The Naked Truth

One thing I have always wondered is, how far do you go with a potential partner before you disclose the truth about being transgender. These days there are so many variables to consider. For one, surgeries have come so far, a trans woman very well could be as “realistic” as a cis woman when it comes to genitals.  

I can’t imagine being a young transgender person with a full life to lead ahead of you. The younger you are though, I would imagine it would be easier to “back fill” a portion of your life when you were not living as your authentic self. For someone my age, it’s harder to try to hide a half century cross dressing as a guy.  

It’s easy for me to say but I would have to out myself and wait for the person to come along who didn’t care and loved me for me. 

As you may recall, I wrote a post concerning me outing myself to a bone density scan technician when he asked if I had been through menopause yet. I simply told him I was transgender and we moved on. 

When all of this happened, I had my clothes on. The mammogram was the only visit where I had to strip to the waist. I can’t imagine what would happen if I would have to take all my clothes off, as Connie did:

Photo Credit Connie Malone

“Years ago, when I first went to see a doctor as “myself,” the nurse had set up the exam room for a gynecological exam – complete with a speculum. Both the doctor and I got a good laugh when she removed the towel that covered the tray that had all of those instruments! 

I guess I was passing to the nurse, but I had already outed myself to the doctor, as I was sitting naked on the exam table at the time. :-)”

I guess you did out yourself! Thanks for the “naked truth.”


There are many reactions I have encountered over the years here in Cyrsti’s Condo. The most memorable being “Just another old guy on hormones.” When I wrote on starting hormone replacement therapy. 

Recently, “The Cat Lady” commented on another reaction…giggles:

“I’m sorry but you made me giggle when you talked about learning the ways of the bra. I guess since I’ve worn bras, off and on, since I was in my teens, I don’t even think about it anymore. For me, it’s like putting on a blouse, a tight fitting tee shirt or stretch jeans. You feel it at first but not until later in the day do you feel it again. Yes, I still feel the restriction at times but in reality it all depends on the bra.

Now on to you mentioning about cup sizes. I learned a long time ago that when transitioning our breasts will usually only develop to one cup size smaller than our mother’s size. I am a C cup and my mother was a DD cup. But here’s a little insight into womanhood, a lot of women will tell you that they are not satisfied with their breast size. They are either not big enough to be ultra sexy or too small for the same reason. That’s why plastic surgeons make so much money.

Here’s an article you may want to check out and talk to your endo about:

Just remember lady, being a woman is a complex situation that we all find somewhat confusing at times. Especially to those of us that didn’t have the luxury of learning in our younger years.”

Thanks Michelle and a giggle or two is fine, I am sure I have had much worse! 

Unfortunately, I somewhat restricted by my Veteran’s Administration endo doc and what she can prescribe by the VA standards. I can say though she is learning quickly and is suddenly asking all the right questions about feminine results to my body. The link above refers to progesterone which will be an interesting conversation. As I have written before, my endo is concerned about my age when prescribing me meds. 

As far as all women and their breasts are concerned, it seems to me the “grass (or the breast) is always greener on the other side. I know my partner Liz (DD breasts) comments on hers are too big and a hassle.  I feel with my frame, D’s would be ideal but I can certainly live and be satisfied with what I have achieved. A “C” cup. 

When the Covid crisis lifts and we can begin to go out again, I plan on doing some serious bra shopping.

Obviously the model below is not me!

Connecting more Dots

 I have written here several times here in Cyrsti’s Condo about my possibility of being transgender influenced in my mother’s womb by an drug designed to aid at risk Moms deliver healthy babies. It turns out Michelle has researched the idea farther and had this comment: 

 ” Just as with Sara Michelle, I too may be a DES baby. I could never find out if my mother was given it but with the research I did into the DES era, it was a strong possibility. Back in the 50’s, doctors gave pregnant mothers DES to insure a full term pregnancy happened.I remember feeling and acting like a little girl back in the early years. I didn’t help that the hand me down clothes came from my big sister till I couldn’t fit in them any more. I remember during puberty, when I started developing breasts which I was told by our family doctor that it was just a condition that I would grow out of. Guess what didn’t happen.

