Navy Halloween without a costume

[Brea]

So far, the only day I have been able to go without wearing a costume in public has been Halloween.  Only one Halloween in fact.  I was dressed up as a pregnant nun.  I know what you are thinking.  “OMG you are an actual pregnant nun!?”  Yes, they call it immaculate conception.  Not really.  It was more the fact that I could wear clothes that were somewhat comfortable for me.  I could be accepted as a woman, of God, with a life growing inside of me, and a five o’clock shadow (don’t judge me!  Your hormones do weird sh!t when you’re pregnant).  I walked around with a bump on my stomach and a Long Island in my hands and nobody thought twice.  This alcoholic nun was perfectly welcome here.  Here…among a group of men and women sailors.  Well, I guess now that I say sailors it doesn’t sound so surprising.

To be honest, if anyone was going to accept me as trans it would have been my comrades. Even though in the back of my mind I thought I would have support from at least the closest of my friends at that party, I could never come out to them.  I could never be confident enough they would still be my friends.  I had lost friends for the same reason in the past and I couldn’t do it again.  I couldn’t spend months at sea with no friends on a ship where one of the main forms of recreation is gossip.  I could never get over the fear of the thought of having to go back to the ship as the cliche faggot sailor boy.  I didn’t want people jokingly asking me if I could dress up for them because they were missing their wife back home.

Of course this never happened.  My department can be summed up as the Frisco of the ship.  We had openly gay people in our department before the don’t ask, don’t tell policy was rescinded.  We had men reading playgirl in the lounge.  Nobody would bother them unless there was a good men’s health article they wanted to read.  They were perfectly welcome to come with to get wasted with their shipmates while getting their ass handed to them in a game of connect four with the locals.

To be honest, we preyed on the fragile minds of homophobes.  If someone was known to have issue with homosexuals, whenever they walked into a room you would swear everyone was gay (“omg they were right about sailors!”). You couldn’t tell who was playing the part and who was being the part.  I know, being gay isn’t the same as being trans.  Sure, but from the perspective of social acceptance I think we could say these people are pretty accepting.  And until I was around 13 I thought I was gay.  Then I started liking women’s body (perhaps worshipping is more fitting…and creepy).  Then I thought I was bi.  Even though I was in my 20s, the most confident with my sexual prowess and surrounded by understanding friends, I felt more comfortable with being an alcoholic, pregnant, nun than being myself.  I want to put a comical twist on this one but I’m not sure how (sorry).

on a lighter note, I am thinking about taking off the costume this Halloween and I am seriously thinking about being Shank from the second Wreck it Ralph.  She is the type of girl I would imagine I would have been if I was able to accept myself earlier in life.  Yes, this cracker would have been a sick Latina racing badass.  Yeah I said it… sick AND badass.  What are your thoughts?  About the costume and not the use of sick and badass.

[𝓜𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓒𝓁ℴℯ́ 💋💋]

Knock yourself out Pfifer!  If you’re wearing that now it’s a timeless look IMO anyway.  Last year I did a costume for the first time since elementary school.  Never too late to enjoy yourself.

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