emotion

too much of it to write about.

sorry

x

Events and mist

Since i last posted…

• My brother left
• I saw lily
• Lily came to father’s
• We cried
• We had interesting, wild sex
• We talked and cried
• We went ice skating
• She left
• I was cold
• I went back to school
• I messed things up with Laura
• I saw old friends
• I got stranded in the cold
• I wore my corset
• I hid my clothes from father
• He told me of his girlfriend

London is covered with mist this evening. It looks wonderful. I can see out to the river and all the Victorian cobbles are illuminated by archaic street lamps. I expect a Dickensian villain to round the corner to face a tall man with a pipe accompanied by his good doctor. The night has a mystical feel to it and i feel as if i could be anyone in this masquerade of an evening. Sadly father is still against me wearing anything female so i have to be Alice in my head for a while. I apply the slightest of make up so to avoid his detection.

I have felt very down recently because i have not been able to dress at all. This ban will be lifted after Christmas when i will go up to mother’s. I feel very excited about the release of pent-up femininity i feel.

Tomorrow i shall meet up with many of my friends of old and i am not sure what to do. Should i go as my new Alice, or be who they know? The surprise my put many of them off me. I fear judgement although i know it should not affect me.

I am struggling to write my book, but inspiration will come. You will see.

x

An extract from my private diary.

This is my public diary. Very much so. I allow people to read and comment on it. It is a way for me to broadcast my thoughts and find popular opinion on what i am thinking. I like to see what people think. My private diary is quite different. It is similar, but it has a lot more of my non-crossdressing issues in it. It is more of a long rant and an outlet of emotion. I worked out that a string of my lost emotion is not what people want to read. I give you edited highlights. Now i shall give you a less edited piece. I have still taken bits out of it, but not as much as i would normally.

Warning – This post contains lots of love-torn ramblings

What a joy it is to dance and sing!

_{Angela Carter, bitches!}

I had a presentation to do today. I had to stand up in front of my discussion group and give a talk on anything psychological that i found interesting. Terror gripped me.

For reasons discussed in earlier posts, i am not overly social with anyone on my course. I don’t know anyone in my discussion group, so to give a presentation before them was going to be very difficult. Talking confidently and with humour to people who assume i am the quite one in the corner was a challenge and a half.

I awoke at 0630 and started to prepare for the coming challenge. I know i should have prepared the night before but i was out at a party and i knew i wasn’t going to be able to concentrate. I chose my topic and did the necessary research. I grew terribly scared. We had no guidance on what to talk about and i was worried that my topic would be miles away from what was appropriate. I had chosen a light hearted topic that I was interested in. I feared the others would do serious things and I would be out of place.

By 0830 I had finished and was ready to go. I hopped on my bike and rode in to university. It was amazingly cold and I was forced to do a great proportion of the ride with my hands in my pockets (a skill I developed many years ago in the great winters of the early 2000s). I was a bit early so I got a coffee and waited in the grand entrance to the building. I marvelled at the beautiful building that I so rarely enter. Most of my third year will be spent in there, but for now I get very little time in this architectural beauty.

I usually notice people from my group on their way to the room, but today I saw nobody. Naturally, this worried me. I went to the room where we were meant to present. I peeked through the blinds and recognised nobody. Fear layered itself upon my already terror ridden nerves. Had I forgotten it? This is a fair proportion of my grade and I can’t afford to have missed it. I went to the general office to inquire as to my fate.

Turns out that today the group would convene at 1600 instead of 0900.

I was very relieved, but also a bit disappointed. Now I have to last the rest of the day in more apprehension. I decided to go back home to do some work until I had to go to a lecture. I did some reading and wrote down some notes.

When I cycled in for my lecture later, I decided to bring some cash so that I could waste time (and money) in the city while I wait for my presentation. The lecture was interesting but I knew most of it. I walked to town through a beautiful and ancient path designed for the students for my very purpose. I had nothing that I wanted to buy; I only wished to peruse what was on sale. I walked around the market for a while and then went clothes shopping. The thrill of walking in the women’s section of a store is something that only crossdressers know. The excitement of the forbidden and the lure of the pretty things.

