Our community blogs
Who doesn't love a hand full of skittles every now and then? No, I'm not going to go into any commentary on candy at this time, though. My subject is actually about love in diversity, namely the LGBT community and more specifically the pride flag. Although this site is geared more toward Trans...(fill in the blank) and our flag is a flag of different colors my intention isn't really about colors. The rainbow has been used as a significant symbol throughout our world's history. In the 16th century, during the German Peasant's War the rainbow flag was used to symbolize a new era, hope and social change. The rainbow flag represent the city of Cusco in Peru. It represents Buddhism, In the 1920's it represented the International cooperative Movement, which stood Unity in diversity and in 2001 it became a logo for the I.C.M., placed in the middle of white background. Each color representing different meanings:
- Red - Courage
- Orange- visions of Possibilities
- Yellow - The challenge that Green has kindled..
- Green - A challenge to strive for growth
- Sky Blue - A goal to achieve global unity
- Dark blue - Helping those less fortunate
- Violet - Warmth, beauty and friendship
In 1961 the rainbow flag stood for Peace. Then in 1978 Gay Pride!
Yup the good ol' rainbow flag in unity and love. The colors have traveled around the world to arrive in this day and time as a symbol of hope and an expression of courage . It has been told that in various countries that gay men signaled others by the wearing of a specific color. In England they wore green carnation, in Australia the color was yellow, usually in the form of socks. At one time, somewhere, the color was purple, as in "Purple Power". During the holocaust a pink (gay) or black (lesbian) triangle was used for the prisoners. Now brought together in the form of a flag that not only represents rights but also pride.
As the story goes that the original rainbow was created by the Hebrew/Christian God as symbol of a promise with love. Now please don't take me as a hater when I say that it should be returned to be just that, a promise with love or in love. I don't mean in love with your partner, but in love with each other as a whole. This world needs to learn to love one another. Across the oceans and across the land. The rainbow flag needs to be spread over the globe not only in the homosexual community, but in all community, all cultures,(or sub cultures) in all society. Remove all labels and just as the colors of the flag came from around the world let it now fly around the world in love and unity in diversity.
So I have to move out my apartment due to breaking up with my ex. Which is great! it's great because though we get along and we will always be friends, we need different things from our partners that neither of us are going to get. I am packing all my junk, and realizing I have way too much. As I pack though I found tons of pictures of me from what I call the dark ages. The Dark ages were the period of time after high school but before college, a whole six years for me, in which I went back into the closet and suffered a period of self harm and also a mental break down. I survived through a period of sever depression that I didn't even realize I was going though until I was lying on my bed with a butcher knife. I realized how dark I'd gotten I vowed to never ever let it get that bad ever again.
I feel like if I don't share this part of my life than I'm not being straight with people when I say life gets better. This part of my life that led me to who I am today. This time of my life that made me realize that nothing matters if you can't find that happiness in yourself. That there is nothing selfish in transitioning, but its wicked selfish to kill yourself. I say that because of the potential each of us has that is wasted when cut short. I know the insanity of fear and the desperation that comes along with it. I also know that taking your own life in your hands can be the most powerful and freeing feeling in the world and there has never been any grater feeling in my life than that gift. It was a gift I earned by staying alive despite the pain along the way.
As I Sit in my bedroom packing all of my belongings, trying to breathe as this cold ravages me, I cannot help but be excited for the road ahead of me. I am terrified and yet so emboldened by the fear that I have this duplicitous euphoria. Today is May 27, 2016 and I am Benjamin Crowley twenty five nearly twenty six year old black transgender man living in the United States at time feels terrifying and electric at the same time.
Terrifying because as I grow older race, which had never been a problem for me and mine, is becoming an odd affront to society. Actions that others take for granted I never previously would have thought were racially motivated have become a stark raw truth to be being black in America. I feel nervous as I transition that people will interpret me differently because of the projection of my identity into a public spotlight. This however is at the back of my mind as I sort through my things.
At the fore front is the power held in the words, “I am enough.”
I am enough. Similar words blazed though my head four years ago nearly to this day as I worked a warehouse job slaving into the night earning more money than I knew what to do with. I had no kids no titles and no self-worth. I had let others dictate to me what my future held and in the stagnant space between their idolization of the hardworking young black woman whom earned her keep I found myself in a great state of melancholy.
What does it mean when you have everything you could materialistically want and are still unhappy?
