Questioning the Fluctuations

This isn't the scribbling I intended (or promised) to note as I stated in the last entry.  However, it is part of my developing thoughts on this future subject.

A couple of weeks ago, I took four days off from work and headed into London for some exploratory adventures.  Physically.  Mentally.  Emotionally.  Of course, this was all presenting as Tanya.  From leaving home to arriving in the hotel to coming home again a few days later.

I had a great time.  It was not as relaxing as I hoped it would be; as me being me, I don't do relaxing very well.  For example, one day I walked 12 miles according to my phone stats.  I caught up with a couple of friends, explored a few places I hadn't visited for some time.  Just felt free, safe and that I belonged.  Totally the opposite from my first visit to the USA back in July.  Where, although I was presenting as male the whole time, I felt very out of place, limited in my movements and very vulnerable.  Maybe that could be something I should note and come back to in a future article.

For those few days, I was Tanya.  I did not take any male clothes and did not feel out of place or male.  I was a woman in London enjoying all the city could offer.

I had to return to work on the Friday.  Obviously in male mode.  It felt very, very weird to be there presenting as him and not her.  Which is very unusual for me as, firstly, I usually get fed up of the effort of presenting as female after a few days; and secondly, once back in male mode after a girl time, it just feels right knowing that I've switched boxes again.  That Friday, I really missed wearing my boobs; kept touching my chest during the day because I felt that they should *be* there.  Also the feel of the clothes and shoes felt wrong.  Misplaced.  It was very bizarre and, I think, was the first time I had ever felt that way at work.

Getting onto the fluctuations.  I know I am not alone in feeling out of place when presenting as an element of gender.  Sometimes I don't feel right when presenting as male.  Sometimes I don't feel right when presenting as female.  Sometimes I don't feel right when presenting as non-binary/gender fluid/agendered.

It is this that niggles me at this moment.  Frustrates me that I don't have the drive or the natural sense to be happy as a single entity.  I understand it is a very, very difficult situation for those who feel they are 'in the wrong gender' but having to constantly chase your gender fluidity around and find the details to make one feel comfortable with the internal movement, emotion and the external presentation I believe is just as difficult, frustrating and, in a sense, dangerous.  Today's society will generally accept men, women, trans or not.  However, presenting in regular opposing genders or non-binary can be confusing for most people.  Generally people like stability and not constant change. They like that knowledge there's a stake in the ground they can rely on and reference.  For some of us, that doesn't work.  We have our own stakes in the ground, but they may not relate to the gender we present or are expected to present.

Being winter as I write this, women can dress in a warm jacket, jeans and trainers and still look like women.  Yet, when I dressed similarly the other day, I just did not feel feminine. I felt lost and vulnerable.  And yet there are a few occasions when I am presenting as male and get taken as female.  Happened in a local convenience store the other night. Twice. By two different people.

I regularly cycle with a ladies cycling group when I work from home on Wednesadays.  Usually, I present as Tanya.  But even if I present as my male self in the group, I can get treated as female by others outside of the group; cafe, shop staff, etc.

My usual male image (usually at work) now is hair blow dried straightened, stud earrings, nail varnish (quite often bright).  Otherwise, dressed in shirt and trousers.  I am now pushing this work presentation envelope a little by wearing women's trousers and shoes (although looking like normal brogues). I need to get new shirts and a couple more pairs of trousers.  These will again come from women's clothing ranges.

I feel that I'm plugged into a number of aliases that are all still me from my perspective.  The aliases change with the environment, with the people I engage with, with my outward presentation.  I'm generally comfortable with this, but often the more comfortable I am, the more confused I can feel.

The questions. Not wanting to apply labels to myself or restrict myself to other peoples conformities, where does this leave me or even where does it place me now.  Can I be brave enough to keep testing my feelings?  Will my close society, my work environment, the outside world accept my need to experiment a little more?  Will the manifestations merge to a much more manageable entity?  As with much of this, it is not so much how we perceive ourselves but how others perceive us and our reaction to those perceptions.

I am feeling that this may be an opportunity to use that ubiquitous communication tool, Facebook, to tell others who may not be aware.  I understand that that is a door that may never be closed again.  But it could also be the door that may open many others.

Long time. No blog

Have been wanting to get back blogging for sometime but have just not been able to construct writings.

So this is a short post to say, I’m OK, still here yet battling on with the oncomings that life throws at me.  The past few years have been very, very difficult. Many, many highs. Many, many lows.  Some lows very nearly reaching the bottom.  So as you may understand, I did not wish to put the events down in writing at the time, although I may talk or touch on them in future posts.

I have some ideas kicking about in my head for some posts.  So bear-with; there may be some more scribblings coming.....

I've finally finshed what I started.

It's been quite a while since I've written.  Again, not because there was nothing to say.  On the contrary, there's been plenty going on.  I have been unable to record it because of the written words have not flowed freely.  Checking the creation date of the draft of this prose, I have been writing this for 3 months!!

So what's occurring?

In April, we had a Leeds Last Friday night out as opposed to the regular Leeds First Friday night.  This was my first time out as Tanya since the fall.  With the body waxed and the hair done, I was ready to go but didn't feel comfortable being completely out as Tanya.  So I just took the kit for the night out.

It was a great night.  Much quieter than the regular outing but felt more open; less contained.  Must admit that I didn't feel the thrill or buzz that night.  Was just me.  But a little bit more glammed.  Despite the premier showing of a new Karen Millen dress....

I do regret not taking any day clothes.  The other girls wanted to hit the town and have lunch the following day, but I didn't bring any day clothes so went with them as him.  Bit weird really as I'm usually the one who spends all the time there in girl mode while the others revert!

The counselling....  Hmm....  For the most part it was good.  Once I worked out, with the help of the counsellor, that I would not notice any distinct changes.  She helped me take my mind away from finding logical, hard answers to finding my instinctive, more  emotional side of me.  Yet I still didn't find the answers to the conundrums that disturbed me.  For instance, why did I survive that fall and what do I do now?

What came out of the sessions was enlightening and at the same time disturbing.  The focus the counsellor wanted to bring across was to get the many different aspect of me (runner, worker, Tanya, son, etc) into a single entity.  This process was happening.  Yet it became apparent that the Tanya side of this life was more important than I viewed and expected.

For the last two sessions I went as Tanya.  To let her see first hand some of the things I spoke about but also to experience the session as Tanya and note any differences.  I'm not going to go into it further as it's too personal for this blog.  However, the experience was so dramatic, I experienced a few nightmares in the following week.  As Nick Ross use to say at the end of Crimewatch, don't have nightmares.  And I never do.  But these were quite particular.  Like most dreams I cannot describe the whole thing, but they ended with me having boobs, long hair, soft skin and full hips and rear.  I found this a little disconcerting and uncomfortable.  However the really scary part was knowing I was going to have surgery.  Although I am finding the girl side to be stronger than I imagined, I know from these nightmares that transition is not for me.

Maybe because of the counselling, I have made a conscience decision to be more open with the whole me.  I'm trying to keep it contained and under control, but I feel inside as if I want to shout, scream and let it all out.  I have now told a few more of his friends and have even gone out shopping with a very good, supportive friend as Tanya.  The next decision is whether to open up to the family.  I'm quite concerned that as I open up, hints will filter through to my brother via Facebook and if anything else does happen  to me, I don't want the family to face any major surprises.  I don't have a wife, girlfriend or kids.  So I can be as open as I want as my family isn't around me all the time, but I think that could make a surprise like this all the more dramatic (or even traumatic) for them if they stumble upon it.

Otherwise I'm doing OK.  Physically, I'm slowly getting back to fitness and as I get fitter, my recovery time shortens and I can get back to exercise sooner, get fitter, recovery shortening, etc…. The neck movement is still limited, but the actual movement is now smoother, more controlled.  The only major physical problem I have now is with my right foot.  It suffered a great deal of soft tissue damage in the fall.  When I started running on it again, it wasn't too bad, but I think I may have pushed it a little too hard at one point and now I'm getting a few niggles in the foot, due to the ligaments and tendons not being as free as they were.

Mentally, it's a different story.  Apart from the girl stuff described above, I'm still finding life difficult.  However, there is slight improvement and despite many up and down times, it is generally on an upward trend.  The cloudy confusion I have been fighting through is dissipating slowly.  It does come back with a bang now and again especially when I'm tired.  Talking of tiredness, I'm back at work more regularly and for longer now.  I've been working full-time (no, no. Not THAT full-time :-) ) since the beginning of the year, spilt between being on site and working from home.  I'm not sure if it's down to the early hours start, but a couple of months ago I started to get a fatigue that is quite overwhelming at times.  I didn't get it before; it virtually started overnight.  Even that is fading slowly over time.

However, I have concerns about my future.  What lays ahead but more importantly what do I want to do.  Before the fall, I was driven to just keep being busy and doing whatever I wanted.  Although I see now that it was just for the thrill or the buzz of it at the time.  Mountain running, motorcycling, work, dressing up or down, keeping fit, living in part as a woman, whatever.  There was no point to any activity except to amuse me.  Now I'm unsure if I've worded that in the manner it was meant, but I feel now that I should have a purpose to practicing life events, rather than just do them.

