Morning Gorgeous xx

How you all doing today? You good? Glad to hear it.

Lets start by saying that some of the best and most creative offerings the world has ever seen, have come from some of the darkest places in the creators mind. You can argue that all day long if you like but I’m sure there’s million examples on both sides of the argument. Essentially, to bring out your best; you have to go through your worst.

And in my head, that’s pretty much where I’m at.

I’m sure a lot of my friends who read this will be worried about me right now – I ask you, don’t be. I’m OK, I’ll get through this. My head will sort it all out; that’s for sure. I didn’t get to 45 years old without living a life and you all know that.

But all know why I’m doing this, it’s to get the horrible thoughts out. To keep me in a good place, to stop me from going back to those Pitch Black places that I’ve described to you all before. To make sure that the stuff that runs round in my head and won’t go anywhere; HAS somewhere to go. You all know I love Music and you’ve all seen the pictures of my home studio (for those that haven’t, I’ll upload one). I do write occasionally, I have a friend who will take any opportunity to grab me, a keyboard and his Mac and get something out of my fingers! – He’s always pleased with the results (Love ya both – you know who you are)

Thing is that’s what I’ve learn’t (re-learnt) through all of this, is to get it out, do something with it and turn the dark, horrible stuff into something bright and useful. And that’s also why some of my posts don’t always make sense (as has been said, and rightly so). In my defence, I go back and edit them afterwards, right?

I’m in one of those dark places now. My head is literally spinning with information and issues. The only connection between any of them is me and my transition – and even then, some of them don’t add up. I mean, we still have Toiletgate and my Boss & HR are looking at 3 months to sort that out – 3 months from when it happened, NOT from my transition; which was a month previous. This is literally making me scared to use the female toilet in my area, and I’m going to need more counselling to sort it out – I don’t think I’ll be able to go in there on my own, that’s a dead cert. And I’m scared of the door now, I’ve never been this scared of anything in my life! What’s it going to be like when I’m allowed to use it?

In my mind they’re validating discrimination on the basis that other people are scared, but this what the Equalities Act was supposed to avoid! Where’s the Education and Inclusion that this Law was supposed to bring in?

And that’s my next point. HOW do you educate people on these issues? I know there’s charities and organisations out there who are spreading the word (StoneWall, The Beaumont Society, GIRES) but they’re not penetrating where I am. How could they be? As I wouldn’t have this issue if they did. Transgender issues have been in the national media a lot recently (Transformation Street, CBB 2018 – India Willoughby, Piers Morgans Life Stories – Caitlyn Jenner). But they’re not covering the whole story. The biggest point of which is Female To Male (FtM) Gender Reassignment – I’ve just been doing some reading on that and it hasn’t helped my head in ANY way, shape or form, that’s a whole new ball game.

I mean, my head is absolutely spinning this morning and I’m close to tears. And I think a lot of it is fear. Fear of change, fear of acceptance & inclusion from the world around me. Some of it is the world’s fears. There’s someone walking around who doesn’t fit into a predefined category or social construct. Then there’s a lack of education. The world IS changing but VERY slowly and these new, 21st century social ideas and values haven’t been fully accepted by the older generations – of which I am a part.

There are people of my age, who probably grew up in the same way I did but are not like me. And therefore have the same attitudes and values that were impressed upon me when I was a kid. Someone like me was socially unacceptable, a freak. The original Victorian Caged Animal. And there is the problem for my generation. Victorian Values. Edwardian Values.

And a side note – It’s not what people say, it’s what they do.

The above is important, VERY important. My Parents are Post-War Baby Boomers. Their attitudes and values, regardless of what they say, are firmly imprinted in that era, that’s when they were born, that was the influence around them at the time. My Grandparents, although now deceased; God rest their soul, Were born in the Edwardian Era – getting there? So my Great Grandparents, were pretty obviously; Victorian. Now you haven’t gone that far back in my life, to reach a point in my history where the values of sex and gender were firmly opposed to anything that wasn’t Black & White (Male or Female). “Are you a Man or a Woman?” – Remember that from an earlier post? That’s pretty much a Victorian Value right there. I’m not going into the debate of historic values and I don’t want one, but that’s background to all this; as I see it, rightly or wrongly.

