Her friends talk on corners

Returning to university has been postponed. My escape has been blocked and now i am huddled in a corner alone. I just have to wait.

The past few days i spent lying in my bed thinking very hard. Between dreams and blackness my mind found time to think of my future in all its respects. Where will my gender go? What impact will that have? Where will my degree get me? What can i do? It is really a time to define who i am so that i can live out my life as that person.

I see myself as a cloud of uncertainty. It would be egotistical of me to say that i am a cloud of potential, but the potential can be for both bad and good. I branch out and try things too see if my cloud will fit that mold. I feel that i need to settle into a shape before i can properly live out anything from study to relationships. I fail at everything if i am not a real shape. Clouds just drift unhappily through life till they break and fall on someone.

After an inordinate amount of reading and talking to those that know, i have come to several conclusions about my situation. I do not feel the same way about myself as most post-op women that i know. They knew all the way along. They had no doubts. They didn’t hide their femininity, they just thought it was the norm. When i was young i was very aware that i had to hide what i felt for fear of ridicule. They didn’t feel the purges and lapses that i get so often. I one day i want to be a woman so much that it hurts. Another day i will feel so uncertain about the whole thing that i will just sit and cry.

I cannot hope to transition until i either sort this out, or accept that i will never full be a woman and that i should be a male. I can explore the boundaries of my gender, but from the male side of the Great Divide.

I also know that the female feelings inside of me will never die even though they are not as strong as a fully trans woman’s. In response to this i will feel compelled to crossdress from time to time but not as a horny transvestite. I have no desire to sit in a bra and panties and jerk off to porn. I am still a woman; just not full time. When presenting as Alice i will still expect to be treated as a woman even though we all know that it is a temporary arrangement.

I have taken a liking to the term ‘gender illusionist’. Being a totally normal male but having the ability to transform into a woman at the drop of a hat. A convincing one at that. I do not wish to be in the closet. If i am not to be a full time woman, i will not hide what i do. It is a part of me and always will be.

I am not dashing my hopes of a full transition, i am just laying a safety net for myself should i fall. The idea of getting rid of my shame between my legs is still rather appealing. The difference between me and girls that have transitioned, is that i don’t mind being a boy; i would just prefer being a girl.

I always have the future to transition should i decide that it is appropriate. I am saddened that the older i get, the less time i will have spent as who i am. The older i get, the less successful my transition will be, but i can’t live as a cloud. I will try and enjoy my life as described above, but should it fail i have the option to transition later. Make the most of now so that i don’t regret my time as a boy if i decide to change.

Well, sorry for such a long post. I got carried away. Just a quick thanks to people on here that comment and encourage me to write more. Lynn Jones for her advice and sharp mind. Alison for her balanced arguments and breadth of knowledge. Snowdropexplodes for always being there reading. And everyone else for reading about me. This blog keeps me going.

xx

Start of the holidays

University is more of a holiday than anything else. You are surrounded by your friends, you do the things that you want to do, and you are away from your parents. 

The Easter break was not a holiday for me. I did not enjoy myself. I sat in my room slowly rotting while waiting for the day to end. It was a most unpleasant experience and i am not looking forward to the summer holidays.

My thoughts about being Alice have been very mixed. I haven’t dressed up for a long while even when i have had many opportunities to do so. I have been trying to think of a explanation but nothing comes to mind. Perhaps i am coming to accept the fact that i will never be a convincing girl so i may as well try and be an ok boy. Since i have been open about having gender dysphoria, i have been distanced from ‘normal’ people. This could be because they find it difficult to talk to someone who they know nothing about and could be frightened of. Or, it could be because i am avoiding doing thing that i think of as boyish, and as such people don’t want to be seen with me because i am not being a boy. I am fairly sure that it is a combination of both of these points, but there is one way in which it can be solved.

If i give up trying to be a girl until i am stable and settled, could i be happier? Would having friends counter the horrible feeling of living a lie?

I feel experimentation is needed. It is too late to win favor in my classes. They already know me as the quiet and strange one. I have a plan.