I weighed 150 lbs. and had kinky over processed blond hair, a nice body and a sad smile. I hated myself. The person they all knew, who wore punk make up and listened to green day… she was a lie. She was only happy when it rained, hated bras and wore heels in a defiant streak of masochism. It wasn’t until she faced self-demolition did she realize that what everyone though she was wasn’t her at all.
In fact she wasn’t even a she. Never in her head did she see herself as a ‘She’. In her head her self-reference was always ‘I’ and when it ventured to the dangerous gendered lands of pronouns she, realized, had always been a he. So where was she now? Hiding in conformity because she was scared of losing everything she had. But she was already loosing…
This path she was one would never make her happy. So he cut off all his hair. Stopped wearing make-up and heels. Stopped bleaching his hair. Stopped starving himself to be pretty and started loving himself a bit more every day.
Started college. Manically picked out masculine clothes. Introduced himself as Ben. Learned self-love and proudly thinks, “I am enough.”
Thank you everyone again for you viewership.
It's been 8 months since I have been on HRT, and I am feeling great. It's amazing how smooth my process has been. I am a senior in high school and I already have my name and gender marker changed legally and I am living my life authentically, I am extremely proud of how far I have come in just 2 years. I have opened so many people's minds about my community and I have been given so many opportunities so represent my community. I can't wait to experience more!
Haven't felt like doing much of anything and really have been just going through the motions. My cat, the cat that Bree got when I was way down from my bout with cancer back in the early aughts, had her own bout with cancer and lost. Initially they thought it was lung cancer and gave us steroids to help her fight it, but it turns out that was just the secondary cancer. She stopped eating, started having seizures almost every hour and was falling apart. When we took her into the vet that's when they found the brain tumor just by looking in her left eye. The tumor hadn't been visible the last visit at all and it was pressing in on her brain causing the seizures, loss of appetite and all that. At fourteen years old and with no real options left I had to say goodbye to her. Our son was there, Bree was there, everyone that was close to her was there, but it was still hard as hell. I'm tearing up now writing about it and it's been a week. I imagine this is going to last a while.
I miss my cat.
I did start getting somewhere with my therapy. My therapist does like that I'm trying to keep a written journal which I write in when I'm feeling things and what thoughts are driving them since most of the time I feel numb and can't really feel anything at all except an overwhelming case of meh. Ultimately what she has tentatively diagnosed me with is Persistent Depressive Disorder, also known as Dysthymia. It's a possibly ongoing depression, not necessarily major, but it can cause most of what I've got going on in my head most of the time. She and I discussed my abuse as a child, we touched on my gender identity confusion, some of my emotional triggers and she did suggest that a combination of treatments would be good for me, so it looks like I'll be getting some medication to take some of the edge off while I try and work with her to figure out what I can do with or without the medication to deal with this, so I guess that's good. I don't necessarily feel good or bad about the diagnosis. I mean I figured I had something going on in there, only now it has a name.
I have been a bit mean to Bree and it's not been fair. I did apologize for it and I've been trying to be more mindful of my mood and what's coming out of my mouth or going on the keyboard. She doesn't deserve any ire I might be feeling. I've had a few really down days which hasn't been helping and I'm weening myself off of caffeine bit by bit. I'm drinking almost none at home and although I've been bad a few days here with lunch and dinner, it's mostly been water or tea. I'm drinking more water at work and less coffee. There is still a bit of soda but not much there. I'm sure that's been a bit of the issue, but being down makes me a bit of a jerk to be around, especially when I can't seem to bring myself to do or want to do anything and that's on me, not Bree. Ugh.
I did touch on my gender confusion with my therapist and we talked about why I've gone down the crossdressing route instead of pursuing transition and she did question if I'm doing it to please everyone else and not myself, and no, this is as much about what I need and want as everyone around me. While it was tempting to look at transitioning as this magic pill that would fix everything, that's not going to do it for me. The underlying problems I'm having that led to the depression will still be there and a whole host of new ones. I'd still have to deal with my childhood abuse, my procrastination, self-loathing, laziness and problems being social with people I want to be social with. That isn't going to just vanish with transitioning and right now I'm really doing the crossdressing to feel better and elevate my mood from being low or to raise it a bit so I feel happier, it's not so that I feel normal like I'd originally thought. I was doing it to feel and while I do feel more like my old self, I also get that when I settle in and have some fun at things I'm supposed to be having fun at. A few different road trips with Bree to our favorite restaurant and to the zoo and just being with her in general and engaging on the same level that we used to when we first started dating really opened my eyes to that.
