Monday, October 30, 2017

An Outfit for Comfort

Tunic - White House Black Market - Similar
Leggings - White House Black Market - Similar
Shoes - Saucony - Similar

This outfit was what I chose to wear while driving home from Vegas last month.  I knew that I wanted to be comfortable for the drive and thus I wanted to wear some of my favorite things, but still be super comfortable.  I had considered wearing my favorite pair of booties with this look, which seriously would have been lots more fashionable than the pink tennis shoes, but they are just not very comfortable to drive in.  I like them, but the heel is a bit tall and kind of puts my legs in a bit of a twist while driving. 

I was surprisingly emotional on my return trip from Vegas.  I super love being on the right hormones finally.  I really had know idea that I was on the wrong hormones for so long, but I guess it is better late than never to finally figure it out!!  Ha!  Good luck to all the rest of you who might be considering this path!  Seriously.  Good luck.  It is enjoyable, but if I had not been working on my mental state prior to embarking upon hormones this all would have seriously put my panties into a twist! 

Suffice to say for now, I was a bit emotional and needing some comfort on my return trip from Vegas.  This outfit provided exactly what I needed.  Yummy, happy, comfortable clothes.  Yay!  It is really amazing what the right clothes can do in the right situation. 

So um yeah, there ya go!

Love you!!!

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

It's Not Estrogen, It's Me on Estrogen


It not estrogen, it’s me on estrogen, that’s what I would have said, if I could have one of those brains that actually thinks in real time.  For me though my thoughts often come hours, day, months, years, or even decades after the fact.  Things are constantly replayed within my mind, over and over, on endless loops, with me trying out different responses to see how they fit and pondering their implications.

Lately it seems as though more often than not, my most immediate responses are along the lines of “cool, whatever.”  Because seriously, for me, it is like, “whatever.”  Like, that particular thing that is going on is so inconsequential and irrelevant to my here and now, that it really doesn’t make one bit of difference to me personally.  Hmm…. wow, that sounds a bit harsh, no?  A little bit like I don’t really care all that much?  Hmm…. okay, well maybe that is not the best way to start off this particular post, but then again, maybe it is actually the best way to start off this post.

So…. maybe this may be a bit harsh sounding with that prelude… but let’s give it a go, shall we?  Okay so then….

I was hanging out with my good friends, Vivian and Edward, the same couple of the recent post about going out for a spa day, and the conversation was somewhat floating around me and estrogen.  

The comment from my friend that stuck with me, that I have been twirling around in my head, came from Vivian, and it was something along the lines of “I am disputing your so called reported effects of estrogen.”

I’m not quite sure if she knew how much those words stung.  People in my life often tend to see me as being so filled with confidence, that nothing that is ever said bothers me.  Of course, most don’t know about my deep seated paranoias.  I keep them fairly well disguised. So I think that part of me responded in my head with some smart ass remark along the lines of “well, goodie for you!!”  Or some such shit.

It’s good that I didn’t respond then actually, as now I have been able to pull my head out of my own self centered butt for a little bit and see, she was not actually talking about me in the least.  She was clearly talking about herself.  I am quite sure, she was well aware of that.  But me, nope I didn’t catch that at all.  All I caught, was, what?  What?  WHAT????

In my mind, I flipped out a little.  Okay, possibly more than a little.  Maybe quite a bit.

Okay, anywho….. Since then I have been able to see that for her, estrogen has apparently not been a friend.  It is a part of her that she seems to be quite annoyed with.  She does not appear to be any part transgender as she seems to be fine with being female, and has no desire to be anything but female.  But, and it is quite a but, she really does not appreciate how she sees estrogen as affecting her thoughts.  She likes a very orderly and rational existence and does not see estrogen as doing her any favors in those areas.  

So for her, estrogen is uncomfortable, and so of course she will dispute any reported positive benefits reported from anyone regarding estrogen.  

I get it.  I totally do.  

But for me, I doubt that people who are not transgender as being capable of really understanding the transgender experience.  When I attempt to explain to people what being on estrogen actually feels like for me, I wish they could see between the lines, between all of the evidence that I am reporting to them.

My wife actually explained it best, to Vivian and Edward actually.  They said something along the lines of “he seems be more this way or that way, which is different than I have ever seen him,”  I absolutely loved her response “no he is just willing to be himself now and to let you see it.”

Yup, that’s about it in a nutshell.  Estrogen is not some miracle drug.  Have problems in life?  Sorry estrogen is not going to fix them.  Are you an angry person?  Well, just because being on estrogen has made me a less angry person does not for one minute mean that you taking estrogen will make you any less angry.  In fact, if you are not meant to operate on estrogen, it could have the exact opposite effect on you actually.  