I cut my hair, buy a wig, and return to being Alice in my own time. I could share her with some very close friends, but otherwise she would remain hidden. I could hide it from everyone who didn’t need to know. Even a girl friend (if i ever get one) wouldn’t need to know. If i get a boy friend, i would probably tell him, but i don’t seem to be very popular in the gay community. I mean people like me, but they wouldn’t consider going out with me, or even kissing me.

I feel very young again. I feel like i have never been kissed or been with anyone. I feel like starting again would be a real step backwards and i am afraid of it.

Coming out was very difficult. Going through it again would be traumatic.

It is likely that i will get very drunk tonight and end up being miserable. Sad times for all.

xx

Back down the hole

*WARNING – this post may contain too many Alice in Wonderland references*



---

My depression is coming back. And it is coming back like a steam-train. Unstoppable, unrelenting, and something that i recognise.It makes me feel sick. I am not strong enough to cope with everyday pressures that life throws at me. So many people are so happy, they just don’t see it. I wish i could be like that. I wish i could enjoy things. But everything i do, i can never see the happy side of it. I am forever stuck in the negative. Being bi-polar wouldn’t be so bad because i would get the highs as well. Right now i just get one long incredible low.

I may need to go to the doctor soon and ask for help. My work is suffering heavily. I have missed an entire essay. Two essays have been given in late, and i have failed two moduals. I have been unable to tell anyone in the department about my issues because i see them as somehow irrelevant. If i have a physical problem, it would be ok. If i broke my leg i would feel justified to miss an essay. It is the problem that i am perfectly able that is bothering me. I know that if i had the time and the energy, i would be able to do the essays to a very high standard.

Sigh

I will see how things go over the easter holidays. Perhaps things will brighten up..

I have decided to put being a girl on hold. At least until i am happy. Things are just too difficult at the moment without the added bonus of being transgender (although that is contributing heavily to the depression).

Help is greatly appreciated.

 Oh and my love life is suffering blows from every angle.

Tueday’s dressing

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/

A little bit of my writings.

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.

A poem

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

Obligatory new year post.

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

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

So cold…

Things have been strange and distant. I don’t really have much to say. I have just being going through life in a very passive role. I haven’t dressed as Alice for a while now and it is really making me sad. To this end, i have decided to try and spent the entire weekend en femme. I shall go to the shops soon and buy some cosmetics as i have run out. I shall pick up my straighteners when i go home this weekend so i shall look slightly less like a man. I may even have some new photos to show.

I shall be seeing both my mother and brother this weekend and it may be the first time my brother will see me in a skirt. I am a bit nervous, but i think he will accept it.

I have been feeling empty and alone for a long time now. I need warmth of others to keep me going. I have isolated myself by being a girl and it is difficult. I could give it up and pretend to be a boy again to win affection, but i mustn’t give up that easily.

Coming out, again.

On Friday night, i got a bit drunk. This is a fairly standard activity for people of my age range, but this time i decided (in my drunken wisdom) to tell everyone about myself. In horrific detail.

We were playing a game which involves telling each other the fun and interesting things we had done. The more drunk i got, the more i was prepared to reveal.

By the end of the evening i had told everyone that i was planning on going on hormones and that i would be spending more and more times dressed as a woman. Most people reacted very well to my revelations. Nobody was full of hate (although some people had many misunderstandings). Had i been sober, i would have been rather full of joy that i had finally told people.

Later that evening we went out to a club and i was dressed as Alice. This was a wonderfully freeing experience because everyone was treating me as a girl. It was like having a dream come true. Unfortunately i passed out on the bus on the way to the club, so i have very few recollections after that.

Lessons learned from the evening’s festivities?

• Don’t drink when you intend to give away important details about your life.
• Alcohol spoils a good night out if you have too much.
• Drinking makes you forget good times.
• Being honest is for when you are sober.

This is not to say that i will stop drinking. I am a student, the concept of being sober strikes fear into my very being. I will however, cut down when i am going through emotional times.

I am sorry for the poor quality of this entry. I shall improve it drastically in the next one. Forgive my writing style at the moment, but my mind is elsewhere. Stay with me and i promise i shall return to my good writings again   .