Blog

Featured Entries

  • Transgender Bloggers Wanted: Share Your Journey

    By Lori

    Create your own blog at TGGuide.com. It's FREE and you can start right now. Some people blog as a sort of journal to share our thoughts, feelings, experiences and insights. Others blog to express opinions on social and political issues. Others blog to share their knowledge and experience with others. Go ahead. Express yourself! Others may be grappling with issues you blog about and your words could provide useful insight or answers. Here are some blog topic ideas to get your creative juices flowing; A daily journal about your life and experiences
    A journal documenting when you go full time
    A journal to document your gender reassignment surgery
    Dating experiences and tips
    Crossdressing tips
    Experience with makeup
    Passing in public
    Your experiences when you go out in public
    Restroom experiences
    Transitioning at work
    Dealing with counselors or medical personnel
    Introspection about your particular gender identity
    Dealing with or overcoming self-limiting beliefs
    Dealing with addictions
    Dealing with self-destructive behaviors
    Interactions with police or government workers
    Changing your drivers license, birth certificate, etc.
    Applying for jobs
    Your big day, when you go full time
    Hormonal development (please don't discuss dosages or make medical type recommendations)
    Experiences with electrolysis
    How other members of your new gender react to you, and your experiences
    Your recommendations to others about to follow your path
    Your thoughts about whether surgery is necessary to be your desired gender
    Differences in how you feel dressed or not dressed
    What your life would be like if you still repressed your inner identity
    Poetry or prose
    These are a few ideas to get you started. Feel free to leave comments to suggest your own ideas, or just start a blog and share with everyone. Just log into your control panel to start your own blog. This could be interesting!
    • 27 comments
    • 4,433 views

Our community blogs

  1. Ok people, sorry for the bummer of a subject line, but a week of insomnia isn't conducive to optimism :)

    It could be from my shoulder surgery, but as each day passes that seems unlikely - it's not hard getting comfortable anymore, I just stay wide awake.

    I think it is, indirectly transition-related.  It's not because of transitioning, but because the transition had been so all-consuming for awhile that I had put aside other concerns.  Now that i'm acclimating more to transitioning (though not completely yet), i'm faced with the feeling again that so much of my life feels like a vast, empty wasteland, no matter what way I go, or if I don't go anywhere, it's all the same nothing.

    Transitioning in this context takes on a new feeling - if i'm going down I might as well go down as me and not a fake :)

    sorry for the downer entry - needed to get it out

    Christie

  2. For years I drove sensible cars for family at one point then later for travelling and teaching. Been thinking about getting a sports car and trading my Toyota 2005 Camry in for one but could never justify selling the Camry because it just runs and never breaks, only routine maintenance like oil change and tires for the most part.

    Been checking out the Mazda Miata for a while and was told by a co-worker that the 2016 models were worth waiting for. So last month I got on the list and last night was informed one was in, top of the line (and the price tag to go with it, $30,000).

    Took it out for a test spin this morning and I had to have it so I purchased it and went out driving in the country for an hour or so. Note I kept my Camry as it is a great investment and know full well it will come in handy a lot.

    There are so many features and creature comforts such as voice control, bluetooth, GPS navigation, controls on the steering wheel in all makes you feel like being in the cockpit of a sophisticated airplane.   

    My first choice would had been red but red sports cars get noticed on the highway and I always drive 80 MPH in the 65 MPH highway, never been ticketed (knock on wood), second choice was black and third was yellow so in my mind I am very satisfied with the color.

    Please note that I came from a $20,000 a year paycheck to $100,000 paycheck that was not easy and now truly enjoying the year 2015. With no disrespect I hope this may light a fire under one or more people thinking they can never transition or have a decent life style because if you truly put your mind to something it is achievable.

    Miata2016SideView.JPG

  3. So, my therapist had me do a project. Well, ex-therapist. I quit her, but I never did the project. Decided to do it tonight. She wanted me to write about how I felt with my 'conditions.'

    Here ya go.

    These Things

    "Imagine a desert. No beginning and no ending. Nothing in sight but sand and an occasional breeze. It’s humid and agonizingly hot, every breeze that wanders through only seems to increase the heat. Every direction in which you wander only seems to send you in the same looping circles, though you cannot tell because there are no markers and no footprints. Nothing to occupy you while you wander aimlessly and afraid. You feel no thirst in this desert. No hunger in your belly. But instead of these things, you instead suffer such an overwhelming sense of failure that nothing seems worthwhile. Every step you take is agony. Your feet burn from the sand, yet you cannot bare to stand in one spot for too long, fearing you may scream from the pain. Yet it doesn’t matter, because every scream that escapes your lips is silent. Every wail and cry is unheard in this vast and seemingly empty desert of sand and dune. No one can hear your grief. No one can comfort your fear. Ghosts only occupy your mind, though they whisk away as nothing but sand with empty and concerned eyes. There seems to comfort from this burning hell, and nothing seems to comfort and relieve you. It is as if you’re burning apart from the inside out, turning hollow and dark. You think you see shadows of guests in your own personal hell, but alas, they only turn away and disappear into the dunes. Mirages, simply put there to make you hope before making you weep. There seems to be no escape, yet you’re not even sure how you got there to begin with. All you can do is wander, and wait, and hope that someone somewhere will rescue you.

    These things are Depression.

     

    Imagine that you are within a room. It is a tiny room, to be honest. This tiny room has only four walls of a bland grey, the floor covered in broken and cracked tiles of unidentified color. Should you know this color? Have you forgotten this color? The ceiling is low against you. So low that it actually forces you to remain laid down upon that floor, curled up in an uncomfortable position, struggling to find relief from this frustrating situation. No position seems to help, and every part of your body hurts from the attempts to find one. Not only can you find no comfort, but from places unknown, noise vibrates through these walls. These grey, oddly crowding walls. Are they shrinking? Have they gotten shorter? Perhaps you should have noticed this. Have you gone crazy? These noises make no sense. They jumble together like spilt scrabble pieces, making no sense but reaching you nevertheless. Screams inaudible. Nails upon chalk, a pounding like hundreds of hammers against your little walls. Wailing for unknown ailments, furious yelling as though angry creatures stalk for you. Should you remain quiet? Or are they here to help you? No, you remain quiet. Perhaps it is best. The noises never dull. They never quit, and they never quiet. Unyielding and demanding, these sounds pester and frighten you in your little box. You need something—anything—to lock out those taunting walls and frightening noises. Anything to make it stop, even if just for a moment to offer you repreave. Yet…you dare not move. You dare not breathe. They might hear you. They might tear apart your walls and discover you. Every scream seems to be your name. Every angry cuss feels as though it were directed at you. Every wail seems to be of your cause, filling you with despair. And among these things, the whispers can be heard. Are they mocking you? Perhaps. Are they rumors of your existence, spoken either kindly or of ill will? You’ll never know. Are they perhaps just comments of your agony, or broken and weak attributes? Can they see you in that box? Or perhaps they are nothing at all. Perhaps you’ve simply lost your mind. Is this all a game that you’re failing? Regardless, they persist. Should you listen? It hurts to hear their sounds. But what if it is something important? Maybe you should know these things. If only it were all silent, you could perhaps breathe. The tiny confinement limits your air, cutting away your ability to think clearly with all the noise and that agonizing sense of dry drowning. You want to escape. You want to flee as far and as fast as you can. But instead, you have to wait for someone to open your box and let you out.

