Background, Me
I flew once as a teen, one-way. Like getting on a roller-coaster; follow the group. Flew once round-trip with a queer work group, already terrified of body scanners but they were rare and no one else was worried and nothing happened.
Was asked to, couple times, for weddings, best friends. Work conferences. Actual job offers. Said no.
Finally after eight years decided to try it. Had my ID docs all ready, matching and correct, minus the passport I still can’t get without lying about my gender. Researched. Talked to friends. To therapist. Called airline. Emailed airline. Webchatted airline. Called TSA. Was told they assign an agent based on the gender you Look Like On The Day (binary options). Had my call dropped and not returned mid-question; let it go. Watched videos.
Chose what to pack. Followed guidelines. Left things behind. Read every prep list. Had already read every bit of trans advice. Chose what to wear. Arranged a disabled-autistic-hardofhearing+first-time Special Needs Request to have an Advocate guide me through.
Dunno where you’re supposed to meet up with said advocate.
Was in too much of a “let’s get through this and over with” to deal with the long ticketing counter lines and closed information booth.
epochryphal 