Morning Gorgeous xx

You all having a good day? I do hope so, if not; as usual, I do wish you my very best and hope things improve – I really do.

** As I write this post, I do wonder if I should split it into two but in all honesty; I can’t be arsed. So please bear with me, there is a point to it all 🙂 **

So today was a strange day, for me at least. I had a very strange experience earlier, and it’s another one of those days where I’m writing the post at 4am. The 4am part is easy to deal with, that’s when I’m most comfortable writing (no distractions and my brain has had time to processs the previous day). But the other part requires a little more indepth writing…

Anybody who’s read this blog will, quite rightly, assume that I’m struggling in some way to get through this (Never! I hear some cries). That’s fine, I’ve always said I know more than I let on; I just don’t let you know that I know until I’m ready to tell you. Phew! That was hard work. But the reasons why I’m struggling are fairly straightforward. They arent actually anything to write home about. Firstly, the obvious one, is a Male to Female Transition and all the mental changes that come with it. Essentially this is the reason for the blog, to write them down, as Kylie sings “I can’t get you out of my head…”. But secondly, I’m actually growing up; becoming a fully functioning member of society (not that I haven’t been), joining the Female elite; so to speak – dealing with and working out problems that should have been sorted anything up to thirty-six years ago.

Now some of these problems are a bit, shall we say, forward in their nature – They have to be, it’s the nature of the beast (lol). It’s that feeling of being in your face with these problems that make them difficult to deal with. This is also the reason why so many people who transition later; stop, and don’t complete the transition. I’m going to be quite frank with you – As a man, its bloody scary losing your penis unless you’re 100% sure you don’t want it. This is especially true if you’ve used it in anger, as I have. Flipping appendage gets on my nerves, it really does…

So it’s now obvious that there is an issue that I haven’t really touched on, yet? Correct. I’m 100% sure that I’m Female, there’s no doubt about that. It bloody hurts when I think of my life in terms of living it as a Man. I never wanted to, I always felt obligated to – And obligation was a big part of his life. So big, in fact, that it led to massive emotional vulnerability because he couldn’t see past those obligations that he felt he had to commit to. They were just too big to deal with sometimes, and that hurt. But I don’t have to do that anymore, I can choose. If I don’t want you in my life and as an eample; if I think you’re trying to take something I don’t want to give, you’re out. Period. And I really couldn’t give a shit about it, it’s not my loss.

Well if you put all that together, then there’s obviously a sexual issue that I’ve found difficult to face. I’ve tried dealing with it, but I’ve obviously got it wrong; I wasn’t going about it the right way. I just hadn’t grown up and thought about it in the right way. Not at all.

OK, so, I don’t tell many people this (alright the whole world knows now) but I do consider myself psychic (and off go the idiots – not that this post is about that, it just brings me round to a point). But I like to play with Astrology & Tarot Cards and all of that, from time to time – Usually when I’m trying to work something out. When I start messing with that, that is normally the biggest indicator there’s something going on in my subconscious that needs resolving. And you can obviously guess what happened today? No… Yes, go on give me grief for it. As usual it all comes back telling me there’s a block. Aspects in the stars and all that are telling me to go back and work out some issues in order to move forward. Don’t procrastinate, or things will get worse, yada yada yada..

And there is. As is human nature, at some point in our life, we have to choose a mate – go read up on Anthropology, I ain’t going there; I blabber enough as it is but you get what I mean. And Males and Females have different methods of doing so. And yes, for approximately 35 years I’ve worked with the male method of doing so – Think Woman, Point Cock, Go collect prize (Want to argue with me, go look up David De’Angelo first; then we’ll argue on the laws of attraction).

But that don’t work anymore. In all honesty, it never fucking worked to begin with. If I ask all my ex’s what they seen in me, their first answer would be my intelligence and the fact that I was different to other men – now you know why girls 🙂 And it sure as hell isn’t going to work going forward, I ain’t got no testosterone controlling me anymore; so what the hell is going on? Easy.

