Sunday, 12 April 2015

Praise for bloggers.


I have to admire those who are able to keep writing their blog posts, it is a lot harder even than I imagined. I often felt guilty being a reader and not a writer, not that I had much that I could have written about and could never be encouraged to write much at school so was not going to be making social observations like Jane Austin...

How times have changed. I am up with a grey dawn listening to the rain pattering on the skylight, frustrated that I am not able to get out and potter about in my small garden catching the enthusiastic weeds which are trying to pop up everywhere. A few years ago I was more likely to have been watching the dawn break while still reading freshly posted west coast blogs or occasionally chatting to the many brief online contacts that I made over the years.

If anything distinguishes my transition time from now it would be the nocturnal life then and the sleep deprivation! Thank goodness for all those bloggers able and willing to share their lives and experiences to help those countless lonely souls out there trying to sort out their own lives. Would I have made the leap without them showing the way and teaching me about the various systems I would have to navigate? I very much doubt it. I would probably still be lying awake at night head swirling with mixed thoughts. The various plans to end this life should it become absolutely intolerable and it seemed to be ever gradually heading that way, it was always a comfort to know that the emergency exit was prepared and waiting, this constrained and compromised life could be over and the turmoil ended…

As it is the blossoming internet presence  showed me that I was not alone, I had long suspected that there must be some others like me but surely few in number considering how little was ever written about us in print! What a surprise to find that there were so many and these were only the ones who felt confident enough to blog or comment, how many like me mostly keep in the shadows still dreaming of the person they know they should be, dreaming that one day someone would see them for who they were, perhaps love them for who they were and share some bodily warmth. Then somewhere there would be a mirror, my home was almost devoid of such horrors, and s scary reality would hit! A long lifetime of testosterone had surely permanently moulded those horrible masculine features onto my poor body, I could see all that behind the facial hair I hid behind. Some brave souls posted a visual history of their transformations that were a revelation. I could never have done it but here were gorgeous looking women who like me had lived out lives looking not too different from me! Soon video versions were appearing showing that it was not just a visual change but with the new look would come a new voice and freedom of mannerisms long held in check.

Slowly I made changes and cannot emphasise enough how much something like starting to remove facial hair can do to confidence that all is not lost. It is a long process and especially if you have lived long enough to have your hairs start to turn grey it can be a very long and expensive process which you will not be wanting to be doing if you finally take the plunge to step out into the world as your real self. Many women have a good few hairs on the chin but few have stubble! Once my face was revealed and framed by long hair a not so gradual change of clothing soon followed. The sky did not fall, cars did not skid and crash when drivers saw me crossing the road, OK some small children in supermarkets would look a bit confused at seeing  woman who was so all and not going to win a beauty contest, but lets face it that is young kids job to try and make sense of the world and catagorise everything!


It all seems so long ago now. With increasing media acceptance of transsexuals as not being alien horrors to be pointed at and stoned, I had been drawn back to the net to see what had happened to some of those I had encountered along the way. They used to say that once on the net, always on the net, but from what I have found many have been able to vanish without a trace. Many names I have to admit I have been unable to even remember since so much was wiped from my old computer and my dislike of facebook caused me to delete my account. I often wonder how they got on, are they like me finally comfortable in their own skin and able to finally function in the world, did they find love and happiness or just find that like most of us that mostly exists in romantic fiction. A good circle of friends can be more liberating than one exclusive and restrictive relationship. I have at least answered one of those nagging questions from the sleepless nights, nobody has fallen head over heels in love with this old lady except myself and with that I am more than content...

1 comment:

  1. It is a process. I would have to agree with you that as we "get comfortable in our own skin" the on-line life deteriorates giving way to the every-day-life that we once had dreamed of. It is the new normal.

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