I’ve included a CDC link to their finding on DES (Diethylstilbestrol). I also included a link to the DES Action news site which includes information about DES Sons. As you can see the Action site seems to have more info for women but does provide link to other informative sites.”

Thanks Michelle for researching this for us all.  And now another old picture of me from a summer past when I was out walking my old dog in a park.

Not in Kansas Anymore

 With all apologies to all of you who actually may live in Kansas, this post concerns a few of my thoughts during my annual mammogram yesterday. It’s not as if I didn’t know what to expect since this was my fifth go around with a mammogram. Depending on the person giving the test, the whole process is normally a fairly quick process with minimal discomfort. 

Yesterday, as I was sitting and waiting barely covered from the waste up with a flimsy hospital gown, I had a chance to think how far I have been afforded the chance to come. Thanks to my hormone replacement therapy, my breasts have become nearly the size of the silicone breast forms I used to keep hidden in a drawer at home. For some reason, I thought of Dorothy’s immortal comment from the “Wizard of Oz” movie…I was not in Kansas anymore. 

Fortunately, I didn’t have too much time to think about classic movies as it was time to do my contortions with an big white machine which looked like something out of Star Wars. It whirred and clicked approximately four times to four different poses and I was done and on my way.

Equally as amazing, was the fact early this morning, I received an email from my hospital account telling me everything was fine. I am especially sensitive to the news since my grandmother passed away from breast cancer.

On the positive side too, the two booster shots I was scheduled for at the VA Monday finally have stopped bothering me. Now, I am done for awhile with all my invasive appointments.  Thank goodness!

It’s a Waiting Game

Thanks to Mandy and Connie and others who sent along their best wishes concerning the possibility of my partner Liz’s son contracting the Covid 19 virus. The testing site he went to gave him an eight day window to receive the results. Which means, we are four days into the waiting period. 

As far as everything goes, nothing much has happened by choice. In fact, I decided not to sign into the cross dresser – transgender support group meeting Monday night this week. Plus I am not planning to attend a virtual “social” also this week. I can totally understand why some of the attendee’s need the time to cross dress as their other selves but since I don’t, I don’t feel the need to attend. 

What I do have to do is schedule another trip north to the VA in Dayton, Ohio to get my blood lab work done. I am planning to do it as soon as the kid gets his test results back, provided they are negative. I am not as concerned with Hematology getting my iron levels as I am with my Endocrinologist seeing my new hormone levels. Along the way, I have learned the hard way not to play around with my blood doctors.

Hopefully, I will get the all clear soon, so I can get all my blood work done.

The Vampires Beckon

Today is my three month trip to the Dayton, Ohio Veteran’s Administration to have my blood checked for excess iron. Do to this I have to have a series of blood lab work done before I even go to see my hematology doctor. If my iron levels are too high, then I have to have a phlebotomy. Which means they will take out a pint of my blood. After all these years doing this, it’s all very routine. Even a few of the lab workers know me as a regular. Not what I had envisioned years ago as an ideal. 

Ironically, this trip out and about (with a mask of course) is the first time I have been anywhere for a couple of months, except a trip or two to the pharmacy. We are even getting our groceries delivered in. So, it’s kind of a big deal and I am dressing accordingly. 

I have decided to wear my light tan culotte pants with a sleeveless patterned tank top to allow the vampires total unheeded access to my arm veins they seem to love so much. Plus, even though I will be wearing a mask, I am going to breakdown and wear makeup. 

Hopefully today, my iron will be under the limit and I can escape the worst of the vampires again. Supposedly though, exposure to the sun is one of the causes of my problem. So maybe I am one of the vampires too?