New Bling

While working as a cashier, I saw the hands of my customers when they gave me money. Some of the things I saw shocked me, but others made me jealous. I could never understand the need to get a tat on you hand. Some of them are interesting. Others worry me, like the letters on each finger spelling the word, H A T E.

There were many variations of nail art, including polish on macho fingers. The most interesting hands I saw, however, were the ones who wore rings. I was jealous. I wanted to wear some of that jewelry.

The concept of a thumb ring never occurred to me before my decision to transition. I had to get one. The other day, my wish was granted. With fingers a large as mine, it’s hard to find your size, but I did, in the mall. See the picture?

At first, like everything new in my transition, I hid it from my spouse. Finally, I realized my error, and brought it out in the open. She didn’t notice for a while, then she said something about how much I’ve changed and we dropped the subject.

Now, I wear it proudly. My bling is who I am, which is kind of surprising when you consider, twenty-years ago, I didn’t wear jewelry.