Working some of this out has helped, but right now I'm kind of still grieving even while I'm trying to feel better and it's just kind of putting me in this spot where I don't want to do much of anything. Being a bit more creative has helped a bit, but I have to prod myself into doing that. Once I'm in that head space I have a lot of fun with it until things go sideways and then I just kind of shut down. I'm definitely a work in progress at this point. I have a whole host of problems to work through, but I have a great wife and life with Bree who's been nothing but supportive through all of this. I have a diagnosis now and at the very least a hope that I can get to feeling more like I used to with a big ole smile on my face.
Right now though, I'm still missing my cat.
Joined this site a few days ago after many years of fantasizing wondering what it would be like to explore what i was really feeling inside. Did some deep soul searching and realized that to feel complete, i have to explore and sort through my emotions. I have been supressing and fighting my true feelings. I am on a fact finding mission. This is the first i am expressing any of these feelings. It feels good talking about this.
Trans Workers UK is a Facebook closed group that advances Trans rights in the UK workplace, I'm a member of the group and regularly advice is sought and given by trans workers on most aspects of being trans at work. However by far the most numerous postings are for trans who are still "in the closet" as far as work is concerned, who are wanting advice from those of us who are fully out in the workplace and in life. Most of these folk have come up against the societally conditioned old barrier, that they'll be ridiculed, or lose their jobs and workmates, this is by far the biggest hurdle that we have to overcome, it's our pre-judice, based on experience in society at large. Most don't realise that it's 2016 & not 1975 anymore, and that attitudes have moved on.
Anyway I posted my recent experience to help them overcome their fears;
"Last week my employer (a County Council) sent me on a Fire Risk Assessors course, with a view to my carrying out Fire Risk Assessments for the Council's properties. This sort of fits in with my existing role as a H&S Advisor. Anyway I was kinda nervous about attending the course which was held at the Firefighting College in Moreton in the Marsh. I had imagined it as being a very male orientated place, and half expected to be stared at or have the occassional joke or wise crack made at my expense. I couldn't have been more wrong, I was pleasantly surprised to find that doors were held open for me by smiling young firefighters, who were also very polite. I thought wow, if anyone had told me 3 years ago that I'd be wearing knee high boots, treggings, leopard print top, make-up and attending as a woman at the firefighters college, I'd have said "yeah, in your dreams". But there I was doing it. So to all who are contemplating gender change at work, but think it's impossible, think again, I've done it, it's so much easier than you might think. No, as a male I was not a small built effeminate man, I was a 100 kg 5'10" bloke with wide shoulders and narrow waist, and yeah, I thought it impossible to do what I've done, and yet here I am as Eve, my true self. I hope that this helps to inspire others to to do what they really want and not hang about wasteing time, I regret not doing what I did much earlier in my life. Good Luck to you all xx".
I came home with this blog post in mind, thinking about it the whole way. But while I sit here and stare at my bright screen in a dark room, I some how second guess my motives. Either it to vent my emotions, or either it is to educate others. Perhaps it is a bit of both. I'm posting this briefly before I lay myself down to rest from work, having just gotten home and showered as quickly as I could before the routines of others came into play and prevented me from brushing my teeth. Again.
The topic I want to drag into the open once more today, though I'm sure you're all tired of hearing about it, is Multiple Personality Disorder.
It not only baffles and infuriates me to no end but it also greatly saddens me that anyone of sound mind would assume, even for a second, that this disorder is a matter of fiction. That the mere aspect of having Multiple personalities within your mind is simply a play at gaining attention or affection. The sheer fact of how challenging and frustrating it can be, and often is, completely confuses me when I hear others telling their friends how Multiple Personality disorder is a made up disease by people who crave attention. Much to the assumption that being transgender is only for attention, I suppose. I'd like to put a few things down that have very recently plagued me for the past month...
I wish it was only for attention. I greatly do. Because if it were for the simple reward of attention, I could merely shut it off whenever it suited me and forget about it completely until I felt lonely enough to gain more attention from it. People hardly ever realize how difficult life can be when you're juggling your daily routine around several other opinions in your head. Something as simple as remember to eat breakfast can be a daunting task, as you may be just about to eat but another personality takes front instead, skipping the meal or not feeling hungry; and by the time you return...half the day may have gone by. Or perhaps you're a victim of 'triggers' that can easily upset other alts and send you into an episode of emotions and hallucinations. Perhaps you're driving your vehicle at 65mph on the interstate and your child alt decides that he wants to try driving like the adults do. This could spell instant disaster for not only yourself and your 'headmates' but for anyone else on the road as well.