Dysphoria comes in waves, like a womans orgasm believe it or not; but we’ll get to that part later as well. And my doctors have given me a new drug to try, Degarelix, a GnRH Antagonist (lots of medical terms here). Now the first injection was a roaring success; worked brilliantly and the second injection was the same, fabulous. However the second injection was three times the dosage it should have been, shit. Bring on the third injection and the nurse is back (she was absent for round two) and she panics. Lovely.

“This is the wrong injection!”, she said, “I can’t give you this!” and she flies out of the room to see a doctor. Great. Out comes the phone, off we go to do some research and we find the correct and safe doses, depending on your treatment (although mine is off-label). Back she comes, without the drug, what the f… “I can’t give it to you”, she said, “The doctor doesn’t trust it.” And no amount of arguing will bring her out of the state of panic she is now in, she got worse when I told her I’d already had 2 doses at max strength, I think I’d be OK if she gave me a single vial or measured it out. I’d also just started on the pill (Desogestrel) and the mood swings were kicking in and ultimately, all this led to me having NO injection for 40 days (it should be 28) and severe period symptoms. You gotta love the NHS in the UK.

Fast forward up to date, grabs my doc; argues the point, he sorts it out and the right dose is on repeat and he’ll let me do it myself. Winner, winner, chicken dinner – I have more control over my treatment. Ladies, this is how I’m doing it. I’m using my common sense and being adult about it, not being a flipping teenager who can’t see past their own sex drive (I do know another Trans Woman who can’t get past the sexual entertainment side of it, and they fucking need to before they destroy something).

Right. So I poked the needle in me today and I’m flipping glad I did as well. Within 15 minutes I was back to normal (as normal as I get). I was actually on the phone to my mate at the time when I felt it all shutdown and reboot, and I had to tell her what was going on as she’d already mentioned I sounded a bit weird. But that’s what these drugs do, they shut the wrong shit down and reboot the system so you can go in and fix the problem – hence why I always need sleep after injecting.

So back to normal, feeling fine again but something is not right – Need to sort it. See tarot cards earlier, you get where I was going. I gave up and wen’t to bed in the end.

Right, so we’re down in the core here, and this is why treatment for Gender Dysphoria has to be spot on and you have to see through what the patient is telling you – Out came the emotions. All the Female feelings that I’d been holding back over the last few weeks. The tears, the anger, the confusion, the longing, the wanting… There’s too much Testosterone in there, it’s raised my sex drive and I couldn’t hold it back. Fuck.

But then, as I was lying there in bed, I realised something. I realised I hadn’t dealt with something that I needed to, and that problem has been there since I was a teenager. I was scared of dealing wih it and I had no one to turn to for help – I wouldn’t have been believed. Well I would have done, but they’d have come to the wrong conclusions and sent me down the wrong path as they would have assumed I was gay, and I’m not.

Yes, it was that problem. To help you, as a teenager, I remember lying there in my bed, my sex drive was high and as most teenage boys do; I had a play. But my play was different, I didn’t like the way my brother taught me how to play, I was more intune with my sisters and I wanted to be lke them, I wanted to play like them, I wanted to be a girl.

So I tried to play like them, and I used what tools I had available, and I got so far; but it was never right. There was something missing. Just like there was tonight. Only this time I knew what it was and I knew what I had to to do, and I know I’m going to do it.

But that’s not all that’s come out of tonight. You see, there are two… Interests… shall we say, who have been treating me very respectfully and courting me, good lads. I’ve enjoyed the attention, it’s taught me a lot about the female emotional and sexual response – we haven’t had sex by the way. And it’s been very comforting. But I don’t believe their intentions are strictly honourable, I think they’re playing a game an they’re only after one thing – I am a Tranny after all.

