gender, identity, transgender

Absolving the Void

Peel back the layers like the painful scabs they are.  All those layers of dead skin built up as defences throughout life that bring us farther from ourselves.  Creating a solid foundation whilst aware of what is already built.  The mixer drips and overflows whether it is preferred or not; one can build upon concrete, or one can build upon frittering dreams made from ashes tinier than sand.

I am the only person who can give me what my life wants.  I’m the only person who can find out, the only one who can do it, and the only one who cares enough [to make it happen].  Just words, conjecture, yet we are individuals, same as everyone in every position, rich or poor, totally equal and deserving in every single right.  It is wonderful to find the value and strength of the human spirit, but what about a human spirit?  To whatever degree one transcends gender, it is looking inwards that counts, not outwards.  Society is this, people are that, opinions fly with an invisible sludgy density.

For myself, since coming out, I’ve come closer to myself in some ways, yet grown further in others.  With such jarring self-realisation it can be difficult to hold onto the connectedness which binds our own values.  There must be balance, without a sense of selfness there is no scale upon which to weigh burden.  See not yourself through the eyes of others, for their worth is not determined by how they imagine you see theirs.  Only a heart will let another heart inside’ its realm.

I had the wonderful opportunity recently to spend a few days in my grandparents’ country house whilst they went on holiday, the sort place where a wi-fi signal makes 56k seem tolerable.  Good.  The overwhelmingness in general of technology and seemingly insightful ‘5 Reasons Why…’ articles resonates too loudly with the online trans experience, it’s just too much information, and how much of it is really helpful when reading about self-help overtakes actually helping oneself?

Such was my greeting view –

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A little stream rolls under this picture. So tiny, yet still unstoppable in it’s flow.

In my reflections I had some a couple of important moments of clarity.

The first was to finally let go of my last relationship and first love for real.  I read an article on closure where it just clicked, or more accurately on how sometimes there is no closure, and the light brightened in my heart.  I’ve had to accept that sometimes, with some people, there are no avenues to receipt of empathy, understanding, compassion, conciliation etc, no matter how I could try or yearn.  I still got left being called a liar and a void, and must accept there is nothing I can do to alleviate this.  I think if anything, I was simply naive, just as I was naive about her. I am aware that some trans-folk have or hold onto their revelation whilst in a committed relationship and hold it in for whatever reasons for however long, but that wasn’t me.  It was the ending of the relationship that spurred me to look at my life and to finally see that which has perennially invaded my unconscious.  I was never given the chance to rebuild trust enough to try to explain how I came out so soon after the breakup, I’ve just received a continuation of the insults and abuse I’ve tried to carry for the past year.  I think this would have happened whether I was trans or not, I have spoke my love, prayers and devotions, retaining the positive memories and experiences, but now I can never look back.  We could have helped each other, and we should have been good friends at least. It is a sad ending. It is a new beginning.

Indeed, I was naive for over 28 years that so called gender issues were such a pivotal issue in my life.  Without the emotional upheaval and final unclasping I can only wonder how long it may have been before I started asking myself such serious questions.  And to be true, after those first few weeks of screaming and crying, I started telling people straight away, because I had no choice it hurt so much to have it all hit me at once.  Mais c’etait et c’est la vie.  The pain from all that is gone now so I know it is over, and in forcing myself to write this it allows my acceptance to breathe, to let go of the hurt, and mostly to let go of the hope it can be resolved.  It hurts me a lot to be thought of as a source of pain for others, I truly hope she can come to understand one day, to let go of her hurt, to forgive the grievances she feels.

‘Forgive people in your life, even those who are not sorry for their actions.  Holding onto anger only hurts you, not them.‘ – Source unknown

I’m sorry.  I forgive you.


The other release was of course related to trans issues, you know, that whole thing where breath is castigated by binders and corsets, for fun…  I’ve seen the struggle in myself and many others who in finding ourselves wish to put a name to that which takes us [from a past] to a future.  I understand how important personally, socially and politically it can be to use the names and terms, but I think I am moving past gendered terms, past binary, past non-binary, for now.  I’m sure I’ll proselytize yet through a few more terms of thinking.

I’m not trying to raise myself above, or come up with a new term; I just feel sometimes that all the questioning is like leaving the tap on, all that precious energy cascading into a black hole where answers are echoes.  I’m concerned with my individuality, not my gender, and though they are concordant, even thinking about thinking about a name for whom or what I am seems counter productive.  This is not a rejection of trans identity, it is more a showing of my growing comfort and acceptance in a self-actualized role.  One’s role is to be oneself.

