Mile-End Three

This is the 3rd blog post about me, a not so passable but still very sexy mature transsexual woman wandering in the streets of Montréal, Québec after landing in a shitty small room in a 65 room building following an eviction for renovations...

and after spending most time after transition locked away inside the apartment where I lived since 2015 and that I had to leave in a rush on July 5, 2021. It's not necessarily written in a chronological order, and I might (so it seems) be repeating myself. Excuse my English: not my 1st language.

 Loss of credibility

I guess I was due for a change. I was getting my feet caught in old habits. I hate habits. I was seeking something else though, but certainly I would have maintained many of those habits that lead into old age if I hadn’t been through such drastic changes into my life. Like my listening habits. I used to listen to the news all the time and was really always up to date on any news, local, international… Now I now nada of what’s going on with the pandemic and all the rest, politics, whatever. I did see things were getting nasty in Afghanistan with foreign troops retreating… Well what’s new in that anyways? Will the Talibans change the world again?

Whatever. I’m into here and now, trying to, anyways.

And before I got evicted from that apartment I lived in for 6 years, which was a record for me, I was already feeling the encrusting of time in my older bones… I was again drowning into oldness and repetitive stupidness of habits, as I did a couple times already in my life.

So I appreciate the change… I’m trying to convince myself about that, trying to see the better side of things.

For one thing this new start in my life is forcing me to live into the world, outside on the streets and parks mainly, and live out, and confront the world with my transiness.

As an older transsexual woman, transitioning very late, mid fifties, I tended to remain by myself, and mostly meet only my ever changing roommates, I had three and managed the place.

I mean I know I don’t pass, the best I’ll get from people on the street is to be recognised as a trans woman, but again (I said that in the other posts as well), most people out there see me as a whore, a male transvestite whore, and I get offers most days, being outside all the time.

I’m outside all the time, and meeting the homeless around, whose home I’m into, being there all the time, same parks… I was going to say: I’m outside all the time because the only room I managed to rent is right down shitty (see precedent posts), although I am getting used to it somewhat.

But still, every night I come in to fix me a some kind of supper with the little space and tools I have there, I get depressed and can’t believe this is where I live.

And that leads me into what I was going to say about transitioning is that I lost all my credibility, I guess wearing what I wear short cut off jeans with girly embroidering on them, crop top showing my flat belly. That’s why I wasn’t able to get anywhere else to live: total loss of credibility.

Yeah, everywhere I go, everyone I meet…

They see me writing (typing on this laptop PC), I claim I’m a writer and it shows they don’t believe me. Or they think I write some rubbish with full grammar mistakes, or they think I’m faking this and actually use my PC to connect to networks and get dudes to fuck me.

That’s what people think: I lost all credibility, people see me either as a whore or as homeless, cause now it’s been 6-7 weeks I linger in the same places, cross the same intersections…

Is it the fact that I now present as a woman that made me lose all credibility? I mean I used to walk into a store or a restaurant and get respected, I speak well (I mean the French, it shows I’m educated, as opposed to typical French Canadians who speak another kind of French), I have a deep voice, I’m tall, people would tell me: yes sir! with a smile. Now any store owner or restaurant worker is not at ease when I come in, either thinking I might steal something, or simply that I will make other customers go away.

I have to work much stronger than before to convince people I’m a serious writer. It’s probably not because I present or try to present as a woman, rather because my clothing and style of body (tall and slim), my messy hair… whatever it is.

It’ kind of a live social study I’m doing. I study people’s reaction to me being very weird (so it seems, but I feel totally normal).

Dominique Rock