Priiiiide

I made this friend a whiiile back. It's a twisty-turny and unbelievable story. But I might explain it someday. A series of coincidences, basically. And disturbing similarities.. Anyhow I (half-jokingly) suggested this friend came down to go to Thanet Pride with me.. And.. They did! But gosh as soon as I saw her step off the train..

Fabulous dykey person, came to pride with me, delicious, delicious.

And a wonderous friend called Elton also came.

And my very very good friend Becky came.

Photos here.

There were many cute girls.

I overheated a lot.

I perved.

I drank too much.

I found Lee ridiculously attractive and couldn't resist.

Blah

So.. Manymanythings.

I feel kind of sick and shy and cringy and in pain - I'm sick of people calling me by my birth name, or referring to me as She. I know it's not their fault - I'm not out to the people doing it - but it does make me feel terrible.

Additionally I'm tired of this boyfriend who doesn't really care about me.

"You're just ruining our relationship."

"You just don't care about me, do you?"

"You were happy before, you just need to go back to being my girlfriend and you won't even care."

Yes, thank you dearest, because you've lived inside my head how long? And last time I cried or allowed my sad emotions to show and how you just got angry with me and called me stupid really helped us bond, honest. Fuck you.

Fuck you and your calling me stupid, fuck you and your moods, fuck you and your paranoia, pessimism, and laziness. Fuck you, you fucking drain on my funds, who doesn't even sign on, clean, shop, wash clothes, or wash up.

Fuck you and your addiction to computer games that are online and cost me money.

Fuck you and your constant assertion that buying £20 food from Iceland is better than wandering around real butchers, grocers, and fishmongers.

Fuck you and telling me I don't need something I want.

Fuck you for trying to tell me what I want.

Just generally fuck you, you fucking piece of shit fuck.

I can't kick you out, because despite your issues, I love you, and want to be with you and laugh with you and watch Star Trek and play guitar and make raptor noises and dance like a crazed loon and make endless endless references to obscure scenes in movies and games and programs. I want to look at your beautiful long blonde hair and how it curls around your face at the edges of your jaw and merges with your ginger beard. I want to nom on your freckly lovely skin and ruffle the blonde fuzz of your happy trail or chest, I want to laugh at you checking your hair before we go out, I want to discuss the minutia of the items in some game we're playing, mock each other's music taste, play with each other's wibbly parts, randomly grab each other and dry-hump your butt. Also, where would you go? You'd go mad if you had to deal with the council and shit. Would you refuse to go, freak out, break shit?

This place in my guts is all twisted and hurting and you dinnae care.

Letter to My Mother

A letter to my mother. I'll never send her this.. But I had to get it out of my head before I get stupid and send her a PM on Facebook or some shitty stupid thing like that.

I desperately want to tell you, mother.

But what if you cry and scream and mourn the loss of 'your little girl', the little girl you never had. I'm still me, I'll just be getting rid of these terrible things. You know what I mean, you also find them annoying, but you like being female.. You liked having a little girl and you disliked having a little boy (my brother).

I need to be there. But at the same time I am a coward and I don't want to see what you do. I don't want to wake in the night to your crying in your nightmare, and worry every night that this time, the nightmare is about me.

I love you, mother.

I'm not your little girl, though. You knew tomboy never cut it. You never cared that I slept with women - you just wouldn't do it yourself.

You never tried to make me wear dresses or have long hair or play with makeup.. You never forced boundaries on lovers or friends or books or games - you just taught me, gave me logical boundaries, and let me grow.

I'm sorry I left when I was nine. I couldn't handle the way you took the breakup with dad. I couldn't handle seeing you cry or scream or tear your hair out in great black clumps in the middle of your kitchen.

I'm sorry that I'm so uncomfortable, the further I get out into the world, that I need to adjust myself. I know you taught me my whole life to follow my heart, and do what makes me happy - An it harm none, do what ye will - I remember, mother. I hope this doesn't hurt you. I worry that it will. I love you.

I know you understand how I can't look at myself in the mirror - but you have different reasons. I don't see me, I see this person that has my head, my hands, but the rest doesn't fit with how I see myself, how I saw myself.

You know I've always hated that I'd grow up to be female. You remember how my whole life I said I wanted my womb removed. You remember how I was always a guy in D&D, in other games, at play. You know me, you know I'm not comfy.

Please please accept me. You gave me life, and a mind, you gave me computers and language, theatre, logic, science, herb and vegetable info. You made me who I am, but somehow I ended up in the wrong shape.. I think I've always known that, even if I never realised why.

Now I know I can fix it. I can be myself, get rid of the dissonance, get rid of the confusion and hatred and horror.

I can be free.

But I need you, mother.

I love you.

I'm sorry.

Nightmare

I had another nightmare.

This one was more detailed and intense.

...Means I'm sleeping better though, right?

I think what brought it on was yesterday.. First time someone who knows me ONLY as Ethan has seen me without my binder. That would be the cute girl upstairs (and her friend). My boyfriend had run to the shop on the corner, to buy ice cream, and left our inner front door open (the door to our flat, not the one onto the street). The girl from upstairs came down to go out (with her friend) and poked her head in, asking if everything was okay, why was the door open. And I wasn't wearing my binder, as the boyfriend asked me to take it off.. I felt very, very, very uncomfortable..

