Infamy, Infamy, They all got it in for me

I've had a week in the spotlight. Actually spotlight is overstating it. More like table lamp with a 40 Watt bulb ! (not sure what the Ecco bulb equivalent is), that is not plugged in!

The article in the local paper (I think I might have mentioned it !!) has provided me with a strange and somewhat uneasy week. I know in the scheme of media things its a very small deal indeed, but the thought that 60,000 (thanks bro. for the circulation figures) people in my area have read such personal details left me feeling slightly uneasy. From a life point, where I went about my business mostly unnoticed and fairly relaxed, I have had a reoccurrence of those old neurosies from my first outings as Jen. For instance if someone reads me as being Trans, they may not say anything for fear of being mistaken. Now there is the chance that If I am recognised, they will know exactly the status of my transition. So from a position that any unwanted attention or comments were as unlikely as to be unconsidered, I now have my radar turned back on. Of course, these feelings may say as much about my inner imbed insecurities and the brittleness of my outward confidence, as anything else.

I have been recognised twice as a result of the article. I would love to say it was while in Harvey Nicks or some fashionable Nightspot, but it was all much less glamorous, but suitably Stokeish. The first time was at the Deli counter in Tescos. "Are you the lady out of the Sentinel", the assistant asked. I laughed it off self consciously, saying it was my better looking twin. "Well I thought it was a really nice article", she said. "Thanks" I replied " errrr 6 slices of Haslet* please".

The second time was even more mundane, and didn't involve any exotic meat products. While at the till in the local Co-oP I was buying un unflattering list of items. XXL Chiffon Tights, Tinned Mushrooms, and Mouthwash. The till lady remarked that she had seen me in the paper, and this time I my response was a bit more gracious, and I chatted to her for a few moments about being transgendered, which I guess was the whole point of the endeavour.

While trying to take this local notoriety in my nonchalant stride, and appearing not to be bothered, I have been regularly checking the Sentinel web page for comments. Vanity is as Vanity does.

There have only been 1 or 2 negative comments, although any abusive ones are swiftly removed. In some ways its a pity, because they say more about the author than they do anything else.  One called me a freak, which could be seen as fair comment! Better a freak though than a narrow minded idiot. As Brian said in Life of Brian "We are all different".

I did have one comment that nearly brought a wonky tear to my wonky eye, especially the last sentence. If I ever come to regret what I did, I will try and think of Stewart's comment

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Jenny - given the hostility you have undoubtedly endured throughout your life, you will probably be surprised to read this comment from me because I tick all the wrong boxes!
I am a pensioner (just!). I have served in Northern Ireland (quite late in my army career). I drink far too many pints than is good for my health on a nightly basis, have been in one or two scraps (I'm embarrassed to say) and play darts and bridge with my old mates at our favourite pub.
But I admire you Jenny, not only for having the courage to be yourself (why should anybody need courage to do that!?!), but for being so ruddy brave!
That somebody would wilfully adopt a way of life they know would attract such hostility in an unfair world like ours, not only demonstrates how trapped they must really have felt before, but indicates an amazing strength of character just to go through such a transition.
I wonder how many transgendered men - and women! - feel unable to do so, and how many will be helped by stories like this with such a positive role model as yourself?
You look great Jenny, and if you were one of my children, I would be proud to call you my daughter. Very proud indeed!

Stuart Edwards, Trentham

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commented on 06-Feb-2009 13:06

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I have tried not to let fame change me, although I do now have a few new demands:

• All media requests must go through PR guru Max Clifford... or if not via a flyer in any reputable local kebab house.
• I will now, not get out of bed for less than 4 double Sausage and Cheese Oatcakes**
• No one should look me directly in the eye (either one!). I have borrowed this from Tom Cruise.
• My dressing room needs to be painted completely and utterly black. As black as a Hotblack Desatio space ship***.

My rider will consist of :

• 2¼ kg of Smarties with exactly equal numbers of each colour, except yellow.
• 4 Double Cheese Oatcakes cut into dodecahedrons.
• Spangles, Marathons, Minstrells and Opal Fruit or any other sweet names of my youth.
• Hugh Jackman
• Cake

* Haslet is a herb pork meatloaf from Lincolnshire, mmmmmmmm. **Oatcakes are the food of the gods, delicacy of North Staffs (not to be confused with inferior Derbyshire oatcakes, or those odd Scottish imposters). *** See Restaurant at the end of the universe, by Douglas Adams

The post title is of course from the epic Carry On Cleo