After a major life event like the one I've experienced, especially being laid up with little to do for some time, retrospection happens.  When I look back over my life, I have done everything I've wanted to do.  Anything I have been tempted to try, I've tried.  Some I liked.  Some I disliked.  Some just registered OK.  So when I look ahead, all I can see is a large, white wall.  And I greatly feel that I should be writing something on it but I just do not know what to write.  No ideas, no thoughts, no comments, no doodling.

A comment was made on a comedy show the other day, from a daughter to her 'useless' dad.  "You're just filling time" she shouted at him.  That comment hit hard.  I'm not useless but I do feel that I'm moving through life without a purpose; without a grounding.  Just filling time.  This wasn't something that I'd considered before the tumble as I was fit and active and kept myself busy.  Now I'm thinking what is the point of being busy again.  I'm not suicidal.  I have considered it, thought about it and looked at the scenarios and outcomes.  I've mentioned before that I have this 'brave' wanting in which I feel almost invincible and need to do something dangerous just for the hell of it.  A number of times this year, I've noticed a truck driving over the speed limit on the road towards me, and have felt a great compulsion to throw myself off the pavement into it's path.  Obviously, I've never taken that opportunity.  Nor even come close to it.  However, I am quite prepared that if a moment presented itself (like a car or motorcycle crash, another major fall), I will not fight death but accept it as a happy, satisfied gesture.  Like closing a book.

I was going to call time on this blog.  I just can't seem to form cohesive passages that are worthy of blogging, despite doing this for myself rather than thinking anyone is going to read this.  However, an event this week has changed my thinking a bit and I guess I will blog about it later.  The ripples from the event are still passing through my head.  It has made me a little happier and more relaxed with life although the writings above are still true.  Let's see what happens…..

The lost unknown

I've been talking.  And writing.  However, not blogging.  I have been trying to make sense of this befuddling fog that has descended in front of my eyes.  I had an assessment with a counsellor but did not connect with her.  In fact, I came away from that meeting feeling worse than when I walked in.  With the advice of some very good, trusted friends, I sought out other counsellors.  The best advice I was given was to shop around. As with anything in this world, there are good counsellors and not so good.  After contacting a few and taking up initial consultations with a couple, I have decided on taking up a course with a counsellor I like and can trust.  At the moment, I still cannot see the direction in which I'm heading with this, but it feels positive and I'm sure the direction will materialise.

What hasn't help in my recovery is having a minor car accident a couple of weeks ago.  The driver of the other car decided that he did not want to stop at a crossroad junction.  I was driving the car, yet the motorcycle sixth senses kicked in.  My reactions were quick and my car control spot on with the avoiding swerve.  However, it was not enough and my car now sports some minor dents and coloured scratches along it's flanks.  It's now being processed by the insurance.  Yet, it has shaken me more than I'd ever thought.  Some sleepless nights.  Some tears.  Some drop in confidence.

I am finding bravery.  Occasionally too much bravery.  Working from home quite a bit at the moment, I like to keep a bit of girlness on me, which usually means painted nails.  Having my nails done one day, I wanted to have the clear polish with the iridescent sparkles but the bottle could not be found.  So I was persuaded to try a sparkly pink.  I wasn't too sure about wearing such a definite colour to work, but no one noticed (or at least no one commented).  It took bravery to keep the polish on but it worked.

The next brave step will be getting the hair coloured and to get a restyle.  I did consider going back to the bob, but thought I'd take the opportunity to try something different whilst the hair grows again.  With the assistance of my hairdresser, we are developing a new, edgier style similar to Frankie in the girl group, 'The Saturdays'.  Descriptively, it's an asymmetric, short style with a side parting combed across the head over, in my case, the left eye.  I still have a little way to go with the hair growth but in a few weeks, the hair will be coloured a nice chocolate brown with a few blonde and red highlights.  Although my hair was coloured before, it blended in with my natural colour so wasn't particularly noticeable.  This time it will be noticeable.

There's been a number of ups and downs over the last few weeks, so to get some feel good factor, one day last week I headed off to my favourite shop in Braintree for a couple of hours of retail therapy.  I had missed the big sales but after much searching of the racks, found a nice red dress and a pair of shoes to go with a dress I bought last year but never wore.  I also bought a couple of bras in another shop with lots of very generous advice and assistance from one of the shop staff.

Yet, in this expedition and previous outings this year, there has been something missing.  I initially thought that I wasn't finding anything I liked when wandering around the shops.  The couple of occasions I've been out dressed felt just normal.  Nothing more.  There has been no buzz, no thrill.  It hasn't felt special.  There is a deep want and need to dress and get out but if there's no buzz as the reward, then I may as well not put the effort in.  There is an element missing.  The 'unknown'.  The only way I can describe it is  that I think I have lost the passion.  The love of the thrill.

Whether this is a temporary loss or if it's a part of the mental recovery, I do not know.  It doesn't just affect the girl side either as there are a few other aspects of my life now that don't give me the buzz that I had before.  Maybe, as a good friend of mine told me, this could be the start of a whole new me  and I know need to find out who this new me is.

Now that's a scary thought.

2013. Featuring the Pink Monolith.

Have you read the book or watched the film 2001 - A Space Odyssey?  I won't relate the storyline as it's a little complex.  The story (in my opinion the film is better that the book) features a black monolith that was a stargate or portal to other existences, worlds or universes.

Until I get enough energy and drive to tidy up my rooms then to be able to unload my girl kit from it, the large pink suitcase resides in my garage.  It too is like the 2001 black monolith.  A symbol of a gateway to another world.  A world of glamour and fabulousness, of good friends and late nights.

The Pink Monolith Calls

I have now returned home to Essex.  Well, it's not quite true as I don't consider Essex my home, as I never really felt at home in Essex.  It's more of a stopping point in my life's journey.  I don't know whether I'll ever find a place I could call home.

It's been quite tough being back.  I was away for nearly every weekend from the end of February until I tumbled so the place is a mess.  I just about kept up with the essential washing, cleaning and paperwork but everything else had to be left.  The Lake District trip was the final sojourn before being back up there for a two day mountain event and the interim period was going to be my sort everything out time.  So much for future planning.  There's a lot to do and I find myself tiring quite quickly at the moment.  I know it will come together for me in time.  I'm not back at work yet, although working from home is suiting me well.

The past week or so has been quite interesting in that it has highlighted some mental issues I didn't realise I had.  It seems that for a few 'structures' (for want of a better word), I have lost the connection between them. I first noticed this when I was driving back from Heathrow, to see if I was OK for long distance driving.  Although I know the M4 motorway quite well, I could not recall the order of a number of junctions.  I knew which junctions were which but could not recall which junction we were going to come across next.  Once I passed the junctions all was OK.  Also this week, I was sorting out bank statements and could not remember what month came after July.  The August statement was in front of me, but I had to check on a calendar to work it out.  After sorting them out, I had no problem.  It's as if some connections have been temporary disconnected in my head.

I'm not too worried.  I was in London on Friday for my fifth laser treatment on the beard area.  An eight month spacing isn't the recommended interval but I had no choice!  It was very good of them to increase the period in which I had to use the sessions.  It went well.  I used some Emla cream around the goatee area this time too as well as the painkiller tablets I normally take beforehand.  It seemed to work.  I have quite a high pain threshold and only had to ask for a break twice because I was tensing up.  After that I had a wander through London.  I know the city reasonably well but there were a number of times I questioned myself why I was walking down a street because I did not remember what street was next.  I knew where I was going, it was that disconnection problem again.  It'll be interesting to see what happens on my next trip to the city.

I've made contact with a counsellor now.  I've just sent an email because it was easier for me to construct what I wanted to cover rather than the initial contact by phone.  My brain is still a confused jumble when considering at getting my life back together although it's a better now that there are a number of things I can sit and concentrate on. I'd like to bring up the gender aspects of my life.  Don't know if there's any subconscious trauma bubbling about in my head, but it would be a good thing to probe and ask questions to see if there is.  Since I've been back in Essex, I have had a number off good friends say how lucky I am to have come through this fall intact.  Now although it didn't affect me before, this statement now makes me uncomfortable when I hear it.  Similar to a feeling of paranoia.

In other news, the year started well when I won £20 of voucher in my local clothes shop.  I get on with the owner quite well so I thought that she had arranged the win for my return back home.  It seems not and it was just luck that my name was picked out of the hat at this time!  Another shopping spree there beckons and I'm hoping to do it in Tanya mode.

And finally…. (I'm getting to sound like Sir Trev McDoughnut now) the 'Our Different Journey' website is now up, running and is being populated with personal stories of the experiences of our lives from the viewpoint of being transgendered.  Crumbs that sounds long-winded.  Best for you to check the site out yourself  - Our Different Journey.