So why should it not be the same for anyone else? – Answers on a postcard.

It’s been said to me in conversation that my generation, Generation X, are the last that will have these issues. The last will grow up with the predefined attitude of Male and Female. And that is so true, with the world changing in the way that it is; what other conclusion is there to reach? But we are also the Trailblazers, we are also the milestone generation. We are the parents of the Millennials, we gave the the new world the attitude that it has, either by choice or by rebellion. The thing is, were WE rebelling against outdated social values and constructs? Yes; we were and did we impress that rebellion upon our children? Yes; we did. Are we the children of the 1960/70’s response to Drugs & Free Love? Yes, we are. So are we the trailblazers acting upon the changes in attitudes of our parents? Yes.

Then why the fuck was my Uncle (An openly gay Drag Queen) put on a pedestal in a cage? And why was that attitude of morbid tolerance, rather than open acceptance, thrust upon me?

You see the source of my confusion now?

Welcome to my Blog.

Love,

 

Vikki xx

 

Morning gorgeous xx

Let me describe a situation to you. This is my current situation and I’m telling you because it’s important to know where I am, before I explain how I got here.

So I’m at home right now. Lying in the bed with my phone in my hand. I’ve just had a very long conversation with a friend. And earlier, I was at another friends. But part of both conversations was the same topic. The topic is a situation I find myself in at work. And it’s a situation that I find myself in, because I am transitioning.

The situation itself is down to a question of viewpoints. Ultimately, it’s my viewpoint against the world, and we can get to that shortly. But this is a challenge that everyone must face at some point in their life and we all must find ways of overcoming it. So, OK, why mention it now then? Well, the reason it’s a challenge for me is not anything anyone has done or said to impress a different viewpoint upon me, its the fact that my viewpoint is changing, rapidly.

You see, for 45 years of my life, I was a Man. I had developed a man’s viewpoint on the world and it had developed a similar viewpoint of me – I was a Man in the world at large. Fair enough, It wasn’t easy getting to that agreement with the world when you’re struggling with your identity, but I’d done it. And on the face of it I’d done it pretty well. Nice one mate, job done. Only as appears typical in my life, I spend a lot of energy building something concrete; something that can’t be broken down, a mountain. Only to find I built it in the wrong place, or it was the wrong size, or some other reason why it didn’t fit with what everyone else wanted. And the same was true of my identity. It turns out I’d spent a lot of energy building an identity for the world at large only to find I’d built the wrong one, and it wasn’t my true identity at all.

Oh shit.

So you see, I’m not a man after all. I’m a woman, and in fact I always have been. And that’s the problem I had with the world, I couldn’t see it for what it was because I had the wrong glasses on – rose coloured in fact. But I wasn’t allowed to set the correct viewpoint for me, and grow up with it, because the world got there first and changed it.

So OK, I developed the viewpoint and personality I had to keep the world happy. Upsetting the world and blazing that trail on your own, as a child, is risky when you’re brought up in an environment where everything is black and white – With a hint of pink that it likes to show off every now and then.

But it’s basically black and white, or Male and Female; but you get the drift so I’ll leave it at Black & White. Either way, you have the physical characteristics of Black (Male) or White (Female) and that’s it. You are what you are, grow up and shut up. And as I had the body of one side of the fence, Black, I must have the personality to match – No way did I have the personality from the other side, White. That could never happen. And God forbid I found myself having a personality in the Pink. Please no, don’t do that to me, I’m not a Victorian caged animal, I’m a human being. Luckily, I didn’t have that – Never have had. But I did learn real quickly that if I was Black, then really; something pretty damn major was wrong as my personality was White and I knew it. Damn you.

Then, as I said, the world stepped in and changed my viewpoint. In fact it slapped me in the face – Real bloody hard as well. At it happened at an age where I was no where near old enough to understand what the world was, so this came as rather a shock. WTF.