    These things are Anxiety.

     

    Your day begins as it always does. You don’t remember when exactly you fell asleep the night before. Or what woke you up today, for that matter. Regardless, here you are. You stare at the ceiling in a sense of hopeless ambition, feeling as though you’re sinking. You almost hope you do, actually. To sink down so far that you will never have to come out. Yet, you do. You somehow insist on getting up, beginning to dress yourself. What will you wear? Will you conform to society’s demands, or will you do what makes you feel normal? Let us assume for a moment that society rules today. You wear what they demand, a sense of aching in your chest as you slip into the clothes that they deem appropriate. You feel ridiculous and hideous, yet you endure it. Perhaps you wander to the bathroom and paint on a face that is not yours? Wearing a mask with bold lettering stating “I’m fine”. Perhaps you will do something with your hair. You’re not entirely sure what to do with it, because everything you attempt seems odd and unfamiliar. As if you’re modeling yourself in someone else’s image. Someone you are not, yet….someone you are. They say you are. They insist you are. With a heavy sigh and a broken heart, you wander from your room. Will you work today? Will you go to school today? It all blends together regardless. It feels as though all eyes are on you. Every detail of yourself seems flawed and obvious, and everyone is whispering about it. You are desperate to hide, even if for a moment. This isn’t you….This isn’t who you are…but its only for today. Right….?

    No, let us instead chose that you decide to be yourself. You set aside those things, and you avoid that mask. It has been put away for now, and you can use your authentic smile and enjoy today. You dress as you wish, and do your hair as you please. Yes, this looks right. This looks pleasing for once. Is that a smile I see? Yes, I think it is, actually. Perhaps today will be fine Perhaps today you will enjoy being out of that bed. But wait…they’re still looking at you. Are they looking even more? I cannot tell, to be honest. But…but wait. Those things you don’t like. They’re hidden, aren’t they? Those things that you wish you could remove yourself, but know it will end you for certain. They cannot be seen can they? But it feels as though everyone sees them. Everyone seems to point, even if not physically. They whisper, they talk, then they giggle. Do they know this is really you? Or do they think this is a mask? Do you blend in, or do you stick out like some freakishly abnormal thumb? Perhaps you will be the mask again tomorrow. Perhaps it is safer. But wait…the mask hurts. But doesn’t this hurt? Nothing seems right.

    These things are Dysphoria.

     

    Today you are happy. Today you have had no cause of alarm, and you’ve found a rather enjoyable time either playing games or spending time with friends. Your smile is priceless, your joy unavoidable. It seems contagious, as if you have gotten the laughing virus and no one is immune to your illness. You find a smile on the faces of others enjoyable, and you thrive on these things. You giggle and you jump around, having a blast and perhaps even singing without shame. You dance as if your mother will be embarrassed, and you have no shame. But wait…what is this? Where did this darkness come from? Your smile disappears. Your chest aches and you can feel your heart sinking. As if it were a literal disease, your heart sinks into your stomach like the titanic and disappears. You look around, and everyone is still smiling. Why wont they stop smiling? All you can think is “stop smiling at me!”. You want it to stop, and its making you furious. What is this feeling? Where has it come from? Nothing had upset you that you can remember. You were so happy five minutes ago. What changed? People will ask you what they did wrong. You have no answer for them, yet somehow it is annoying that they ask. They will ask you ‘are you angry at me?’ and you will struggle to figure that out. Are you angry with them? But weren’t you just happy with them? Did they do something wrong to you, or have they done something that somehow impacted your emotion? You cant even put words to it. It is as if someone has taken your happy. They have taken that little spark in your eyes and put it in a box, and they’re holding it hostage. Perhaps it will come back. You want people to give it back to you, and you want them to understand that they did nothing wrong. But you wish they’d stop asking you what is wrong. You don’t know what is wrong, and it is frustrating to try and figure it out. But wait, what is this emotion now? Are these new things?

    These things are Bipolar.

     

    You have your desk, and it is your own. Your own design, your own order, your own creation. Things are just as you please, and nothing can damage that. You know how things are to be done, and how things will work, and these things make life pleasant. You enjoy your things and your desk, your creations and your order. Yes, your order. The patterns in which you place things, making them as your mind has decided ‘yes, this is right’. You will not understand this order, but you will obey this order. You may try to explain it to others around you, but this is a language that they do not understand. You walk away, pleased with this order. But wait, you come back. Someone has altered your design. They have changed your order. These things are not in their places. Your mind falters like a car out of control, screaming tires and smoke. No, no, no, no! This must be corrected! They have changed things! What has been changed? You cannot decide. No, no, this must not be. These things make your head ache, your heart beat rapidly, your hands sweat and your fingers shake. No, this must not be! You scramble to fix these things. People point and laugh. This is amusing to them. They will alter them later simply to watch you panic once more, though they hardly understand the pain your head feels at this moment. These things must not be so. Your order must persist. Your design must be as it was. Your stomach is in knots, as if this alter of design will cause you harm. As if this change of pace will bring forth a sense of dread unknown to man and misunderstood by all who witness it. Wait…yes…yes, this is better. This is your order. Yes, you have fixed this disaster. You have brought peace to this chaos. You’ve done it! You’ve brought back your order, your design, you have recreated the life in which they have destroyed. Yes, you can breathe now. You can breathe. You can relax. All is well, and all shall remain well. So long as the order is kept…

    These things are Over Compulsive Disorder.

     

    There are more of these things.

    Perhaps we will speak of these things later.

    These things have made me tired.

    Warren G.

    "

     

    Also my Mom called me Ren. Kind of a big deal, but I'm still cautious about it. It's not like her to cooperate so well....