Where is my diatribe, you ask?  Well, err, the dog ate it.  Damn, that won't work as I don't have a dog…  I have written a story.  In fact, I have written a few.  For some reason, I am just not happy with what I've written.  I don't know if it's because I'm constructing a frame around my response from the question posed, albeit a very open question.  Or whether it's because I'm not someone who dwells too much on the past and doesn't particularly reference events that much.  I will publish a post, and most likely will still not be fully happy with it.  Watch this space.

The Restarting of Life

It's been a while.  I thought it was about time an update was posted about how things have gone, where I am and what the future holds.

The neck recovery has been progressing.  Slowly.  This hasn't been helped that there had been a mix-up with arranging the physiotherapy that delayed the rehab process by a few weeks.  Some days can be quite busy now.  A doctor's appointment first thing, then over to the physio for some jumping around and then over to the gym for an upper body session. The physio doesn't give me a 'hands-on' treatment.  He gets me to bounce on a trampette, walking and running on a treadmill, balancing on wobble boards and jumping then hopping over hurdles.  As I also walk to and from each appointment / session, it's can be quite a physically tough day!  The idea for the bouncing and running about is to condition the neck, shoulder and back muscles to take the impacts and jolts from everyday life.  Especially when travelling by road in a car or bus.

It has also been a busy time travelling around the country too.  I arranged a trip back to Essex for a day to sort out the enormous pile of post (OK most of it was junk mail).  I managed to catch up with quite a few people.  It was tiring but the trip was rounded up very nicely by meeting the lovely Sue Richmond for lunch.  All be it, I had to be in boy mode.  Although I did get to spend a little time with my nails painted chocolate.  The nicer colours were with my girl stuff, held in a suitcase by Carlisle police!

Talking of Carlisle.  I wanted to take a trip back up north to collect my fell shoes and the suitcase from the police and also to thank the people who helped and supported my family and myself in my time of need.  I really wanted to do the trip well before the Christmas rush so as soon as I thought I was fit enough for the trip, we were off.

We visited Newcastle first.  After collecting my fell shoes and visiting the hospital to say thanks to the nursing staff, we had some time to explore the city.  Having been there for a few weeks already, my parents were quite familiar with the place, but for me, I only had a very brief look around.  I really like the area and the people are fantastic.  I'm already considering another trip up there next year.

We then travelled across the country to Carlisle.  This was the part I was most worried about.  Having a large pink suitcase full of my girl kit in the back of the camper was quite bothersome.  I considered just telling my parents what was in the case and what I was up to the Friday before I fell, but I knew that for many reasons I shouldn't.  My parents are both quite inquisitive and as I couldn't lock the case because I couldn't find the other zip, I was concerned that one of them may unzip the case to look inside.  Once home, I did manage to find the other 'half' of the zip hiding in the hinge to put a padlock on it.

We pitched up on a quiet campsite just outside Keswick to use as a base for the northern part of the Lakes.  A visit to the Mountain Rescue Team and later to the Air Ambulance left me emotionally exhausted.  It was rewarding and enlightening. I felt a sense of closure.  Yet because I had no recollection of the tumble itself, the stories and talk of my rescue sounded like they were talking about someone else.  I must make a big mention of the work of the Mountain Rescue Team.  We briefly visited the area where I fell and how those guys managed to carry me on a stretcher out of that cove, I don't know.  The path in places was only about six inches wide and traversed a loose scree slope.

The rest of the week was spent in the southern area of the Lakes, catching up with friends and for the first time in a while, relaxing.  OK, relaxing for me doesn't mean doing nothing much except reading, eating and drinking.  I walked around the area quite a bit, found a long flight of steps that I could run up without causing too much impact on the neck and even managed a walk up the local big hill.

It was a very hard trip, both mentally and physically and didn't feel like a break at all.  Even after arriving home, it took me a few days to get over it.  And then after I began to feel back to normal, I was off to Essex again for an important meeting at work! It was good to 'break the ice' as it were and see a number of people there before a possible return to work in the New Year.

Which brings me to a realisation that my head is comfortably in the space of getting the body better and onto fitness.  Now this is not a bad thing, but it does indicate a single mindedness of returning to sport and getting back onto the hills.  Thus I'm finding current activities that have a large physical element to them, easier to focus on.  I have no problem with getting down the gym; ascending the steps of the hill, I found it hard to walk at times because it was easier to run.  Even driving has been no problem.  Driving my parents' car with the auto gearbox, I was left foot braking without due thought.  Driving my manual gearbox car to get to the MOT the next day, was again second nature.

Mental activities are another matter.  I still find myself crying at times.  Usually when out walking alone and being quite relaxed.  I still find concentrating on some tasks difficult, although it is getting better.  Also I'm finding that my personal space is much larger than it used to be.  I noticed that I stand back a little further when in conversation with people and close greetings like hugging and kissing can be quite uncomfortable.  I can find that I feel quite antagonistic at times and unable to control quick snaps of aggression.  This is not a major problem, just something I've picked up on compared to how I was before the fall.  Most likely, everyone around me may not have noticed these subtle changes, but I have.  All this could be why I feel apprehensive generally.  My logical thinking says that all this will resolve itself as I get back into normal life again.  Working, running, getting the fitness back, getting out with friends, living.  It could also because I'm so used to having endorphins flooding my body from the regular fitness sessions, my brain has been conditioned.  I hope it resolves in time, but I will be investigating some course of counselling when I'm back in Essex to calm my head with the questions that have been bouncing around it since June and maybe explore the gender side too.

This Friday was Nottingham Invasion.  I'm proud to have been there for the inaugural event, but it's such a shame I've had to miss the first anniversary event this time.

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and here's to a fabulous, shiny New Year!

No longer angelic...

So just over fifteen weeks after breaking my neck, the sheepskin vest, the scaffolding and the Halo have now been removed and I am now wearing a hard collar for the next four weeks.

It didn't come off without a fight.  The scaffolding came off OK, the straps holding the vest together took a bit of work to undo by the nurse.  After a few X-ray checks, the Halo pins were unscrewed and the Halo literally yanked off!  It was very painful but at least it was brief.  The pins themselves looked quite scary.  Think of a headless bolt with the other end shaped into a sharp spike!  I was told that these Halo vest cost about £3000 and they are thrown away after just the one use as they cannot be recycled!  Little wonder healthcare costs so much.  Thank goodness for the NHS.

So I am now sporting two red, scabbed patches on my forehead.  I look like a cheap version of Hellboy.  At least now I am much cooler when it's warm, I can wear normal sized clothing and t-shirts and I can get in and out of the car without assistance.

The head still hurts and I have been up and down with regards to energy levels and moods this week.  Much the same as I've had over the past two weeks.  However, I now know this is the next step back to life.  Normality.  I think my time in the Halo had more than run it's course and I really needed another assured movement in the recovery to get my mojo back.  So although I've dropped into bit of a dip at the moment, the future can only be bright.

Had to visit the hospital again today.  Twice in a week!  This time my dad was having his bi-annual checkup.  All was OK but I found it very strange being there as a visitor rather than a patient.  Maybe now I have more mobility and have a better view around my environs, the hospital is no longer just a collection of corridors, double doors and waiting rooms.  I didn't realise there was a flower shop on site and one corridor was lined with aerial photographs of the hospital's development since the Second World War!

After the checkup, my mother needed to change a few items in M&S.  My dad left her to it in womenswear and ushered me upstairs to have a wander around the menswear section.  He was after some thick winter shirts but found nothing suitable.  So we just hung around.  It was so boring.  Brown, tan, grey, black, suits, shirts, trousers, shoes.  No colour, no wow, nothing tempting me to buy, buy, buy, no pretty stuff.  I found the cookware section eminently more exciting!

Yet my T-factor is still low.  I still have an interest.  I still appreciate ladies' fashions.  I still have a need to go for a night out when I'm over this malady.  I just find I'm reflecting on my times out as Tanya in a negative way.  As if it's all just a strange, weird dream.  I wonder why I need to dress-up, paint my face and slide into some heels (Yeah right!  More like wrangle my feet into them!) to have a good time out.  I reflect that I'm hiding behind a disguise, then argue against that statement by knowing I am still me, just glammed up.  I present in a different guise but I do not change personality or hide who I am.  I find it exciting and good fun at the time.  Think I need to be patient and wait until normality and independence returns to my life.

In other news, my mother has taken a shine to an iPad, so we may be visiting Bristol next week to purchase one.  As it's Fashion Week there, I may be taking a shine to other pretty items…

Negotiating the Stares

I like move around in public unnoticed.  Just be at one with the world, not interact with anyone or anything.  Just observe, listen, take in the environment.  Absorb it, maybe analyse it, usually enjoy it.  Anonymously as I can.

As you may have read, for the past 12 weeks I have had to wear a Halo vest so that my broken neck is given a chance to repair.  It consists of a two piece hard, thick plastic jacket, lined with sheepskin, to which four metal tubes are attached which then attach to a curved bar that is screwed to my head by threaded pins.  I now have to wear this device for at least another 4 weeks as the main fracture has not repaired.

