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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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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....
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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.
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.
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
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.”
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.
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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?
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Well good evening!! This blog will serve different purposes for me, the main one is that it helps calm me down when I write, and I am able to express myself better thru writing. The transition is happening later in my life, I am 46, almost 47. I have been married for 21 years and have a son who is 15. And let me preface the spouse and son ARE NOT supporters.
I am 13 months into my journey, and it has been anything but smooth. I had just gotten a job as a big time corporate chef and working at a college, finding acceptance would be easy. Well to a point. I worked for a global fortune 100 company that had a pretty good HRC score, but alas we are located in Wyoming. Yep. A beautiful state, but still not to accepting. Now understand that I am not a trans female who wants to stand out, I want to blend in. I don't want to draw attention to myself. I don't wear dresses or skirts, I am a jeans and slacks kinda girl. Some have asked why not wear stuff other that boring jeans and slacks. The answer is simple. Dresses don't fit my personality. But to me it is the outward appearance that caused me to derail. I will explain.
See to me, getting on the hormones and wearing make up and such was so important, and yet that was my biggest problem. The outward look. Not an issue of passing or not passing ( I hate those terms), it was i worried so much about the outward, I didn't deal with the inward struggles. I was so worried about looking the part, i made a mess of the transition. No let me correct that...a huge mess of things. I regret how a lot of things went down, but while i can't change what was, i can sure make sure to fix the mistakes of the past.
Well thats where i will leave it for now. I will write more tomorrow evening. Thanks lovlies!!!
Greetings, all ... <img src="http://i876.photobucket.com/albums/ab328/007www/TGD/TGD-Hi_zpszhfnnepk.gif~original" border="0" alt=" photo TGD-Hi_zpszhfnnepk.gif"/></a>
I've been <i>into</i> the "blog scene" around the WWW for (only) the past couple of years ...
Most recently via my <a href="http://transgenderdate.com/viewuser.php?id=203163"><b><u><font color = "00FF00">(Link to) TGD "Adonii" profile</font></b></u></a>
Just "discovered" TGG this evening ... and am ready to check out this site ... <img src="http://i876.photobucket.com/albums/ab328/007www/TGD/TGD-Smile_zpsdf30bjqq.gif~original" border="0" alt=" photo TGD-Smile_zpsdf30bjqq.gif"/></a>
<img src="http://i876.photobucket.com/albums/ab328/007www/TGD/CatMusic01_zpsanna0ygq.jpg~original" border="0" alt=" photo CatMusic01_zpsanna0ygq.jpg"/></a>
<iframe src="http://www.4shared.com/web/embed/file/LQhXvgJJce" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" width="470" height="320"></iframe>
<img src="http://i876.photobucket.com/albums/ab328/007www/TGD/symANIg02_zps7vgltuwt.gif~original" border="0" alt=" photo symANIg02_zps7vgltuwt.gif"/></a><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i876.photobucket.com/albums/ab328/007www/TGD/PlusANIg02_zps976ywad0.gif~original" border="0" alt=" photo PlusANIg02_zps976ywad0.gif"/></a>
<img src="http://i876.photobucket.com/albums/ab328/007www/TGD/AriesANIg01_zps8arbyovz.gif~original" border="0" alt=" photo AriesANIg01_zps8arbyovz.gif"/></a>
<img src="http://i876.photobucket.com/albums/ab328/007www/TGD/HairANIgif01_zpse25dad09.gif~original" border="0" alt=" photo HairANIgif01_zpse25dad09.gif"/></a>
It’s an odd feeling, hoping that there is something wrong with you. Really hoping that you’re sick, and that you can use that to explain what’s happening. I’m loathe to book the blood tests though, not only because they’re a nuisance that involves me taking time off of work but because I fully expect them to reveal nothing.
The phlebotomist will take the samples, I like her; she’s a friend of a friend and always asks after him and what he’s been up to. Then the samples will disappear for a couple of weeks. Finally the surgery will send me a letter.
It’ll look something like this:
“We’ve had the results of your blood test. We can confirm that your cholesterol levels are very high, putting you at risk of serious health conditions, including stroke and heart attack. You’ll be pleased to know, however, that we found no other abnormal readings. Please make an appointment as soon as possible so we can discuss the results and your options.”