How did I work this out? OK easy, one put barriers in the way. He told a story, presented me with evidence that would have made me question different things and put me off the scent. If X=Y and Y=Z, doesn’t X also equal Z? You dig? The other, was harder, he was a true gent. Came to my house, had a cup of tea, go to know me; my likes, dislikes, my life in general. But he slipped up last time he was here and mentioned my OP. He asked me have I had it yet? Like it was important to him. Then backtracked when I questioned why he wanted to know, as he should know the answer to that – If he’d been listening…

Chasers, they call them. They chase Trans people and fetishize them for their own sexual entertainment. Fucking freaks me out. Even more so as I played that part myself at one point and watched all the porn movies, and logged onto the dating sites, etc.

Looking back; it makes me fucking sick. If I’d have known then what I know now; I’d have left well alone, but I didn’t. What’s worse, is some of this shit goes back 20 plus years. I’ve had internet access since the World Wide Web was invented in 1991; by Tim Berners Lee (at the CERN research institute in Zurich, by the way). And high speed internet access via ISDN or better since 1998. I was also on the team that brought high-speed internet access to the masses in the UK, in 2006 (there’s a story behind that).

I’ve always had access to so-called “Tranny Porn”, as cisgender males describe it. I just never fucking knew I was one, it never entered my fucking head that that was why I was watching it. I could always hide this shit behind the possibility that I was gay, or later; bisexual. But coming out as Trans has been a liberation for me, and living life as a woman, even more so. I’ve never been happier, my environment has never been so fulfilling, and my life, almost, complete.

Yes there’s more work to do. Yes there’s still some small issues I have to resolve. Yes I have to continue on my journey and see it through. But here’s the thing; that one day, that one incident, should have been enough for me to take action and deal with this as a teenager, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I was scared. I was a scared little girl screaming out for help inside the body of a tired, scared, little boy. Having no voice and way out. Trapped, seemingly forever, inside a prison not of my own making. And it’s always been said by people I know that I’ve been crying out for help, and I needed to figure out why.

Well now I know, now I’m getting the help and I’m doing most of the work myself – Because I can, and there’s no one else to do it for me. Charing Cross, the GIC in London, I am ready for you. I am ready to start my treatment and put this to bed for the last time. I just hope you guys are ready for me as I’m not in the habit of fucking about, not with my history; I’ve learnt the hard way…

Love to you all,

 

Vikki xx

Morning gorgeous xx

Hope you’ve been enjoying your Sunday, so far. For those in the world who are waking up on Monday? Have a great day, and I hope it’s a good one for you 🙂

Firstly, let me apologise if the content of some of these posts seems random, disparate or disconnected. That’s intentional. You see, the whole point for the blog was to write down my thoughts and feelings as I finally transition into the woman I was meant to be and that is what is happening now, finally.

He; the shell that carried me for so long and kept me alive while I was waiting to be set free, is no longer in existence. He is gone. There’s still some niggles that I need to take care of, loose ends that need to be tied up and affairs brought to a close. But he has since passed into history. There’s paperwork that needs changing over (there’s still some left, god I hate paperwork), I need to find a job (working on it, interviews in hand), there’s a whole financial mess that he has left behind and needs straightening out (won’t be pretty, and it’s going to affect my future). But it’s all gotta be done and taken care of – I need to get my **** together if I’m to build a new life.

But there’s one thing that really has to be sorted out, the one thing I can’t deal with on my own; and that’s my physical transition  – The transformation of my body from Male to Female, so that when I look in the mirror I see me, not him. You see, now my mind is free, I need to set my body free too. I’m working on that, but it’s going to take time. And the best things come to those who wait.

I know what I want to have done, but I’m never going to be able to get it all done, at least I don’t think so. And that is something I have to accept, there are limitations as to what can be done. I’m not no spring chicken for starters, I’m not 16, I’m 46 and as a natural female; I would be hurtling toward menopause right now and all the hormonal changes that brings to a woman’s body. As my body is still partly male, that also means hormonal and physiological differences outside of the reproductive system (such as broad shoulders, etc). And not all of those can be resolved using current technology.