And to be honest, I didn’t really need to know at that age – I didn’t want to know either. I thought I had quite a few more years yet before that was something I needed to think about. And I was happy being a child, why should I need to care. I had enough to deal with with my brother, anyway. So when the world woke me up early and told me to get up, I couldn’t, I wasn’t ready and I didn’t know how. I needed more time to work out who I was, time to be left alone please, until I was ready. But the world doesn’t care about that, so it literally just left leaving me in a bubble and leaving me to get up on my own.

So I did. I got up, I looked in the mirror, I painted myself Black and I did whatever I could to get on with it. I wobbled a lot – a hell of a lot, but I eventually made it. Wouldn’t be here to tell the tale if I didn’t.

The only problem now, and this is the source of my confusion. Is I’ve walked all these miles on this journey, only to find out I’d been on the wrong journey all along. WTF…

Lots of Love,

 

Vikki

 

…And start being one.

And there. Right there. Is the crux of the Male to Female journey for me. And very probably most of those in my generation, but anyway….

Morning gorgeous… xx

How are you my lovelies. I hope you’re all getting where you want to be, no matter how long it takes you. As it will always take longer for some than for others. It’s just the way the world is.

Never forget that as it’s a damn good piece of advice. Well, let me share some other useful pieces of advice with you; and you’ll start to see what I’ve been thinking today:

They say patience is a virtue, and it is – good things come to those who wait, no doubt about that.

They also tell you that if you want something badly enough, then you must go out and get it. And that is also a damn good piece of advice. There is no point in waiting around if you already know what you want. Go get it girl.

Well these are two conflicting pieces of advice. One is telling you to wait and see what happens and the other is telling you not to, just to go ahead and do it. Well which one do you choose, and how do you choose? Well you choose the one that’s right for your situation, and only you will know which one that is. No one can tell you, it’s something you really do have to work out for yourself – you have no choice. People can advise you, but anyone can give advice. It’s the one thing everyone gives and no one takes. And you NEVER take your own, do you?

Don’t lie.

Well I have had a similar problem over the years with two conflicting pieces of advice. And I think it’s a problem that anyone struggling to discover their self identity has had. Cutting to the Chase, the biggest part of the problem was not the advice itself, but working out which one best suited me and helped me to deal with the situation.

As I’ve said, growing up, I was expected to be a particular type of person. I was expected to be male. I was physically and socially a boy and I would grow up to be a man. And because of that, one of the biggest pieces of advice that was ingrained into me when things went wrong was the phrase; “Stop acting like a woman”. I was visibly a man and men don’t cry, men know what to do (apparently), men have confidence in a given situation, and men keep their cool. 1980s society in the western world all over; right?

Good, you got it. But there was another piece of advice that was coming to the fore. And that advice was offered to me many times – and it makes sense to follow it too. That is; “Be Yourself and be the best version of yourself that you can be”. Good one that isn’t it, who can’t tell me they don’t know that one today?

So now we have Gender Dysphoria. And the issue of not being able to choose between two conflicting things. Essentially, “Are you a man or a woman?”.

Oops, did I say something there? You did read that didn’t you?

I hope you did, because I’ve just hit the nail on the head. I’ve just described, at least my; dysphoria for the first time. And it’s something that I suspect there’s a lot of people out there; that can relate to. Because the issue I’ve faced all my life, the thing that has blown my brain without realising it all these years, is that I was always being told to stop acting like a woman, when I actually felt like I am one.

Now to grasp my situation fully, I’d like you to put that in the mind of a 10 year old, prepubescent child. Whose just been raped because his schoolmates thought he was gay. And it wasn’t acknowledged by anyone – it was covered up. “The dunking” as my mother referred to it. Funny that, didn’t feel like I was being dunked, more spit roasted.