Any spare thought you have to yourself could easily be shared with your group without you giving permission for such. Any idea you have can easily be stolen from your thought, and taken by another. You may be neck deep in a task that you rather enjoy, when suddenly you're six hours away and your hobby is no longer in your hands. You wander and look for it, wondering where it's been placed. When you ask others, they'll simply ask you "Where did you have it last?"
Well, that's simple. I had it in my hands. Six hours ago...But then they may go on to discribe that you didnt seem to worried about it five minutes ago. But they also do not realize that the body moved, the mouth spoke, the lungs let you breathe and the eyes let you see. But they did so for someone else. Your own body betrayed you and allowed someone else to misplace your things, change your channels, change your style. But its not even your own body, now is it? No, you share it. As daunting of a task as it is to share your personal things and to have to hand over possessions that you love dearly, you must also remember never to alter your physical because...you share it. It's not yours. Not really.
Anything you do must be discussed in a group format, if possible, so as not to upset someone else that you literally must listen to for the rest of your life. Every minute is shared, every secret is spoiled. Any memory you wish to keep sacred and to yourself, you must spend extra energy to keep guarded. By the time you have your most precious memories guarded safely away from the prying eyes of others within your mind---you've far too little energy to even bother fronting at all. You may drift off for the day, for a week...for a month perhaps. Everything requires energy, and you must not forget....you share that too.
Your most intimate thoughts...you share. Your most secret fears...you share. Your most tragic memories...you share. Nothing is yours anymore.
Sometimes even, you will discover your secrets have been shared with someone without your permission, and only because that alt had been clumsy enough to not delete his text messages...
If you make a private account on a computer, a place to call your own and to try and hide away from the other voices that constantly ask you questions or bicker about when one should be allowed to color while the other wishes to watch television...dont forget. You share everything. That password you thought was your own? No, no..they often see those. Although you dont look at the keyboard, your mind remembers the placement and the letters and therefore; the words. The password is not yours anymore.
Being a Shepard Alt is just as difficult and I implore everyone with DID or MPD to please appreciate the chaos that your Shepard must endure. They must be the ones to dictate who may come and go and when they may do it. When one may color while the other watches his television show, while juggling who will be able to go to work tonight and do a good job; all the while balancing out when your host may have private time of his own with his boyfriend. While doing all that, you must try to not play favorites else it makes the other alts jealous and therefore rebellious. And nothing is more frustrating than a rebellious personality who, by the way, also has control of your limbs.
This is why it confuses me.
Why the idea of this disorder being simply for attention is such a drastic blast of false assumptions that it makes my head spin. Well...our...head spin. Mental disorders and diseases take so much of your life away, that you hardly seem to realize you're even living anymore. It takes up so much of your time, that a year can go by and you regret not doing anything productive with it. Your job may be in danger of termination every time you decide to relax and let another take your place, as mine is in now. Unknown to me, jobs have not been done properly. This was brought to my attention tonight when I was informed that my duties are being limited during the summer, and my boss is doing everything she can to keep me from being terminated from too few hours given. Bless her, I know she is trying to make sure I stay employed. But she also is not aware of the personalities that I try so desperately to keep within my head. Fact is...she does not even know I exist. Simply that I am speaking in my host's stead, but she will only know me as him.
And so we come to another piece of the never ending puzzle.
Being invisible. No one will know you if you are not the host. Not really. You may never walk to a crowd and hear your name spoken first, or at all. You may not even see your name on paper unless written in secret by your own hand. You may or may not ever have the opportunity at physical affection or intimacy, as these are usually things that the Host keeps for themselves. If this is different for you, please understand that you must appreciate this. Not every alt has this opportunity.
Take every opportunity as a blessing, in fact.
Some of us may simply be a manager, and never a person.
Please be kind to Multiple Personalities....we are many, we are important, and we are often but shadows in your bright world.
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Day one Post Op:
Pain and Mobility Expectation - To be too sore to live and need help with absolutely everything.
Reality - I have taken my pain meds every 4 hours, and I am not in much pain, just a little sore. It's more of a discomfort.I am able to lift cups of water and pillows. I can't lift my arms higher than my chest muscles, but turn on lights using my head. I couldn't twist bottle caps off yesterday but I can tonight.
Comfort (sitting, lying) Expectation - I wasn't sure, but was expecting it to be miserable and hard to get up and down.
Reality - I first have to use my LEG muscles to sit on the edge of the couch and slowly scootch back. I have a "dead" neck pillow behind my low back, two firm pillows propping up my legs and a pillow under either elbow, plus a neck pillow. My caregiver needs to add these to my sitting situation. Bed is the same except I have a regular pillow under my back and a leg pillow sits slightly under my butt. If it's not there, I am not comfortable at all.