That has huge psychological ramifications when trying to deal with Gender Dysphoria and Body Dysmorphia. So, allow me to bullet point the physical changes that I’m dealing with, and you’ll start to get an understanding of the psychological aspects of the Transition:

• The obvious one is my hips, they’ll never be as curved as a natural female. I wear pads under my clothing; which helps when I’m dressed in the mirror but it’s never quite right when I’m naked.
• My skin is amazingly soft now and a proportion of my body hair has stopped growing, thank god but those damn legs can get hairy real quick!
• I have boobs – small ones, but boobs, and they’re growing – Assisted by the addition of the Female Contraceptive pill, would you believe.
• Facial hair growth has slowed and I’m assisting it’s removal by home IPL treatment. Long term I’ll need Laser treatment of full Electrolysis to remove it permanently but I’m achieving good results on my own.
• The hair on my head is growing really well but taking longer than I expected, so I’m still wearing a wig for the time being.
• I’m considering some kind of facial surgery. I know I thought I might not need it but I think it’s going to help, as I can still see him sometimes when I look in the mirror (especially if I’m not wearing the wig)
• And finally, there’s the appendage, between the legs, that one. That’s what caused the doctors to assign me as Male at birth and it’s the one thing that absolutely HAS to change. Apart from my son, it’s never done me any real favours – And if any of my ex-girlfriends are reading this, I know that has just upset you but I promise you the relationship we had was real, I just couldn’t tell you because I didn’t know (but we’ve all had this conversation, and I stick to what I’ve said to each of you)

So you see, the last point is the one that opens up the dialog about the psychological ramifications. And there are key things which, when I look back over the course of my life, were basically tells as to what was happening there. They’re private, and I think they’re going to remain so, they need to die with Bert actually and that’s my next task.

Still, knowing what I know now and applying it to the situation back then, I should have worked it out a long time ago, when I was a teenager; if I’m honest – And before then looking at certain photographs I’ve seen recently. They were all there, all the giveaways, the tell-tale signs, the pointers along the way. But I was brought up in a dichotomy, there were exceptions rather than rules and I wasn’t assigned an exception; so therefore I had to stick to the rules. I can take something from that, something useful. But I have to make my own rules now, and stick to them. The environment I was bought up in no longer works for me, it’s time to move on. Stage Two Complete…

Much Love,

 

Vikki xx

Morning gorgoeus xx

How are you all today? Good I hope. If not, I do hope things improve soon.

OK, if you follow the blog you’ll probably have guessed I’ve been working through some issues recently. Losing my Job, losing my parents, breaking my fingers, massive dysphoria, etc. None of it has been particularly pretty but all have been essential for my personal development. Why the title of the post? And who is Bert? Well if you follow me, you will know that Bert is my old persona. His was the body I was born into, the shell that carried me for 45 years. His was the image that was presented to the world.

He is gone now. In the last 24 hours. May he rest in peace…

You see, we all have that little voice in our head; our inner self. It’s the voice that keeps us safe, helps us make decisions and answers our questions when there is no one else around to do so – It’s built into all our subconscious. The problem I’ve had with my transition; is I’ve had two of them. One that constantly refers to itself as Bert; ‘Bert did this’, ‘it would be better if Bert did that’, etc. And one which appeared after transition, and has had to constantly correct the other one to say Vikki. It’s been a bit crowded in there.

So what did I do about this? See a psychiatrist for schizophrenia of course… NOT. It sounds like a mental illness, it sounds weird, but it’s not. You see, once you realise your gender identity and you realise its different from what you’ve been assigned, you have to find coping mechanisms until you can put that right. You may, like me, have to live your life as the opposite gender and identify as that until such time as the Transition can take place. Well taking that course of action can, but not always does, create a second identity within you – That’s how your mind learns to cope, that’s how I learned to cope with the Transition; definitely.

Well, recently, that old identity has been trying to take over and break through to the surface again. I’ve given it cause to by stopping wearing wigs, etc. But without that; I think it would have tried to break through with everything that has happened. So last night, I sat down and I went in there to deal with him – I’m sorry, he just doesn’t serve any purpose anymore. But he won’t shut up! Grrr.