But anyway; the advice was, stop acting like a woman and be a man about it. Grow up. You want to tell me exactly how you expect me to do this? Please?…

Love,

Vikki

Morning Gorgeous xx

How you all doing today? Hope you’re all doing great and life is fab. If anyone isn’t having a great time at the moment, you have my prayers that better times are just around the corner. As I do hope that they are. But anyway, to the title of this post. As it must have you wondering what the hell I’m talking about? Right? No, you got it straight-away, really? Let me explain, and then we will see if you did. Because I’m not convinced you’re 100% there if you haven’t been through it.

A big issue for anyone who’s just starting out on the transitional journey, is the use of public toilet facilities. At some point in your transition you HAVE to start using public facilities of the opposite gender. Whether you like it or not. And most Trans people do, that’s what they want. Although, I can be a bit (very) scary at first; especially at my age and the type of transition I’m going through.

So, using me as an example (and I’ll add images later so you can see), I’m already dressing and working as a woman – And I’m told I look good, definitely passable, even at this point in the transition. As I’m Male to Female, that makes it REALLY difficult to use Men’s public facilities. Not that most men would care about this too much. They’d look at me a bit strange, but they’d just put it down to the ladies being full and it being an emergency. And likely wouldn’t even think that if a young enough child was present. But women, on the other hand, can have a BIG problem with that. A cisgender male in a female public facility can find himself being arrested and placed on the sex offenders register if he doesn’t have a good reason to be there, no child and you’re doomed.

Some things will take time to change.

There are still women out there though, particularly of the older generations, who still have a problem with Trans Women. The attitude “You’re not a Woman”, when you clearly are, still persists in some circles – It’s been thrust at me, full force and I didn’t like it. On the other hand, most women just generally find it intimidating; and need a bit of time to feel more comfortable around a strange woman – who has male parts – but acts like a woman – but sounds like a man. Do you see what I mean?

In any event, with the advent of gender-neutral facilities,;this shouldn’t be a problem for much longer. The world is changing, and if you really are screwed, there’s always a disabled facility. Or is there…

THAT, is toiletgate. Right there.

You see, where I work, all of the above came into play, really quickly. I transitioned in December, changed my name, and started coming into work as I finally wanted to be known, and dressed accordingly.

It. Was. Liberating. I’ve never felt so good in my life.

The only problem was, that being a rather explosive transition, I needed to think about other people. It wasn’t just going to affect me. So I offered to use the disabled facilities in work; for a short period of time, until things had calmed down. They’re the only gender neutral facilities in the building. The only problem with that, is that there were a limited number of disabled facilities and they’re quite far away from my desk. But such is life, as I thought, it would only be a few weeks at most and I could cope with that – Even though my bladder control had gone out of the window along with my male persona.

So we reach New Year. New Year, New Start. And I advise HR that from the first week in January, I would be using the correct facilities for my new gender. The law says I can, everything else looked good and I thought I had a good body of support behind me (I do, no issue there). I also had a reason to expedite the change, so it had to happen. And I thought everything would be fine, enough time had passed. But I wasn’t expecting what happened next.

Let me give you some background, and I have to be careful not to give too much away – But I was kind of forced into the decision. The nearest facility that I was using; was also directly in front of a different company,  who are in the same building. And EVERY time I used the facility, someone would try to access it while I had my Trousers or Dress around my knees. And this, to me, is rude – That’s how I was brought up, I’m a 70’s child; things were different. If someone’s on the toilet and you can’t be certain it’s in use, you knock on the door. It’s respectful, it’s Adult, it’s the right thing to do. Isn’t it?

Apparently not, at least that’s how I now feel about it.

When it first started happening, I let it go. I have a son, he has flung the bathroom door open on me while I’ve been having the morning constitutional many times – And then shouted at me for being there. My presence was required, by him, elsewhere. Get on with it Dad, this is MY time; not yours, sort it out – He’s my son, after all.

