Just a little inspiration to help you along with those post Monday blues!
Enjoy a bit of inspiration for your Friday:
When I woke up this morning and headed to the bath room, of course I had to check myself out in the mirror to see if I was still alive.
Even after all these years, the mirror experience can never be taken for granted. On certain mornings I see too much of my male self peaking through. Then on other days, I am pleased with seeing all my hair along with my breasts, soft skim and rounder face. All of which scream feminine.
To make a long story short, I am living on a gender fault line. Another word for the gender dysphoria which has been part of me for as long as I can remember.
I feel the tremors. Not as bad as when I was trying to live as both genders but still noticeable. I used to have the tremors so bad I could feel an explosion coming on if I didn’t cross dress into my authentic self to relieve the pressure.
I would not wish my life on the gender fault line on anyone but then again the chance to experience both human binary genders has at times been electrifying yet terrifying.
Of course I am biased but I have always thought a human changing gender was one of the most difficult things to attempt.
As far as I am concerned, as I began to become more serious about making the jump to a transgender feminine life, I began to practice feminine mannerisms when I thought others weren’t watching. I would go to big box stores during their down times just to practice my walk.
Make up wasn’t such a problem for me as I had been applying it for literally decades before I seriously decided to transition. As I remember though, I had to remind myself to not overdo it. As I started to go out and live with women and be accepted, I had to learn to blend.
Of course, all bets were off when I started hormone replacement therapy. Even though I started on a bare minimum dose, the changes began to be very unmistakable. The obvious happened, I grew breasts and let my hair grow out. The surprise came when my skin softened and my face began subtle changes. All in all, I had planned a year before I had to put my male self in the closet. I ended up revising it to six months.
As I look back to the whole experience, I was fortunate in that I found a small group of cis women to socialize with. I always say they taught me more about the feminine lifestyle than I could have ever learned on my own. But learn I did.
Putting my old guy self in the closet was one of the most satisfying things I have ever done. Overall though, changing gender gears was as terrifying as it was exciting. It was an experience I was born to do.
By now, I am sure you have heard the exciting news the cover model of this years “Sports Illustrated” swimsuit issue is transgender woman Leyna Bloom.
When I first heard the news, I think it took awhile for the enormity of the cover to set in.
Obviously, it is one thing to make it into the issue as a transgender woman at all but to make it on to the cover is wonderful.
All of my thoughts turned to “back in the day” when I worked as a restaurant manager and had a “Sports Illustrated” subscription. all my cooks knew I was going to be receiving the swimsuit issue and were clamoring to see it ASAP.
I can only imagine their reaction when they found out the cover model was transgender.
Perhaps times have changed enough that it’s time for a Leyna Bloom to be accepted.
“Back in the day” when I was strongly considering making the big jump and starting to live as my authentic feminine transgender self, I considered the whole process as sliding down a slippery slope. One day, I would just go too far, make the leap and put my male self into the closet. The more I explored the world as a transgender woman, the more I wanted to.
Looking back at the whole process now, I have a tendency to .look at it as an interaction between my personal angels and demons. I suppose it all goes back to when I was growing up and I considered my transgender leanings as being demons.
Of course, finally all of the “demon” thoughts began to change. Rightfully so, my mean old male self became the demon to kept me out of the world for all those years. As my feminine self took over, she certainly wasn’t an angel. She partied hard and for the most part had a good time. Perhaps she was making up for lost time.
Each of us are individuals trying to make our own journeys as pleasant as possible.
The quicker you are able to turn your male demons into female angels the better your life will be. Each of us has to seek out our own path to do it.
In nearly a decade, I think this is the first ultra religious comment I have ever received. It came from “blessed be9, Catalyst for Christ” :
“I refuse to hate: thats Satan’s tactic; however, Im gonna tell you the Truth: when we breathe our last, what do you wish to called? Aint no trans in Heaven; you cannot stay on earth. Seek help. I did. GBY (the most non-threatening piece I have ever wRITTn. Again, I dont hate; I love everyone. I would sooner die for you than see you in any other realm but where Im after your lifelong demise). be@peace.”
If the truth be known “blessed” you are the hater. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t wish the ill will on anyone with gender dysphoria who also happen to be transgender.
As far as your question goes in what I wish to be called on my death bed is my authentic true feminine name which I have struggled so long to obtain.
