You are currently browsing the monthly archive for January 2008.
Apologies for not posting in a while (i wonder how many blog entries start in this manner…)
This have been up and down as usual. Tuesday evening contained the highest frequency of transgender related thoughts, so it is that which i shall document now.
I hadn’t had a very good day so my mood wasn’t amazingly high. All i wanted to do was get back home to dress up as Alice. I longed for the comfort of a skirt and the warmth of a corset. The clinging niceness of tights and the heart-stopping feeling whenever i caught myself in the mirror.
I was desperate to try on the outfit i had bought with lily the weekend before. We had spent a glorious day together (the details of which i am not going to record here for the sakes of public decency 
).
I shaved, showered and prepared myself. The symbolic act of cleansing myself before i become a girl is not lost on me. I rid myself of the traces of boy on me so that i may pass through the dividing hedge unnoticed.
I started with my underwear. Cute black panties, a plain black bra and some dark tights. Over the tights i put some beautiful hold-ups. I had to wear them over tights because my legs have not been hairless for a while. This is partly due to apathy and partly due to lack of opportunity to dress up. Next came my new favourite skirt. Then a white t-shirt covered by a new cardigan.
The plan was to go out later to a party, so i didn’t put any make-up on for fear of it smudging or running. I checked myself and took a breath. I opened my door and walked slowly into the foyer where the rest of my block had gathered before leaving. I went generally unnoticed. Some said that what i was wearing was not perhaps appropriate for the occasion. For some reason this really upset me. I was in the wrong mood for anything and i was already very tense. I just broken down and headed back to my room to change into more manly clothes. I sat on my bed and wept for a while.
I ended up going out in boy clothes and having a really rotten time. I had hoped that if i tried really hard to be a boy, i could perhaps find a nice girl with whom i could find cheap happiness. Naturally this didn’t happen. I got home and put on my nightie and cried myself to sleep.
/emo blog/
The second sex by Simone de Beauvoir is a beautiful book that I borrowed from a teacher when i was in the 6th form. It turns into a rant at some points but is otherwise a well balanced and logically argued book. The post that follows is irrelevant.
Last night i went out with the LGBT association for the second time. Last time i joined them, i went as a boy. This was my first time as a girl and it was a very scary experience. I had only met these people once before and i was too nervous to talk to anyone them properly. Having overcome most of my fears by the end of the first evening, things seemed to be going ok. Unfortunately i re-established my fears by going as a girl. It was like i was meeting everyone again. I could barely talk to people because of my fears. This may have given some the false impression that i am antisocial and rude. It is possible that few people have warmed to me because of this.
Today has been filled with thoughts and emotions. I had my first lectures after coming back to university after Christmas. I was hurled back in the deep end and told to get on with it. I will have to concentrate hard if i am to pass this year and advance to the next. Academic pressures aside, my lack of social interaction has wriggled itself back to the forefront of my mind. I couldn’t find anyone to talk to in the lectures and nobody talked to me. I feel like an outcast. I tried to sit next to a talkative group of people but as soon as i made the devastatingly brave act of making conversation, i was told that i was sitting in seats that had been reserved for their friends. Hurrah for the implicit ‘you are not our friend so why are you even here?’
*sigh*
I will see Lily this Saturday. I am very excited but nervous. We are out to London and we shall both be dressed up in our finest. The polarity of this event could not be starker.
My thoughts at the moment are so screwed. I can’t think about my present or future. So here is a little of my past (all fact).
My heart was racing. Pounding so hard in my chest that every beat felt like a hammer striking a bell. The stairs creaked horribly as I crept up and into her bedroom. The light was still on and cast a nasty brightness everywhere. Rain washed the darkened windows and the wind made unearthly sounds. A beautiful aroma that is only found in girl’s bedrooms found my nose. My ears were focused on the noise of the lower floor. I was ready to rush out were I to hear footsteps on the stairs.
This was the room where I could find many new and interesting things. This was a girl’s room. I was in the most forbidden place a five year old boy can be.