Sleeping Expectation - I thought I'd be out cold for a week!
Reality - The most sleep I have had in one batch was 2 hours and 16 minutes. Oddly, I am not that tired. As soon as I watch tv, I doze. I hear the show with my eyes closed, but not sleeping per se.
Burping Expectation - None.
Reality - OMG OUCH! Also,last night I thought I was going to vomit prior to every burp. I got the bucket ready, and just burped into it (Except once, which was just from eating an orange)
Drain Tube Expectation - Not sure, but assumed there would be some.
Reality - None.
Bruising Expectation - Lots and dark.
Reality - Minimal (but I guess it could get worse over the next few days)
Recovery isn't as terrible as I thought it would be. I don't know what would happen if I wasn't taking my pain meds though. I saw my surgeon for follow up today, and the car ride sure sucked with all the bumps. My left nipple is still bleeding, she said thats normal. It also appears that I do have nipple sensation still, which was very important to me. She asked if I could feel my nipples, and I said no, so she came over and scratched me harder than I was doing and I felt a tiny sensations. She said that would most likely come back stronger with time.
The most odd thing about this experience is that a small portion of my bottom lip is numb, still 46 hours post op. It's from the ventilation tube.
Honestly, the worst part about this entire experience was getting the IV put in. I have small and curly veins, so they pricked me a few times. I was also expecting my hand to be bruised because if it, but nope, not at all.
I guess if I had to give advice to anyone having (top) surgery in the future it would to be to work your core and leg muscles, because those are the ones you'll use to get up and down. Also, have a wide variety of sizes and firmness in pillows on hand.
It's been a little while, been very busy. Now starting laser treatement and soon starting hrt. Really excited about this all and am now fully out and refered to as luna etc ... correcting a few people here and there however very much enjoying existing as me and not my old self. I miss being around here much and hopefully will make some time to be more present on here. Work has been keeping me busy with many projects and all sorts of good new things. I look forward to reading all the posts and blogs I have not been able to attend to till now. Hope to catch ya'll people soon. <3 <3 <3
Wait for meevery moment passes taking its toll.Remind me, I can not remember if it was lost or something they stole;Forgive me, forget me, do not weep.As I will only sink further drowning in the deep.With but a faint whisper, be quiet, be still. I just want to sleep.There is only silence beyond the coldA throat that which sorrow took grasp, took hold.Cry out! Cry out! I can not breathe;Is there nothing I can do? nothing I can say?To implore you to holdout for another day.Perhaps I am your friend or a stranger you have yet to meet.Just take my hand I will help you to your feet.Look me in the eyes and just stare,You will begin to realize I do care.Open your heart let me see,I will come, please wait for me.- J Anderson.
[TRIGGER WARNINGS; INCEST, CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE, SUICIDE, VERBAL AND EMOTIONAL ABUSE.]
Basically the gist of this is never casually joke about suicide and incest, ever.
I've found that support for myself as a transgender person among other transgender people is almost non-existent. So the gloves are off. I'm coming right out with my worst secret and wanting it public.
This post isn't a fancy infographic and it hasn't any gifs of gyrating bodies. It has no pictures or selfies or cats. It has no links to news stories or articles. This post is a news story all its own. It's one of the worst things you will ever read. All of it is true. God knows I can't put hours into one of my other posts and exist. My posts require you to read. So here goes: no setup, no build, no background. No one's reading this far anyway.
My Mom knew I was a girl. But, she also had a thing for teenage boys and everyone including my friends knew it. When I was 11 or 12 she stripped naked in front of me and showed me how women masturbated. At some other point, we had intercourse. She was attracted to me. She needed her fix of teenage boys through me. We kept this a secret because we knew how violently my biological father would react.
Later on, we knew we couldn't live with ourselves. I was suffering from an eating disorder, bipolar disorder and gender dysphoria. I was vulnerable. At some point, we made a suicide pact. We would at least die on the same day, if we couldn't die together.
On March 17, 2009, the suicide pact was finally enacted. She died, I tried but didn't. Why I am still alive is a story for another time. Recently, I tried to tell my biological father that my anorexia had relapsed and I wanted to get some help getting something to eat. He chose to humiliate me in a public place instead.
I went home and stared at a suicide note I had written a while ago, thinking they would be my last words. My biological father has permanently surrendered his right to talk or look at me again.
