoint either!
In the US, most hotels will ask for an ID as well as a credit card, even if the room is paid for at the time of reservation. Some only require the credit card for “incidentals”, things you charge to the room number. But in both cases, those have my male name on them! So my journeys have always been to check in in male mode, change in the room, and then sashay through the lobby and out the door. No dashing or furtive movements needed! I know it probably wouldn’t be an issue, but keeping that separation of him and her is important to me as well as you.
It’s a real shame about the ID and credit card requirement – had that been the case here, I would never have contemplated doing what I did on this trip. I’ve done the male mode check in then change thing a few times but always in budget hotels (Travelodges) with minute reception areas (sometimes just a hole in the wall in a corridor) and it just feels a little too claustrophobic for comfort.
I know of one CDer who books in her male name but turns up en femme giving her male name but adding that she prefers to be known as her female name and, as far as I know, the hotels are happy to comply. In the end, I suspect they’ve seen it a hundred times before.
I also gather that some Mastercard issuers have ‘True Name’ options where a second card can be issued in a feminine first name (although the surname must be the legal one, not an alias like I use) although this would only be of limited help if hotels insist on photo ID alongside (in the UK, a credit card is often acceptable as informal ID).
Failing that, just pack your stash and jump on a plane to Britain – it’ll be a revelation for you!
Hi Amanda,
As a Stateside “CDer”, I have made reservations in my male name and showed up en femme numerous times. Of course, this has always been in the big city and not in a very right wing area. (I have also flown and traveled by train en femme also.) I have never had a problem except when I had to convince the clerk that my driver’s license was really me and not some guy I stole it from to occupy the room! I have had conversations about being trans with many and one that took some convincing became my student as I tutored her on science so that she would have a chance to pass her final exam. So while it seems scary at times, most hotel people have seen stranger things than a trans person (not to imply that we are strange)!
Leann
Hi Amanda
Congratulations on your outing. I 1st went out enfemme in 1978 or 9. Needless to say things have changed. Looking back I had some scary moments. I grew up in NYC and sometimes went to clubs in the city. Keep doing what your doing. Life is short.
Yours Terri