  4. I've been struggling a lot this week. Can't look in the mirror. Keep seeing myself as hyper masculine still. I don't know why it's bugged me so much the last few days. It's been literally a case of getting through the day minute-by-minute. I caught myself referring to myself by masculine pronouns when I'm around people I don't trust or when I'm afraid. This has been a week for strong dysphoria. I shaved. Put on makeup. But it didn't help. It's weird being agender/nonbinary that I don't necessarily want to look feminine, but I don't want to look masculine either. There is a weird androgyny that I'd like. I'm not even sure if what I'm saying makes a lot of sense. Often when I'm speaking to friends about this I say I feel masculine, they think the instant cure is to be more feminine. I had a friend do my nails for me. That kindof helped. My nails are black as night and twice as shiney. And it looks good on stage if you're playing keyboard (although given the vantage point of the stage, I guess I'm the only person who could appreciate them).

    Tonight was good though. Had another evening on stage. We did a set that we'd been practising for weeks because we kept having our gig moved or cancelled because of the strangest array of mishaps. After a while I started feeling so put out by this gig that was just never happening that I didn't have high hopes for tonight (even hoping that it might be cancelled), but it happened, we went through it, and it was a very good gig.

    11960280_10152968972296059_5194263051044

    (Me on the left, Erin on the right.)

    Either way, I don't really have much else to write. Had a weird dysphoric week, then tonight was awesome on stage. I just had a fantastic toasted sandwich from the 24 hour shop down the road from my place, going to listen to Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter's The Long Mars on audiobook now and fall asleep to that.

    You guys take care of yourselves and each other.

    Love

    Charl

    -o0o-

  5. I have recently purchased some new outdoors / country boots, because they are so much more stylish than my old walking boots which although are pretty unisex looking were none-the-less bloke boots - ughh. So these new boots are Dublin River Boots, they're almost knee length to within an inch (25mm aprx), they were advertised as waterproof and breathable with other desireable qualities too, I think they were originally for horse riding but are also advertised as leisure / country boots. So Sunday's forecast was for heavy downpours of rain, what an ideal day to test out my new boots!

    So with my friend Sharon, we set off for the small and picturesque town of Bewdley on the River Severn which is about 25 miles west of where I live. I parked my car in the station carpark and walked off north along the East bank of the river which parallels the preserved steam railway. the begining of the walk is along a delightful country lanewhich after a mile and a half or so finishes and becomes a narrow footpath. Now one of the reasons for buying the new boots was because they'd be so much better than ankle boots in tall wet grass, so i soon had an opportunity to try them out in such grass near a couple of reservoirs, they were great and totally waterproof. Continuing our walk under the railway / river bridge we were in very muddy conditions and brown puddles - no worries for my boots. We reached Arley which is the next riverside village north from Bewdley soaked through, our outdoors coats were found very wanting! so we looked like a couple of drowned rats. We had decided to cross the pedestrian only bridge & pop into the pub on the opposite bank for a pint or so of cider, it was truly delicious (Thatchers Gold from Somerset), I gave up trying to dry my hair with the hand dryer in the toilets, and sat with hair dripping whilst drinking my pint. We had decided to catch the train back to Bewdley so we set off for Arley Station a hundred yards or so uphill from the pub. If the walk took nearly 2 hours, the train journey seemed ro take only 5-6 minutes. 

    Before transitioning I used to go to this railway a lot, because Steam engines have been an interest to me since childhood, and I don't see why my transitioning should alter that, I'm highly unlikely to start liking dolls houses etc. Anyway I always used to visit the 2nd hand bookstall on the station that specialises with railway books, and the old guy that runs it used to recognise me. I was always sort of wary about marching in as Eve, but I thought that I'd had such a bvrilliant day so far, this was really the last test for me to go in search for a suitable book, and pay the old guy for it. He had seen me at a local pub in December when I first became full-time Eve and had stared at me making me feel very uncomfortable, so this was a last test of my self confidence, I just had to do it or otherwise I'd never be truly Eve. Well I did it just marched in nonchalently found a book, walked up to the counter stared him straight in the face and he served me politely, charging only £2 for a book marked at £4, I didn't really give him a chance to make me fell anything other than a customer. When we got to the car sharon said that he did look at me with a puzzled face when I walked past the counter, you know what I couldn't care less whatever or whoever he thinks I am, & yes I will return to buy more books in the future, I know now that there isn't anywhere much that I wouldn't go to.

    We both felt pleased with our walk along the picturesque river and beautiful countryside, the poor weather just added to a sense of adventure, I was in awe of my boots and the bookshop was like the cherry on top of the cake.........Eve can do whatever Steve used to do!

    Cheers,

    Eve

    NEW River DkBrn Pair.jpg.jpg

    IMG_1358.jpg

    11095389_1051753358177862_1017024494187022605_n.jpg

  6. After a good day of relaxing and playing music, yesterday was our trans discussion group's monthly outing to a restaurant (my first time going).  I decided I would wear my favorite jeans, harley boots, a really cool long sleeve long dark green top and new dream catcher necklace I purchased at the same store as the top. I wore makeup, packed my money, phone and cards in my new wallet, a nice pink Michael Kors clutch with wrist band, and take the bus.  I had a one hour ride to downtown, a 14 minute wait and a short ride to my destination which was a decent Greek restaurant.

    This was my second time going out dressed and wearing makeup and since I'm not yet on HRT, I am not passable at all....and I don't really care.  The first ride was very uneventful and when I got downtown, I waited in a glass bus stop along with a very pretty and tall black woman.  Since this was right downtown Gatineau (across the river from Ottawa) and the area has a multitude of bars and night spots, there were a lot of people walking around and I was curious to see how many times I would be noticed and looked at twice.  Aside from a couple of people staring a bit and an elderly lady giving me the "evil eye" (I just smiled back!), it was a lot less eventful than I would have previously imagined.  The lady at the bus stop even sat beside me and complimented me on my nails which was really cool!

    I met my friends, a group of MTF's and FTM's and had a great meal and even better conversation.  After the meal, we decided to head to a new chocolate/ice cream place which recently opened and when we got there ...wow!  The place was packed with a lineup about 40 feet out the door.  We waited in line and it was really worth it...great ice cream of all kinds with a selection of about 12 different kinds of chocolate dips!  

    All 8 of us stood out on the patio and talked for at least an hour before heading back...it was awesome!  This was really my first time heading out into the "unknown" being my true self and it felt exhilarating! A couple of times I noticed some weird looks and stares but the feeling of being out as myself with people just like me and their friends out weighed any issue others might have with me...that belongs to THEM, not me!  A friend from the group gave me a ride home and I slept soooo well!