It is a miracle I am still alive and I get no credit for my strength of character to avoid suicide. I am not the rich spoiled brat transgender woman that tv news and daily newspapers favour. My pain is much, much deeper than getting bullied at school. But I am invisible.
I do not hate my Mom. Her illness was not unknown and she clearly overcame it when my sister and youngest brother were most vulnerable. No physical damage or consequences came of it, like pregnancy or an STD. I love my Mom and I think in penitence she has become my guardian angel. She is a very good guardian angel. I also had a vision of her as The Shepherdess of the Garden of Twilight, the title of one of my novels. But her role as such a Shepherdess is for another post.
No, it is my other family I hate because of this. They should be taking care of me and helping me heal. Instead, they think I am better off never hearing from them, and if I never contacted them, I could accurately say I have no family at all.
I have been through 23 years of therapy for my damaged childhood, and my family. I will not be polite about it amymore. It has ruined my ability to enjoy sex with partners. But I said to my biological father "my anorexia has relapsed" and he chose to humiliate me anyway. My anorexia relapsed because trauma about my sex with my Mom had been released. My therapist thinks I'm cured just by saying I was sexually abused. I don't think any other therapist will help, please have empathy and do not suggest any.
I confessed these things because no one is reading. This is a long-form entry like my others and because it requires reading skills that high school students are no longer required to have, this blog entry is as invisible as I am.
My name is Debora Simon. My email is firstname.lastname@example.org | My twitter handle is @areaeightyfour | My facebook page is easy to find under Debora Margaux Simon | Please DM me on twitter or PM me on facebook or email me to contact me.
Today, Friday, 20th. November, 2015, is the Annual; International; Transgender Day Of Remembrance - ( TDOR ) . Let's Wear Something Purple, in Support Of The Rainbow Flag. If We Can't make it to A Comemorative Event, then We Can still show Our Support, for those Less Fortunate, than Ourselves, Who have lost Their Lives, at the Hands of Other's, or Have Taken Their Own Lives. Here in the UK, We should remember the Transgender Lady, Who had been put into an All-Male Prison, at Leeds, in West Yorkshire. Sadly, She took Her Own Life, in the Last Few Day's ! I WILL Wear Something Purple Today, as I Am a 53 Year-Old; Transitioning Male-to-Female Transsexual, Myself. Please, join Me, and Other's around the World, in showing Our Support Today, this Transgender Day Of Remembrance - ( TDOR ) . Thank You Very Much. Regards, Stephanie.
Sometimes things are happening in a rush, like when the river hits the rapids. All you can do is try to hold on and keep your head above water. . . and just hope you miss the rocks. There have been at lot of those rapids during this 6 month trip. In fact the flow has been mostly rapid. what a ride. And amazingly I look up and see that familiar face, The one I've been looking at for 11 years, 10 of which she really had little clue about the girl that was stuffed deep inside me. When Annette met Andrea.we both felt this bond, hard to understand and I won't attempt to explain, but the emergence of a previously unknown woman, who brought with her many unknown things, didn't seem to really be significant, the bond was mysteriously very strong. As I first stepped onto my road to transition, she stepped with me. And I look up while swirling thru the rapids and there she is, her face showing a web of emotions, that look that shows exactly how I feel. What a totally exciting, scary, thrilling, mind bending trip. . . for 2!
The crashing wave of this last rapid is called 'delay' forces beyond our control add 7 more days to the countdown. We have been on a schedule these 6 months, we can do this by turkey day and we can get back to work before all the money disappears, After 67 years I have a 6 month window to make Andrea Jean's dream come true. This is really my first opportunity, ever, but it is a limited time offer
I had a moment yesterday morning, the thought that it might not happen, I might be this close, but never able to make the 'cross-over'. I thought I may be sentenced to a life of unacceptable gender bending form. I felt the weight of real depression overwhelm me.I cried, and became amazed at the strength of my feelings, I had never felt it as powerful as I did then. I was just so driven to get my body right, I was numb.
I woke up this morning and set out to make sure this gets done, a mind set and a course of action, be sure it happens ON THAT DAY, anything else is unacceptable. My fear, that moment of absolute clarity, and absolute depression has inspired me, I am going to do what it takes, no surrender, no prisoners, no failure. With a touch of logic, I believe I can do this. . .I see the surgeon on Tuesday, the moment of truth.
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Today I was wondering what a good haircut for my face shape would be.
I daydreamed a bit about how nice it would be to have a list of celebrities with my facial shape. Then I could just look at their best looks. OK I was being lazy....
Anyway that led me to this site http://www.pictriev.com/ which it just so happens does not require an account or social media login.
