Trans Matters

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No not that kind!

 

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Ok this following piece is going to be a very personal one and will deal with issues of Trans Gender and cross dressing. If this is not your cup of tea (or you know me personally and think that this may be too much information, yes you!) then I would recommend going no further……..

Ok. Are you sure? Then we’ll begin….

There is four things that have always fascinated me. Doctor Who, the supernatural, exploration of the self (both psychological and philosophical) and fetishes. I really don’t know where the fascination for fetishes has come from. I remember reading a book in uni on it and just got engrossed in learning why certain fetishes appealed to people as they did. But my interested started a long time before that and maybe it was because of some of the fetishes that I enjoyed myself. Ones that I would often feel guilty about, as if it wasn’t normal. I’m not going to go into details about which fetishes I like or don’t like except one of them was cross dressing. I began to want to understand what made such things fetishes. Was it something inherent or caused by something in our childhood? Maybe it’s just my interest in psychology and philosophy wanting to know how people and the world think and work. Or maybe I just wanted to know I’m not the only one out there. That what I like does not make me abnormal.

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And as long as such things don’t affect other people then is there really any harm? What happens behind closed doors stays behind closed doors. But what happens when it’s something more than that?. For over a year now I have been considering my gender identity. It no longer is simply just a fetish, something I do now and again but now an impact on my everyday life. Like many times before I have done research into transgenderism. I have read articles, watched You Tube videos and am an active member on a LGTB forum. Many of the You Tube videos I’ve watched have documented the tubers transition. I feel at the moment I’m in a position where I don’t know which way, if any, I want to go. It is a very confusing time for me as I swing from one feeling to the other. Or there’ll be times when I’m out somewhere and wished I’d gone more feminine or less.

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Sometimes I think that I would just like the chance to be out there for a short time and have considered drag act. Other times I think of if I want to actually start transitioning, begin medication and look towards surgeries. I’ve swung from thinking myself as a male to thinking of myself as wanting to be female and now lie somewhere in between counting myself for now as genderfluid. It’s gone from simply just dressing in clothes to trying out make up, wigs and I love doing photoshoots (even if they aren’t the best.) That is the other big thing for me. Would I pass? Could I pull off a feminine look. And it’s not just the look. The voice, the walk. They are all little tell tale signs of what gender someone is. And for me it’s not about wearing skirts out. I have women’s jeans and tops that overall could be seen more as gender neutral. Even if I was to simple go out as a cross dresser (something that seems to be less accepted then being trans) would I look good enough to be accepted or be stared at like I’m some sort of freak.

The novel I wrote is based around many of these themes and it has to be said that it was both helpful in allowing me to express and explore my own feelings but also brought up personal questions that I have had to face. True I have to admit I don’t feel the same every day, it is something that is ever changing which is one of the things that makes it so hard to decide what to do. Although I don’t really suffer from the dysphoria that other trans people experience, there was a time where I had to shave before I’d go out even if it would make me late and even going without earrings sometimes can feel wrong.

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But a few weeks ago I decided after four months of contemplating to final go and get my hair done and to have it dyed red, something that I’ve wanted to do but have held back. It is a bold move for me. Over the last year I have been pushing little bits such as painted nails and wearing earrings. No longer is the wearing of knickers something done for quick excitement but actually worn daily just because they feel right. In fact I recently figured out that I actually own more pairs of knickers then boxers! At work there are other little signs I’m giving out.

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Reaction to my hair have ranged from people liking it to downright piss taking. I’ve taken it in my stride, rolled with the banter, none of the comments were meant in a horrible way. It has also lead to the outcome that a couple of team mates remembered the character of Jessica Rabbit. Again I rolled with it and have now accepted the name as a nickname I use when playing. In many ways this takes away the power they have of taking the mickey because I’m not biting plus it’s putting the idea of a more feminine me out there. Personally I like it. It may not be a nickname (or alternative name) I would have chosen but never mind. Plus I have recently just started watching a You Tuber cross dresser called Jessica who has helped again to give me more confidence in myself. There does seem to be a nice symmetry there.

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But I want to get more involved in the community that I now feel part of and to help others. For example I make regular donations to Mermaids. But I want to do more. I want to help not just because that’s the kind of person I am but also because maybe by getting more involved will also help me figure myself out. I haven’t had much chance to get to Pride events and hopefully this is the year I’ll get chance to go. I’m also looking at a few other events coming up. I don’t know if my home town would ever do something but it would be great to be involved.
When I started this blog I wasn’t sure where I was going to take it. I knew I wanted to look at the heroes of my past and how they had affected me and from there it’s built up into my musings and my personal journey.

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When having my hair done my hairdresser told me to be who I want to be and fuck what anyone else thinks. To do what makes me happy. It’s good advice. My friend also told me something similar on her birthday night out. But to be someone who wants to stand up for peoples rights I guess one has to be brave enough to put themselves out there. I have to take on those aspects such as Robin Hood, the Doctor, Ace Rimmer and Batman that I’ve talked about. I’ve said previously about Supergirl, how in my novel she symbolised my main character’s realising their secret self and how Supergirl herself seems to be a metaphor for coming out as you true self as she does in the pilot episode of the series. I’ve mentioned about how maybe one day I’ll have my own Supergirl moment. Something that I would never have imagined myself doing.

This month is Pride month and this is it. It’s another little step but an important one.