Obviously I need to go out of the house at times, whether it's to the hospital, do some shopping or just out for a fitness walk.  So to be a little more presentable and to an extent, disguise the framework around my neck and head, I wear an oversized shirt.  But this still can't hide the framework around my head.

So despite wanting to blend into a public world now, I'm standing out.  As a guy!!  I may as well be wandering around in my undies!!

And this scenario has struck me that there are quite a number of similarities with my T-world.  When I'm out in public, dressed as a woman.

You see, although I usually 'get away with it' when trying to blend into the public sphere, I do get spotted.  Sometimes, if I'm not fully of the T-mindset, I'm spotted quite often.  The signs that the spotters show can be quite obvious to me.

The Halo vest I'm currently wearing.
The Halo bit is the black,  curved bar and that's the bit attached to my head!

Wearing this Halo, it's usually the children who stare at me.  And stare.  And stare.  Sometimes to the point that their parents will bring them into line and very occasionally they'll comically trip up over themselves!  Adults spot me, take a second or third glance and that's about it.  Except when they have experienced the same or similar injury or have had a major trauma, adults will approach me and have a chat about the Halo, neck braces or whatever.

Yet conversely when dressed, it's the other way around.  The kids aren't bothered.  Or more likely, they don't notice.  It's the adults who look twice and may stare for a bit.  Obviously as they are adults, they are aware they are staring!!  There's also my awareness of gossip when my back is turned.  Or is that just my paranoia? :-)

What I don't get when dressed is the inquisitive chat.  There's interaction with people naturally, but if I see someone regularly looking at me, maybe trying to work me out, I would rather they approach me and have a chat.  To me, it's quite positive to spread the T message.  Not to specifically sign up new followers as it were, but to dispel pre-conceptions and make people comfortable with us, wherever we are on the T-spectrum.

I have noticed that people see an air of vulnerability when they spot me in the Halo, which I believe leads them to be sympathetic to my current situation.  There's a seriousness about their demeanour to me.  However, I believe I feel more vulnerable when in T-mode and yet there is no sign of sympathy (don't need it anyway) or empathy (which I could do with sometimes) from the general public.  Acceptance, yes.  Sometimes I could do with a little more than acceptance though. :-)

Finally, get something off my chest.  Lots of friends and other people I've met in my broken state have said how brave I am.  I may have been occasionally brave at past competitive events and can be quite tough but with regards to the Halo and my injuries, I am not brave.  Now going out as a bloke dressed as a woman, interacting with the world.  That is what I call brave.  It is the scariest thing I do.

Toon; Up, Doon and Oot...

I am really getting pissed off right now.  I can't get any peace and quiet when I'm inspired to write, think, contemplate.  I'm always getting disturbed.  I feel that I get in the zone.  The time has come.  Then there's a knock on the door, my dad walks in and asks if I want anything.

You see, I having to stay with my parents for a while.   Not entirely wilfully.

Let's rewind a bit.  Back to June 2012.  (This diatribe may be a little long, so I suggest, dear reader, that you may want to grab a cuppa or a tipple of your choice.)

We had been talking about a girly night out in Newcastle for quite a while.  We had heard good things from other girls, Chrystal was from the area and a couple of us (OK may have just been me!) were tempted to go there and dress locally.  That is, as skimpily as possible when the weather is as cold as possible!! :-)

As things happened, the fabulous Jo was heading for impending parenthood which would naturally mean a reduction in T-time.  So as a celebration and a sort of send off, we planned a Friday night out in Newcastle.

Coincidently, some friends had planned a multi day run in the Lake District that weekend and asked if I wanted to join them.  So I had a brilliant long weekend lined up.  Bit of glam to kick it off in the North East and then a few days being wet, mucky and knackered in the North West!!

The prep went quite well.  Had a full body wax on the Wednesday and as I am considering to always present as Tanya in certain arenas, I made the effort to girl-up for the salon.  It was worth it.  I wanted to push the envelope a little more and asked for another thinning out of the brows which meant a slight change of shape too.  It may have been a little more daring but no one noticed at work the next day.

As I had Friday off and intended to travel north in girl mode, I took the opportunity to get the nails done on the Thursday evening.  I couldn't book into my usual salon so had to use another one in the area.  I booked in as him, but I planned to turn up as Tanya if I had time.

I was unable to get out of work early, so by the time I arrived home, the transformation window looked a little tight but I decided to go for it anyway.  Quick shower, blasted the hair with hot air and applied the mantra of less haste, more speed to the straighteners.  Quick face, simple outfit and few twirls, Tanya was ready.  In an hour and 10 minutes.  New record by quite some margin.

The nail appointment went well.  Despite the change in perceived presentation, I was accepted and treated well.  We had a long discussion about what colours as I wanted something which went with any colour outfit.  Eventually we (it was a joint decision!) settled on a light coral pink.  They also had a bargain sale on gel finishes which would last for about three weeks and a discounted colour change if I wanted it.  It was so tempting but there's no way I could wear coloured nails in non-girl mode, especially at work!!  The treatment was way more expensive (nearly twice the price) of my usual salon, so I doubt I'll do a return visit soon.

On my return home, I should have completed the packing for both the boy and girl stuff.  The boy stuff came together very easily but when it came to the girl stuff, nothing happened, despite the need to get stuff done.  From conversation on Facebook, I now know this is called clat.  Thanks to the ever eloquent  Ms Lynn Jones, clat can be defined as "To find a task irksome and/or difficult to complete".  So it's like an unpleasant aspect of faffing.

The next morning, the clat had faded away, so after doing my face, hair and dressing in something comfortable for the journey, I finally packed the case (of all things a large pink case borrowed from a friend's wife).  Car loaded up, I headed north.

Had to stop at Blyth services on the A1 for a comfort break.  I've been to Blyth many times to use the ladies, but on this day the place was packed and because of the warm humid weather, the hair was a mess.  Of course, there was a long queue for the ladies.  Now, I don't mind queuing, but women like to chat and with children about too, I find it a little imposing if I'm brought into a conversation in that arena.  Luckily the queue diminished quite quickly and I was soon back on the road.

By the time I reached Newcastle, the weather was wet (ooh, surprise!!) and the traffic heavy.  I found the hotel easily enough, grabbed (OK, heaved out) the case and entered.  Again, although I had booked in as him, I was presented at Tanya when I turned up.  No questioning, no raised eyebrows, no problem.

After a quick tea and unpacking, I headed off into the city to have a nose about and a stretch of legs.  I was also getting short of my favourite Mac Studio Fix fluid so took the opportunity to pop over to the Mac counter in Fenwicks.  Walking back to the hotel, it started to lightly drizzle.  I could almost feel the straightness leaving the hair as it returned to it's natural, curly self.

Back at the hotel, it was time for getting ready to go out.  Chrystal, Jo and myself were to get some food first before hitting the pubs and clubs.  So I dressed fairly conservatively, intending to pop back down the road for a quick Wonder Woman change later.

We ate at an Italian in Jesmond about 200 yards from my hotel.  Very good food and atmosphere.  After eating, I borrowed Chrystal's dodgy umbrella to protect the coiffure from the rain whilst Chrystal and Jo tottered up the road to a pub.  I changed into my 'Storm-On-A-Dress', touching up the makeup and replacing the sensible ankle boots with a pair of non-sensible heels.  The dress pattern was quite apt as the rain was bucketing down on my return walk.  It was great to watch other girls all done up for a night out, having fun, music blasting out from their houses and then rushing across wet pavements in their heels to get to the waiting taxis.

Chrystal had picked a very nice pub to meet up again.  Jo went to the bar for drinks and came back with two rounds.  Seems that she was offered to push a button on the bar and won another round.  Good start to the night and very difficult to turn down a free round!  Maddy and Gayna had called to tell us they were already living it up in the pink triangle so, drinks downed, we grabbed a taxi and headed off to find them.

From now on this recall is going to get a little vague.  Due to alcohol induced lack of memory at the time.

Before heading off to the Life centre, Jo and Chrystal took the chance to freshen up and like me go for a Wonder Woman moment as their accommodation was very near.  Chrystal made us crack up with laughter as she found herself lost looking for her room in a simple hotel corridor :-).

We caught up with Maddy and Gayna at Rusty's bar.  They were chatting with a small group of girls.  The bar had a Drag-DJ doing her stuff on a high theatrical stage which ended up with a number of people getting up and sing and dancing to the songs.  Very entertaining, not just because of watching the comically bad dancers, but also because of a few fantastically good dancers.  They could not have practiced together but they knew the nuances of the routines.

After Rusty's we wandered across the yard to another bar.  This was quite small and cosy.  Again there was a Drag-DJ who had a drag-a-oke going but we couldn't convince Karaoke Queen, Maddy, to give it a go.  Maybe Newcastle isn't ready for the aural pain yet. :-)

By this time I had drunk enough vodka to not worry about the hair.  Although the rain had stopped when we hit the town, the environs were still wet and the air warm.  From the views in photos and mirrors, the straightening was reverting back to curls.