A few hours earlier the room had been filled with children. Running about and playing. It was a party of sorts, although I forget the occasion. It was all the children from my nursery. Naturally all the mothers became friends and had organised a get-together.
We had been going through the dress-up box when my brother found it. He held it aloft like a grand prize and proceeded to pull the costume on. I sat on the bed in a state of shock. My older brother had just done the impossible: he had just worn female clothes! The possibility of such a transition had not crossed my conscious mind before and it was a great shock.
He stood there in a fairy ballerina outfit. His legs smooth in white leggings, his torso covered in tight stretchy pink material and on his back was a pair of wings. At that moment in time I wanted nothing more but to be a fairy and to be a girl. The world stopped for me. All the other children found it highly amusing that a boy had worn a fairy outfit but they all tried it on. They took turns jumping off the bed floating on the wings of their imagination. I could do nothing. I didn’t dare ask to try it on. Would the others sense my eagerness and ridicule me? Would it not fit or suit me? Would I suddenly be a girl? My mind could not comprehend all of the possible apocalyptic outcomes. My brother came over and offered me a turn with the costume.I paused. I longed to say ‘yes’, to grab the beautiful garment and become lost in a total fantasy. I longed for the feel of the material against me and to see the reflection of my new body in the mirror.
I couldn’t. He would guess my intentions and tease me endlessly. I lowered my head and said no in a very soft voice. I was heart broken. The fantasy was to be denied to me. I could almost feel my heart physically drawn to the outfit. It was perfect. I was very quiet for the rest of the evening much to the puzzlement of the parents who perceived me as a loud and excitable child. They did not know that I was deep in concentration, planning and scheming. I had to have the costume. I had to put it on and be a fairy. I wanted to walk around the room with my head held high as a girl. I had never been a girl before and I longed to know what it was like to be on the other side.
The parents came in and put on a film for us all to watch. The sofa groaned under the mountain of 11 children struggling for the best seats. I was in no mood for a wrestle so I sat on the floor next to the arm of the chair. The movie began and I looked but I did not see. My mind was in the dressing-up box. I was besotted with my new found fantasy. There was no room in my consciousness for anything but beautiful dressed and wonderful clothes.
I gave up. I could no longer just sit there and dream. I had to go and touch it, smell it, taste it and try it on. Fortunately I was in a very good position to sneak out undetected. I left the room as silently as possible only pausing at the door to make sure nobody had spotted my exit.
Now I was in the room and I was shaking from nerves. The fear of being caught as I was dressing up as a girl was great. But greater still was my desire itself. I had made a great effort to note where all of the nice garments had been placed. The room was plundered of all its treasures which were placed in a pile behind the door and next to the mirror.
The next thirty minutes were some of the greatest of my life. Alas, they also shaped most of the next fifteen mournful years.
These are rare from me, so treasure it.
The hooves of the beasts make the floor,
Stiletto craters pepper the wooden boards.
To think of all those feet, so sore,
As they come to dress, Like ladies and Lords.
Two sides of clothes, each on a wall, proud,
Forbidden to be worn by the yearning half.
The sounds of their inner dreams scream loud:
‘Why can’t i wear a female scarf”?
I realise that it is corny and silly, but i like it. It was written all in one go. No planning, no going back and correcting. That could be why it sucks.
I am having some major thoughts to write here. I have been having a bit of emotional turmoil. Things are not going well in my mind. I shall try and record my thoughts as soon as they start to make sense.
x
Happy new year. Nothing has changed but this break has given me time to think and align my thoughts. I am currently sitting in one of my favourite outfits and reading some books i have been putting off for several months.
Today has been really dull. Mother and i had another conversation about my identity. She seems quite encouraging and wants me to find out what i want. Apparently she has been telling her friends that she has a transsexual daughter now. That is quite a shock and a bit forceful really. I now feel i have to live up to the description. We have agreed that father needs to get more involved. He has so far ignored it. We hope we can bring him round to accepting it and finally enbracing it. But that may take a few years. 
Never mind.
x
