Private Disclosures and Well-Being

The day after the private disclosure of my “little secret” was pleasant and comfortable.  I brought my colleague Cover Girl Outlast lip gloss and sealer.  She was thrilled and showed me the product applied.  “I’m liking the color; subtle but there.”  She smiled a genuinely warm and inviting smile.  The wonder of youth still twinkled in her eyes.  Other than that exchange, which I labeled “sister to sister”, she acted as if I was the same person prior to my disclosure.

In the aftermath she wasn’t weirded or wigged out.  When things go well they go very well.  As I indicated in prior posts, trust is a huge intangible – life’s version of goodwill.  Lack thereof is an enormous sinkhole.  Settling into the day I felt more connected to my position than I had before yesterday.  I began to wonder how that could be possible.  I felt like I had been woven into the fabric of the organization.  Somehow the incorporation deepened.

The next hurdle is on the immediate horizon – like tomorrow!  Because of the machinations the board of directors will be generating in the coming month it is incumbent upon me to talk to the chairman.  No I don’t have a death wish. I must disclose to him privately because one of the options they are considering includes me. How would the whole trust thing work if I withheld vital information – evidence - and they decided to lean in my direction?  How warm and fuzzy would that feel?  Betrayal is not in my nature.  I’d struggle emotionally until something untoward occurred.  I’d be ripped from the fabric of the organization faster than a seamstress could tear out a hem.  There is little worse than being summarily dismissed without compunction or compassion.  Yes I know I have rights but they are useless in the onslaught of infidelity.

Why must I disclose?  Why not retain the secret and live the duality?  It hasn’t killed me yet, right?  Well transitioning from Wonder Woman to Clark Kent (yes I know WW’s mild mannered cover is Diana Prince) is like death by a million file folder paper cuts.  That’s the first concern.  The second is what if I am rewarded for my loyalty and afforded the royal treatment and then come out?  Wouldn’t that be ducky!  This is not something you can say “came over me suddenly” or “my bad” and expect to receive a free pass.  Nobody in their right mind would buy the obfuscation.

So tomorrow afternoon I trek south to the next milepost.  I’m nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.  Tonight will be another restless attempt at sleep.  But hey, the matter will be settled twenty-four hours hence and then the planning will commence.

I was warned that once I received a taste, a real taste, of femininity in the public eye and began to feel comfortable with myself the need to present more and more frequently would impose itself on my previously ordered world.  Well lovelies, in my case truer words have never been spoken.  This is like salt and vinegar flavored potato chips, Oreo cookies, M&Ms and countless other addictive goodies.

Wish me God Speed or whatever well wish you are willing to offer.  I’ll report the outcome.  And no matter the result, my conscience will be clear and I will retain a friend and mentor.

Love and hugs, Nikki DiCaro