gender, transgender

Intensifying Towards A Point.

*Disclaimer – This post contains a section on recreational drug use.

Being trans does not suck as much as life can be awesome.  Being trans is much more preferable to many other states regardless of how painful it can be.

Had another night out last week, I can only introduce myself as Amy now, with a male voice and beard shadow.  It is accepted, at times admired. It is simply too much emotional effort to deny it.  In trying to find the actual requirements for ‘Real Life Experience’, I have to wonder what that is.  If I’m called Amy socially and professionally, called by the appropriate pronoun, and I see myself as such, what is the problem?  Of course, the problem is that it’s not enough, for one’s sanity (and safety) the perception must be created.  It’s not enough to be known as female, it is unfortunately only enough to be so, for me anyway.

I met my ex-girlfriend last week to clear the air, it has become a vacuum.  She told me she screwed the guy I knew was making moves on her the day we broke up and is with him now.  Of course that is painful, but I get a great chuckle when I realise that I have been more of a man in my life than most other men could ever hope to be.  Now just to be gone with the jealous male sexual urge as masculinity continues to drain.

Being a good woman is the same as being a good man. It’s called being a good person.

She said she would have broken up with me for coming out as trans anyway, because she’s not attracted to women.  She would go out with a transman, but only after completing transition, so that says all you need to know about her.  It’s ok to miss the memories but not the person; it feels good to be over it, though sore over lack of companionship.

She’s not the only girl not attracted to other females.  In being a lesbian transwoman, the pool of available Romantic love is cut short by BILLIONS.  Not only is it a case of meeting a nice lesbian girl, but also one that can accept a transwoman, and even further, one that would want to spend time together.  That’s a scary prospect, but what are the alternatives?  Gonna have to hit up some gay bars :/

That being said, I have my own prejudice to overcome.  Let’s talk about this whole ‘lesbian with a penis’ thing.  The question is, would I get together with a pre-whatever transwoman?  I’m not attracted to the male body, but I could of course be attracted to the feminine mind.  How does one get past these body issues?  I have to be careful of my hypocrisy, because if I wouldn’t go out with a T-girl, then who would go out with me?  It’s therefore very important to try and get past the whole bio-aesthetic hormone fluxation.

Weirdly, I would prefer to be straight.  In my fantasies, generally it is straight, with a man, and faceless.  Yet in the waking world there’s never been a man I’ve had a physical attraction to.  I don’t compute how it could be comparable to gaze upon a man when there are lovely soft ladies.  As such, the self-worth issues grow when I can be successful as neither.  That feeling of being undesirable is compounded, and it is very difficult.

The first and most vital step is self-content.

This weekend, I decided to keep the party ball rolling, and took a whole bunch of magic mushrooms, an experiment to see what my mind would say when psychedelically uninhibited.  The trip was mild, plenty of colourful kaleidoscopic mosaics, thoughts travelling at their own accord, filled with universal affection.  I forced myself to write at one point, because I knew the drugs wouldn’t change or diminish my transsexuality.  I wrote simply:

‘I am a girl, I don’t need to write it a hundred times to convince myself it’s true.

I don’t need to think about it all the time, but I do.

I want it to be real…

Why is it so important?

Because this is who I am.’

Damn it.

This weekend, another ‘experiment’, this time to the cattle markets, where men and women come to pair off in drunken states to foment morning regret.  I’m going to dress up and pretend to be a MAN.  I’ve never been good at picking up girls, because I’ve never tried, it’s not my game, simply not interested in short-term hook-ups, but I’m going to give it a try.  What can I say, I want to rebound.  I’ll fail, but I’ll show myself that I can fail just as easily doing what I don’t want to do as I can doing what I want.

There’s a question that has been bothering me – ‘If you could wake up tomorrow and either be a woman, or be rid of transgender feelings to live as a man, which would you choose?’  I find the question moot.  I want to be rid of transgender feelings regardless of what gender I happened to be, however I’m a transgender female, so I want the feelings to go away and just be female.  If you were to take away these feelings, I would simply be a man and it wouldn’t matter anymore.

I write this so openly and personally as an attempt to empathize, that every journey is different, yet we still share all that makes us human. I will try to make it more generally relevant in the future, but I’m not experienced enough to offer any kind of authority.