But it was happening EVERY SINGLE TIME I was on the toilet. And in a short space of time, it grated on me; a lot, like the fires of hell. So I collared someone one day, who I could clearly see didn’t need to use the facility, and I asked then what they were doing, and they told me. They were taken aback at being asked though, which I thought was very strange. I admit, I was a little harsh in the way I asked; but not overly so, just direct questioning – No introductions, so to speak. Yeah, if you want to call me rude, do it; but re-read this post before you do, just to get it straight in your head. Anyway, I was told they were allowed to use the facility as an extra toilet, and I was taken aback; that’s not normal in the UK. Disabled facilities are separate and need to kept free – that’s the law. Their for the use of disabled persons and I shouldn’t really be using them, but I had no choice and I am classed as disabled anyway, so the law is a little bit on my side.

But it didn’t stop and it happened again. So I complained, to both the company and our HR. Issues were starting to boil and needed sorting out.

So were back the point where I’m going into the Ladies. I see I’ve got no choice, I NEED the loo and there’s an issue with the one I’m using. I’m scared witless of using the female toilet but I don’t know what else to do. So I call HR and I advise them I’m ready. I’m not, but it’s ‘Bull by the Horns’ situation. The one’s I deal with best. But alas, no, I’m not going in yet. Concerns were raised by other female members of staff in my department when they were told what would be happening – they need more time. I can’t not agree, I’ve offered them time just not enough apparently. But please; what do you want me to do. I didn’t have to offer, the law is clear; once I transitioned, I could use the Ladies, no questions asked. And I’ve got a BIG issue with then Gender Neutral (Disabled).

A side issue is going on around the “You’re not a woman” point that I raised in the beginning, and I’ve got a complaint against member of staff but It wasn’t raised yet. In any event, this boils over and I head home, I want blood and it’s not a good idea for me to get it.

In swings the bosses and HR. This needs sorting out. Now.

Next up is a 2 hour meeting with me, my boss and HR. Where I clearly explain what is going on and that I’m not happy –  A duty of care for all members of staff is fine, and I’m happy to use a different facility; but it’s not working out with this one. I’m told it’s the only option and it was my decision, just give them more time – I agree. They’re right, no denying it; no matter what the law says or what I feel, that’s the way it is – I said it first. For me, at this point, it’s put up and shut up. And being the type of person I am, I actually agree with that; it’s just VERY difficult where my privacy is concerned, so it can’t go on forever. There’s also going to be a point where the other staff are going to have to put up and shut up too – I mean, what happens if one of these idiots successfully manages to open the door. I get a feeling there’ll be fireworks, I’m VERY protective of my privacy when I need it. In all honesty, that would not be a pretty day in the office, or hell as it would quickly become. I know I’d lose it and that’s a big No-No. I just felt that day was rapidly approaching, and it scared me. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost control.

As a way attempting to sort it out, building maintenance got involved. A notice went on the door advising users to check the handle. I was told, by building maintenance, that eventually some kind of upgrade to the lock would be fitted – it was just being looked into, and it was being treated as urgent. That appeased me a little bit more. And for a few days everything was fine. But then there was a weekend and during weekends everyone forgets. Come the Monday morning, I head the little girls room and I do my business. All is fine you would think? Hahaha, gotcha – No.

The damn door near comes off it’s hinges while I’m in there. I hear the other companies door go, I hear two steps and then boom. Luckily it didn’t open, but it was close one. I LOST IT. I shouted at whoever was outside, the words “excuse me”; very loud. I finished my business and I left the toilet, then I waited. Someone was going to come back round the corner in a moment, right into the jaws of hell – I didn’t care, I was pissed. Luckily for them it never happened though. Our office manager appeared first and politely asked me what I was doing. I’m quite an honest character, even when I see red. So I told her, no reason to lie. I was quickly dragged off to one-side and told in no uncertain terms not to be where I was and DO NOT do what I was about to do. Understandable, and rightly so. They have a point. It would have gone off.

At this point though, I’m not sure if she fully understood my perspective. There were members of her team who raised concerns and she has a right to be protective of that. So I do wonder if having that perspective maybe clouded mine in her mind a bit. Again, I’m a straight-forward girl and I like to see all sides of an argument, even when pushing my own. Therefore, her perspective was for me to calm down. Try and see thing as they are and get used to the situation, it will resolve itself in time. There was relationship between the two companies and this issue was putting it in jeopardy, calm the **** down.