I feel extra special, for I have a deep belief that it shouldn’t be forbidden. For me, the act is a rebellious one. I am saying ‘yes I am a man, and yes I like women’s clothes’. We should be able to buy what we want, not what is prescribed for us by sex, fashion or anything.

My mini rebellion went unnoticed and I started the walk back to university to give my presentation. The pre-stage jitters were starting in my stomach. I was hurled back to my GCSE Drama where I was frequently forced to perform. I used to love this feeling. It is anticipation mixed with dread, mixed with the glory of completing it later. I was in a musical or two in my last school but I was on anti-depressants and as such, I didn’t feel too many emotions.

Now I feel it more than ever. It was almost erotic how I was paralysed by fear and excited at the same time. Angela Carter in her infinite wisdom wrote about the stage in her novel Wise Children. Among a multitude of quotations I could use, the way she describes the wait for the curtain coming up is the most powerful for me. ‘We were wet for it!’ Simple and beautifully true. All erotic symbolism of the theatre aside, it was exactly what I was feeling about giving a presentation to my discussion group (a slightly less romantic setting).

We sat in the room and the first girl went up and spoke. I listened intently, watching her and how she performed. She was strong, confident and intelligent. The kind of person who was not doing it for the joy of the theatrics, but rather the one who is bored but willing to do it if she must. The others were not as good. One girl almost burst into tears at the end. She had to sit down and be comforted. I can empathise with her position, but it is not something that I feel myself.

I noticed that it was just girls doing the talking and the of boys seemed intent on going last. I hate to be included in the group of the boys, so I decided to go next so as not be falsely grouped. ‘I am not a boy’ was the statement I hoped to give off. The presentation before mine was on gender identity and development of personality. She finished and asked if we had any questions. I had a massive list of questions in my head. I wanted to question her and for all to know that I was extremely well versed in the topic (hopefully getting some people to wonder why). Sadly she sat down before I could collect my thoughts and I decided that it was probably for the best as I would have spent ages making my point clear.

My presentation is a blur. I slammed through it and just fell back into my naturally actress mode. It was a very comfortable state to be in. I think it may have come as a shock to some people. I hadn’t spoken a word during the sessions and I was suddenly giving the speech with the confidence of a veteran Shakespearian actor. I had the most questions of anyone and I got very high marks for it.

I cycled home and got drunk.

Insults and Hope

I have grown used to insults and abuse from strangers when i go out as Alice. This has discouraged me from going out as much as i would like, but it hasn’t stopped me totally.I am not used to insults from people i considered to be friends.

‘What the fuck are you some sort of transvestite what the fuck has happpened[sic] to you ….FREAK’

This wouldn’t affect me very much in the past. I have become hardened and i now expect such things. Sadly the person who said this was someone who i had known very well through school. I had spent 4 years with them and being civil and nice. Then they see a photo of me in a dress and they reject everything they once knew about me. I have suddenly changed to them. I am not the same person.

*Sigh*. It doesn’t matter that much. I have lost one friend but i am stronger in myself for it. I also had some mean comments here on my blog.

‘when i read this it sounds like ur demented’

Clearly closed minded people with little sense of respect or emotion. I am not sure how to deal with such attacks. I am happy to have an intellectual discussion about my sexuality and gender with someone who is willing to be polite. How do i rebut against such wit as the quote above? People who are full time must get a lot of this and i have nothing but respect for them.

On a different topic, Lily and i seem to be set on some very new and exciting activities. The craving for each other is taking over. We shall see each other in a week but it is hurting so much. We have planned so much. I am having a great difficulty describing what i am feeling but i hope to report more as it is happening. I have a day off on Friday so i shall shoot some more photos.