    This morning when I got up I had this crazy craving for steak and eggs!  I had the steak but not the eggs so I put on a pair of shorts, t-shirt and headed to the convenience store I've been going to for many years.  I still had on the nail polish as I usually keep it on during weekends and when I'm not working.  When I walked in I was curious to see if the cashier, who is a friendly woman in her 20's, would notice or say anything.  I got the eggs, went to pay and after waiting for the only other customer to finish paying, she noticed my nails and immediately said: "Oh wow, nice nails!!" to which I replied "thanks...I like the color and don't care what people think..".  She replied: "That's great, let your girl have some fun!"

    The steak and eggs tasted great....I think I'll have a good sleep again tonight...

    Roxanne

  7. Latest Entry

    These last few months, I've been in a rut. A real rut. And on occasion this rut is deep, dark and I've had claw myself out of it.

    Thankfully, I've had friends who have been pulling me out of it, checking on me even though I have not asked for help. Often there is a great deal of shame in admitting that I need help, pride that I  can conquer things on my own and also the feeling like I am troubling others with my problems.

    Though there are times where we all must walk alone with only the Lord Jesus holding our hand, it does not have to be that way. There are people there to help, just ask. Unfortunately, those who need the help, are in most cases, the least likely to ask.

    This weekend I went to the funeral of my cousin, who took his own life. He was struggling, but most in the family had no idea that this was going on. Several years ago, he lost a child, he lost his mother (my aunt) and recently his daughter has had struggles. I knew about her struggles. I was corresponding with her after reaching out, but had no idea that her dad was having difficulties of his own. They have no knowledge of my struggles and even though my mom knew what was going on with my cousin, she didn't tell me because she knew of my struggles and didn't want to burden me further. Does any of this make sense?

    The only conclusion I can draw from this is that we need to reach out and stay in contact with others who we care deeply about, because some day they may be gone. We also need to reach out to those people we don't know, who we suspect are having difficulty.

    My cousin did all sorts of things for complete strangers. He once bought new glasses for someone he saw at a restaurant who had duct tape holding together his glasses (even though he barely had enough money of his own). He constantly helped and lended a hand to anyone who was in obvious difficulty.

    The guy he bought glasses for, that story stands out because he posted something on Facebook.

    Well, I am heartbroken. Everyone is. I've having a difficult time accepting what happened.

  8. So today was my first endo Appointment. It did not go as I'd hoped, but not for the reasons i thought. I knew that I would not start testosterone today. Let me be clear about that, right away. I was however hoping that I would find out when I get to start. I got lost on my way to the clinic because Yale New Haven Hospital is a Zoo! New Haven is a terrible smattering of crazy drivers and one way streets. Think of it like as tiny New York filled with even more assholes.

    I was late even though I set out to be 20 minutes earl I was twenty minutes late. Got charged 6 bucks for parking at the hospital. Maybe I'm just a country bumpkin, but Charge me as I'm trying to get medical treatment, WTF?

    By ten minutes in it was clear that I wouldn't be starting soon, there was discussion of who diagnosed me with gender identity disorder? Was I not being clear enough? How hard do i have to hate myself before people help with the problems I actually have. I'm sick of doctors appointments and of doctors. As she explained what my body would do on T, i got the slight inclination that she was nervous. I'm not blindly jumping into this, it's not that I'm claiming I knew everything she told me but i did know I'm not gonna be a supermodel. I have no misconceptions that I may end up looking like the hunchback of Notre Dame and that T may make my insulin resistance worse... I don't give a damn. Also if one more person informs me that I'm overweight I'm going to lose my shit! (Is there some secret to weight loss that will help me lose 60 lbs in a week or month?) I have been patient I waited three months just to speak to her! Just not a good day at all. I'm so disappointed.

    Also i have the final draft of my spoken word poem I will post it soon.

    • 0
      entries
    • 0
      comments
    • 1460
      views

    No blog entries yet

  9. Everyone will ask why you asking about chocolates, right.  Actually wrong.

     

    I've never been bound by race or religion, when it came and still comes to men intriguing me.  But I've always had a thing for someone taller and bigger body structured then my 1.74m (5ft8) structure and around 140Lbs.  The top criterion above all else, is he needs to have respect, love and adoration for me.

     

    Okay, I grew up in a time when interracial relationships were a no no, but I am grateful my dad crossed all boundaries of interracial friendships.  Say something inappropriate in front of me, and I'll put you on your place.

     

    That's probably why, all I need a man to be, is himself and respectful towards others.  If I like you, it's because of qualities you have, and loving you means our qualities are strengthened by our relationship with each other and I wNt to around you every second I can, with me time for friends.

     

    So leave me alone if the guy I choose is darker then me, because he might have been lighter, then you'd be worried over me dating him.

    • 2
      entries
    • 3
      comments
    • 94
      views

    Recent Entries

    We have got our divorce and I got full custody of our kids and I still pursued her for almost there years after our divorce because I still loved her with all my heart and was there for her every time she needed me but I guess it wasn't in God's plan because he was ready for me to be something greater at first I thought that was being a better father but as time passed I knew  that I could use some inprovment as a father I knew that was not it and I hate to sound self-centered but I have always been there for my kids and I have gave them everything I did not have as a kid they do come before anything and anyone including myself every breath I take is for them. But back to the story I knew god was ready for me to be a woman and I understand that now . I have never been as happy as I am now and as doing so it has  made me a better person and father well you could say women now and my kids are so supportive  of me and my parents are to and some of my friends are too Well at first they did not know how to take it but they are starting to come around and more open about the idea of me being a woman I know mom loves it because I help her more in the kitchen  and doing other girl stuff especially my daughter we have never been as close as we are now even though she has always been a daddy's - new mommas girl and don't take  me wrong either when I say mommas girl either because I don't ever  ever ever take her mom's place but it is sad when my daughter tells me that I'm the only one that does makeup and paint nails and all the other fun girl stuff we do together and her mot won't and as for my two boys I still love to get down on some Xbox 360 and going fishing, camping, and all the other outdoor activities with them to so I guess the moral of this story is don't be afraid to be yourself. If being different means not being normal then I'm glad I'm not normal as long as I have my kids I don't care what other people think about me if I don't like what they say then I don't have to listen like I said as long as I have the air in my lungs and my kids nothing else matters because when it comes time to stand in front of God he will be judging them and the I will have the last laugh. And remember people it don't matter if your Transgender, gay lesbian, straight as long as you are happy with yourself it don't matter what other people think you choose to let it get to you and you are not alone their are people out there that do care if not I would not be writing on this  blog so love you all and look up don't  let the trash talkers get to you keep thinking positive. 