Shame on you for worshiping a false God that hates! You are right “Ain’t no trans in Heaven.” We have paid our dues to be decent human beings. We will be just us in Heaven.
I hope somehow you can turn your life around and make it to heaven yourself.
Recently I was surprised to see a post on Facebook from one of my old transgender friends from the earliest days of us exploring the feminine world for the first time. Over the years we have moved far away from each other and she has undergone several surgeries to enhance her appearance as a transgender woman. Her name is Racquel (pictured below).
Interestingly her post concerned several early visits to “straight” venues when we went through unique musical harassments:
” I’m eating a burger at Buffalo Wild Wings. And they just played Dude Looks Like a Lady by Aerosmith. And that’s fine. Because if I complained about it the staff would apologize profusely.Six years ago the world was very different. I would hang out with Cyrsti and people would play Dude Looks Like a Lady on the jukebox just to intimidate us, and there was certainly nobody who cared if we complained.”
All of Racquel’s memories are unfortunately so true and even she didn’t get to witness the night when a group of drunk rednecks kept on playing the mentioned hated song. It got so bad, instead of doing anything about it, the manager just told me to leave. Even though weeks later I was approached in a neighboring venue by a bartender in the banned place and asked to return. It seemed the person who kicked me out got fired for drug abuse. Revenge was mine but the hurt remains, even to this day.
I do agree with Racquel though the world has changed from the “mean” old days but we still have such a long way to go.
Do you know what a “Terf” is, or what it means?
To put it simply, a Terf is a cis woman who dislikes transgender women First of all, here’s how the name came to be. It is the abbreviation for Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminism. Essentially the idea it is impossible for a person assigned a specific gender at birth to transition and occupy the space of another gender. They take it as far as seeing it as an invasion all over again from the patriarchy and essentially raping women again.
In their neat conceptual world, men are the predators and women are the prey. To introduce any form of a transgender woman is an attack on feminism everywhere in addition to trans males being a threat to butch lesbians.
I would have to ask Paula for sure but I think Terf’s are more publicized in Great Britain where Paula is from. However, a few years ago I was confronted by gender rejection at a lesbian Valentine’s Dance Liz and I went to here in Cincinnati. You could definitely refer to the person who literally sought me out to harass me as a Terf.
I was minding my own business waiting for Liz to rejoin me with a few appetizers when this lesbian approached and started to ask me about what my “real” name was. Unfortunately, I hadn’t had my name legally changed yet to produce my driver’s license. By the time Liz returned, the bitch had disappeared again into the crowd.
Being the glutton for punishment I was back in those days, I even tried to join Liz’s lesbian meet up group which put on the dance. Naturally I was rejected for being transgender and not a “real” woman. Shortly after that, Liz left the group,
Since essentially, my feminine upbringing was helped along by cis women lesbians, I know all lesbians aren’t Terf’s. Plus, naively I have always felt the more the better when it comes to any form of human movements. In other words, I don’t understand why cis women Terf’s wouldn’t want transgender women involved in their search for equality in gender rights. After all, we have seen the gender world from both sides and made our choice to leave our male privileges behind.
In the meantime, I will forever remember the time I was gender slurred and attacked by a Terf.
It does my soul good when I get addressed as “she” or “ladies” when I am with my partner Liz.
In fact, one of the most difficult challenges I have faced during the pandemic has been the lack of positive feedback from the public. Since last March, we have only been out to eat three times. We have been out a few other times but only for necessities, mainly as we were masked at places like the pharmacy. We even have our groceries brought to us. As I said, it’s been tough to experience anyone using pronouns with me at all.
I finally caved it to pressure and changed my name on “Zoom” to include my preferred pronouns. By “pressure” I mean, I began to see more and more transgender individuals including their pronouns. In one way I don’t mind it but in another way, I feel it is just another way to out myself.
Of course as I always mention, I am fortunate to have had a strong trans affirming circle of friends around me for years. Going back to people like Kim, Nikki and Zena who helped me to learn up close and personal what a femininizing experience meant. It seemed they added the stage and all I had to add was the courage.
Back in those days of reckoning, the last thing I wanted to do was to give my name and add in my preferred pronouns. These days though, it seems the younger generation is cool with sharing their pronouns as a source of pride.’
Which is good with me.