My symptoms are weight gain, which I don’t mind as I like being heavier, depression, high cholesterol and very high fatigue. It’s the fatigue that’s ruining my life, it feels like every other day I have to ask to work from home because I can barely keep my eyes open.
The cholesterol is also worrying, mostly because I know I’m fat but I’m happy as I am. I’m already a vegetarian, I don’t eat dairy (apart from chocolate and cheese) so that actually cuts out most sources of dietary cholesterol.
In essence, I don’t want a formal confirmation of something that I can already hear in my head (naturally, in my father’s patronising, sanctimonious, calculating voice):
“You’re depressed and have cholesterol problems because you don’t go to the gym and don’t eat like a nutritionist. If you got off your fat backside you would probably feel less tired, too.”
My symptoms have all the hallmarks of an underachieve thyroid, which my maternal grandmother also has. The fact it’s such a perfect fit seems to make it all the more likely that it won’t be the culprit.
I’d love an easy answer, for once. Something that explains why it’s damned hard to even get out of bed. Why my eyes are stingy and dry. Why just housework tires me out. Why I have such acute bouts of depression. Why my cholesterol is high enough to actually make the doctor raise their eyebrows (which is not a fun feeling).
So, I’m on the sofa. I’m remoted in to work. The telephone is nearby. My coffee is slowly going cold. It’s nearly noon. I can’t bring myself to book the blood test. The coffee feels like it’s in another room. I’m too bleary-eyed to start work; I almost expect to be fired for working from home too much. The telephone feels like it’s in another country.
Just like Gwen. I wish she were here. I wish Cloud was here too, my best friend in all the world. My girlfriend is in the Netherlands, and has gone radio-silent again. Cloud is in France visiting his family. It’s okay: Cloud will be back tomorrow, and I’ve learnt that Gwen being quiet doesn’t ‘mean’ anything (much as my neuroses try to twist it into one). She’ll be back soon enough.
Work isn’t going anywhere. Not really. They need me, and my working from home is only just an inconvenience. In my defence, I also remoted in over the weekend and did a load of extra work for them just because I felt like it.
I’ll start small. Coffee first. Everything else in time.
well today has been another day.... I mean what are we here for? to think the way we live is a choice---really the stupidest thing I have ever heard. I pluck my facial hair because I don't want stubble....let a man do that---lmbo----he would cry like--ironically a girl---- I live for me and refuse to live for whatever society thinks I should. I say once and forall deal with me world because I am real and I am here.
Today I went down because my mom wanted to talk to me about my brother doing homeschool with me. After our conversation I went to make some popcorn because popcorn is awesome. A few minutes later she then commented that her soap opera has a transgender in it. At this point I am nervous on how she would think of that. She then commented "That's disgusting. I guess they have to make it more modern. What has the world come to?" My heart instantly dropped.
I quickly finished what I was doing in the kitchen and ran upstairs to my room. I am full of emotions right now. Angry, sad, confused. Right when I was starting to crawl out of the pit of depression, I sunk back in. My mom basically rejected me, and the worst part is that she doesn't know it.
All my life, I have felt wrong. And I do mean all my life.
Since before I could even put a full definition to what gender even was. I have always felt off in my own body, as though the world I expected and desired did not sync at all with what was happening around me, happening to me.
I have hidden from my true self all my life. I did what was expected of me, what was expected of all boys...to be a man. To do all the things boys are supposed to do. Act the way boys are supposed to act.
I have the brain of a female. In all likelihood it is biological, caused during foetal formation by little more than a slightly “off” series of hormonal developments. My mind is a girl’s, but it’s in the body of a boy, and it has been this way for the entirety of my existence, regardless of how I’ve been raised or how my worldly experiences have influenced me.
Imagine for a second here what that would be like. Imagine you, a girl or boy, in the opposite body, and unable to do anything about it. You see the world as a guy or girl, but have to live as a girl or guy, pushed along by societal current, tradition, and bare survival instinct into positions and identities that are increasingly uncomfortable to you, unpalatable to you. Everything about your existence is laced with lies, and it feels like there’s nothing that you can do about it.
This is how it is for me. This is how it’s always been for me. If you’ve always seen me as a Herculean pillar of masculinity, then I guess it just means I’m a good faker. I’m sorry if this makes you feel betrayed, or wronged. That’s never what I wanted to do.