  10. Sooooooo.......

    The weekend is almost over here, it's been a strange kind of weekend. Went to see the new Mission Impossible, which I would say is worth seeing if only because the other option is Fantastic Four. If you have ever seen James Bond, Casino Royale (the latest version) or have seen anything with Tom Cruise in it before, it's probably worth just going down to your local video store or online provider and just watch one of those instead.

    There doesn't seem to be a great deal of options in terms of new material movies around. They are either reboots or recent movies or just nothing which is breaking the ground. Even the Stonewall movie is getting bad press for being historically inaccurate (wait! Hollywood re-writing history.....I am shocked).

    On the smaller screen I am just about to sit down and watch the second installment of I am Cait which has had mixed reviews. Will stick with it and see how things go, but I am not really a committed TV programme watcher. I tend to wait for it to come out on box set or just lose interest.

    Whilst we are on about Caitlyn, somebody sent a 'funny' joke on Facebook earlier.......not that funny to be honest. But probably typifies why there will always be issues with being seen as 'different'.

    Anyway, as promised, have uploaded a few pics I have taken around the city the past week or so. If you like them I'll try and add some more as i take them.

    Have a good week

    Take care

    c.xoxo

     

     

     

     

    11229685_10207020423405955_5123729071677487484_n.jpg

    11825555_10207020425486007_3582018456279733646_n.jpg

    11828731_10207020425926018_552724284704547587_n.jpg

    11822570_10207020426486032_1923637842852291583_n.jpg

    11825183_10207020424245976_7543490015573360255_n.jpg

    11202848_10207020423845966_4763604219488564253_n.jpg

    11224535_10207020422765939_7826580064243374513_n.jpg

    DSCF5992.JPG

    DSCF5996.JPG

  11. I live in Ontario. We have a provincial insurance that covers doctor visits & surgeries (medical necessity, not cosmetic) Called OHIP (Ontario Health Insurance Plan). In order for Gender Reassignment Surgery to be covered under OHIP, you need to go through the Gender Identity Clinic (GIC) at Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH).

    In order for ANYONE in Canada to have GRS covered by their provincial health plan, they have to go through the GIC at CAMH, and the only ONE centre in the country is in Toronto. Yes, that's right, all of Canada has only one building that you must go to, in order to get assessed by a psychologist and a psychiatrist two times (4 visits) in order to tell if you are stable enough to qualify for GRS. Needless to say, the wait time is upward to 19 months - just for that process.

    I waited and went through this process. I didn't want to initially, because the CAMH program has horror stories of the way they treated patients, that asks invasive questions about your masturbation habits and kinks and other messed up stuff. My endocrinologist assured me that the GIC had an overhaul of doctors and the program standards had changed (which threw me off when I was asked these types of questions after all - which sent me into a two month depression spiral).

    There really is no public available information about the whole process and what to expect. The impression I had, was that you go through the 4 visits for the assessments, then they have a meeting and decide if you are stable. Then if you're approved, you get your funding letter. Then you find a surgeon, wait on their wait list and get the surgery. It used to be that only one doctor in Montreal (Brassard - who has now retired from FTM surgery and passed on FTM to Belanger) is the only doctor that performed surgeries in all of Canada that was covered through all provincial health plans. I'm not sure when this changed, but Ontario had made it so you didn't have to travel to Montreal. You could go ANYWHERE to any doctor who accepts OHIP.

    I was told on the phone that I had unofficially been approved a month before my final visits, I needed to attend the last set of appointments to finish the process. Excited, I called a lot of doctors (12) in Toronto, all of which told me that they do not accept OHIP coverage (but if they did, there would be a $7,400 privatization fee), or never returned my calls. I wanted to find a surgeon right away so I had a name to give CAMH, and was shocked that in the biggest city in Canada, zero doctors accept our provincial health plan benefits.

    At my final appointment at CAMH (last summer), the doctor said something along the lines of, "so you're going to Montreal then?" and that's when I told him my disappointment  of not being able to find a surgeon in Toronto, and the fact that I felt like I wasted my time, and that transparency is a huge problem because there is such a lack of information on what to expect going through the GIC (I actually recorded this appointment on my iPhone because after the questions about how often I masturbate, what I think about when I do, what fetishes I had, positions in which I have sex, I wanted proof of their treatment. I do plan on putting the audio on soundcloud when I no longer need my funding).

    So then, CAMH doctor told me that OHIP  has a list of out of country surgeons that they accept in the past, and if I find a doctor who isn't on the list, they need to make sure they can be approved. I asked if I could get this list, and no, I couldn't, it's not available. So I posed the question along the lines of, if OHIP has a pre-approved list of surgeons, why aren't they sharing it? CAMH didn't know. Long story short, I left super disappointed.

    So after about 4 months of being depressed and calling more surgeons in my area (that I could find through Google), I called CAMH back and said, sure, send me to Montreal, even though in my heart I didn't want to travel that far, I don't have the money to travel that far, and don't feel right about not having a physical consult because pictures aren't sufficient. This was in March. I got my OHIP funding letter and a package from the doctor in Montreal. I haven't filled it out yet.

    Last month, I *magically* heard about a doctor that *might* accept OHIP 20 minutes away. I had a consult with her, and she was disgusted with my story. She said she would submit the paperwork to OHIP so she could do the surgery. I told her that my worry was that OHIP would decline me because they already approved Montreal and I would have to wait until that letter expires, in two years. She looked me straight in the eye and said something like, "they're (OHIP) going to have to accept that this is unacceptable and the wait list is too long for that doctor in Montreal, nobody should have to go to Quebec for procedures." I don't remember her exact wording.

    I got a call yesterday confirming that the paperwork has been sent off, and it could take 3-6 weeks for a decision.

    For the first time in a year, I feel like I have a hope of actually getting surgery close to home, but I am still worried that it's not going to be for a while.

     

  12. Learned about the concept, "Living Apart Together," (LAT), when I was surfing the 'net for "couples living apart happily," as I love my apartment and my town, Beacon, but miss having a woman (I am a cisgender Lesbian) to love and care about, because my community (Dutchess County, NY) is very TLGB-phobic.  My additional reasons are that I am a loud snorer, and have some other habits that I am too embarrassed to talk about.  

    Interestingly, "Living Apart Together," (LAT) came up.  Most of the information about it came from England, Australia, and Germany, with a little about it from the U.S.  This is probably because the U.S. is a relatively sexually conservative country.

    How it came about was in England, during their census (like ours, every ten years), they noticed starting in the year 2000, but dramatically increasing in 2010, a lot of handwritten comments on people's census forms, explaining they were somewhere between being single and living together.  The British government hired three universities to better explain this new social trend.  