For me, it does not matter that I am on estrogen, it could literally be putting me on testosterone, if I was born a FTM transgender human, that would make me less angry.  For it is not being on estrogen itself that has done so much for me in the four short months of being on it, it is being on the right hormone that has done it for me.

I have been on this planet for a bit over 46 years now.  True, not the oldest and wisest among us, but neither am I the youngest and most naive.  I have experienced quite a bit.  Many times I have thought that I had a pretty good bead on things, that I really understood things on a deeper level.  Nothing I have experienced before this prepared me for the utter blatant reality of who I am.

I’m not going to say that I have actually been a woman my whole life.  But I can say for assurance, that my brain has expected to be operating on estrogen since I have been born.   It’s darn near impossible to express it to anyone who has not personally experienced it.    

I suppose it could be along the lines of some of those ancestry.com commercials.  You know the ones where people grew up thinking they were Italian, and did everything that traditional Italian families do, only to take the test and find out that they don’t have any Italian heritage in their DNA and are actually Armenian?  Or some such stuff.  Yeah, I could imagine that it might be like that.  

So yeah, dispute away.  For estrogen is not a miracle drug.  

But finally being on the right hormone is indeed a miraculous thing.  

Love you!!

Photo:
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/7d/Estradiol2.png

Thursday, October 19, 2017

Little White Dress

Dress - White House Black Market - Similar
Shoes - Naturalizer - Similar

Why isn't that a thing?  I mean, a LBD - little black dress, is totally a thing.  Everybody knows about and talks about a little black dress, but I don't think I have ever heard the phrase, LWD - little white dress.  I personally think it should totally be a thing.  I mean, how cute is this dress?  Totes adorbs!  I really like it and think that white dresses should be just as classic and timeless as black dresses.  True, black dresses often are more universally flattering and fitting for a wide variety of occasions, but still, white could just as easily be the go to color.  Well, as long as you have the right white dress, right?

This is for sure the right white dress!  Of course it is from White House Black Market and I just adore how they make their clothes fit.  They often put seems, stitches, and zippers in just the right places to help hide the problems and accentuate the positive!  This dress has such a universally flattering cut to it with the black stripe cut across the waist in the perfect belt position.  It totally helps for the lower portion of the dress to flare out, giving a nice impression of hips.  As well, with having a zipper up the back it provides for a nice fit across the bust. 

I happened to wear this dress the last time Jules and I were in Vegas for our anniversary.  Jules loves sushi, so while staying at South Point Casino we decided to go downstairs for their super nice sushi place.  I was a bit freaked with wearing such a nice white dress to a place where I may easily drip some soy sauce on my super cute dress, but it all worked out fine and no accidents occurred!  We had a wonderful dinner and a fun night. 

Oh and yes we did go do a bit of gambling after our dinner.  No I did not win anything.  I play stupid games actually.  Especially for someone who knows there math as well as I do!  Ha!  I actually like roulette of all things.  I think the chance and idiocy of the game is fun.  It is especially fun when you have a large crowd playing with people willing to wager larger amounts.  Money comes and go in a blink of an eye.  I always say, I never intend to win, I am simply paying for the entertainment of it all.  If you don't find it fun, don't do it!

Okie dokie! 

Love you!

Love yourselves!

Love the LWD!!!

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Penises to the Left and Vaginas to the Right


We were standing in the men's locker room when I began telling Edward that I get it, as a society, we want to separate the penises from the vaginas.  That is the only appropriate thing to do when penises want so desperately to get into vaginas.  At least that is the logic as it was explained to me when I was just a young kid - in order to keep the penises out of the vaginas, we need to have them exist in different rooms.

It all seemed fair enough, but at some point as a child I learned about gay people.  Then I became confused again about the locker and rest room situation.  Why do we need to separate penises and vaginas when it is not always vaginas that penises want to get into and it is not always penises that vaginas want to bump up against?

Nobody was able to give me a fair answer to this question.  Does it mean that we need to have at least four changing and potty rooms?  One for the penises, one for the vaginas, one for the gay penises, and one more for the gay vaginas.  That should cover it, shouldn't it?

Oh damn, we forgot all about the bisexual penises and vaginas.  Shit, what are we going to do about those bit owners?  Shit, shit, shit.  Now we are in a real f'd up situation.  Maybe we could ask them to indicate which gender they are preferring to have sex with right then and then match them up to one of the four existing rooms?

Okay, that is obviously ridiculous, right?  Well this is the conversation that I was having, standing in the penis room, with my friend, Edward this past weekend.  Neither one of our penises were showing by the way!  This past weekend Jules and I went to Vegas and we decided to have a spa day with our friends, another couple.  That day the four of us headed off to the spa.  Two women, one man, and me, (who is currently refraining from gendering myself!! Ha!!) 