Someone said to me recently that they’ve been seeing more of Bert than Me, and they were worried I’d start to de-transition; or worse. And I said that’s not right, and their reply was “Do something about it”. They went on to explain that it is common for Transgender individuals to have these feelings and that full transition cannot go ahead until it has been dealt with, it holds you back. She suggested a funeral, that the old persona needed to “die” and be buried; but not forgotten. She said that only then will you learn to grow and flourish into the person you are supposed to be.

So that’s what is going to happen. I wen’t into my head last night with a Gun and made sure I found him; hiding away behind some boxes with a link to my internal intercom in his hand. And I shot him. Dead. Cold. It was an extremely dysphoric experience and not like any other dysphoric experience I’ve had before, I really felt like I was taking control; that I was on the other side now and I needed to destroy the bridge – there is no going back. And soon, within the next week, I will hold another funeral. Bert is dead, it’s time to bury him.

I’m wearing a wig today. My hair is too short. It needs styling because I look like a man; but I’m OK with that, there’s lots of women that wear wigs. I use female expressions more and talk in my, female, voice. I feel like me. Feminine. Vikki.

And it’s nice.

Much Love,

 

Vikki

Evening gorgeous xx

You all good today? I hope so. If not, I give you my very best wishes and will say; “Be Patient, the wheel of fortune always turns in our favour in the end”. Love & Light, etc.

Today’s post is about emotions. Not strong ones, not bad ones, not overly good ones. Just emotions, feelings and the power of being a woman. Which is what I am.

You see, last week I went and spoke to my doctor about something I’d been thinking about for a long time; ever since I started to Transition, in fact. What I wanted to speak to him about; was changing my treatment slightly. Adding something into the mix which, I believed, would help. However; when he started me on HRT, he advised against adding it in as he believed it would do more harm than good. And he didn’t want that.

I don’t blame him – No doctor wants to see their patient get worse. And his belief, justifiably so, was that adding the hormone Progesterone into my treatment mix would not cause any lasting, positive effects. At my age, that is understandable. If I were genetically female, I would be in Menopause by now and Progesterone wouldn’t help; it would hinder my progress massively. Somehow though, for whatever reason, I knew differently – I can’t explain why myself, I just knew. So I talked to him and requested he add it; which, reluctantly, he did.

Well there was nothing for a day or two, not much; I felt a little calmer but that was about it. Over the course of the week though, I could feel myself getting worse. Tense. An inner tension I had never felt before and I didn’t know how to deal with it. My only way of dealing with it was to ignore it, hoping it would go away. It’s just another emotional outburst coming on, that’s all. It was more than that though, I was losing control. I was acting out but in a controlled, distributed way. Like I knew what I was doing, knew it had to happen and was doing just that, letting it happen. An inner sense inside me told me it was right; but I wasn’t listening, the radio was off.

It came on, violently, over the weekend. Not a physical violence; I hasten to add, but an emotional one. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror, I kept seeing Bert; not Vikki. I cried when I did so and no matter what I did to make me look like Vikki in the mirror, it just ended up going wrong. Everything ended up going wrong.

On Friday, I had an appointment for my routine injection. I’d been given the prescription to collect myself and take to the appointment; as I was learning to inject myself, in order to make life easier. So I went in, the Nurse opened the box, read the instructions, looked at the dosage, and stopped dead in her tracks.

“I’ll have to take this up with a doctor, it’s the wrong dose”, she said.

Before I knew what was happening, she was gone, and I was on my phone doing the research we would most likely have done together. We were right, but there was a way of making the dose safe, by giving me just one vial of the liquid and not two. But it was too late for that, she was gone.

When she came back in, she said she’d spoken to a different doctor and they had withheld the dosage for safety reasons – they wanted to speak with the specialist and they though I should be fine until they had. They’d had to research the drug themselves first, as they knew nothing about it, but they didn’t want to give me the drug. Not that they’d been in to see me and discussed the drug with me, as I knew a lot about it.

