A Day in the Life of a British Trans Woman
The daily ups and downs of a transgender lesbian and her partner
Whew. What a day. Usually I use the ‘Dispatches’ banner to report some recent transphobic BS that’s occurred on the shores of Britain. But today was a day I wanted to share, largely unfiltered. A window into my life.
I hope you’ll indulge me.
First some introductions to those new to my work. I’m Abbie, a 50+ lesbian trans woman. I’m engaged to another trans woman, Fae. She’s 43 and she’s pan. And we’re both militant intersectional feminists.
I’m a night owl. But today, I managed to drag myself upright (no bra, baggie hoodie, jeans, boots, coat. No makeup. Go!) and my girlfriend and I were off on an early visit to a friend.
Our friend is a straight, cis woman ten years my senior. A survivor of throat cancer, a woman who remained in a coma for several months. A defier of odds. A tiny bundle of power, she is. She’s a bon viveur and a villain, in the best possible way. And christ is she fruity for a straight gal. I say straight but I’m thinking more spaghetti. Straight til wet. I dunno, thing is we all three vibe but said friend has a thing for me, especially. We sit and gossip, but inevitably someone’s ass gets spanked. The weed helps, of course.