A day of thought

Today started off with no real expectations. I was off to a fencing competition with loads of people i didn’t know. I confess that i don’t know the name of anyone at the club (except the captain). The day was going to be difficult and awkward. The minibus ride lasted an hour and i sat on my own thinking thoughts. At this point in the day the thoughts were just white noise. There was no substance to them. I just sat and thought about random things that popped into my head. Watching the countryside flash by is quite relaxing.

I had never been to a proper fencing competition before, let alone a national one. It was a rather scary experience walking in and seeing hundreds of people all out and ready to go. I love fencing armour because it can be rather androgynous. I first tried fencing when i was 12 years old. A memorable experience because i picked out a girl’s jacket by accident. The jackets for both genders look very similar so i thought that nobody would notice. The only difference was that i have cups over my breasts which was a fabulous experience for it gave the impression that i had a pair. The effect was subtle enough for me to enjoy it without anyone else noticing.

I fenced fairly well and didn’t come last. There is much to improve but i have only been fencing properly for a year and a half and it was my first competition. We shall see how it comes on. We stood around for ages and i was still alone. Nobody was talking to me so i just stood around looking like a recluse.

We drove back and i was once again in the single seat on my own. It was dark now which meant that gazing out of the window was no longer an option for me. I turned my attention to the conversation in front of me. They were talking about having to lift things and saying that ‘things like that are for boys’. Naturally this infuriated me. How dare they!? Discriminating because of sex. Women fought for equality and now these girls were being just as bad as those who oppressed them. I am aware this is exaggerating and i am being unfair, but things like this make me feel very angry.

Instead of bursting out in a fit of anger, i mentioned in passing that i didn’t count my self as a boy anyway so it didn’t matter. This intrigued them. What did i mean?
I tried to explain without going into too much depth that could confuse things. However, one of the girls kept demanding more information. It is rare to find someone who is genuinely interested in my dysfunctions. I explained to the best of my abilities and she kept on saying how cool it was to meet someone like me. Naturally this was a great boast in my mood. I had almost lost hope in finding anyone who could find me a source of fascination.

We were now on a public bus on the way back to the halls and it felt strange yet liberating to be talking about crossdressing in anything but hushed tones. We said goodbye and i left feeling rather elated and ready for a night out as Alice.

That evening was the Halls’ Christmas Ball. A posh celebration of the finishing of a semester and the leaving for home. I had less than two hours to prepare which was nowhere near enough. I showered, shaved, moisturised, applied make-up and straightened my hair. I spent a long while choosing my outfit. Eventually i settled on a black ball gown with my corset. It wasn’t amazing, but my body was just the wrong shape without the corset. Ideally i wanted a shawl to put over my shoulders to hide their manly width, but i couldn’t find one in time.

I left my room and did the fearsome walk out in to the corridor where my friends would see my outfit for the first time. That is always an odd experience no matter how many times i do it.

- I wrote a large section about the ball itself but it got deleted because my computer restarted. I don’t have the heart to rewrite it now, but i may at a later date -

A good day

I have had a good day for the first time in many months. I define a good day as being one in which i have relativity few negative feelings. I wouldn’t say it was a happy day, but that is not too far off.

I woke up to my alarm at 9, had a shower and had breakfast. I haven’t eaten breakfast for over a month. It was rather a treat. I had my various medicines and left for university on my bike. It was a cool clear morning, winter is here.

Cycling across the park is one of the more beautiful moments in my day. There are long paths bordered with trees and wide open greens which fill with mist. The towers of the university creep into view over the trees and seem to become part of the natural scenery. I gave my essay in on time and went to sit in the medical school coffee shop. There i met a girl who i know from a friend. She introduced me to a girl who was on my course but i had never spoken to before. This is useful. I have a new contact inside my course.

I sat and sipped hot chocolate whilst writing Lily a letter. The words are not coming out properly yet. (They will). I will just have to keep on writing until something good comes.