I just uploaded a "casual" pic wearing light makeup and a cheap wig.
Apparently I need to step up my game. The cruel and unforgiving masculinity meter tipped to 53%. It did however offer me 3 cis female celebs that I resemble to varying degrees of fidelity. A quick googling later and i had some hairstyle ideas!
Now its off to Amazon to looks at wigs. Wheeee
I have always had abandonment issues. I guess I always knew that things will eventually get to this point in my life where not only everyone I love and hold dear no longer have the inclination or strength to stand by me but I, myself have to abandon my own life which has been built on a lie.
It this point I feel helpless against the current pulling me towards my transition. I tried to stem the tide and pretend it is not so but, I lost the battle and like before have no otherway but forward.
People say I am selfish but, from where I stand the selfish thing to do is suiside which again seems quite attractive as apposed to faking another 30 years of my life.
No I will move forward and live my life by embracing myself and the people who have the courage, like me, to live life against the ods.
I haven't posted anything here in a long time. The last time I posted the reality had just started to set in about what life was going to be like going forward. I have been on HRT for almost 4 months now and life has gotten a lot easier. Hiring a lawyer made me feel a lot better about the upcoming divorce. I'm full time in public which is still really nerve racking but I'm forcing myself outside of my comfort zone. Doing my own makeup is now a thing too. Its a lot easier than I expected except I have trouble with eyeliner. Things have started to develop up top as well.
Overall I'm in a much better place despite the fact that not everything , including the divorce, has been handled yet. I was emotional a lot during the first couple of months of HRT but that may have been due to all the stress in my life.
I just wanted to come in here and vent in a blog to other transgender people who may know how I feel or what I'm going through.
The Blossoming of a Butterfly
Chapter 2, the teen years
By Erika Nicole West
As I got into my teen years, my body changed from a big chubby fat kid to a lean muscular kid. This was attributed to playing intramural basketball in 5th and 6th grades. I sucked as a player but I was one of the taller kids and big, so I got in the way a lot. I remember running lots of stairs getting into shape and it literally ran the pounds right off of me. I can remember looking at my 7th grade class picture and I was actually skinny, which I had never been before in my life. I don’t recall doing much cross dressing in 7th grade, I was just beginning to become interested in girls and I was sure they wouldn’t understand. After 7th grade, my parents sold their house and we moved to an older home in a little town. They had bought the house my mother had grown up in and it was in poor shape and in need of remodeling. We moved into a rental, 2 doors up the street. This was the point in my life where I changed from a fairly lazy kid into a lean working machine. My older brother had broken his foot and was in a cast and my younger brother was too young to be much help, so the burden of moving the household was on my dad and I. Of course the women in the family helped with the smaller items but moving the furniture and appliances and what have you, well, I got a crash course on moving heavy stuff. Anyway, once the move was complete and we were nestled into the rental house, the cross dressing began again.
One outfit I recall of my sisters that I found particularly sexy was what was popular at the time, 1973 I believe, a black body suit couple with a knit pair of very pink slacks. You could lightly see the outline of the black body suit under the pink, just loved that contrast. I was thin in those days, so I actually looked pretty good in it, so I thought anyway. What I wouldn’t give to be that thin today!
So 8th grade was an epic year for me, I learned work ethic, I was cross dressing again and I had learned to masturbate. When I say masturbate, I mean masturbate. It wasn’t easy either as I shared a room in the rental house with my younger brother. We had metal cabinets that we hung our clothes in that separated our beds. I remember one time he asked me “What are you doing over there?” as I was feverishly pounding my new found toy. Of course he could hear the heavy breathing, dead give- away, but him being younger, not sure he caught on. Once I mastered the technique, I practiced it often, every day for sure, sometimes 2-3 times a day. I would wear open sores on my schlong at times and have to switch hands so as not to irritate it more until it healed. I speculate I masturbated 360 out of the 365 days a year all through high school.
My masturbation material was thoughts in my head of images I had either actually seen or pretended to have seen. My most erotic thing growing up was again and still, my panty fetish. Nothing aroused me more than seeing the bikini outline through a girls dress or pants or the holy grail of fetishes, the rare but ultra-hot view of catching a view of a girls panty via a crotch shot. I loved catching a peek whenever I could, either by accident or selectively positioning myself where I could. I used to long seeing girls wearing pretty dresses, wishing, hoping I could catch a glimpse, much less have a chance to wear the dress!