Additionally yesterday someone finally got the guts ta ask me "Where have your boobs gone?" though I just said "Use your head."

Not ready to be outed at work.

Anyway. The nightmare was just that but worse - somehow I had forgotten my binder, and gone out, and gotten really far away, and had nowhere to go and no way to get rid of them.

It doesn't sound that bad.. But the intensity of that fear and disgust were.. Horrible.

Gods.. I don't want to wait for T.. Or chest surgery.. Not if I keep getting nightmares.. Could I buy the gel online? But I haven't the money.. And you never know what you'll get..

Update

So my doc just called.

She said that it is the local Psychiatric Trust which I need to see, that I should be getting an appointment through the mail, and that they will need to check I 'fit the criteria' and do the referring..

Oddly, it gets worse..

It's strange, but, since I've come out it's gotten way, way worse..

To the extent that I had a nightmare a few days ago (I don't even dream, usually) and yesterday morning I got up to make a cuppah and in my half-asleep state got very confused and upset and scared because I had breasts.. It was that kind of gut-clenching, almost-retching fear.. for a good few minutes until I ran back into the bedroom to grab my binder and a baggy t-shirt.

Additionally, I'm male to all family and friends that I encounter regularly (not my mother, wanna tell her in person and she lives hundreds of miles away) and they refer to me as He and Ethan.. But at work I'm not out.. And it's dreadful. And the boyfriend accepts that I'm going to transition, but it's understandably hard on him, so I don't mind him calling me his girlfriend or my given name.. He needs time, and he is getting better. Apart from calling me selfish now and then, when he's in a bad mood and wants to lash out..

This.. Dissonance between life and work, it does my head in. I know I hardly pass, but somehow having half my world accept it and the other half in the dark is seriously fucking my head up.

I kinda wanna crawl into a time-warp until my first T dose.. I haven't even gotten info back on funding yet, let alone any confirmation that I'll ever get prescribed. I actually hate needles, but for this, I'd take them. However, if possible I'm asking for gel or cream, as the levels are more steady due to the daily application and personally I believe that would be healthier for my body and mind.

I did call my doctor; waiting on a call back..
Crossed fingers, tight chest.


I want to be free.

OUT

I am now out to my parents.
Well, my close parents. My mother doesn't know yet, but she'll be the riskiest, for reasons I will explain shortly.
The letter/note I wrote to my Dad is below, though I hand-wrote it (in small caps) on notepaper.

Dad,

I don't really know how to say shit like this.
I'm transitioning to male.
I'm sorry if this upsets you - I'm not trying to hurt anyone.

I've been doing research into this for seven months or more, since I found out it was possible.
I have trans friends, most notably my mate Dylan who lives in Cornwall, so has lots of relevant advice on transitioning in the UK.

I've been putting off telling you for months.
But I want to finish my Deed Poll and I wanted you to choose a middle name for me (you don't have to, I just wanted you to be involved).

I love you very much, I'm so sorry if this upsets you.

- Ethan <3
PS: I won't change, of course, except I'll become more male in appearance as the hormones take hold, and I'll be happier & more confidant.
PPS: Yes, I want this.
PPPS: Yes, I've thought it all through.
PPPPS: Ask any questions you like, of course, even if they sound stupid.

As usual, his response was the best one could hope for from a parent: "I don't care, as long as you're happy, and safe."

I'm thinking I might laminate the letter. It's a big marker in my life, that letter.
I'm out to the most important family member, the one who I would be completely devastated without. I mean, I'd be devastated at the loss of ANY family member, but my dad is the core of the family - he's calm, intelligent, articulate and umm, the best way to say it would be he has high leadership: He's observant (spots details) and piercing (spots details about PEOPLE, things they try to hide, etc), never rude, trusting whilst not being a fool, has excellent control over his temper...
Basically without him I don't think The Family would be The Family.

Anyhow. I'm out, wheee!

Mother then.. Well mother hated having my brother - "Ew, it's a boy" - and still tends to call me her little girl. She doesn't want us joining the Army (including Navy and Airforce) or the Police, or she'll disown us (us being my brother and I).
She's just.. Difficult. I worry about her.
I'd rather tell her in person, as horrible as that could be, because I want to make sure she doesn't go mental. Because I love her, and I want to protect her and make sure she's happy and safe - she's my mother after all. Without my parents I wouldn't be me. Mother gave me computers and language, plants, herbs, and geekery and books and sci-fi, and slightly old-fashioned manners, Dad gave me spatial awareness, logic, art, music, history, honour, respect. And both gave me a firm belief in magic - not abracadabra stuff, but things like The Secret, positive reinforcement, trusting that we ourselves control our destinies.

I'm babbling now, and must get back to work.
Oh, work. Well, my mate in stores knows (took that photo, up top, yesterday).
But I don't think they could handle it so I just shan't tell them. They're not exactly PC or H&S compliant, so..
I don't think they'd be rude or anything... I just think it would complicate things for them, and I don't want to confuse my manager, he's an all right bloke.

Anyhow, must dash. :)