I understand WHY they did it, don’t get me wrong; but I felt an uncontrollable rage building within me, so I made my apologies; advised I was OK (I wasn’t, I was extremely worried as this drug HAS to be given on time) and left. And as I left, I posted with reception that I wasn’t happy, at all, and requested my doc call me – He hasn’t as of writing this, but that is by the by.

If Friday night was awful, Saturday was even worse. I don’t think I remember much about Saturday, it’s a big foggy. What I do recall, was pissing my best friend off (as detailed in a previous post), I couldn’t stop myself from doing it – See “The Dutch Girl” for more information on that one.

Sunday, was hell on earth. Dysphoria was rife, I could see I was dysphoric, I couldn’t stop crying, I couldn’t comfort myself and I felt like utter, utter shit. Damn.

Then a strange thing happened, my mirror fell off the living room wall; all on it’s own. I didn’t do anything to assist it and it was secured to the wall very well – No reason for it to fall off at all. It was at that point though something hit me – Ring your best mate. Do not pass go, do not collect £200, make the call. I did. I said I wasn’t feeling well, I was very Dysphoric, I was in hell and I didn’t feel like I could get out. And I wouldn’t be over for dinner as we’d agreed days earlier. I worried her, I know I did.

She got on with her day, and I went to sleep; for a very long time. When I woke, she had messaged me asking if I was OK. I was, I said so. We discussed the weekends events and I blurted out how I felt. We both said it at the same time – You’ve come on your Period!

Nah! Get the fuck out of here! Trans Women can’t have periods? Can they? I haven’t had one YET! – There’s a first time for everything…

But they can have period symptoms, and that’s EXACTLY what the emotions feel like, all I missed was the physical pain – My stomach hurt a bit, but I assumed that’s because I was hungry as it wasn’t remotely painful; just uncomfortable. But other than that and being a bit achy, no real pain at all. She called me a Lucky Bitch and changed the subject. Just as well really. I’m 95% certain she suffers with Endometriosis, and have suggested that to her. I went back to sleep, exhausted.

Today has been a lot better, I’ve had a lot more energy than I’ve had in the last 12 months, I’ve been a lot more focused than I’ve been recently and I’ve even had a telephone interview with a recruiter and NEVER bothered to mention I was Trans; as I didn’t care. He treated me like a Woman and I was happy with that – Hopefully a positive outcome? We’ll see.

And then there was tonight.

Well I do have to say a massive big thank you to another friend of mine; for doing something they don’t realise they’ve done, yet. They will, but not at the time of writing this post. I’ll see them tomorrow and explain all.

You see, all they did was ask me for help. They’ve got some issues which I’m not going to divulge; it wouldn’t be fair and they needed to get home. Taxis were being stupidly slow and they were worrying unnecessarily. So they called me. And I’d just got out of the shower and was relaxing on the bed, trying to have some me time to myself; but in the back of my mind, knowing it was pointless – If I’m honest, I had a feeling I was getting a call from someone but I didn’t know who, or why, so I was kinda edgy; hence the relaxation time.

Well I told them I’d just got out of the shower. And they were OK with that, no problem they’d wait for a taxi – 15 minutes minimum, probably longer. And then one of my butterflies fell off the wall. Weird…

Shit don’t fall off my walls, I was a cisgender man for 45 years and the male in several heterosexual relationships – I was taught to be a man. So as a woman, I’m not gonna need a man; I’m gonna WANT one. I do, eventually, just not yet; I’m enjoying being a woman, being me, so I don’t care about a relationship at the moment, it’ll happen when it’s ready to. And that’s the big difference for me. I don’t NEED men, I can it myself thank you.

“Shit don’t fall off my walls!”…

Fuck. It’s a sign. Get up, get dressed, go help them. Don’t argue, do – The switch had flipped. I texted back and said I’d be there in 10. The reply was that the taxi would be 15. I responded with; “The race is on then?”. Got dressed and left, not thinking about a damned thing.