My high school years were spent mostly chasing girls and being a jock. I had become a decent 3 sport athlete by this time, football, basketball and baseball, with football being my priority. I actually had set the school record for rushing yards for a freshman with 1,100 some odd yards in 7 games. Not too bad for someone who wanted to be a woman, this was in 1974.
On instance I remember my junior year on the varsity football team, we were playing away. The visiting team always used the girls locker room, so when we entered, I noticed a pair of mint green satin bikini panties laying on the floor. So me being the opportunist that I was, I positioned myself in proximity of the panties and devised a plan. When the game was over and I was showered and changed my close, I was going to scoop my stuff up and snatch the panties in with my gear and take home with me. I had plans for these! I would have many ultimate and erotic masturbation fests at the expense of these panties. I liked to rub myself with them until I ejaculated. Anyway, just as I was about to put my plan into action, some jackass grabs them up and starts prancing around the locker room with them horsing around. I was devastated! My whole plan was up in smoke! My world was shattered! I had never had a pair of panties other than my moms, or sister’s, this was a whole new world for me! I was heartbroken, but lived for another day.
My first sexual experience with another person was when I was 15. One of my non-jock friends who lived in the same town I did called me up and asked me if I wanted to stay over that night. His parents were out of town and he didn’t want to be there alone. I said sure so I went over there and watched some TV until bedtime. Now, for some reason that escapes me, that particular day I was off of my normal masturbation schedule, it had been a couple of days since I had unloaded me sweet concoction of my loins. So we headed to bed and he suggested we sleep in his parents room, since it was a king bed and was lots of room. I said “sure, sounds fine to me” in my still naïve’ way. So went to sleep and sometime in the middle of the night I woke up with a raging boner and my friend was rubbing it! OMG I thought, at first I was mortified, but then I succumbed to the pleasure as it’s not like I hadn’t thought of this sort of thing before. To be fair, of course, I started rubbing him as well and we both were enjoying it. I finally pulled his head down on me and exploded with the most massive orgasm I had ever had at the time. Seemed like it last for several minutes. I was too shy to return the favor, after all, I was a jock on the football team, so I went to the bathroom to clean up. After washing, I noticed his mother’s light blue satin nightie hanging on the door. It had thin white lace around the edges of the sleeves. Of course I couldn’t resist but to try it on! So on it went and I pranced about the bathroom a bit then the thought occurred to me,” should I go out into the bedroom with it on? I could be a woman for him and he could take me from behind!” Oh, the temptation was so great but I gave way to my jock senses and took it off and hung it back on the door. I went back to bed and he proceed to go down on me again and worked me up to another orgasm, granted less dramatic, but still a fine one just the same. I still couldn’t bring myself to return the favor.
The next few days after that, I couldn’t get it off my mind. I was so mad at myself for not being a better participant. So, to make things right, I went over to his house one day after school about a week later, went into his bedroom, blocked the door with a hair, un buckled his pants and proceeded to give him the blow job I had always dreamed about giving. It only lasted about a minute and he blew his load in my mouth and down my throat and I knew at that point that was something I wanted to do again and again and again!
While I was in high school, I started working on Saturdays for an older, single man that lived in town. I had gotten the job via my older brother as he had worked for him for a bit and then moved on to something else. He was working on fixing his house up and I was becoming very handy at doing things from working with my dad on the fixer upper house they had bought earlier. So anyway, I would go over on Saturday mornings and do whatever it was he wanted to do, put ceiling tile in, or paint or what have you. Some days all I would do was drive him to the grocery and bring him home and he would cook us food. He always paid me $20 for the 4 hours I would spend with him. He had an attractive niece that would come around on occasion and I mentioned how I would like to do naughty things to her. He said we could fix the upstairs bedroom up and maybe I could get her up there sometime. So, we had the bedroom almost completed and were walking up the enclosed narrow staircase on day and all of a sudden he grabs ahold of my manhood. I’m in shock! It suddenly dawned on me that the nice, new bedroom wasn’t for me and his niece, it was for me and him! He told me that he had lube and that it would slide in easy and all. With me already being a little partial to that by this time, the only thing that saved me was the fact that he wanted me to do him, vs. him doing me. Well, no way that was happening as that wasn’t and isn’t my thing. In this life, I firmly believe that things happen for a reason, good and bad. I quit my job there that day and it was only a couple years later, he died of some mysterious disease that no one knew what it was at the time. The year was 1976 and he had died of what we now know is AIDS.
That was about the extent of my memorable events in high school. After all, I was a jock, no jock wears sissy clothes or touch other guys junk, that is just queer!
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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...
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.
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
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.