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Introduction

Well, here we are four posts in and I have not yet put up an introduction to the blog.   Those who know me, probably know that this is pretty typical.   But, enough about that, let’s get to the intro. What do I intend with my blog?   I am firstly trying to take the jumble of thoughts that transition has created and try to impose some kind of order.   The many new experiences I am creating for myself as I try to navigate my gender need a place to be put and ruminated over and fitted into my new self.   It is through this cataloging and thinking over of new experiences and thoughts that I can find some control over where my transition is going. Second, I want to help other trans folk, especially those who are young and new to realizing they are or might be transgender.   I spent a very long time resisting the idea that I was transgender, and avoiding thinking about what I had to do to finally be happy and live.   I took so long to come to terms with my gender and transitio
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Recent posts

Dating, Dysphoria and Doubt

I started chatting with a person on a dating site.  And they really aligned with a lot of what I am looking for... if I can be said to be looking for anything.  Generally, I don't look, for many reasons that could be a post of their own. What I do is make connections wherever I can, and if something blossoms that is great! But this woman, she started pretty good.  Sure there were some small misconnects, but we acknowledged them and discussed them.  I was willing to continue talking and see if there could be a connection. As the discussion proceeded over the weeks, I noticed that I was getting very into her.  All her professed wants and beliefs in a relationship were matching mine.  Her hobbies and likes also matched. But then came the yellow flags.. Little things that just didn't add up.  Turns of phrase that didn't match their history, and avoidance of any contact but messenger, professions of compatibility with no way to know the truth of them, professions of beauty that
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Sex while Trans and Lesbian

This one is going to be a rollercoaster, and probably not a fun one?  I don’t even know what to title it.  What I used is probably inadequate. CW: Sex talk, Sex while Trans, Maybe some internalized Transphobia, GCS, anatomy So, I had an absolutely amazing sexual encounter.  I really would love to experience something like that again.  I mean, holy shit…  But now I hate the existence of my penis even more than I have for quite a while. Let me explain. I have been actively afraid of creating connections with women because I was absolutely terrified of how I expected sex to go.  I have quite a bit of genital dysphoria, and I definitely have some amount of internalized transphobia that tells me that nobody I am interested in will even accept the presence of my penis, nevermind be willing to try to interact with it in ways that I can find comfortable.  You see, it took most of a year since I began transition to even find some workaround that allowed me to masturbate in a fashion that brough
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Touch, Sex and Distancing

I have stated before, I am sure, that touch is one of my primary love languages. It took me time to figure it out, decades, because for decades I avoided contact with people. I was very physically distant from people because I was afraid they wouldn't accept me. I couldn't let people in enough, except in rare cases, to be comfortable sharing physical space for touch, cuddling and sex. Then I transitioned, came out of every closet ever, and began living genuinely. With that, I began making good connections that I was able to accept touch and cuddles. (Sex is still a little issue... soon to be very relevant to this note.). I love to hug y'all at munches and meetups. I love cuddling with my closest friends and metamours when we can. I love when talking and someone leans against me. I definitely enjoy a good cuddle pile. Then C19 hit. 'I should be fine', I thought. I survived decades without people around me. Just fall back on your old ways. Which worke
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Writing

I have always been a writer. My first story was in kindergarten.  I narrated it to my teacher so that she could letter each page of the micro book, and I illustrated it, and it was bound. It was about dinosaurs. Since that time, I have had stories in my head and I have always wanted to write them down and share them.  I have tried often and to various success.  I have been 'published' on websites that didn't pay, or even care if you put words there or not.  I got some great feedback, and people expressed that they liked my stories, but I had no major acclaim. I submitted ideas, both completed and prospective, to publishers, but I got nothing but rejection letters in return.  The time since my last attempt was a sizable time ago; I was discouraged. But, in the past few months, I have been energized and gotten back to writing and have sent out three more stories in just the last few weeks, with two more in a few months when I have them written.  I am loving this,
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Touch Starved, Low Self-Esteem and Boundaries sometimes don't mix well.

I love physical touch, it is one of my love languages. I "know" you care about me when you touch me and let me touch you. This is not just a lovers thing either, any close enough friends are someone I would love to be touched by. Arms around a shoulder, hugs on meeting (or just because), rest your head on my shoulder or chest, lean on me, sprawl over me... Anything. But, I have trauma in my past. A man took touch from me without my permission, and twisted it into imprisonment and coercion to further violence. So to keep myself safe, I need to hold people away until I know them well enough. Till I can feel their touch and not his. I know I deserve to feel safe, and my feelings for my safety are valid. But... I have really low self-esteem. I don't actually believe what I know all the time. I value another's desire as more important than my needs. If someone I consider friends enough to, for instance, friend on social media like here on FetLife, I have a hard
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Winter, a story

I was listening to a streaming service and I heard a song one day.  "Winter" by Tori Amos.  And as I was listening, something just struck me. It really got me in the feels, ya know? Well, after I stopped crying, I began writing this story in my head.  This story is kind of autobiographical.  That means that it evokes many things I have felt throughout certain phases in my life. It encompasses some things I wished had happened. And it uses tiny snippets of what did happen in a way little different than it did. Tori Amos' song is not about transition, nor is it in any way about my life.  But, many of the words and phrases do dovetail into my life experience very well when I listen to it. I hope she forgives me it's use for this. Without further ado, my story:  Winter. Winter : A child runs down the staircase, lit from the sun glistening on the fresh falls of snow outside.  It is a cold morning, but there are too many things to see; too much to do.
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