My aim is to be a focused, pragmatic voice as an individual who just happens to be transsexual, to be a positive influence in my random style progression. I’m generally unburdened by social anxieties, depression and shame, and filled with empathy, affection and the joy of life. I want to share these good feelings, and assure you that you will be at the very least content with who you are, in time. Most people never sort themselves out, but if you are on the transitional path, you’re taking a step further in life that many would ever dare!

Congratulate yourselves, beautiful people!

Ready? Amy. Fire!



Few things in life remain solid, and why should they?  Change is rebirth, but first it is beautiful decay.  Solidity is just a rigid concept like all the other mental boxes that are created to try and gain at least some autonomy against the overwhelmingly deterministic yet seemingly random effects of being alive.

From the start of this blog, I envisaged Hallowe’en as the perfect time to experiment publically with gender insight, and I did.  What keeps me strong is this: living a transsexual life seems scary as hell and requires an awful lot of bravery altogether, so each little snippet – a waxing; an electrolysis appointment; a decision to go on hormones; going full time…each requires less emotional energy than the presentation of the whole.  From that inspiration I’m not so scared of individual short term challenges.


Being Hallowe’en, few cared how I looked, although I was of course aware and nervous that I wasn’t wearing a costume.  I had a terrible throat infection, so I gave myself away every few seconds anyway, but that wasn’t the point.  In the end, I made my friends take me to a house party, as it was the best option for urinating without grief.  This turned out to be an amphetamine party, which are just hilarious when completely sober.

When folks came to greet us at different points they asked our names.  I told them, in my male voice, that my name is ‘Amy’.  Rarely have I seen eyelids repel from each other so quickly!  Of course, I understand why that would happen, and even so, these people were still accommodating through their confusion.  They asked why and I couldn’t explain, and one even asked if my male friend and I were partners, which I found very interesting.

A couple of times, new people would come in, and when I would speak they said that they had thought I was a ‘bird’.  One drugged up gentleman said I was the prettiest girl he’d seen all night.  Thanks, I guess.  I also freaked out a taxi driver on the way home.  My new least favourite word is ‘mate’, that one is a stinger.

I’ve been emotionally exhausted ever since.  Much effort and unceasing thought has a way of dragging one down. It convinces me that self-acceptance is an absolute necessity for transition; otherwise it could take more energy than an individual has in reserve. Heck, self-acceptance is an absolute necessity no matter what the situation is in life.

I got a letter from Gender Identity Clinic for first assessment later this month. This led few hours of elation followed by the inevitable bump of reality.  I’ve been struggling with my identity since, refusing to allow traits and expressions to determine my gender.  I feel like the reasons I refute maleness would lead to similar reasons for refuting femaleness.  Still yes, my brain is female.

Non-binary transgender female.  It sounds like a load of nonsense, but that’s where I am.  The unconscious mind presents only pictures, we then must commit to the unending human failing of trying to translate these pictures into language.  For a little while, I haven’t felt like anything, I haven’t even been secure in what my name is.

Even though dysphoria is constant in its’ many forms, I’m glad for a reprieve in the way of having to deal with other similarly pressing life problems.

One is smoking.  I’ve had a series of pretty nasty breakdowns.  If I want to make any progress I have to quit, the pain of quitting smoking is a lot less than the pain of dysphoria.  If I can’t stop smoking, then I’ll have to give up my progress, and just allow being a drug addict to ruin me.  Screw that.

Two is heart-break, loneliness.  I finally have the opportunity to process what happened with my recent ex- and first love.  Without going into detail, I just want to be able to appreciate the amazing levels of love I never thought possible, rather than focusing on the poison negativity that spelt the end.  It’s just a process, sit with the decay, set it alight, and rise from the flame.  I want to move past this to explore a new and exciting attraction.

I don’t know what my gender is right now, and that’s ok!  It takes time; there are fluctuations, doubts, natal hormone levels etc.  Sickness, lack of exercise and proper diet inhibits the ability to think clearly and make good decisions, creating yet another cycle to break.

There comes a time in sadness where one must begin to remember and accept happiness again. I have achieved so much in the past month, and it can be easier to forget achievement than remember failings.

Maybe I am lost, but then, maybe I’m in exactly the right place and I just don’t have a name for it.