Sunday, 22 February 2015

Too much sex...

To look back and wonder how life might have worked out if things had been a little different must be something we all do from time to time.

I knew that I was transsexual at an early age even though it would be a long time before I became aware of the actual label. It now seems strange to me that the actual label never really bothered me for many decades until it became something  that I finally had to do something about. All of a sudden there was that three letter word "sex" jumping out of my label!

Even before I reached school age I had decided that I had to keep my head down and never let anyone know what was going on in my head. Clearly the world was divided into two groups, boys and girls. Adults were in charge and seemed to know how things worked and what was going on but they thought I was a boy, something had gone wrong and I must be unique. Best stay quiet and see how things work out.

I was sent to school to learn about the world, sounded like a great idea, I kept being told how much I would enjoy it. They were wrong! From the first day it was as if all the other kids could read my mind and I was rejected by boys and girls. A real shame I had been looking forward to being friends with girls even though I knew that boys were supposed to not like girls and if I followed my own rules I should seem to not like them either. Thankfully I was shunned rather than harassed, that would have been hard to live with. After the birds and bees lessons it was clear that there was something wrong with me and there did not seem to be any place in the boy meets girl, gets married and have children world I was being taught about. My emotions were clamped down tight, I was surely going to have to live alone for the rest of my life.

I had known from early days that there were women who liked other women in a special sort of way. I knew that was what I was supposed to have been but clearly women like that were never going to want to be with someone like me!

For a couple of periods I have spent time with women who did wish to get close so I am not totally without intimate experience as I thought I would be. Sadly though they must have chosen me, because I have never done any seeking, for my less than aggressive masculine self they each soon got bored with my caring nature. People who knew me were surprised that once rejected I was not straight away out looking for someone else.

Do those of us who do not see a place in the world for us clamp down so hard on our desires that they never get to function at anything like the intensity of everyone else. I would love to be loved, to have someone who wanted to hold me close and enjoy touching the body of someone who loved them...

The great irony of my life is that since my transition, several women who I knew before have felt the need to tell me that when I was half pretending to be male they did find me attractive. None ever gave the slightest hint before.

Once I had determined that change was a must for me I was confronted with the only label I could use and it included those three letters, s, e and  x. Most inappropriate for someone who had so little use for that small world or for the human acts it is now used to describe.

Many enter their transition wondering just what orientation they will come out with. I went in having thought I was the world's most undesirable lesbian and have come out the other side with my orientation unchanged. I can now say that I am an old lady set in her ways. Who knows what the future holds? Nobody really knows my innermost desires, I am not going to wear a badge or carry a banner declaring them to the world and still think I have not exactly climbed many rungs up the ladder of desirability for any other with similar leanings out there.

You may be wondering why this sudden confessional post. Over the years the net seemed to carry a number of similarly themed posts at the same time. Now there seem to have been a number about those post operative feeling the urge to test their newly fashioned women's equipment. Once more I am feeling a bit of an outsider. There is nothing I can offer, I have almost no experience of the chaotic rituals leading up to coupling, chances are low that I shall ever need to know. Jealousy is not part of my makeup, then again neither is anything to do with sex. The reduction of interest, from almost nothing to as close to zero as it must be possible to be, makes the constant references keep me further from the web than ever before. The ever increasingly sexualised world is an irritation, I am very glad that I have not been born into the world as it is today, where sex has become a casual craving to be satisfied much like a visit to a fast food joint for a less than gourmet meal, worse is the expectation that everyone should be participants much like Rome at the court of Caligula.

I shall never know if I was responsible for conditioning myself against sexual desire or if it was just the way I was born but at the moment I feel like a non sports fan trapped at something like a cup final / super bowl surrounded by a hoard of wild irrationality. This is cutting more ties to the blog world I have followed for so long.







Wednesday, 11 February 2015

Better gardener?

In my past life a mixture of SAD, seasonal adaptive disorder popular this far north in winter, and my cycles of depression used to make this time of year a regular misery.

Transition cures,well at least I think it cured my depression. being happier gets me out in the little sunshine there is which combats the SAD so I no longer waste the days away watching old movies. Nor do I seem to spend much time online reading a certain kind of blog or as you may have noticed, writing one.

Our winter has not been very severe but many days have been too slippy underfoot to risk a long walk so I have busied myself organising my clothes. In the past this might have taken me all of half an hour going slowly!

Girls seem to have loads of clothes and they cannot all be thrown into a washing machine together! I come from an age when clothes were relatively more expensive, would be chosen with care and kept for a long time and repaired if necessary. I have not changed. As I have been sorting through my "wardrobe", which long ago expanded out of the once more than adequate wardrobe, I have been freshening some things up ready for the spring and even getting items dry-cleaned! It was long my policy that nothing would be bought which needed dry-cleaning and nothing which needed ironing after washing. These rules have long since been abandonned.

I have been resurecting my mending skills, these more delicate items cannot just be put into the gardening clothes pile even though I now try to look more glamorous when out tidying my patch than I was in the past. Darning a favourite autumn coloured sweater is proving to be a challenge but now that I have a present of some machine knitting needles which I can push through the garment and then drag back a thread without catching others. I should now be getting on with a lot less effort.

It is just as well that I now make this early start because the days are lengthening, many are now mild and sunny and green shoots are testing the air. It is so easy to be late clearing away the old growth and making the job several times longer and harder once you have nowhere to put a foot. The old me got caught out every year without exception being hard to reactivate from the winter blues...

Transition and you will be a glamorous and better gardener!