A brief conversation ensued on the way to the spa between Edward and my wife.  "Which locker room is ________ (insert male name here) going to use today?"  I heard my wife respond "well he will use the men's room, I think, being as he is presenting mainly as a male today."  I overheard this tidbit of conversation about me and what I really wanted to shout was "I'm right here!"  But I didn't,  instead I responded, rather loudly, "Oh I will be using the penis room.  Because I get it, we need to group all of the penises together."

Thus it was that as we checked into the spa, and we were herded into our respective genital locations, that in my head, I heard someone distinctly saying "penises to the left and vaginas to the right."  Nobody actually did say those words, but I swear I almost did.  I almost said them as it just seems absurd to me that this is what it comes down to - what is between our legs will always determine which direction we will turn at the locker room.

This idea of separation based upon genitals really bugs me, to be honest with you.  It bugs me so much, and actually offends me quite deeply, that I did not particularly care to go to the spa and be herded off to all of the other penises.  Because people, am I a male?  I was wearing a bra.  With a spaghetti strap tank top.  With breast inserts in.  Sure I did not have my wig on.  Sure I did not have makeup on.  Sure I have a penis.  But I am on the big E, estrogen, if you don't know.  And more and more as time passes I am pondering my own gender classification.  But apparently nobody else seems to care that I don't think I fit all that well into either one of the binaries.

But I understand how society works.  I understand that I don't want to make a scene.  I understand that I don't want to embarrass my friends.  I understand that nobody really knows what to do with people like me in situations like that and that everybody wants me to just go along with things so that we can just have a nice day.  I get it.  I have a penis.

So I followed the group norms and headed off to the penis room, where I proudly stood and took off my clothes, showing quite clearly who I am, and what I choose to wear.  Personally I found it quite funny to be standing in the middle of the penis room wearing a bra.  Then, later, after getting a fabu massage, I again amused myself by donning my super cute black and white polka-dot bikini while standing yet again in the penis room.

Was I rudely interrupted at any point by an unwelcome penis intrusion?  No.  Nothing happened.  No unwanted penises trying to invade my space.  I don't know if anybody even really looked at me.  It was a super huge, non-event.

And thus I found myself at the end of the day contemplating the separation of penises and vaginas with my friend Edward in the middle of the locker room.  At the time, there weren't any other patrons within ear shot, only a worker who was slowly folding towels.

Most people don't really contemplate this whole penis vs. vagina issue nearly as much as most of us transgender people do.  I mean it is right in our face pretty much the entire day with wherever we go and whatever we do,  but I suppose their must be some price to pay for happiness right?

Anywho..... I was having fun with this conversation even if my friend Edward seemed a bit uncomfortable with my forthright conversation in front of strangers, even if he was just a towel folder.  I seemed to sum up my thoughts on this topic with stating, I get it, you want the penises separated from the vaginas, regardless of who is attracted to who, apparently that is not important, well then what do you do with somebody like me, who has boobs (well trying to grow them at least!) and has a penis, just which facility should we use?

It was at this point that the room attendant looked up, smiled, and said "I totally agree with you!  It just seems so arbitrary where we place people.  I wish that more people were comfortable with their bodies and that we didn't have to worry about that sort of stuff!"

We all agreed it was a bit silly having these sort of separations and I think Edward was a little surprised.  I don't think he was anticipating getting a response from that worker as he leaned over to me and said "My gay-dar didn't even go off at all with that guy."  Edward is not gay, but he is bi, and discussing it seems to be a bit new for him.

For me though, discussing being transgender is becoming more and more common.  I seem to be discussing it with just about anybody these days.  And the people I have yet to speak with about it, might possibly be having a conversation heading their way soon!

So, um, yeah.  Spas.  I love getting massaged.  I love being pampered.  I hate being told that since I have a penis, I must go into the cattle pen with all of the other penises.

Isn't there a better way to draw lines between us then what genitals are between our legs.  You know what?  Scratch that.  Couldn't we do better as a society if we stop figuring out where to draw lines and separate ourselves from each other?

I'm female, you are male, thus we are different.  We are so different, we need to have special places for our differences.  We need to have special separate rooms just so that we all don't ever forget how different we are.  That what bits dangle, or not, between your legs somehow defines who we are.  Isn't this all just a bit archaic?  How about if I said, if you are white you get to use these locker rooms, but if you are not white, you have to use those locker rooms.  Oh well then, all hell will break loose.  What about if that was the case when we were heading off to the spa and the question of which facility I was going to use came up?  How would it sound then, "oh well which locker room is _______ going to use?  Well he is Hispanic, so he will have to use the non-white room."

