Category Introduction to Me

Hi Guys & Gals… xx

Vikki Kinsella Leave a comment

Morning Gorgeous 🙂 xx

How you all doing peeps? Surviving the typical english summer (or whatever the weather might be around the world)? Good, I hope so.

So this post is a little bit of a test; but also another chance for me to ask some questions – I like to communicate in both directions. What I’m doing, is moving the blog off my personal page on Facebook and onto a public one. This will give people in certain parts of my life a choice as to whether they read the posts or not. Turns out I offended some people recently and as much as I believe in what I’m writing, sometimes you have to take a step back and go in a slightly different direction. Well this is it.

If you’re on Twitter or Google Plus; etc. there is no change. On Facebook, this should be the first post on a new page; separate from my personal profile. A learning curve, all good.

Right. So, there’s a few things in my head that need to come out. And I want to write them down here, this is MY blog. A few people have tried suppress posts in the past, not having it. I may apologise publically if something offends you but this is my version of events, written under my rules. The only person I won’t say no to on here, is myself. Out in the real world; I need to learn to do that again anyway. So this is my safe space.

OK, so here’s the disclaimer…

IF ANYTHING I WRITE ON HERE FROM NOW ON OFFENDS ANYBODY I KNOW, OR USED TO KNOW. CONTACT ME PRIVATELY AND WE WILL SORT IT OUT. DO NOT POST PUBLICALLY WITHOUT CONTACTING ME FIRST.

A darling member of my family recently made such a mistake and embarrassed not only me, but herself as well. AND caused issues in the family. All they had to do was call me; something I’d been waiting for; for months, anyway and we could have sorted it out. If you were hurt by what I said Kid, so was I. Pointless.

So anyway, fresh start for the Facebook side of things, onward and upward for the rest. Here’s to a brighter future; whatever that may entail.

Much Love,

 

Vikki xx

Memories

Vikki Kinsella 3 Comments

Evening Gorgeous xx

Note the change? Well it is half eleven in the evening, realistically? Morning? OK. Wherever you are, Morning Gorgeous!, because somewhere on the planet it’s 8am; just not here. Not now, anyway.

So what brings you to write at this time of night then? I hear you cry. Well, as the title of the post says, ‘Memories’. Memories of days gone by, old memories, good memories. The kind of memories that are character building. The kind of memories you tell your children – And your grandchildren, when you have them. The kind of memories that bond families together and make each & everyone of us; unique.

And my memories that are at the forefront of my mind at the moment. The reason for that, is those memories give us strength of character. Those memories build our individual personalities. And those memories are the core of who we really are. Sex, Gender, Gender History, all that kind of thing – The things that this blog is setup for. Melt away in front of this type of memory; and I go back to being that little boy, sat on the sofa in my nan’s house, eating home-made Apple Crumble drenched in Carnation Evaporated Milk.

Thats the type of memory that makes you who you really are.

And that is my memory. Family all around in my nan’s living room (brother, sisters, uncles, cousins, etc), all fat from a Sunday Roast, eating Apple Crumble or Fruit Cocktal; covered in Birds-Eye Custard or Carnation Evap. All watching a film on the Television because we can’t move.

And I can take that back to being at least 4 years old. I can see the picture of me up on the wall, pride of place strangely – as it was the biggest one above the fireplace and I was told I was my Nan’s favourite. With my ginger, curly mop in my 1970’s horizontally striped; knitted jumper. Sitting above the two Smash spacemen from the UK advert; also from the 1970’s. TV in the corner to my right. My Nan and Grandad in their separate arm chairs to my left and we were on the floor with my Mum and Dad (Step-Dad, but he was more of a dad to me than my real one) behind us on the sofa.

The thing is though, I was the little boy in the middle. My Younger Sister to my right and my Older Brother to my Left. My older sister to my far right and cousins dotted around the room, And we were all happy, at least that’s how I remember it; and that’s how I’ll always remember it. We were happy.

I look back with a lot of fondness, as you can see and a lot of sadness. But I’m not sad about it for any negative reasons, I’m sad about it for positive ones. For reasons you may not expect (and yet you might, how do I know). You see, most of my parents and grandparents are gone; they’ve passed away and I miss then dearly. What’s left of my family shattered when my Grandad passed away five years ago – but there’s family left, so lets be optimistic and this is my memory, I’m cool with it.

I’m also sad because I was that little boy. I didn’t care back then. I was as carefree as any little boy could ever be. I now know I’m Autistic, so that probably explains the carefree attitude; as it does today. I know now I’m Trans and I must have wanted to be a little girl, rather than a little boy; which would explain why I felt closer to my sisters, rather than my brother. But I also now know that I’m happy, again; just like I was back then.

So what triggered this? Well that’s easy, I’ve sat here and eaten a really nice Apple Crumble; drenced in Carnation Evaporated Milk. My god I enjoyed it! And I’m going to do the other half before I go to bed. Anyone around going to stop me? I don’t see anyone, do you?

So other than nostalgia, why write this? Well that’s easy as well. I know who I am. I am Vikki. I am me. Just like I was back then, I was Bert. I was Me. The only difference is, I got what I want and no one can take that away from me – And no one will either. But here’s another thing. I hear a lot of talk about Trans people rejecting their past, rejecting their ‘Dead Name’, trying to be someone else, trying to forget who they were and become a new person. Lying to themselves about who they really are. Why do that? What are you trying to achieve?

And are you going to tell me that doesn’t happen? I vow any fucking one of you to come and argue with me on it? Bring it on…

Well I’m not going to do that. You see, Vikki was that little boy, Vikki is that little boy, Vikki was inside that little boy crying to get out. And she did. And I’m not going to change that little boy into a little girl just to satisfy anyone else. I’m going to leave everything exactly as it is.