    Most of these couples were monogamous, and had various reasons for being in LATs.  

    Also, without knowing it, I realized that I was in a LAT!  Was very much in love and went with a transwoman for ten years, until her friends started getting married (at that time, Holy Unions), and she wanted to get married, too.  Was very happy to marry her, but my reasons for not marrying was I knew Straight and Gay disabled people lost their disability benefits due to marriage, fear of bankrupting my beloved (she wanted to marry me anyways), because she would then be responsible for my medical bills and medications (at that time, insurance did not cover Gay partners), she lived ten miles off the bus line (she was ok dropping me off at the nearest bus stop on the way to work), and, as a butch, I was not comfortable with a fem supporting me.  Of course, TODAY, I would have had an "underground marriage," (very common even today for people on disability), and would have kept my public housing apartment, using it for storage and as a mail depot, while living with her, just visiting my apartment once a week to clean, check my phone messages and pick up the mail.  

    The advantages may be:

    • Be able to avoid getting "underfoot" with one another
    • Great for those who travel long distances for work
    • Be able to keep the relationship "fresh" and "special"
    • Be able to connect regularly by e-mail, telephone, texting, Skype and snail mail
    • Be able to be more romantic by sending packages and gifts

    ​The disadvantages may be:

    • In a crisis, may not be able to get together as quickly as you may want to
    • Both of you must NOT have trust issues
    • Won't be able to share quality time together on a day to day basis
    • May not be the best way to raise children

    ​Realized that my relationship was a LAT, even before they had a name for it.  Also, I realized had we moved in together, our relationship would have very likely been short lived.

    Today, I am open to a LAT, either as a prelude to a living together arrangement or as a permanent arrangement.  Would try a living together arrangement on a trial basis, and, if there are problems caused by living habits, return to the LAT arrangement.

    Here are some links about LATs:

    http://www.losangeles.cbslocal.com/2013/05/10/experts-married-couples-finding-bliss-apart/

    http://www.articles.chicagotribune.com/2011-02-14/features/ct-live-0214-amy-20110214_1_couples-happy-valentine-s-day-private-space

    http://www.livingaparttogetherlat.com

    https://www.facebook.com/LivingApartTogetherLAT

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=doXVCB1KAno

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c4-q1h93Csk

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Ul9YoL7z58

    Would like to hear from others who have been in a LAT and/or living together arrangement and what you think about each!

     

  13. Tara

    • 2
      entries
    • 7
      comments
    • 111
      views

    Recent Entries

    Your world can change immensely in one day. Days, months, and years of trepidation gall away once the switch changes. Decisions, once made and committed to redefine the way we engage with the world.

    in March 2015, I boarded a train for Montreal to take me to the Centre Métropolitain de Chirugie where my body world be transformed for the last time.

    The record of my musings was recorded in this existing blog. If You like what I wrote, please let me know. I may continue at tgguide.

  14. Magnolia flowers as with many plant flowers have perfect flowers or another term bisexual flowers. This means the flower has both a functional male stamen & a female pistil flower part. Also in nature some plants are mono-ecious, meaning male & female flowers are found on different parts of the plant. This is extraordinary to me because in nature it is so common place for organisms to posses both female & male qualities. A magnolia tree could be called transgender, without an...y other conditions or stipulations. If there is such evolving happenings taking place in nature all the time. Are we as human beings not part of this earthly experience? We are so caught up in female & male identities when in nature adapting to ever changes of environment is just all about preserving life. As long as the conditions within the environment are right, nature seems to find a unique way of reproduction.

  15. I really never expected this.

    When I first started out in this journey I told myself that I didn't care what I looked like in the end. I didn't care if people always saw me as a man who wants to be a woman. At least I would be honest. At least I was being me. I could finally let go of the pain of lying and projecting myself as male that I held onto for so long like some kind of comfort blanket... made of rabid raccoons - That kept me safe... in an emotionally scarring sort of way.

    20090410-IMG_9387.thumb.jpg.520698dd1e5e"I keep telling you, nothing's wrong - I always look this intense."
     

    For a long time that was the truth. Some days were better than others in the beginning. Some days I felt I passed and other days I felt like people could see right through my wig and my makeup for the drag queen that I was. As time went on and the hormones took their toll on my face and body I actually started to feel less passable. It felt awkward but at least it still felt right. Looking back on it, the looks everybody gave me probably weren't them saying to themselves, "what a freak," like I thought they were - it was probably them being genuinely curious about my gender.

    20150222-IMG_0183.thumb.jpg.c8dee5379eaa "Why yes! This is my natural colour!"

    Looking back on a journal entry from early in my transition I remember myself stating that I wasn't sure about going all the way - that being androgynous would be enough. Funny that when I finally made it there it felt so wrong. Fear is a strong thing and I think that was my way of coping with the fact that I might not have been able to look like a woman - coupled with the fact that for a while I wasn't able to unsee my male self when I looked in the mirror. When people looked at me funny, curious about my existence, I just wanted them to see me as another girl in the street. My hair had gotten long enough (and thick enough) and I was so sick of the uncomfortable wigs that I stopped wearing them. I started to look not really one gender, not yet the other.

    1176171_10154088183255462_89380222782187 "Just guess what you're looking at. No pressure!"

    Recently I was beginning to notice that the attention was waning. Something in me started to panic. Maybe it's because I had gotten used to people's stares, I'd gotten used to room full of people who would take turns staring at me until it seemed like everyone had done it at least once. I didn't even realize that people stopped looking because they no longer register me as anything other than... female.

    Wrapping my head around this is a little weird! Maybe it's because I thought it would never happen and for a while my inferiority complex (still lingering from trying to live as a man) wouldn't let me believe that I was being seen as a woman. The only time looks linger now is because they think I'm cute! The smiles people give me aren't sinister - they're genuine. New people don't do the double-take that they once did when I walked up to them. Chatting in a cafe just today when I brought up anything trans related my friend would lean in and whisper as though no one else in the coffee shop needed to know. It was our little secret and she looked so excited for me!

    20150616-IMG_9516.thumb.jpg.58dcba264596 "Why yes, I would like to show more leg!"

    Now I need to decide what to do with this. Two years ago I told myself that I would move out of town, change my name and start a new life if I was ever able to go stealth. But with all the support and new friends I've made I can see that was a decision made purely out of fear. I've already decided that being passable is going to work a lot to my advantage but in my career and in my life I really want to get into trans support and trans rights. Why vanish when I could do much more by being visible? Apparently being passable is helpful in that regard and while I don't think that's right on society's part I want to do what I can to change the general public's viewpoint. Somehow. Slowly, surely.

