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This can certainly be a difficult period, when you're transitioning but haven't physically transitioned so much. I recently thought about the fact that getting into a relationship right now could be very confusing and it sounds like what you're going through may be the embodiment of those thoughts, so i wish you the best as you work things through :-) As for your bf's homophobia, I think blaming parents only goes so far, at some point a person becomes responsible for their own thoughts and feelings (unless they were completely brain-washed as children). Having said that, he is facing the issue under circumstances that most people don't, so I can definitely see the case for giving him time.

From yesterday until Thursday I am in Seattle Washington at Microsoft offices part of recognizing MVP (Microsoft Valued Professionals). This morning I "liked" one of the tweets and the woman must have looked at my Twitter profile and asked if she could interview me where the interview would be posted on one of Microsoft web sites. Of course I accepted and once the interview has been uploaded I will provide a link here but be forewarned it's geek topic On the ways back to my hotel I was added to a special group on Twitter which has nothing to do with my transition and then got a message from the chef making remarks that he liked me. Tonight they are having us (2,000) to one hotel for a party, should be interesting so I am off to change into a nice business like skirt, medium conservative heels and cardigan.

Many years ago prior to my real life test I would go out dressed with no fear except when leaving and returning home. If I was wearing any type of heels that made noise as most do I would avoid landing on the heel and tippy toe inside my house. Have not done that for many years. So today I wear a nice pair of business style pumps and while walking along a hallway found myself tippy toe for a few steps. I thought to myself, WTF then had one of those moments "yes this was from back in the day when I would tippy toe back into my house. Luckily nobody saw me do that because that would be awkward. So later I walk into the section I work in and one of the ladies there said "Karen", I turn to see what she wants. She says you are wearing FM heels! I said what? she repeated herself and she smiles. Okay, tell me what FM means. She said they are F*** ME signals in regards to my heels to men. I countered and said, there is nothing sexy about these heels. She said it doesn't matter they are still FM heels. We both had a laugh then I said, what if I change into my flats. Without skipping a beat she said, then after a smoke too (you know, many have a cigarette after sex) and we both laughed again. So after lunch I walked into her cube with flats on as I always have a pair in my car trunk (or boot) and did not say a word. She finally looks down and cracks up. Me thinking "I nailed it".

Karen, You have them reserved for the Bedroom only - You really ARE enciurageable, Karen. Sweet Lady, at least You know how to have fun. Karen, You keep on having fun. Life is for enjoying Love. I hope Your Car trip goes well on Saturday, and it is so nice that You can enjoy doing that as well. Karen, Take Care, With Very Best Wishes, Stephanie. xx

So, after three weeks of healing, I went back for another session of what I thought would be torture. It turned out to be torture/torment/agony x10. Oh my lard I hurt soooooo soo bad, I went into shock twice and almost passed out a few times. It was probably the worst pain I'd ever felt, surpassing my several bones I've broken and even when I sliced open my palm on a hubcap. The guy (Tim) gave me two options. 1)suck it up, grin and bare it and let him finish it 100% and he'll try to be quick and save me some pain. 2) puss out and do half, come back in another 3 weeks, and pay another 300$ for the session. I dont have another 300$ so I took a pain pill and told him to just do it. By the end of it, I was shaking from head to toe, almost throwing up, dizzy and in such agony that I felt my throat closing up from wanting to cry. Me being a manly man (lol) I refused myself the tears and just dealt with it. Even him touching the surface to wipe it clean of loose ink made me flinch away and cringe, and at some points I would have my opposite shoulder pressed against the wall as if trying to escape while he was working, because I just could not stay leaned towards him anymore. My body was begging for him to stop, and that little voice in my head went 'no, please stop! stop it, I cant take any more!' every time he leaned down to start tattooing. Anyway, the pictures: (better ones soon. These ones suck because it's slimy with ointment, blood, oozing ink and swollen to hell) In the end----totally worth the pain. As soon as he was done, I felt so much better and proud of the work that I forgot the pain. Sort of like childbirth I suppose. After the pain is gone and you hold your child, you forget that you're torn up and bleeding. (so glad that children are not for me lol) Tattoo Aside, I had other situations. Firstly, I saw my family before going to the tattoo shop. My mother has decided to marry a guy I never met (cant remember if I told you guys that. She dated him in highschool until my grandmother slept with him and broke them up, and they just got back together then 3 weeks later got married.) so I figured it'd be good to make an appearance since I didnt go to the wedding. (faked that I had to work. I really wanted no part of it.) Any my impressions of my new 'stepfather'? He's a douche. I cant stand him, he's so full of himself and makes my younger siblings work and clean house and cook meals while they dont do shit. I only wanted a handshake, he made me hug him. >:( Dont like. Aside from all that and being misgendered and deadnamed by my 19 yr old brother the whole time (because he's a dick and I sort of expected it from him), my mother (who I thought had turned a new leaf) continued to do the same thing. She not once said my chosen name. And when someone stopped by and she was talking to them from their truck, she pointed at me and said "yeah that's my daughter'. F*** my life....Seriously left in a horrid mood. So much for my family changing for the better...... Here's the f***ed up part. At the tattoo shop, I couldnt wear my binder and t-shirt because of where he was doing the tattoo. So I'm sitting there in my bra and undershirt, boobs very noticable and unavoidable. Yet NOT ONCE did Tim misgender me. Well, okay, one time. But it doesnt count because he IMMEDIATLY corrected himself and apologized. He's so amazing and always has been with me, and has another FTM friend so he's not trans-retarded and treats me with the utmost respect. Here's the other part. One of his friends came in, who doesnt know me. He walked in as we were talking about my trans issues. One of the topics in the subject came up about showering. Tim mentioned that I must get annoyed in the shower due to my feminine parts, but I admited that I not only get annoyed, I'm disgusted, furious, sick to my stomach---I dont even look down. I avoid all visuals of my chest as possible. His friend caught on to how much my transgender issues hurt me, and Tim went quiet because he felt really bad. And then a miracle happened. His buddy started to talk between the two of us, totally casual and friendly and whatnot (though I caught him staring at my boobs XD I cant complain, they ARE kinda huge) and he only misgendered me one time, and like Tim did, he quickly corrected himself immediatly once he realized he did it. NO PROBLEMS. NO QUESTIONS ASKED, NO JUDGEMENT, NO CONFUSION. Just point blank "This is warren, HE is getting a tat done" then "oh, cool, nice to meet you dude. HIS tat looks awesome". WHY THE HELL CAN STRANGERS GET IT, BUT MY FAMILY CANT?! I understand that theyve known me longer and its hard to get out of habits, but THEYRE NOT EVEN TRYING. This total stranger who I met for a mass of 5 minutes had MORE RESPECT for me than my family, and he connected to the pain I had with the transgender issues more than my own family. Like they literally dont give a shit how bad it makes me feel, or the depression I deal with from it. I seriously dont know what to do.... ON ANOTHER, HAPPIER NOTE: My doctor is writing me a 'letter of nessesity' to give to my surgeon who will send it to insurance, and then I'll find out if they'll approve my top surgery. They agreed that both surgeon and doctor would LEAVE OUT the transgender part, and place it down as simply a 'medically beneficial breast reduction', noting my daily pain, limits to daily life, rashes, bruising, sores, headaches, back pain, neck pain, shoulder pain, back popping, rib pain, etc. So maybe the insurance will look at it and go 'wow, ouch, this chick needs this done' instead of 'pffft, she thinks shes a dude. Rule this as cosmetic and deny." So.....here's hoping. Pray for me, wish me luck, light a candle, whatever it is you guys do. In a long healing process and sober from self harm for about 2 months, Warren