Well of course it will resolve itself in time. I agree, it has to. But it’s just not going to happen while I’m using that toilet. Whatever situation has gone before needs to change if I have to go in there, it is at great odds with my personal privacy. I feel it was getting discriminatory pretty quickly as I’m forced into using a facility that I clearly can’t. Even if the situation is of my own making. I was trying to be helpful but I had NO idea this was going on, and there’s was NO way I was making it my problem. Personal privacy to me is paramount. I’ll tell you what I want you to know, for example. It just couldn’t go on and there was no way I having anyone tell me that it would.

A solution was very quickly found.

There is a set of toilets in that building that very few people know about, as they’re hidden behind a door in an area of the building where it’s obvious if the facility is in use. And it’s not a long walk to the next nearest. And guess what, it’s Male and Female – NO disabled or gender neutral. The staff that do use it are aware and are very pleasant about it’s use. If the door is shut, someone is in there.

And now I’m allowed to use it. I CAN use a public female toilet after all.

Anyone want to call me a B***h right now? Please do, I think I found my inner b***h over this – I do need to know who she is. But I honestly thought I’d given people enough time, and there was the Christmas break in the middle. So did I misjudge something? Clearly I did – I misjudged people and their feelings, and people can be as protective of their feelings and privacy as I can, so I get it. But I think I got it in the beginning as well, so maybe that wasn’t it. What I think I didn’t get, and I reacted badly to, is how rude people can be when they think they have a right to something and that right is being taken away from them – Whether or not that right actually exists in law. If they think it’s theirs, get out of the way because they’re not letting it go.

My male persona would have fought tooth and nail for the underdog (the disabled in this case) and would have been like a dog with a bone – no way would he have let it go. Once he had the bone, tough. But then so will my female; or my natural, persona – They’re one and the same after all, just one was an adaptation of the other trying to fit in with the world around it. But here’s the difference. As a woman, the feelings spill quicker and then they’re gone, they dissipate. I’m not angry at what or why this happened, I just wanted a solution that allowed me some privacy. So I’ve backed down quicker, and I see the level playing field sooner. I still have travel to a toilet, a lot further than I need to – but I don’t have an issue with that toilet, and using it is keeping the peace for all concerned. The dog will give up the bone if you just let it bark for a minute, because it’s not really interested in the bone unless you throw it and ask it to play fetch.

Food for thought isn’t it.

Love you all.

 

Vikki xx

Morning Gorgeous xx

Because you are, all of you, in your own unique way. And that doesn’t always have to be physically beautiful. The pain and psychological discomfort caused by looking in a mirror, and seeing someone you don’t like looking back at you, can be life threatening. It’s horrible, and it’s well known. I’m not going deep into that, although I could as I wouldn’t be who I am now if that didn’t happen to me. But I’m touching on the subject because it’s at the forefront of my mind this morning.

You see today, I’m happy. Not ecstatically happy. Not overjoyed. Not Bi-Polar (whoa, guys; calm down). I just feel good. I don’t want to go out and spend a million bucks, pounds for the die-hard English amongst us. I don’t want to go out and run through a field naked, I’d probably scare people. And I don’t want to hit the clubs and party, I’d rather spend a night in with close friends like I did last night.

So you get where I’m coming from though, it’s that slightly care-free, buoyant, happiness. That happiness where, as a woman, you get up in a morning and you do things with just that little touch of flamboyance. Guys, it’s the kind of movement where; when you see a bloke do it, you instantly think he’s gay, effeminate. Drag Queens and Gays, you’ll get it, but for ****’s sake do you lot go overboard – reign it in. Girls, it’s the little flick of the wrist, but not a flick, more a graceful movement. When your movements carry a certain, joi de vivre – but not, do you get me – don’t over think it and you’re getting close.

I’m doing it now, as I’m thinking. It’s little flicks of the fingers with your forefinger ending up on your lip.

Now as this is something I don’t feel very often. So, It’s nice when it comes along, as these moments should be treasured. Remembered. Wrote down :).