    Let's see what happens now. ;)

    • 1
      entry
    • 0
      comments
    • 119
      views

    Recent Entries

    When I was a boy much like many of you I did all the usual things, riding skateboards, bikes, hanging with my elementary school friends etc. 

    My home life at this time was pretty odd, my father was a car nut and that was all he cared about when he wasn't working. All his free time and free money went into a host of cars. We as his family never knew from day to day what type or kind of car he'd come home in. So it didn't take me long to to search outside my own yard for companions. My mother and grand mother were always together at my grandmothers house watching their soaps and couldn't care less where I was or what I was into, so directly behind my grandmothers house was another house just on the other side of the driveway, this house was home to a mother, father and five girls. I can't even remember their names now save for a couple of them, but none the less. I became friends with them and hung out in their yard playing everything from dolls to making mud pies, then the house next to theirs was directly behind my house and a young girl lived there named Tammy. She and I became best friends quickly, the other girls that I played with next door were older and more interested in boys their own age, but yet remained friendly to me, but as far as playmates and companions they were not. Now Tammy and I had a unique friendship. I was perhaps 8 or 9 years old when we met. Her father and mother were strange people and fiercely overprotective of her and with good reason, she was gorgeous even as a young woman. I think she was 10 or 12 when we met. Now her father would not allow her to come into my yard or vice-versa. So we had to opt to play together through a woven wire fence where we'd spend our summers days sitting Indian style talking and playing, I'd put my hand through the fence and pass her hot wheel cars and I'd lie on my stomach in the dirt to hold her dolls upright so that we could play barbie dolls and this made her so happy and we had a lot of fun. What interests me is looking back I was always outside in my white fruit of the loom underwear and nothing more and I always remember her as being neatly dressed and groomed.

    Even to this day I think back and remember how my mother, grandmother etc; whomever was "babysitting" me always made me change into my undies before going out to play so that it'd make my school clothes last longer, but then again that was in the 1970's. Things were different, it was a different time. During all these summers I never ever pictured her as a sexual creature, it was all so innocent, then one day a family moved in two doors down from us.This is as they say is were the plot thickens....

  16. wpwyle

    • 1
      entry
    • 2
      comments
    • 128
      views

    Recent Entries

    Latest Entry

    I woke up this morning feeling like this picture... so much of me and not sure how to spread myself so that i'm not defeated.  first of all, i love life.  i am finally enjoying being the person i've always been.  and not afraid to live it.  there is so much in the world that stirs me crazy, but one thing that will always stand strong and stand out - I'm a transgender human with lots of love for family, friends, and new people. 

    • 1
      entry
    • 1
      comment
    • 134
      views

    Recent Entries

    I Have been following all the Jenner news.  This has stirred some of my recent thinking.  What is the core of why we have our feelings and want so much to change.  I think there is a certain desire to see ourselves as beautiful.  Women express this better than almost all men.  When I put on a dress I feel changed.  When I see most other men I see most of them as lazy/unkempt, fat/heavy and scuzzy.  This is the excepted image of men.  I do not fit this image and I know I am stared at a lot by other men, usually in restrooms, who do not expect a beautiful looking man.  When I look beautiful (Handsome) day-to-day, I am often mistaken for a girl, even when in unisex or masculine clothing.  I usually do not go out of my way but I am well groomed, very tan, fit and now have longer styled blond hair.  I think some of why I wish I could change is rooted in the concept of beauty - and if men could also be beautiful in what is currently a woman's norm early in life - I think fewer would be unhappy with their body image and fewer would want to change.  Here is another thought.  I think is more acceptable to be changed completely into a woman than it is to dress and adorn ones self in a similar fashion.  Yes, I would love to wear a colorful attractive dress and show off my small waist and still not try to hide that I have a somewhat feminine looking male body.  However, I feel less anxiety when I go through the complete effort of hiding any maleness as I look completely like a woman.  Also, I actually feel safer in woman mode as I do not see myself as a homosexual; not wishing for men to lust for me in this fashion.

    • 1
      entry
    • 4
      comments
    • 141
      views

    Recent Entries

    So, today I just watched my wife drive off. She's gone and I'm here at my mother's house. I was offered the chance to come back home so many times if I just do not change. It was very tempting but I know for sure that i'll just be depressed and ready to end myself if I keep living a fake life. 

    People keep telling me how this choice that I'm making is effecting everyone. Basically I'm the cause of everyone's in this situation. I understand that need a scapegoat for their pain but all I'm doing is being me. Most people get to do that with out getting a finger pointed at them. 

    I'm very thankful for all my supportive friends and some of the family that have been supportive too. This is going to be a positive change for me and I don't want to let others drag me down into the goo. 

  17. Image3.thumb.jpg.e94e657bcef887c31a667b9

    A couple or three months ago, I discovered a new channel in my cable channel line-up, and in doing so, spotted "Starsky and Hutch" in the primetime programming.  I hadn't seen it since it went off the air, though I did see the 2004 movie.  I've been watching the 1975-79 show since then, enjoying the action, and seeing things I never saw before.

    What?  :huh:

    I watched "S&H" religiously.  I even remembered that the show, at least for a while, came on on Wednesdays.  So why wasn't I able to sit back and watch the show and think to myself on occasion, "oh yeahhhh... I remember this episode!"  It was like I was seeing each episode for the first time night after night.   After about two weeks, I started googling stuff about the show - something you couldn't do back in 1975. 

    How can someone who was such a fan, remember only the characters?  Oh, and the opening theme song.  I also liked that big cannon of a .357 Magnum that Hutch used.  And I remember that brown and white cardigan that Starsky wore on occasion.  I even had a similar cardigan.  I loved that cardigan.   However, show after show, I failed to recognize any of the episodes.  Every so often, it seemed like a memory was about to be triggered.  And eventually, there was a scene in one episode that I thought I remembered.  Or maybe I just convinced myself that I remembered because it got to the point that I felt like I had to remember.  I should remember.  I didn't even remember the touchy-feely-makes-you-wonder-if-they're-gay-lovers-but-they're-always-after-the-girls kinda characters.

    After a couple more weeks of watching "S&H" reruns, and still not recognizing any of the episodes, I started wondering why.  Yes, I liked Hutch's gun - I had a toy gun similar to his when I was a kid.  And I liked Starsky's cardigan.  Did I mention that I really like that cardigan?  :lol:  And that sweater I had made me sorta feel like Starsky.  Then it hit me - I couldn't remember the show itself because of Starsky - I wished I was Detective David Starsky.  With that .357 Magnum (instead of Hutch).  That's why I can't really remember any of the episodes.  When I watched the show each week, I apparently "stepped into the TV," pretending to be Starksy.  I was the cop that got into shoot-outs, wild chases in that slick lookin' Torino, always lost out on the pretty girls to my partner.  Hutch was annoying like that.