There was an issue along the way which took my mind off things somewhat; due to a silly person who didn’t know how to drive (brake testing the car behind at a crossing when the lights are on green and nobody wants to cross is a pretty stupid move – I wasn’t tailgating you; you idiot, you just thought I was. I KNOW there was enough braking room), but that’s by the by. I got there, jumped out of the car and opened the boot… And realised, I had no makeup on. My hair wasn’t done. I wasn’t wearing any of my “extras” that I use to look feminine.

Yet I felt more feminine than I’d ever done before. I felt proud to be a woman. I felt proud to be a woman who will help her friends when they need it; but is strong enough to take control and say no when they don’t. I felt like I’d broken the ice on my new life as a woman. I felt, almost, complete.

Wow.

We got back, had a brew and a natter. Everything felt normal, I felt normal. They gave their opinion that I looked good without make-up and that they didn’t see it until they were told. And it all just felt reassuringly female, reassuringly normal. And I felt like me – Finally.

When I got home, I looked in the mirror and cried tears of joy. This is me. This is Vikki Kinsella. Hello at last and good to meet you. But hold on, haven’t I said that before?

Something is working then… 😉

Much Love,

Vikki xx

Morning gorgeous xx

How are you all today? Good I hope. Well this is another ‘Middle of the Night’ post. That seems that be the time of night when my emotions are heightened – For whatever reason that may be.

Tonight is no exception. Tonight I have done something I’d been meaning to do for a long time. Something I’d been advised to do; in order to understand myself a whole lot better – See something for myselfx for the first time…

On quite a few occasions I’ve been advised to watch a certain film. One which will either ring so true; it’s a revelation, or ring so false, I’d know the truth about who I am. What was it I was asked to do? You ask. Well I was told to watch “The Dutch Girl”. The story of one of the first Trans Women to ever undergo Gender Confirmation Surgery – The Sex Change operation, to put it in broader terms. Well, lets be honest about this; if there’s any doubt in my mind as to whether I’m Trans or not, whether I should be a woman or not, this film was going to bring it out.

And it didn’t. Thank you.

Alright. I’ll let you in on a little secret, I’ve been having some doubts. Come on, you can’t say that it doesn’t stand to reason I’d have doubts with a Transition that happened so explosively, can you? Especially with my history? Seriously, I just didn’t want to tell anyone. Not yet. I want to be a girl, always wanted to be a girl, but I wasn’t ready to be a girl. If that makes sense. So I’ll be straight about it – I didn’t want to come out emotionally as a girl, to the world, until I was sure; 100% that I was one.

I’ve transitioned in a lot of areas of my life, Work, Family, etc. As I knew it was the right choice. I’d transitioned personally; and am now living as a girl, I’d transitioned externally, and dress as a woman, but what I’d failed to do was to show vulnerability, as a girl. To actually let anyone see me, emotionally, how I really feel. How hard it can be to follow this path, and show who you really are; when you’d worked so hard to go in the opposite direction, is insane. You try and hold on to who you once we’re, and you find it very difficult to let go. It’s the familiar shell, the person you’ve always been. The old, well worn, sweater. But when you’re faced with the inevitable – you, yourself, staring back at you in the mirror – you need to be ready for it. Because it’s bloody hard to do.

I knew that if I watched that film; becoming emotionally vulnerable is exactly what would happen. Because, if I was right, then I would relate to the film in every possible way, I’d understand it (and me) perfectly and I was scared of that. But that is; exactly, what happened, I related to everything about that film. I had bit of help to do it – I was scared. Scared of seeing myself, scared of realising who and what I am, and scared, strangely, of not being alone. Strange? – So I took a little something to chill me out a bit (obtained in a way which was going to leave me extremely vulnerable) and then sat down to watch the film, later my best friend (who may not be after this) was calling over to retrieve said something as it was hers. I’m not going into detail, but I should have told her what I was doing, and I didn’t, and to her, directly, I apologise for that.