Please forgive the impertinence, I’m just a babe when it comes to actually dealing with this stuff, but for me it is liberating.  No longer do I have to read trans-critical information, nor trans-affirming information and try to apply it to my own situation.  I hope that I have a more highly prioritised sense of self than sense of gender.  As trans, with continued self-awareness I would like to believe one can release the unfettered nature of oneself without bond – yet when dysphoria calls, does thon us ask to lie our identity on a line, or between the tracks?

When trying to explain all this stuff, I’ve found it essentially comes to sound contradictory in many ways, but to other trans folk, these seeming contradictions evoke understanding and empathy, and no doubt it confuses the fudge out of most people.  This shared connection however helps us understand the realities of our incongruities.

I posit to not lie on a line or between a track, but to ride ‘gender’ like a wave, take control of dysphoria like it’s a surfboard, become an expert dysphoria surfer, expect the waves to crest and crash over you sometimes, expect to fall into endless possibilities for choices of direction.  Think of these things for a time, but remember why you came, to find peace, calm, a true smile upon your face as a blazing sun of energy reflects its’ light and the spray blinds you to all but your focus.

Gender happens.  You don’t find it.

Gender is the word used to differentiate whatever it differentiates itself from.  It is an aspect of an individual, more innate and deep than most.  Gender, I suppose, is also a sufficient distinguishment between individuals in certain ways, though not necessarily through distinguishing features.  Gender is not the word ‘gender’, I find there is a serious language barrier which makes it very difficult to engage the precepts of discussing transgender issues from the basis of our awareness. For ourselves, moving on from the traditional sexed values of the words ‘male’ and ‘female’, ‘man’ and ‘woman’, to using those words to describe what we are.

What I mean is, I find myself by unconscious design to deign myself a woman, though I [supposedly] have a man’s everything.  For me, even having to attach those words creates a restriction, for me.  I’m not trying to write New-Speak, I’m just trying like I always have to eradicate those concepts like I try to eradicate any other pre-conceived assumption on human beings based on physical identifiers.  I guess it’s like wanting to talk to someone on a phone with a before meeting them, knowing a mind before attaching bodily traits, like I would hope for others to know me before imparting physical judgement.

This is my current, narrow, not at all serious interpretation. I do not deny, nor am I deluded from biological probabilities. There is too little psychophysical information for anyone to speak with authority. All I know is, trans people exist.

Ok, so the questions are always there, just like the…sigh….dysphoria.  However, I seem to have found a nice calm for now, things are a lot less overwhelming, less mind heavy.  So much anxiety, confusion, and all those things that lead one downhill from getting so single-minded on gender business.  It happens and it’s ok, though we have to take time to step back, we can begin some of the healing at any time.  Part of that is letting go of the past, another part is embracing the present.

Calm water days prepare for rough seas ahead.


In embracing the present, I personally have been trying to cool off on hyperactive transition mayhem, so much as I can be willing.  When trying to eat a mountain this big, the days go by and it seems like nothing can make enough of a difference, only crumbs when it may seem like progress is a spectre, but crumbs are still crumbs, even if few singles bites will make any noticeable difference.  However, it is not a Sisyphesian task, all those little bits matter, they really do bring us closer to our goals, but trying to do too much at once I find can totally jam the system and I personally just end up panicking.

So, I’m trying to tone down the demands.  I’m in a place that is comparatively acceptable for now.  My make-up and voice hasn’t improved, though I have been getting to wear some pretty nice clothes.

My voice is what holds everything back.  I’ve accepted the necessary horror and hard work, and it is a vital factor for me long term.  I don’t want to improve my looks because it feels pointless when I sound like this.  I’m not so much worried about the self-expression aspect so much as the grinding mental incongruity so this is how I do it.  I winged an appointment at a hospital voice clinic next month, and I really think it’s up there on the list of horribly embarrassing things for me to do in transition.  Gonna sound sooooo bad, and I just know I’m going to have a break down afterwards. I have to be honest, if I become aware of my voice in a conversation I can feel pretty uncomfortable.  Ears shall come to bleeding one day, when Amy is around.

I’ve started wearing hip pads and breast forms, even though I said to myself I wouldn’t.  It’s not nearly as internally humiliating as I feared, in fact it felt more appropriate than I would have liked, but hey, whatever works.  I’m pretty self-conscious about it, but not enough to not do it.  I mean, if I grow breasts or get chest surgery they’re going to be there, so may as well get used to it.  Palm to face initializing,  Palm to face engaging.  Palm to face complete.  Not fun, but whatever, it’s fine.

Overall, beyond little trinkets the best thing for me has been being outside, sensing who I am in the world, learning what not to wear, gaining confidence.  Each mistake now is one less to make in the future, and wow there are some really embarrassing mistakes to be made!  With good friends, it can be a lot of fun, and it can be alone too, if you are prepared to laugh at yourself.  I dunno, I must be crazy, because still when I walk into town I seem to be one of the very few ones with even the faintest of a smile.  Do smile!  Other people?  ‘Some folks would try and tell you how to butter your toast.’  Some people want what they want for themselves for you, but what do you want for you? I want your smiles, gimme gimme gimme! 😀


I’m aware this blog is just a big block of writing, so here are a few photos of beautiful Westeros:

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And one of me, cause I love ya 😉

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Spread the happy times people!