As you’ve guessed, today, I fell feminine – “Man, I feel like a woman”, lol. I feel positively feminine, like things appear to be changing for the better. Like I can look that little bit further forward but I don’t want to speak too soon though, because that would be bad. Although I do feel like that, if things carry on the way they are, the end result could mean that I get my life back together. And that’s a positive feeling.

But…

I looked in the mirror when I got up and Bert was staring back at me. I hadn’t put my make-up on – and still haven’t, but now it’s deliberate. Bert is who I used to be, Bert was a man. Bert was a crazy, angry, intelligent, slightly opinionated, eccentric, man. Bert had an interesting life. He started many things, he didn’t finish most of them – He was always chopping and changing his mind. Constantly running away from things, yet running towards something but not knowing what. He found himself in some interesting situations and via those he did some really important things. He also did some really bad things, things you should regret doing; but he didn’t. Bert was generally ****ed up, and everybody but Bert knew it.

Seeing Bert, and now my hair is growing, my / his dad, looking back at me; creates dysphoria. Bert is gone, he’s not coming back. I still get a lot of mail through my door for Bert, but that will drop off in time as I, Vikki take over. But Bert, for all intents, is dead.

Or is he…

I think this is where my viewpoint might differ from a lot of Trans people, and I certainly haven’t seen this mentioned anywhere. But I’ve decided I don’t want to forget my past. I’ve decided I don’t want to forget Bert. I’ve decided I don’t want a total transformation.

I’ve decided, and I cry to think about it, that Bert was my Brother.

And we were close.

I come from a big family anyway. I had 3 sisters and 1 brother. My mother had six brothers and My father had 1 brother &, I believe, one sister (but I can’t remember). My step father had a brother and a sister. My grandparents had multiple brothers and sisters. And they all had kids, there’s a few of us around.

I wasn’t close to my sisters though, and if they ever read this, they’ll know it – don’t call me, I’ll call you. I stopped talking to my brother in 2001 after A LOT of fighting – he just couldn’t get me; and he was the cause of a lot of my dysphoria (for a different reason) when I growing up. Outwardly, I had a good relationship with my mother and step-father, but if we’re all honest about it, it wasn’t real – there were unresolved issues.

But the relationship with me and Bert. It was different, and it’s going to be different. He lived in my body for 45 years. He shaped my body – He could’ve done a better job, but he was a man after all :). He did a lot of things for me. And he did a lot of things I wish he hadn’t have done, but it’s too late for that now. He also gave me a son, whom I love dearly. Overall Bert wasn’t that bad a bloke.

Bert also had a feminine side, me as it turns out and most of his friends were female. That was a BIG problem for Bert, being a man; we all know what Bert was thinking. If there was a place he could put it, he would if the opportunity arose – no questions asked. But he liked female company, he liked women, just not in the way a woman would want a man too. He loved talking to women and he loved helping them solve their problems, he was good at that. He loved having female friends, and I think women liked that about Bert because I know I do.

When I look in a mirror though, and I see Bert staring back at me. It’s a problem though, because he’s not around any more – He’s a ghost. And I don’t wake up until I put my war paint on. Every morning, I have a little cry about that and I have to learn to deal with it.

So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to accept it – I can do that. I accepted he came first for 45 years and I lived as him, for 45 years. He shaped my life and my body. He was me. He was my brother and I am his sister.

The haters, the negative people out there, the weirdo’s and those who have an issue with Trans people will all say I’m schizophrenic – I have mental health issue – I need help. Yeah, **** me I do, oh you’re so right, I have a mental health issue – I’m Autistic, I have Asperger Syndrome, a learning disability. I could do with some help with that. But this, I need help to understand this. I need help to come to terms with this. I need help to make Bert a part of my life, my past, that shaped me and who I am today. A part of my life that I can look back on without regret.

Or maybe I don’t. Maybe, just maybe, with a little patience and the will to understand, forgive and grieve, I can do this on my own.

And just maybe, so can you.

Lot’s of love,

 

Vikki xx