Does it sound okay then?  Is it palatable to you?  Or does that leave a nasty taste in your mouth?

How about this?  Maybe just settle on three spaces.  One for the paranoid penis holders who only want to show other penis holders their penises.  A second for the paranoid vagina holders who only want to show other vagina holders their vaginas.  And a third one for all the rest of us who don't give a damn who sees what is between our legs.

My penis does not define me, and I hate whenever someone thinks that it does and forces me to conform to their expectations for what is right and wrong for me.

Love you!






Monday, October 2, 2017

Of Course I Want Boobs

When I am honest I have wanted to go onto hormones for a long time, probably far longer than I ever even realized.  Seriously, these things are great.  I mean, so flipping great, that I am shocked. 

Why?  Because I have grown the largest breasts ever?  Gawd no!  It is laughable actually how little my body has changed.  When I look at other people's transition timelines, mine is a joke!  Well, maybe it is not mine that is the joke but other people's, as it is tough to understand whether or not everyone actually is honest about these things. 

For me.... physically what has happened in the 3 months that I have been taking a serious testosterone blocker, and applying an estrogen patch, has been pretty much nothing.  I have taken measurements every two weeks of most things from my neck down and there has been only one thing that has shown any change at all, my nipples.  Yup, my nipples have gained about 1-2 mm in diameter.  Which is saying a lot actually.  That means they have doubled in size! 

So, um yeah. that is the big change that has happened.  Nipples that are now about 2 mm, when before they were only 1 mm.  Yup people, that mm stands for millimeters if you don't know.  Oh, btw, since it has come up, and this is a major side rant - the US needs to get over our use of standard measurements.  What is it the US and like two other countries?  Yeah, major players in the world.  So US people, get over it the metric system is far better! 

Okay then, so what is up with hormones that is so flipping great? 

Well, my doctor explained it best.  Hormones are like the software that the brain and body runs on and now I can finally see, I don't think my brain was ever supposed to run on testosterone.  Maybe it would have been better though to say Operating System.  Maybe my doc doesn't really understand tech that much, but I do think she meant an OS.  Like you know a Windows machine trying to run on an iOS.  The feeling is difficult for someone to understand if they haven't ever experienced it for themselves.  It is indeed quite weird. 

Try explaining it to a board of eight employees at your job who run the health care appeal board.  Yeah, I'm sure they all totally grasped what I was saying.  Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Seriously, HA!

Okay, well whatevs..... so back to the story at hand.....

So um yeah.  I finally feel like myself, and I never even knew that I ever stopped feeling like myself.  But I did.  I did indeed.  I stopped being me, oh way back, just about when I began getting massive amounts of testosterone dumped into my system due to a little thing we call puberty. 

I never really knew it, but that changed me from the me that I like, to a different me.  A me that I always assumed I had to deal with.  How does one not deal with themselves?  With the fate that they were born with? 

Another way that I could try and explain how I have changed is something that I told my therapist - I no longer feel like a big angry penis. 

So, the angry part.  Since I'm being honest.  I have been angry for much of my life.  Angry at what, being a boy?  Maybe.  But if so I never knew that.  I have not been one of these people who has always known that I have been trapped in the wrong body.  Nope not me.  Anywho.... I have been very, very, VERY ANGRY!  At a myriad of things.  A vast array of differing and petty things.  PEtty now in hindsight, now on estrogen!  Ha!  Okay, so anywho, suffice it to say I've been an angry person.

The penis part..... when testosterone hit me, I began to have intense biological needs to stick it, the big hard it, into just about anything.  Seriously anything.  An apple pie?  Nope, never did that, but I did plenty that I am not about to discuss here.  But the need to get it in, and get off, has been a huge driving (ha) force in my life.  Like a life mission of sorts. 

So...... now, now that the fog is clearing, now I can see just how intense those two aspects of my personality became once testosterone came onto the scene.  But now, now the angry is departing and the penis is becoming friendly.  No longer a driving, surging, need, but now a fun friend that comes about when wanted.

And there you have it.  The some total of my experience with three months on HRT, 2 mm large nipples, and no longer a big angry penis.  If this is all I ever get, I know that it will be the right decision.  I mean sure, of course I want boobs, but if I don't ever get them, I think I will be okay with that. 

Right now, I feel okay with a large number of things that I never thought I would.

Right now, I'm pretty darn happy.

Happier than maybe I thought I ever deserved to be.

Be happy.

Love you!

Love yourself!

You deserve to be happy.

Seriously.

Oh - BTW, the newest picture on this post was from January 2016!!!  Ha!!!  Those are some nice looking boob!  (All shadows and photography tickery I tell you!)