Amy Xx

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gender, identity, transgender

An end to justification

A mantra –

‘All is not lost, it’s never hopeless,

I will never give up, I am broken but,’

I had my first trip to the Gender Identity Clinic (GIC).  They had me sit in a waiting room with other people at different stages of none-of-my-business.  What endured was a two and a half hour, one on one, non-stop psychological strip down by someone who introduced herself as Doctor.  In depth topics included:

  • A break down of history with parents, family, siblings
  • Traumatic events and memories
  • Relationship and sexual history
  • School and work history
  • Gender variant experiences
  • Discussion of goals, wishes and expectations
  • Explanation of services and treatment options (laser, wig fitting, voice coaching, fertility preservation, hormones, surgery, therapy etc)

I felt pretty good afterwards, but didn’t realise the toll that comes from expounding many intimacies to a stranger with a badge.  For a few days afterwards I felt totally emotionally drained with no time off work to recover, so it can be difficult even with a positive mindset.  Six months minimum of ongoing assessment for hormones and RLE, that’s not so much a goal as a time-frame to make decisions.

I met a transgirl I have been speaking to online, more a testament of how talking to people online skews individual realities.  Nonetheless we went out and had a very nice time.  She bought me dinner, which was new, so that was pretty nice, though I did feel awkward at having nothing to offer, girl wouldn’t take my money!  For as feminine as she is online, it seemed I was more overtly feminine in my action and attire in public.  Everyone has their own ways and methods, I just found that interesting since I’m more resistant to the entire process.

I’ve been asked to stop seeing my independent gender counsellor so there are no crossed wires with the GIC, though I would not be the first to skirt that advice to have an ally to bounce feelings off that may be wrongly received or interpreted at the GIC, potentially setting back treatment.  I admitted to her that I am an awesome guy, she countered that then I should be an awesome girl if I decide, and furthermore that I could be successful on whichever path I choose, reiterating the previous cases I remind her of who transitioned ‘effortlessly’.

Maybe my dysphoria is just less strong, less desperate, or maybe I’m just used to dealing with the casual betrayal of my emotional brain. It’s a tough decision to make and come to terms with. I already have a man’s everything, I could live easily enough as a man, it would just be a lie, and it would probably feel quite sucky. Or, there’s the alternatives…six months will creep up quickly my dear.

No idea, been way too busy with work and getting through to focus on the unending nagging compulsions that demand I change.

One major success worth noting, I’m no longer trying to justify who and what I am.  I’m transsexual, woopy-do, it sucks, woopy-do.  It’s a step further than acceptance.  I carry a purse, I’m not going to justify it, I just have it, even though I hate the word ‘purse’.  Yes, my posture and mannerisms are what they are now, I don’t feel the need to explain it like I’m acting strangely, in a way that me acting normal merits an explanation to people who didn’t ask for one.

Trying to justify changes takes up both physical and mental time and effort, and I just can’t be bothered.  Even if I were a man and I wanted to dress up like a woman, or like a Smurf, my balls wouldn’t shrink because someone doesn’t like it.  My ovaries don’t quiver at my own doubt.  Just accept it, good and bad, it’s coming for you anyway – doubt, fear, elation, loneliness, overwhelming love.  You don’t need to justify or validate your experience as an individual and unique human being. Even if you aren’t confident in yourself, remember you don’t have to justify it, you need that energy to achieve your personal goals, to justify days well spent!

I know first hand, still dealing with my ex- who said our relationship is ‘void’, because I didn’t tell her I was trans.  The truth is I didn’t know I was trans until after we broke up, I just thought myself a sick man, but she sees it all as a lie, and I am a liar.  I can only imagine the pain families go through when so deeply entrenched.  We had years of epic love, I don’t have to justify that they were real, I just have to accept and get over the hurt.  Love ends, at least once if we are lucky.  Once again character is how you deal with difficult situations, not easy ones! It will take time, it always does…worse things have faded away.

Whilst going through this process, I find it easiest to identify as female, but to think myself as agender, non-binary, whatever.  Just because my brain tells me to take hormones and cut off my penis doesn’t mean that’s what is necessary…necessarily.  Just because my brain tells me I am female doesn’t mean I have to do everything it tells me.  The process of change is maybe not a case of a means to an end, but part of the general eternal balance, intensified, yet still seeking that same equilibrium.

Bring on the Lasers!!!

Amy Xx

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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!

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