Chrystal was chatting to a small group about other venues in the area.  I'm so glad she did as in my slightly inebriated state, I was finding it difficult to understand the locals and I didn't know the area at all.  Another totter about in the damp air of the night, we entered a bar.  It was here that I realised there wasn't the number of people about I expected or hoped for.  Think it was because of the heavy rain and that the universities were on their summer break.  Apart from the drag DJs, I don't think I noticed any other T folk outside of our group.  Maybe my T-radar was broke.  Or rain-soaked!

After a few drinks and a bit of dancing, it was announced that there were some discount wristbands available for the Powerhouse club.  Too tempting for a welsh tranny.   Love a bit of discount, me.

I wasn't particularly impressed by the Powerhouse.  Thought it a bit grubby. Both in terms of interior, cost and clientele.  It wasn't run down, just seemed to have been done on the cheap sometime about 20 years ago and not well maintained since.  Seemed jazzy at first glance but disappointing in detail.  The cost despite discount, still was about a fiver and the drinks weren't that cheap either.  Compared to other venues which usually have deals on.  We also seemed to attract quite a bit of drunken attention too.  One ape jumped onto our table, toppled over my bottle and spilled my drink over my dress!!  OK, we get attention sometimes but this seemed to be a bit more in-your-face in my view.  Balancing this we did meet some great people there too.

The club closed at four so we were bundled out into the street to a line of awaiting taxis.  As the rest of the gang were staying nearby, I said my goodbyes and found my chauffeur to Jesmond.

In all, a cracking night out.  Great send off for Jo, on her merry way to parenthood...... :-)

After stripping off the happy warpaint, I think I hit the pillow about 5.  Not bad going.  Following a very brief sleep, I was back up and at'em again at 8:30!.  Quick re-touch of hair and a whizz around with pencils and mascara (no foundation except a dust of powder!!), then down for breakfast.  The room was very busy but no-one paid any attention to me except for a couple of girls out of a group on the central table.  I think they were on a hen weekend.  They just smiled on eye contact.  I smiled back.

Breakfast done, it was back upstairs to bed to catchup on much needed sleep.  ZZZZzzzzzz...

Of course, I didn't want to waste all day in bed.  The sun was out and I still hadn't reached into Newcastle yet.  After a few hours, I was up again, showered and for the fourth day in a row, the hair was blown dry and straightened.  Although it is a lot of work to get the hair styled and usually takes about 40 to 50 minutes of work, I was quite enjoying the effort (or should I say faff) and it gave me a good insight about what it would be like if I wanted to present as Tanya over a considerable time.

Suitably dressed, I headed out of the hotel about 1pm and wandered into town.  The shopping area was very busy and for some reason I didn't feel comfortable there.  I headed down to the Quayside as one place I promised myself to visit was the Baltic centre.  I hadn't realised there was such a long downhill walk to the Quayside.  And in heels with battered feet from the night before, it would have been a good candidate for a challenge in Brucie's 'You Bet'!  Also the walk down showed that there are quite a number of bars, clubs and restaurants around that area.

Reaching the river, I was taking in the view of the bridges when I heard a call from behind.  I turned, and noticed a lady beckoning me over to a minibus full of people.  It seemed that they were lost and needed to get to Newcastle University.  I had a map of the city in my bag and so directed them on their way.  It took some time to help them and I was pleasantly surprised that no-one raised an eyebrow.

I liked the Quayside.  They even had a beach with palm trees!!  OK, the 'beach' was just a sand pit, but in the sun, it looked great.  There were great views of the Tyne bridges and a short, enjoyable walk over the Spectacle bridge.  There were number of bars and coffee shops about too, but I wasn't thirsty or needing caffeine.  The only disappointing aspect was the Baltic.  There was one installation at the bottom, but the other two galleries were still being setup.  It was a pity they hadn't put up a notice in the entrance as I only found out when I went up to the galleries.

I was beginning to feel very weary again so headed back to the hotel.  I grabbed some food to eat for later as although I wasn't feeling hungry, I hadn't eaten since breakfast.  After a quick wash, I hit the bed.

The following day I was going to be heading over the northern Pennines to the Lake District, so when I awoke that morning, it was back to boy mode.  Remnants of eye makeup removed and finger nail varnish lifted, time for yet another shower to wash the girl away and let the hair return to it's natural curly self.  I took my usual breakfast table in the corner looking out over the room.  No-one noticed the change except a couple of the girls who were sitting on the central table the previous morning, took a second or even third glance at me as they walked through to the other room.  Breakfast finished, I packed the car and returned to pay.  The lady owner was again very pleasant and asked if I enjoyed the stay and had a good night out.  She just accepted who I was despite that I was now in boy mode.  Highly recommended for Newcastle accommodation.

Finished your cuppa yet?  May be time to have a quick break and go and get another.  Although not far to read now and it gets more dramatic!!

Had a great drive across to the western side of the country.  I hadn't visited that area of the country before.  Bleak, but also beautiful.

Arrived in the central Lakes.  I could almost call it my second home now.  First job was to get some food and run a few errands.  Once done I changed and went out for a run over my favourite hill for a couple of hours.  It was great to get out on the fells again.  Especially the ones I know so well and love so much.  Back at the car I cleaned up and changed before heading off to Keswick to meet my friends.

The next morning we started our run.  I can't remember why now but I wasn't feeling fully fit.  I think I had a twingy muscle or something.  So I elected to do parts of the route but not the whole route and then meet up with the others at different stages along the way.

We left early on the Monday morning to tackle the first three of the many Wainwright peaks for that day.

Getting to the top of the last peak, there was quite a heavy dew which made the ground quite wet.  The group leader decided to take the more direct route off the top, which I wasn't comfortable with as the descent is known to be tricky in the wet.  However, the rest of the group were happy so we started the descent.  The path down was indeed very tricky.  At some point we came off path, but as we are all very experienced in the mountains, it wasn't a big deal.  We were not far from the end of the valley and getting on to the road anyway.

The last thing I remember was looking at different options in order to jump over a stream.  It seems that a little further on, I fell about 60ft down a bouldered scree slope.  The mountain rescue team were called out and I was anaesthetised and air-lifted to hospital.

I awoke sometime on the following Wednesday.  I cannot remember anything about the fall itself.  I felt tired and confused but otherwise OK.  Then I realised that my lower left leg was in plaster and I had some framework around my head so I couldn't move my neck.  I then knew that I had suffered some physical injuries.  When the nurse later told me I was in Newcastle hospital, I jokingly remarked to myself that it must have been a cracking night out on Friday to end up back in Newcastle hospital!  Then I knew my mind was OK too!!

Apart from the obvious bruises, cuts and stitches, I had broken a vertebra in my neck, had fractured back vertebra, fractured skull and a broken foot.  I was lucky.  But because I am reasonably fit, I think I bounced well…

My car had been impounded by the Cumbrian police.  One of the nurses approached me and asked if we could talk in confidence.  I had only recently left intensive care and I was still a bit out of the world from the drugs that the medics had given me over the last 36 hours and the trauma itself.  A sergeant had checked my car out and had noted my girl kit and checked my iPad as part of the usual police investigation.  The nurse explained that as my parents were due to see me in hospital and to avoid any unnecessary potential embarrassment, the sergeant was going to keep hold of my girl case when the rest of my belongings including my car were released to my parents.  Also he had removed some obvious photos from my iPad (I had the originals on my computer).  The nurse also removed the nail polish from my toes.  Well, apart from a very small strip on one of my big toes!

Both the Cumbrian police and the nursing staff in Newcastle have been fantastic with regard to my T-side.

After 3 weeks in Newcastle hospital, I was transferred to Taunton hospital, before being discharged into my parent's care.

So that's where I am now.  Been here for about six weeks, and have a couple of weeks to go before the Halo system which holds my shoulders, neck and head together can be removed.  My parent's have been great, but as an independent person, who enjoys their freedom, it has been very frustrating for me too.

So where does this leave me with regard to Tanya?

Well, compared to previous spells when I've lost the mojo, this is an unenforced long break in the T-time.  Something which I have not experienced before.  Yes, there have been numerous occasions when normal life has stood in the way, but I have usually found some small window of opportunity to get a fix, however minor.

My body and mind has experienced major trauma.  During my time in the hospital, my affinity for my T-side was zero.  I still had the history of a great weekend in Newcastle, but my feelings were blank.  Wearing this Halo device, I was unable to see anything or feel anything of the girl.  Especially over the time spent there, considering I was unable to wash myself fully, shaving was difficult and at hospital, I could not wash my hair.

I am almost getting back to reality.  The cast is off my foot.  I am able to walk properly now.  The scars on my legs and head are healing.  I still have the Halo on while my neck vertebra heals.  I still don't have any want to get glammed up.  It just doesn't seem to be something I have any deep desire to do.  Tanya isn't me.  Tanya was someone else.  Like a very distant dream.  However, I miss the craic.  I miss the occasion.  I miss having a fabulous night stumbling through until silly o'clock in the early hours.  I miss my friends, old, current and new ones yet to meet.