I went to my lecture which was very interesting. We are studying psychotic disorders. Always a fun topic. Then i skipped to the library to do some reading and admin.

I needed to get a dress for the Christmas Ball on Friday, so i went into the city centre and scouted the shops. I managed to buy far too much, but that is the way of things. I cycled home and put on my Christmas lights. My room is well decorated.

I am also happy because of what i resolved yesterday (see previous post). I am also pleased with how this holiday is shaping up to be. Lily is making life so much better at the moment. I am dominating her in many fun ways. She is totally at my whim. It is very empowering to feel in such control of a person. I won’t go in to details of our actives here, but when we meet over Christmas things are set to be very exciting. Not just in a sexual way though. We plan to go out and see musicals, go ice skating in Kew Gardens.  It is set to be awesome.

A new direction

I realise that the last few posts haven’t really been intellectually stimulating. In fairness, none of my posts are ever really much good. The past few weeks have just produced teenage whining and emotion without explanation. Although these posts are a real insight into my life, they do not help the reader understand my thoughts.

I have had a revelation of sorts. An epiphany if you will. I was in my standard low mood and i was online chatting to some people of little consequence. Then this girl came on and we started chatting as usual. I had seen her online before but hadn’t had a serious conversation or done anything but exchanged pleasantries. After about 5 minutes it became apparent that we were very similar. We are both in our first year of university, both studying psychology and both are boys but wear women’s clothes. There are only three main differences between us.

1. She is beautiful beyond anything i am capable of.
2. She is in Florida.
3. She is happy.

When this was realised, i made it my task to become like her. I find it very difficult to understand how anyone could be in our position and live a happy life. Every day i feel fear and pain because of what i am. Yet she seemed blissful. Why? Why can’t i be the same? How does she do it?

We got talking and my quest to discover happiness took control of me. Then the secret was out.

I have been trying to become a girl. To be everything that society expects of a girl. To rid myself of most of my male traits and totally assume those of a female. This is a good course of action, but it is not for me. I have realised this now. I can never completely be a woman. No matter how much surgery i have, no matter how much make-up i put on, i will always be a man somewhere. I was reading the blog of a transsexual who i deeply admire. She is currently transitioning and she is finding it difficult. She devotes most of her efforts into becoming a woman and looking like one. However she is still ‘read’ by people. They can tell she was born a man.

This shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter what she was wearing and whether she is a girl or not. It is clear she wants to be a girl so people should treat her as one. I have now left the fantasy world and i have come to the realisation that such a beautiful place will never exist in my lifetime. People will never accept those who do not conform to the norms and those who deviate. Their bravery is unmatched by anyone.

I now know that i could not give the transition all my effort only to be called ’sir’ when out in public. It would destroy me. I am not strong enough to be able to take that. Maybe someday i will be and i will transition then.

So here is the plan. Do i return to what i was; hiding in the closet denying what i am?
No. I can not return to that. The pain would destroy me.

The new plan is to be a symbol of perfection. To be androgynous. To take the best aspects of male and combine them with female. Beauty, strength, intelligence, empathy, socially skilled, motherhood, fatherhood and wisdom. I will be both genders and an ambassador for gender acceptance. I will learn about gender and sex roles so that i can argue my point and educate people. I will fight for acceptance and equality. Naturally this is going to take many years and much hardship but i am equal to the task.

I shall keep my female name and i shall continue much in the same way, but i will wear whatever clothes i feel like wearing. Skirt or trousers, i shall wear whatever i want and encourage others to do the same.

Most androgyny is slanted in a female direction. Girls have less far to go to look male than boys have to go to look female. For this reason i shall still wear more female clothes (that is also because i prefer them).

Here ends the dodging round the subject and avoiding confrontation. The cry shall be..

‘This is me.

This is how i want to live.

Fuck you!’

 

I love you guys.

P.S. i may need a new name for the blog, any ideas?