You see, as the title of the song from the film ‘The Greatest Showman’ (and by the way, it’s a pride anthem) says… This is Me.

And this is me. Deal with it.

 

Vikki xx

A Brave New World.

Vikki Kinsella 10 Comments

Firstly, excuse this first post if it’s a bit unprofessional looking – I’ll edit it on a PC (I have enough of them) when I get the chance. I’m writing this on my mobile phone at 3am, having been rudely awakened by the thoughts in my head; after a recent TV programme on the UK TV channel ITV. That programme being Transformation Street (#transformationstreet). Which is focussing on the issues surrounding transgender men and women, as they work through their journey to becoming the gender they strive to be.

To add some perspective. I’m Trans. I’m a Trans Female. I want to be a woman.

I don’t want to be a man anymore. I’ve done that, got the T-shirt, and worn it. With pride might I add – All 45 years of it. The best thing about it is. I enjoyed it. I didn’t want to be a woman, I worked hard to be a Man. And it wasn’t an easy task. There were things that didn’t add up. Oddities, you might say. Little things, well not so little, but easily suppressible – I’ll go into more detail later. But suffice to say; I could, for the most part, easily blow them off. And do so to the point where 99% of people thought I was a Man. With no questions asked.

In 2016, however, things began to change. Not to this extent (being Trans). But events happened, that brought in changes, that I was going to have difficulty dealing with. Autism for one.

I’m Autistic. Asperger Syndrome or High Functioning Autism. I was diagnosed in September 2016 at the CLASS clinic here in Cambridge, England. The CLASS clinic is a leading diagnostic centre in the field of Autism research and is linked to the, rather well known, Cambridge University. Therefore, I think the diagnosis of Aspergers is pretty sound and isn’t going to change.

Well that brought about some changes in my head. It began to change the way I think. It certainly changed the way I viewed myself and my place in the world. And this was badly needed as in the preceding years things had changed for me massively. I’d become a father for one, moved 200 miles away from my family, quit smoking; drinking; etc., changed my name. A few things really. It was time for change.

And change they did. I changed careers, sideways. Out of IT and into Payroll & HR. (Still getting used to that). I achieved a dream of going to America. Didn’t matter if it was for work, I went. And I met a woman who, ultimately, landed me £30000 in debt – Thanks, you know who you are and I’d like to see you argue it.

That same person also left me homeless. Pretty much on the street. Good thing I had a job, and very supportive friends, or I wouldn’t be here to tell this.

So we reach 2017. Yes, it was a nice New Year present having no home. Fabulous in fact. But I got over it. I now have my own place. A one bedroom flat and I have seen my son, not at the moment though. That’s OK, he’s happy and “Daddy One” lives and works away. “Daddy One” sends Christmas and birthday presents and puts money in the bank for when he’s 18. My son is happy and that makes me proud.

We were getting there in 2017. We starting building a new life. Met some solid new friends and made myself a home in a new town out in the country – I’m a city boy. Raised near Liverpool, England and lived in the North West right up until I was 36 before moving south. But I digress, which I do a lot – Autism Rocks.

It was August Bank Holiday when it all changed for me. And my life what a change. I look back on the last 4 months and I can’t believe it. What happened.

I’ll tell you – I came out. I came out as Trans. I’m a woman, not a man. I did NOT see that one coming.

I had a breakdown. An interesting weekend from what I can remember, but one I always have difficulty remembering. I know I was with a friend for some of it but I also know I did something I would have never done before – I had sex with another man. So what you say, maybe you’re Gay. No. I’m not gay. I will not consciously let another man near me while I have the same sexual equipment. Never.

Maybe it was drugs or alcohol – There was enough of it lying round when I woke up. Sure. Except I’ve done drugs before and, apart from cannabis which I started smoking again to relieve stress in 2017, I vowed never to do them again. And I don’t think I had enough cannabis to get THAT smashed.

No, it was a breakdown. I’d had enough and my brain melted, that’s how I ended up with a 10 inch vibrator in my butt and 150 quid on the side that didn’t come from my bank account. As soon as I was on my own it shut down and I can’t account for my actions until I woke up on the day I was supposed to go back to work – At 11am with my boss on the phone. I didn’t get to work. I phoned a doctor. I’d sold my butt for sex but I was as straight as they come.

My friends are going to read this and be shocked. At the very least surprised. As I haven’t told them everything. They don’t know this and it’s not fair for them to find out this way. But I’ve been too embarrassed to tell them. So I’m telling the internet as my way of counselling myseld through it. Hello world, here I come xx

Yes, kisses. Women do that a lot. So do I now. Kisses on the end of everything. I love it. I’ve never felt as free as I do now. I’m on HRT, and that’s put out the fire in my head. I live as a woman, and my life is getting so much more ordered and level – hence this and the Twitter account behind it @vikki_kinsella, look me up and say hi. I don’t bite.

But there’s the haters too. I don’t see the same viewpoint as a lot of the Trans community. I don’t identify with it all. You can call me by previous name if you like, if you know it. Some of my friends do. I want certain surgeries but I might not bother with vocal training or surgery. It’s taken me 45 years to like my voice, it’s not on the list of things I want to change just yet. And you can use use male pronouns to refer to me (calm down everybody). I was a man for 45 years, have some respect for that.

Anyway, it’s 4:30 in the morning. I’m going to bed. I’m up in an hour and a half to do my makeup.

Goodnight and pleasant dreams.

Vikki