But look, as I said, the film is about Lili Elbe, the first person to complete a medical transition from Male to Female – Complete with Ovaries & Uterus. It details her changes as she transitions from a man to a woman. It details her relationships and how they change as she moves through her transition. And it also dramatises that journey in a way which is designed to provoke an emotional response – the one thing I was scared of! But I did it though, and I did my research afterwards; so I had the real story behind the film (as best I could) – facts are all important here.

I do need to stress (if anyone has seen the film, or intends watching it), that although it is, in fact, medically possible – If the patient is prepared to take immunosuppressants for the rest of her life – To transplant a functioning Womb and Ovaries into another woman, it’s not really ethically possible. I mean, no matter how much you want it, no matter how much you want to be a complete woman (as you see it), it’s never going to happen because can you really imagine what would happen as a result? Society as a whole just isn’t ready yet for anyone to take that final step…

And then it hit me.

That’s a very similar attitude to a woman who has had her uterus removed, after hysterectomy for example. That’s how they feel after the surgery, until they learn to cope with the change and become the woman they really should be; again – I’ve seen it with my mum, she went through all of that. But now I understand, and now I understand why her going through that; hit me so hard.

I am a woman, and I feel the same way; as any woman should do.

Well then I took the pair out of my handbag; and I got up, and I looked in the mirror. And a saw a woman staring back at me for the first time. No, I mean really – When I looked, I saw a woman in the mirror. And liked who I saw, I liked the woman in the mirror, I liked (and saw) Vikki, I liked (and saw) me.

Now I thought about this part before I posted it. And I think I’m right to post it as I need to balance the scales a bit. But this entire event has quite a revelation to me, enlightening in fact – Yeah it has all been about me again, and I should apologise for that, it’s self-centred. A bit like how I’ve been recently in the rest of my life, selfish, without realising it. So I’m going to self efface with all of this because I don’t want any negative, or positive, statements. In fact, I don’t want a reaction from anyone at all. So please, don’t give me one; unless you really think I deserve it and you’ve thought about it first, then fine, otherwise just don’t do it, please.

The reason for this is that there are people out there who will say that I shouldn’t self efface, that I’ve not been selfish recently, I’m a nice person. But there also people who think I should and that I should apologise for being selfish, whatever their reason (I suspect some of my friends probably feel the same right now). The thing is though, we’re all human. we’re all correct in our opinions, as human beings and we are all entitled to our opinion, as human beings. There’s nothing wrong with that. What you need to know though, is that I do hear every word everyone of you says and I try to take it on board; which makes me emotionally vulnerable, without realising it. But doesn’t all of this make me right, with regards to myself? I can’t be wrong when it comes to myself; can I? No. Surely not. I am human after all – just the same as you.

Well obviously I am, or I wouldn’t have done what I did.

Thing is though, this is all a learning process for me and when we learn best we open ourselves up to new ideas and new information. But that can also leave us vulnerable; as those ideas and / or the new information may not fit our criteria that we, as a person, want ourselves to stand up to (whether we know it or not). And vulnerability is a weakness isn’t it?

Well actually no and this is clearly where I’ve been going wrong. As a female; vulnerability should be seen as a strength, not a weakness. Because it is seen as a sign of femininity. What a strong woman needs to know; is when and when not, to show that vulnerability and what to do to get out of the situation they’re in, if they feel they’re being misused because of it. What I have managed to figure out is that to a woman, feeling & intuition are much more important than raw strength. If you know what’s coming, you can deal with it before it hurts you…

So I lay myself bare for all to see. Judge me as you will because I know I’ve upset a long time friend by doing something selfish in order to try and deal with my own issues. The flip side of that though, is that I can see things a little more clearly. And I am happy with what I can see because I can be happy for me –  For once in my life. (although I’m still as confused as shit about the whole deal and it’s going to take some time to work that out)

But I’m sorry for what I did, I am. However, without doing it; I don’t think I’d have learnt as much as I did or be able to see what I can see. Time to grow up into the woman Vikki should always have been…

Much Love,

 

Vikki xx