Although the T-force is not great in me (<Yoda mode> or; in me, not great is the T-force </Ym>), I still get the occasional bout of Pink Pillows.  I have also noticed I do get very emotional since the fall.  The Olympics had me in tears everytime a medallist cried on the podium.  Now with the Paralympics on the floodgates will be opening again.

The other influence in which the girl side feels like a dream is that I lost my phone and camera in the fall.  Apart from not being able to get my old texts, I am not too worried about the phone.  However, because the camera had photos from the girly weekend and from the Lake District run, up to the point I fell, I do feel there is part of my life missing which some of the images on the camera can fill in.  I am thinking about going back to search for it when I'm healthy again, but I doubt whether I'll find it again.

Until the Halo comes off and the rehab of the neck begins, I am not expecting anything of my girl self.  It may come back as it was before.  It may not.  I would normally keep up a base level of preparation ready for the transformation.  I feel that it is part of me now to maintain a ready standard.  Looking after my skin;regular waxing of legs, chest, eyebrows and back; regular visits to the hairdressers to maintain the style and top-up the colour; regularly wearing studs to keep the ear piercings open.  I have not been able to do this for nearly three months.  Although I have checked that the piercings are still open :-)

One of my first intentions when returning home to Essex will be to get a full body wax, maybe a good facial and have the hair done.  As it's likely I'll have to work at home for a short time too, I may try and fit in some girl time to see how I feel.

There are other thought's bumping through my mind about where I am with this.  I'll have to see how things go and post an update in the future once the thoughts come into some semblance.

One very amusing anecdote was that when, Deb, one of my running friends, who knows about my glam side, heard about my fall, sent me a text hoping that I hadn't slipped over my kitten heels on the Friday night!!  When she told me about the text, I then remembered that a red scar on my unbroken right foot didn't come from the fall, but from a strap on one of my heels rubbing on the Friday night! :-)

I have to apologise for the length of this blog entry.  It's taken me over two months to write due to the recuperation, time spent in hospital and getting my life back together.  It has also been very therapeutic.  Writing numerous emails to friends, colleagues and acquaintances about what happened and my situation regarding the tumble was one thing.  This has been the first time I could write fully about my time as Tanya that weekend.  It now feels that I can close this chapter and move on.

Thank you for reading.

Pink Pillows and the Lure of Baywatch

Don't know why, but something has kicked of a period of the Pink Pillows.  I think it started to build up on Saturday, ramped up during Sunday afternoon, hitting a crescendo that night; keeping the sleep fairy away so making me tired and grumpy at work Monday morning.  Even picking up the iPad with the intention of brain dumping or just making some notes didn't help.

Even now, Tuesday evening, it's still tormenting me.  Last night I just had to don a beautiful sky blue maxi dress to suppress some of the comfortable beating.  It's a crazy mentality.  My PP moments are so frustrating, so distracting and so tormenting.  And yet it's a wonderful, comfortable place to be.

I have an hair appointment tomorrow night, so I hope to get a T-fix post-do. Not sure what I'll do, but it would be nice to get out.  The laser treatment is still affecting my skin so a trip out would most likely be in the diminishing light.

Anyway, I'm up north again next weekend, in Newcastle.  The ever wonderful Jo is soon to enter the domain of parenthood and we are hoping to send her off in style :-).

In other news.  Well it's not really news, but the phrase sounds good anyway.

A few of my work colleagues regularly head off for a boozy weekend in Butlins.  It's not something which appeals to me.   I like the guys, but having seen them under the influence, I think I would feel uncomfortable with them on a night out.

For the next trip, they are going out dressed as Baywatch lifeguards.  One of the group has had to drop out due to work, so the 'perpetrator' (for want of a better word) asked me if I wanted to come along.  Then he said "We need a Pamela Anderson".  Well, in my current state of PPness, I so dearly want to go as Pam, but I know that would mean that my little hobby would be exposed.  How can I go out dressed as a girl, but making a bad enough job to hide my T-side.  I just cannot do it!  I need to present as perfectly as I can so I would also need to take my makeup kit, hair stuff, jewellery, etc.  Best to politely refuse.  :-)

Unforgettable Summer

I like music.  A lot.  But I'm not geeky about it.  I like what I like, however, usually I don't know what the music being played is called.  If you see what mean.  So my taste is pretty eclectic.  Pop, rock, soul, jazz, opera, classic, even church organ music.

Having had my formative music style moulded by the sounds of the late 70's / 80's, I guess it comes as no surprise that I have a bit of a soft spot for electronic and disco music.  There are a few songs which really tug at my heart and screws up the pit of my stomach.

One of these songs is 'I Feel Love' by Donna Summer.  I have a need to listen to it whenever it is played on the radio or on the iPod.  It's that perfect blend of the mellifluous voice matched to music which carries me away into Cloud Nine.

It was this song which caught me at a sensitive moment after my first tranny night out in Leeds last August.  Driving down the A1, it was raining very hard.  Concentrating on the driving and the light traffic, my sub-conscience mind was still reflecting on the previous two wonderful days and the fabulous night before.  Feeling emotional but very happy.  The radio was on as usual, but I cannot remember now what show was playing.

Until....

That first second caught my ear.  The volume was immediately turned up a few notches.  Part of me was taken away into a dreamy ether.  The rain and spray giving a comfortable anonymous element to the scene.  Then the waterworks started.  I'm not one for welling up, but this time the tears were streaming down my cheeks at the same rate as the rain drops dancing off the door mirrors.

When the song finished, I returned to reality, thinking I'd better stop somewhere to sort myself out and fix my face.

Rest in peace, Donna Summer.  You may not be still with us but your music will always have a special effect on me.

Two Sides of a Two Pound Coin

Over the past year or so, I have put a lot more effort into how I present as Tanya in public.  I believe I have come a long way with my appearance, confidence and how I interact with the world in general.  As I have said before, I don't like the word 'pass'.  I just see myself blending into the environment.  Just another woman, enjoying life.

This has all come from just getting out there, head up, tits out and doing it.  Sometimes, I find myself in a situation where I don't feel confident with who I am and the environ I am in.  If I can, I call it a day and get out of there.  There's always another day.  Another opportunity.

And yet.  There are times when I've done the prep.  Hair, makeup and dress are good.  Enhancing the female features.  Hiding the male parts (careful!!).  Then I notice the double takes.  A couple whispering.  A child pointing,  querying her mother.  I check my look in the mirror of a store.  Can't see anything amiss.  Makeup OK.  Outfit still in shape.  But there must be something about me which says I'm not a genetic female.  I'm sure it is some element of my body language.  My stance.  Unless I filmed myself with a video camera in that arena, there would be no way I could tell.

WHY!?!?

There are many, many other times that I can just 'be'.  No questioning.  No double takes.  No pointing.  No 'Oi, Mate!' calls.  Just subtle nods and smiles with women who are also enjoying the world I'm sharing with them.

There does seem to be an equilibrium between the two states.  The comfort of being and blending into the world is exactly the opposite to the discomfort of feeling that there is a large arrow above my head, with 'Tranny' in large, red, flashing letters.

So what has brought these thoughts on, you may ask?  Well, I experienced both sides of the comfort line these past two days in Leeds for LFF.   I had Friday off so after getting ready in the hotel, I set off to get breakfast and wander around the shops as Tanya.  I generally blended in and quite enjoyed my wander round.  But there were a number of moments that I was well aware that I was clocked.  Nothing said.  No pointing.  Just a general awareness of eyes lingering a little too long and a few double takes.  I have a feeling it may have been that I was a little underdressed for the weather.  Left my winter coat at home, you see.

Now the other side of the coin.  The glory.  Out with the girls in the evening, we moved from the Viaduct across the road to the Loft.  T-girls have free entry to the club.  Everyone else pays two pounds.  Maddy and Tiff walked passed the 'door supervisors' OK.  Mrs Tiff, in front of me, paid the charge.  Then me.  "Two pounds, please" said the lady door supervisor.  I shook my head and replied with a confused no.  She repeated "Two pounds".  Now being a bit of a tight-wad and not wanting to dig out my purse and retrieve two gold nuggets from it, I said in my most manly voice, "I'M A GUY!".  With that she took my hand, smiled, told me I looked fabulous and let me pass.  I was on Cloud Nine for the rest of the night! :-)

Before I get carried away though, Maddy brought me back down to earth with a bump.  In the early hours, we were packed into the New Penny.  Maddy was talking to a tall, dark girl near me.  I heard my name mentioned and the girl greeted me before moving off.  I asked Maddy what they were talking about.  Maddy said the girl wanted to know if I was a woman or TS.  Maddy told her, "Goblin".  :-)

....you have an ology!

Been a bit slack on blogging recently.  Not so much for a want of writing.  As you may have read in the previous posts, I've gone through some ups and downs recently, so the mood to step across the transline and to blog about it has been quiet.