    Now that I'm older, and have found different ways to be me...I can sit back and watch "S&H" for the first time.  But I guess somewhere deep down, I still sorta wish I was Starsky...

    • 2
      entries
    • 10
      comments
    • 248
      views

    Recent Entries

    Latest Entry

    While I was sitting at home-.. Enjoying a cup of coffee and having an online conversation with a friend of mine who're also a transgender person.

    Just chatting about clothes, make-up and everything between heaven and earth, suddenly like a lightning struck my mind is filled with doubt.

    Am I really a girl deep inside?

    Am I just having a gender identifying crises?

    Can I really live with myself if I start my transformation?

    Or am I just going crazy?

    Most of the time I feel confident that I was supposed to be a girl, other times the thought makes me sick..

    And then I can't help to wonder-.. Am I really a girl?

    Reason why I don't think I'm a girl:

    1. I was born and raised as a boy, and never thought too much about my gender.

    2. I lived my teenage years hanging with mostly boys, acting boysih.

    3. I am a cold person, and I am not so much in contact with my feelings. ( Or atleast I want to believe that.)

    4. I keep getting these huge doubt/guilty feelings once in a while.

    5. I have not, and do not act "Girlish".

    Reason I am a girl:

    1. It feels right when the doubt or guilt don't strike me.

    2. I've never been interested in most boy stuff, football, cars, sports generaly.

    3. I do remember some incidence from my childhood, and teenage years where I asked myself ( Why am I not a girl?)

    4. I love girls clothing I feel like a huge weight disappears from my shoulders when I wear girl's clothing

    6. I have always felt more comfortable being with girls.

    7. I view myself as a girl in my mind, when I think forward, I see myself as a girl.

    8. The thought of being a girl makes me happy.

    9. I like to believe my mind IS a girls.

    AND THIS IS WHY I AM CONFUSED.

    I don't want to be a boy, but I feel sick every time I start to think about taken the next "step", confronting my family..

    It all makes it seem to much easier to just-.. Keep being a boy.. Since I lived twenty years as a boy.

    It'd save me a lot of pressure, confronting..

    But it also makes me sad thinking about not pursuing my dream..

    I couldn't think of anything else that would make me as happy, as finally living in the big city.. As a girl.

    But yet I have these thoughts of remorse.

    And why do I have them, they're stupid, annoying and useless as ****..

    But Yet they keep coming up..

    I keep wondering if I'm trying to force myself into being a girl, but in reality I'm just a very confused boy?

    I didn't grow up as a girl, frankly if I ever said I wanted a dress I'm sure my dad would have beated me half dead.

    I never knew you could become a girl, I had the thought, but I didn't pursue it, and I didn't question my gender.

    I was born a boy, so I must be a boy?

     

    Writing this helped a bit-.. I'm very confused once this feeling of guilt and doubt hits me.

    Have a great day :)

  18. Wow So much has happened in the last year (since 5/1/2014) the day first saw my therapist and she said those fateful words “oh it sounds like you may be transgender.” I’d never heard those words before. But those words that have turned my world upside down. No actually they have turned my world upside right, but have turner everyone else’s upside down.

    So here’s what has happen since I heard those words
    On May 31st came out to my wife
    Sometime in July, finally said I might be transgender.
    August 29th went to my first Trans Support Group
    August 30th came out to my health coach
    October said that I am transgender
    November 2nd came out to my colorist
    November 10th met a trans friend
    November 17th came out to my doctor
    November 17th started wearing nothing but women’s clothes every day
    About November 20th stopped having migraines
    November 19th came out to my nail girl
    December 3rd came out to my massage therapist
    December 3rd through January 31st came out to about 25 sales women
    About January 1st stopped taking all medications, sleeping pills, muscle relaxers, or antidepressants
    January 10th saw new therapist
    January 11th got fitted for my first bra
    January 31st told 2 women at blood bank
    About February 1st totally accepted and even embraced the fact I am transgender.
    February 2nd came out to friend in Texas (1st guy)
    February 18th told my new doctor
    January 28th told 2 more women at blood bank
    March 16th came out to my cousin
    March 28th came out to my daughters
    March 28th through April 30 came out to 10 other sales women
    April 22nd met a new friend and she totally accepts me for me
    April 25th came out to my best friend (2nd guy)

    So now today I don’t hate myself. I don’t hate the fact I am transgender. In fact I love me for who and what am, and that’s a transgender woman.
    On the day you I firs heard “you may be transgender” and there was a magic pill I could take to make me not be trans, I would have taken it in a heartbeat.
    3 months ago I am not sure I what would have done. Today I am not taking it and there’s no way you can force it down my throat.
    I used to look at it as a curse, but now see it as a blessing. I would not want to be not trans because I would not just lose part of me, I would lose me.

    I am so much a peace with who and what I am I have not taken any numbing medications(sleeping pills, muscle relaxers, or antidepressants ) in over 4 months and have only had 1 migraine in 5 last months. I think that’s really awesome. It’s not that I feel better than I ever have it that I feel alive for the first time.
    So today I say I am transgender,

    YES I AM PROUD TO BE TRANSGENDER!!
    “oh it sounds like you may be transgender.”

    Hugs,
    Dawn Lynn
    PS by the way the translation “oh it sounds like you may be transgender.”
    for me is "of course you not a sick disgusting pervert" which is what I thought for most of the first 55 year of my life" So in essence those words have freed me from my self made prison I spent my whole life in.

  19. I wrote a book - The Definition of Normal by E S Carpenter - because I studied psychology and learned that there is a ton of educational / psychology proof that TG / TV / CD people and their admirers are NORMAL! And I am very tired of the social beating these groups get, from the so called 'normal people'.

    These lifestyles, along with LGBT have existed since humans have existed, and it is about time someone explain the educational information available, so the non-educators can learn. Seems almost all LGBT / TG / TV / CD education material is in Peer Review Journal Articles - not readily accessible to the general public. I have no idea why our wonderful higher educational system does not gladly offer access to this information - but that is a discussion for another day.

    I studied the information in the book. The pschological facts are accurate. Yes, they are woven inside a love story. ...Believe it or not, for the reasons the character 'Lorraine' gives in the book: Most people can't process formal operational thought (theory only). SO I wrote a concrete operational love story around the information, so more people would access.

    The book is free on Amazon to read. See how 'NORMAL'. Then let's talk if you want?