For years I felt that there was nothing I could do about what I felt, and so for years I didn’t intend to do anything about it. Unsurprisingly, this did not work. Transsexuality, I have found, is not a habit you can break, a mindset you can force your way out of, or something you can treat with psychotherapy or drugs. It is a genetic construction that will never, ever change, but as it turns out, there is something that can be done about it. I’ve always known it was a possibility, but until now I’ve been too terrified to make it a reality. It took time, it took lots of time, for me to build up the courage to admit to myself that it would be a mistake to continue living as a male. To understand that any apprehensions that I had about doing anything to solve my problems were very much outweighed by the problems themselves, and the implications that they would have on my well- being for the rest of my life.
May 10, 2014 my life came to a cross-road. I was at the point of Transition or commit suicide. So I’m doing something about it, and I’m transitioning from male to female. It’s the only cure for my condition, and I am more than happy to take it on. Above all of the rest, this is the part I want you to understand the most. This is the part where I’m going to be emphatic, where I’m going to be angry, and where I’m probably going to cry a little.
This is the part where I want to make clear that this was NOT a choice.
I am not deciding to become a girl. This is me allowing myself to be who I am, and it is the only route that I could take, because I am done lying about who I am. In transitioning from male to female, I have become a second-class citizen in the eyes of many people. I have opened myself up to discrimination and hate. I have jeopardize my likelihood of finding a life partner who accepts me. I have jeopardize my job security. I have opened myself up to abandonment and rejection by family and friends. I am diving headfirst into what is really a whole world of social trouble, and it is not something that I would choose to do.
This is the next step of my life, of my existence and of my development as a human being, and this was always going to happen, because it was never my choice.
Coming to grips with this has been an absurdly hard process, and it has constantly sent me into depression and loneliness. Nearly every personal problem that I’ve had over the course of my life, I can trace back almost certainly to repressed questions of gender identity. Making myself realize it and embrace it took years, and even after that the fear and uncertainty of what to do about it made me miserable.
I never told anyone. I lied about what made me sad, or I just didn’t say. Coming out and actually telling someone “I’m transgendered” was a prospect far, far too scary to even consider. Instead I sank inside myself, jealous of people more brave than me and full of self-pity. It’s all because I was too scared to just tell anyone that there was something wrong with me. It took being completely low, down, and beaten for me to finally tell my best friend. It was a year after that before I told anyone else. After that person, a couple of weeks to tell another. Despite how scary it was all those times, and despite how scary it still is, it gets easier.
I lost friends and family with my decision to transition. My middle daughter, age 25, has disowned me and tells people I am an embarassment. A few friends have stopped talking to me, which just tells me they never were my friends in the first place.
August 21,2014 I started HRT and began the process of transition. I doubt my transition will ever end, as humans tend to evolve over time. We develope new interests and loose interest in other things. For me its just about living and being happy as the REAL me.
Surgeries? After weighing all the pros and cons, I've concluded that at my age and the inevitable witing list for C.A.M.H to approve government medical coverage, not to have SRS. I will be having an Orchi done this spring. Two reasons for Orchi...to get off the spiro and to get rid of the two things that represent to me the symbol of masculinity.
Ok that's all for now.
Merry Meet and Merry Part, and Merry Meet Again
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Not sure whether this is the right thing for me to do, to start a Blog. Firstly, I feel that my grasp of the english language is not really very good, and secondly, I tend to lose enthusiasm pretty quickly.
I probably could also bore the pants of anyone who decides to read it!
Well, If any of you have read my profile, I do reside in the UK. Those of you whom may not of noticed will see that I am of asian origin. In fact my parents are originally from Hong Kong. This is where I am for the next 16 days aswell.
I've taken the oportunity to experiment with makeup which is easily available here, but not so readily available in the UK. In my thinking, I've decided to buy Japanese makeup here, as it should suit my asian skin better?? Well thats my excuse for just buying makeup here I guess.
I'm really not enjoying myself as much as I should be. I came here with a sore throat, and I'm struggling with it. I've also found out the best way of dispersing people who maybe overcrowding you on the buses or underground. Just have a coughing fit, and watch everyone cover their mouths and walk away from you. They seem to think I have bird flu!
Anyway.. enough of my ramblings! A shopping trip awaits me tomorrow morning!