However, I purchased an iPad a couple of weeks ago and have found myself writing more on that.  It has been quite a boon in that it has been handy just to pick it up and note a few thoughts of stuff going through my head at the time.  Thus it has also been quite therapeutic too, which is something I was aware of but hadn't expected to have such a positive effect.  By that I mean, there are a number of times when I'm unable to sleep so I get up, kick the computer into action and note down my thoughts.  After braindumping, I can sleep soundly again.  However, the computer is a bit of a distraction physically sitting in front of it, so I sometimes find I'm surfing around the web for another 20 minutes afterwards!

With the new toy, I pick it up, braindump the jumping beans into it and just close it again. :-)

Anyway, I'm wittering on a bit.  The point is, I have two new blog entries to post, but they are not exactly contemporary, So I have back-dated them to give a reference point.  Enjoy…..

PS  Another apology for the changing font size.  Seems to be some disparity between my text editors and this blogger business.  I'll see if I can tidy it up... :-)

Luckily, I actually remembered to wear some clothes......

Some of my first public outings as Tanya was to my regular waxing session.  I think it was where I built up most of my confidence to express the femme side and learn to develop the blending into public sphere.  The girls in the salon have been fantastic and very complimentary.  I guess it's because I've given them quite a lot of business over the past few years!

Due to times when I CBA'd (couldn't be arsed!) or didn't have the time to dress, it has been quite a few months since Tanya turned up at the salon.  So on Wednesday as I had the time and still had resemblances of a T-mindset, I made the effort, spend loads of time getting the hair right (although only took 10mins longer than normal) and went as Tanya.  The great thing is I don't get treated any different.  Although more time does seem to get taken on the eyebrows as her though.... :-)  All went well.  We both had to get used to the new waxes and waxing station (was a bit too hot at times) and we had a good chat.  After finishing, I just tidied up the makeup (after shoving my face into the pillow for the back and neck wax) and was just about to leave when I remembered about my spectacles.  They were still on the couch.  Ah, well!

The original plan post-waxing was to pay a visit to Lakeside, but as my order from Next had arrived early and I was wearing the ordered dress and that it was now 8pm, I decided not to bother and have a wander around the clothes section of the big Tescos nearby.  The traffic was horrendous due to the ongoing roadworks (needed for the Olympics, but I doubt if they'll be finished by then) so I decided to divert and pop over to my local Sainsbugs, get some fuel for the weekend and check out the new Gok range.

Fuel first.  Filled up.  New dress is very nice but slightly short for this chilled temperature.  Went to pay and somehow got a bit flustered digging out the purse.  Once the financial electrons were on their way, I sorted myself out and walked back to the car.  Only then did I find that I could not locate my car keys.  Came back to the cashier and had to ask her if she'd seen my keys. Strangely they had found their way behind a Sport Relief charity box.  How the hell they wandered around there, heaven knows.

Back in the car, around to the shop.  A thought occurs to me.  How much is in Tanya's account? Checked the cashpoint, ¬£50 overdrawn.  Oops.  No shopping for me then.  Even if I had a wander around, I'd be too tempted to spend something!

OK, back home it is.  Driving through a small village, I see two runners coming the other was, crossing a junction on the left.  However, just as I near them, they realise they are on the wrong side of the safety fence and run into the road.  My motorcycle riding sixth sense working alongside the road running experience had cut in, so I had already compensated for their faux-pas.  It was only when I made the manoeuvre, I noticed that both the running girls were club mates of mine and I know them both very well.  So the obvious consideration occurred to me.  What if an accident had happened and one of them sustained an injury?  Now, I am very aware of the 'risks' I undertake when going out in my local area as Tanya, and I am comfortable with myself that if I met a friend who knows 'him' but is not aware of her, I can confidently deal with the consequences.  However, if I had hit one of the girls (the fault factor doesn't come into this), then news of how I would be presented at the incident would be rippling through not just the running club. but at the gym, work, my employers and other friends.  Just because of the series of connections.

If it happens, it happens.  I am not going to worry or be paranoid about it.  There's far bigger things in life to worry about at the moment.

So, the moral.  Sometimes, I'm just to dangerous to be let into public!!

Once you pop, you cannot stop....

Had a want on last Thursday.  Don't know really know why.  Although I think it may be down to not getting my mind in the right space again.  I'm getting ahead of myself so let's rewind a bit.

My running hasn't been going that great recently.  I have a big race at the end of the month and needed to find something to give me a bit of mojo, something to get my taste for the big hills back.  So I arranged to get a couple of days hill training which also meant that a trip to Nottingham Chameleons was also on the cards.  With deference to the now regular Invasion, this Thursday evening out has now become known as the Skirmish!

I was a bit concerned that I would get held up by traffic despite leaving work at the normal time and get flustered again.  But I had an easy journey up and arrived at the New Gables in plenty of time.  Quick shower, and then get going on the hair.  This was the first time I was going to style the hair since the January Invasion, so I was quite apprehensive and about how it would come out.  The end result was OK, but way too frizzy for my perfect image.  Simple makeup (the darker hairs from the laser still showed slightly) and a sweater dress and off I went.  The peep-hole shoes were new so they smarted a bit.  I was still aware that my mindset still wasn't quite right, but I felt OK and confident.

It was great meeting up with the Notts gang again.  Then later to see Lynn and Maddy maul 'Dead Ringer for Love' which became 'Total Minger' at time was worth the trip up alone.  Thursday night karaoke at the New Foresters is definitely a good night out.

The next couple of days in the Peak District didn't quite go as planned.  Turned over on my ankle 8 miles into a long run on Friday scuppered the training but then had a very enjoyable 15 mile fast walk on Saturday before the return home.

So coming back to this Thursday gone.  I was going to be working from home on Friday as I wanted to try and get a doctors appointment.  Also I was expecting the delivery on the new iPad that day too.  After the frizziness of the hair the week before I decided to get a bit of practice in.  I must get an entry written about my hair and how I feel about it sometime.  This time I worked out a strategy of parting and blow-drying to make sure it was smoother. It needs dedicated time and patience but if I can get in enough practice, I'm sure that it'll make a big difference to how I feel about my trans side.  The styling went very well this time.  I managed to get it well straightened with little frizz, so that there was a nice swing to the front when moving. The only problem I had was applying the hairspray.  I applied it a bit heavy in places despite some tricks from the hairdresser.  I'll need to ask him again about it.

Didn't dress then as I didn't feel like it.  The next day though, after waking early, logging on the the company's intranet and checking the systems, I opened the door to the wardrobe of glam and transformed.  So, in a way I was at work, dressed.  All day.  And felt good.  Nothing outstanding, just normal.  Even when the iPad was delivered, no problem.  I couldn't get a doc's appointment that day, so didn't have to de-femme.

The big moment came the next morning.  I usually do my weekly shop early on Saturday morning so it's just a case of a quick wash and off I go.  This Saturday though, I had a quick shave (now the positive effects of the laser) then a quick wash and looked at my hair.  It looked fabby and very girly. I tried a couple of caps to tuck it away, but head ensemble just didn't look right.  So I thought it'll be easier to go in girl mode.  On the surface, this may seem insignificant.  However, the same supermarket staff and customers are there every Saturday morning, so the faces are well known and it's not unusual to be greeted and maybe conduct some small talk.  So it takes courage to go as Tanya because people know of him.  OK, all the staff and customers are effectively strangers but thoughts are pushed to the front of the mind about what people may say.

As I was going to be out running a couple of hours later, I took another brave decision.  Not to wear foundation.  I usually try to look as natural as possible, just covering up remnants of beard shadow and skin blemishes.  So only stippled some powder over the facial skin, used a kohl pencil to line the eyes and define the brows a little and applied a bit of lippy.  That's it.  Clothes-wise, just sweater dress, leggings and boots.

So off I popped to Sainsbugs.  All was, frankly, normal.  I even had to ask for help a couple of times, especially when the eggs weren't being picked up on the self-service till.  I wasn't avoiding the cashiers.  There were queues there, whereas the self-service area was empty.  The point is that I felt good.  My head was in the right space.  I was just a normal woman doing normal morning food shopping.

And that was it really.  Nothing especially exciting but I commonly find with this T-ness that it's the everyday things which bring those exalted moments of achievement.  Yes, the social side and nights out are special, but doing a bit of morning shopping with no-one turning a hair about the bloke in a dress is something to be cherished.

T and Cake

It's like your favourite cake.  You've been eating it for years and enjoyed every last crumb.  It's not eaten every night or even every week.  Just now and again when you want to feel a bit special.  You know it's a bit naughty, lots of yummy goodness that may not suit the body, but it certainly works well to please the mind.  It's so special that you save a few in the larder for when you next fancy a nibble.

Then one day, you open the cake larder to have a treat.  Nothing.  Yes, there's cake but there's no want.  You don't feel sick or greedy or hungry or desire.  Just ambivalent.  It could be just a piece of tarmac.  The only person interested in it would be a mastic asphalt spreader.