The Reality of Being a Transsexual By Cindy D. Keranen I am often asked what I would do differently if I had the choice to do it all over again. This is a powerful question and its one I have pondered many times. Looking back I made so many mistakes and it has cost me so much in terms of heartache. I wish I would’ve done so much differently. When I decided to become a, “fulltime woman” I could not have known just how difficult it would be. I was working a good job; it paid well and the hours were great. I was commonly complimented on my work ethic and praised constantly over my ability to get things done. Before I, “came out” no one knew what I was and I made the mistake of talking to my supervisor about becoming fulltime. I informed him I was getting my name legally changed and I would look very different when I reported for work. He assured me I would have no issue; I would learn this simply wouldn’t be true in the end. When I first came out I wasn’t very passable. My makeup was horrible, my breasts were silicone forms, and I was very odd looking for a West Texas girl. I dressed as any other, and my mannerisms were feminine enough, but my features were not well hidden. The awkwardness of my appearance was only further enhanced with the fact I was wearing high color shirts. I wasn’t able to show any cleavage because my breasts were forms. My voice was feminine, my mannerisms were feminine, but it was not a secret what I was. When I came out I was harassed, debased, humiliated, and made fun of by my coworkers who made a habit of calling me by my birth name and also sir. To make matters worse, management was only not supportive as they said they would be, but they apart of it. Ultimately, when I was threatened by a coworker and I physically confronted him my employment was terminated. This would be an issue over and over again. I applied to jobs time and time again. Because it took me some time to get my makeup down and also because I was wearing long sleeve shirts with high collars in the summer time, I was unable to find a job. When I was hired and subsequently discovered, I was terminated because of the other employee’e uneasiness with my situation. There I was, unable to revert to being a man and unable to find gainful employment as a woman. I have been fulltime for almost two years now and still I have been unable to even start my HRT regiment. I am only passable now because I have taken the stand of, “I don’t care anymore what you think” and my confidence and makeup skills compensate for any doubts. I am no closer to now to the end of my transformation then I was two years ago. I shower with my eyes closed, I shave in the shower, and I apply my foundation in total darkness. I don’t open my eyes until it’s at least applied. I hate my body; it isn’t mine, and trying to fix the issue is proving all too difficult. So, my advice to anyone considering becoming a fulltime transsexual woman is this; take your time, get your ducks in a row, and be prepared to find new employment. Save your money, get going good on HRT, and most of all get good with the application of your, “war paint”. Be prepared; don’t make the mistakes I did. If I would’ve stayed, “in the closet” only another six months, I would have had my breast augmentation and the money for my SRS. (I was 3 weeks away from my breast surgery when I was fired and one paycheck). Be sure you are passable, and be prepared for a long and difficult road. I am almost 33 years old and there is little hope I will ever have my surgeries in time to be young enough to ever enjoy all the benefits of being a woman in our society. Please, be prepared!