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Untitled Drunken Musings

 

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It’s quarter past twelve on Saturday night. 03/06/18 to be precise and I’ve just got in. All in all in’s been a hell of a night. It’s not a post I was planning to blog and it’s thrown my schedule out a little. It should have been a Batman themed one with a blog on how I’ve joined a new mediumship circle to be the next one I wrote. But this night has prompted an unscheduled piece. One which I think needs to be posted sooner more than later but also ties in with my previous post on Ace Rimmer.
I’ve been out on the town. It’s my friends eighteenth and she’s invited me out. It’s a night I’ve been looking forward to although she and her boyfriend are the only ones I will know. Flashback to earlier in the evening when I’m getting ready to go out. Baring this month pride month. I’ve already ordered some rainbow laces. Yet I hesitate on getting ready. Do I wear earrings? Do I dress on the more slightly feminine side or more manly? In the back of my head is the question will I get the chance to pull? It’s not a question of worrying what people will think of me but more an issue of if it will effect any chances tonight.
I’ve had a quick tidy up around the flat today and hidden the more questionable items of my personality away. You never know.

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The night goes well. A couple of pints followed by many cocktails. I feel relaxed around the people I don’t know, my friend’s family and friends. Her mum even offers me a drink, a thanks for looking out for her daughter. I guess I’ve been mentioned before.
But something happens towards the middle of the night. It’s about ten and we’ve been out a few hours. There are some attractive women out tonight, one of the group is lined up nicely with another. I’m slightly jealous, yeah I want them to get together but I feel left out. My friend is constantly kissing her boyfriend. And the girl serving behind the bar I find attractive but she is too young.
But in my slightly intoxicated state I realise something. A fact. I’m going home alone tonight. It’s likely I’m going wake up in the morning alone and feel depressed about it. The girls around me are too young for me and I know my time out on a scene like this has come to an end. Tonight is almost like a flashback, a reunion. It’s like when Doctor Who has an anniversary special and old Doctors come back. They’re older, their time has come and gone and although it’s a nice nostalgic trip it’s a one off remembrance of the old days. I remember past days of glory when I’d be out on a Friday and Saturday night until the early hours of the morning nightclubbing it away.
Ok I feel slightly depressed about this. For a moment I want to go home and call it a night. But on the other hand there is something liberating about it. I know I’m going to be going home alone. Although I’ve seen girls that have peeked my interest I know any chance with them are non-existent. There’s no expectation for me tonight. I can go with the flow and not worry about what I say or do. It’s not a totally great feeling. I would still love to hold someone close to me, to have someone kiss me, those strings of passion whether or not they actually leads somewhere. Even the scary possibility that I’d wake up next to someone I hardly know in the morning but knowing it had followed a night of sex. It’s not so much I’m passed it but the fact that for me this isn’t a scene where someone like me is going to connect with someone else any more.

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Luckily I stick around. Maybe it was just the drink effecting me, maybe I just decide to go with the flow but more than anything it’s because this is my friends night and she wants me there and by the state of her she needs me there. She’s reached that state!! You know the one where the drink is making her tearful and regretful. Where she thinks she is a bad person and people hate her. I remind her that she is great and I remind her how she has been a great friends that has always stood by me, supported me. She wants to read my novel as soon as I can print it off. She is the one that encouraged me to get my hair dyed red. Have I mentioned I’ve had my hair dyed red? Most people despite a bit of banter have been ok with it, only Friday night did a couple of people go over the top with taking the piss about it. But my friend she has been there for me and as I quietly tell her all this she hugs me and rather more loudly then I would like mentions how great my hair is and how if I want to paint my nails and wear makeup then fuck what anyone else says. Yeah thanks M***. But in all seriousness it makes me feel better for who I am.

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It’s gone eleven and the group is now leaving. Her friends and family have lifts home. Her boyfriend and I grab food from the kabab shop and between us we manage to walk her home. Leaving them I walk back home eating my burger. I live in town. I could have got my food and been home within two minutes but I get my friends safely home. It’s something I have always done. Another flashback to fifteen years ago when I’d be out with my female friends, (I also used to be with female friends more than male ones. Maybe that was a sign) making sure they got home safe before I headed back, usually alone to my own flat. I guess somethings don’t chance, just people. I feel better about myself because A. I’ve only had a simple burger without chips and not a large pizza or something as I’m on a diet and B. I’ve celebrated my friends eighteenth and I’ve got her home safe. I’m thought of by people as someone who looks out for people. Maybe someone went home tonight thinking ‘what a guy ‘about me. Although given some of the comments I got tonight they might also have thought ‘what a girl’. It doesn’t matter. The depression I’m starting to feel now and will hit me forcefully in the morning will also pass and I hope that I’ll remind myself that despite my problems I’m a good friend and that I have good friends out there that also look out for me. And hopefully I’ll also forget that I resolved that this was my last swan song out drinking around town next time the opportunity comes up to go out.

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Oh god. It’s five thirty in the morning. I’m wide awake with a cup of tea and no hangover. No surprise there, I never get them and for some reason I always wake up early although this is sooner than even I expected. But there is something different. I’m not here cringing at anything I said or did last night, which given that my anxiety usually makes me question any social interaction is rather nice. There’s no bitter disappointment that I came home alone. Sure it would have been nice after a year and a half but never mind. I already have enough on my plate. No all I have is memories of a great night out and the knowledge that I’ll have the opportunity to take the piss out of my friend sometime in the near future.