It's a rubbish analogy, but I think it somewhat conveys how I feel about dressing at the moment.  I have my third laser hair treatment appointment tomorrow.  I thought yesterday it would be a good opportunity to go into London as Tanya, have the treatment, then have a wander round town.  I know Sue Richmond has organised a lunch tomorrow in the city, but the appointment clashes, and I also feel I need to find the connection with theT-side again solo.  It's the environment I know best.

So after the gym tonight before getting a shower, I opened the wardrobe to get the hair dryer and straighteners out, found the hair dryer and……  closed the doors again.  Didn't want to do it.  There was something about holding the hair dryer which didn't click with the head.  So that's that….

I felt the same after having the hair done this week.  The hairdresser worked his magic, even said he weaved the colour like he had never weaved colour before.  The finished style and colour looked fantastic.  Yet, I didn't feel the vibe.  It was straightened, coloured hair, styled into an inverted bob, and that was it.  Ambivalence.  I had a hope of getting out for a Lakeside shopping trip.  I just wasn't in the mood and as it was 7:30 when I left (I arrived at 5pm!) time was going to be tight anyway.  I even had thoughts of working from home the next day to make the most of it, but felt quite happy to literally wash the T out of my hair the next morning.

The waxing session last week actually went quite well.  The girl who I normally see was on holiday so the owner was helping out with assistance from the manager and we just had such a laugh.  The owner is quite inexperienced so needed some hand-holding and words of confidence to do the wax-on / rip-off actions.  At one moment, I had to have a couple of minutes to recompose myself, I was laughing so much.  I wouldn't have thought ripping out body hair was so much fun!!

Also had mixed feelings when viewing the photos and reading the reports and comments from the Nottingham Invasion last week.  I so missed being there, meeting with friends and just having a good time.  But on the other hand, I am comfortable knowing that I would still not have felt right attending as Tanya.   Even less in male mode.  It's great to know the event is finding it's feet and it looks like it could be developing into one of the best regular trans nights out in the country.

However, I still have the running to get on with.  It, also, is not going as well as I would like but I have some targets to focus on over the next couple of months and I know that there is light and enlightenment at the end of the tunnel.

A Testing Week Approaching

Just wanted to say, I'm OK.  Over the past weeks, there have been many ups, many downs, many times being disorientated and confused.  But only about the T-life.  The normal male life has been fine and contented as much as it can be.

So this weekend I conducted a big cleanup, storing away the trinkets of the female side, putting shoes away into cupboards rather than against the bedroom wall, catching up on the ironing pile and hanging them in the wardrobe.  The shell of Tanya is now out of sight and I'm quite happy with that.

There are a couple of possibly difficult times approaching over the next week.  I cannot see this period of hibernation being extensive.  The T-side is very important to me so I feel I must keep a standard form until such a time I feel comfortable with cross dressing again.  So I have not abandoned the pierced ears, the five-weekly waxing nor the hair styling and colouring.  I feel it would cost me too much emotionally and in my own confidence if I let that standard slip.

Tomorrow I have my waxing appointment at my local salon.  I would normally attend as Tanya but the last two visits have been in male mode, one because I ran out of time to prepare, the second was just before the last Notts Invasion, and as you may have read in the previous post, I just could not be bothered.  I feel a little guilty about this, as although the girls there are fantastic and are not really bothered about how I present, they have given me wonderful support and confidence over the years when I've gone as Tanya.  It was a goal I was attempting to pursue, that I would only visit as Tanya for appointments.  We shall see but I think it'll be male mode again tomorrow.

The second event is my hair appointment next Tuesday.  I have always attended in male mode, and usually left with a definite femme style!  This Tuesday is a cut, style and colour.  I like to get my hairdresser to straighten the hair so that the femme style can be shaped into the bob, especially getting the fringe trimmed correctly.  I had half promised myself at the last appointment that I would attend the next one as Tanya as I had asked if it would be OK sometime last year.  Again, I doubt very much whether I'll attend as Tanya on Tuesday, but what I'm uncertain of (and even apprehensive) is the reaction to seeing the femme hairstyle again. Will it be a case of getting home, admiring it, enjoying the feel of it before washing it away the next morning before work?  Or will I feel the need to throw some slap on, get dressed and do a bit of late (window?) shopping in Lakeside.  I'm not worried or concerned about doing it, but I am concerned about how I would feel if I still get negative vibes from myself again.  Yes, I may look fantastic and blend into the public world as a woman, but that doesn't mean that inside it feels right.

Oh, bummer!  Seems I've written another non-so-positive post again.  Maybe there will be one in a week's time ;-)

Behind the painted smile......

After having a fantastic time at the first Nottingham Invasion, I was very tempted to visit again in January.  However, having had a very busy December, I really needed to back out and have some quiet few weeks.  I should have ignored Facebook and just carried on with the drab (but never boring) life.

Keeping an eye on the Invasion group, I could not resist joining in especially when Sue and Tiff were making an effort to be there, so booked up a room at the New Gables.

All was fine on the lead up to the week of the event.  Then on Tuesday, I started to get a few wobbles.  Nothing rational.  Just didn't feel like going.  Wednesday, my stomach was a little upset and I was getting a few twinges in my neck and shoulders.  I put it down to a busy time at work.  I managed to avoid taking advantage of the 48 hour cancellation notice, convincing myself that all would be fine.  I needed to prepare for the weekend, but kept putting it off by reading or playing computer games (not something I tend not to do).  By Friday morning, I had changed my mind a number of times and was very indecisive with what I was going to wear and pack.  Also, I wasn't keeping much food down and was ill a few times that day.  By now I knew it wasn't a bug but nerves.  I usually get the same feelings before a major competition.  Once I'm competing, the nerves drop away and I'm fine.  Although usually by then dehydrated and lacking energy.  With that in mind, I focussed on getting through the day, ready for the journey north.

I left work early, initially planning to get to the hotel for 5pm, but hoping for 4:30.  This gal has a lot of work to get ready and two hours prep just ain't enough.  I should have taken the A1 but opted for the M1 instead, knowing it may get a bit slow near Notts, but expecting an easier run in the southern counties.  How wrong I was!  Arrived at the New Gables, stressed, flustered, rushed. 

Sat on the bed, I just didn't want to do it.  I shut my eyes for a few minutes and just thought about going in guy mode.  It wouldn't bother me too much and I knew it wouldn't bother the other either.  But they were making quite an effort to get glammed up, some travelling long distances too.  I just couldn't do that to them.  Every last one of the girls I've met have been fantastic.  It would be like turning up to a friend's evening meal with a bottle of water, rather than wine.  I put my head together and concentrated on getting ready.  The hair was styled in haste.  I knew it wasn't right as I should have taken time blow drying it.  I tried a slightly different look with the eye makeup too.  Which seemed to come out OK in the mirror.  New dress, new shoes, new bag and new jewellery and off I went to meet the others downstairs.

As expected, once downstairs the nerves dissipated.  It was great to meet Maddy, Jo, Sue and Chrystal again.  Another great night out was on the cards.  Sam had approached the manager of Oceana, a 'straight' club, and received a positive response for our visit.  I still wasn't feeling right about myself.  I felt self-contained, not feeling freely sociable.  Also I felt self conscience about my presentation and the surroundings.  It wasn't uncomfortable, just felt out of place.  This was exasperated when in the loos of Oceana I checked my makeup and saw a panda looking back.  I was after a distinct but subtle form of the eyes but it was too late to fix.

The rest of the night went well.  OK, didn't get to dance as much as I wanted, but had a good few chats and really enjoyed the event once again.  Getting back to the hotel, I was quite happy to remove the garb which is a rare feeling.

After a brief sleep, breakfast and saying goodbyes to Maddy and Jo, I sorted myself out to make for home.  Driving into the city, I felt that I wasn't fully fit for driving, so stopped off for a walk around.  For the first time, that weekend, I felt OK.  I seemed to fit in, blend with the crowds and even had the confidence to ask for help in a few shops.  After a couple of hours exploring the city, I took a scenic route via Melton Mowbray back south.  During a quick stop in Oakham, I was caught in a shower without an umbrella.  I rushed back to the car but the hair was reverting back to it's natural state.  Self consciences hit again.  The feeling of belonging in Nottingham immediately turned to alienation.  Getting back to Essex, I needed to do some food shopping.  Covering up the hair with a woolly beret, I tried to blend into the other shoppers, but felt as if every eye was on me, every utterance talking about me.

The following day, I realised I should never have gone.  I should have listened to my emotions.  As an athlete I listen to my body.  If it says not today, I don't push it.  My internal feelings were ignored.  And now in the aftermath, I look at the Facebook statuses and photos and find I can't look at myself.  It's making feel uncomfortable about myself.  Hopefully this will pass and part of the reason of writing this, is that it will help me get over these issues.

I will consider taking a break from the T-world for a while.  Maybe in hindsight having a quiet January was a sensible idea after all.