Sunday, June 26, 2011

Trans-Hag...

When I first came out and faced the world as the woman that I am I noticed other girls would sort of, cling, to me. And every now and then when I meet new people and they realize I'm transsexual some of the girls will become quite...enthusiastic.

What I quickly realized was - They thought of me as a gay man. They seemed hopeful of a Will and Grace type relationship developing between us. I guess those hags thought they had finally found their very own fag...until they realized I wasn't checking out the guy at the bar, I was checking out his girlfriend.

Sometimes I act a little exaggeratedly feminine. Because it's fun. And I do seem to 'pass' a little better somehow. When I do get into these, moods, I notice some girls, usually acquaintances, kinda slip into the hag space a little bit and start acting a little, familiar. Maybe not quite getting into the whole fag hag territory but a little more intense than our established "I've met you like 3 times, I like your hair" relationship.

Maybe I'm wrong, maybe there can be a successful lesbian tranny/hag relationship similar to the fag/hag relationship. But I'm pretty sure the dynamic would be a little different between a girl and her lesbian tranny than a girl and her gay.

What do you think...can a trans-hag exist?

PS. my mum has noticed girls with this behaviour around me and asked if lesbian trans-girls could actually have a "hag" in their life (yes. she loves Will and Grace, well, Jack and Karen). I couldn't really answer...so I'm asking you guys!

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Getting Hope




When I was younger, for various reasons, I didn't trust the police. At some point I even hated them. So, from the age of about 7 or 8 I trusted almost no one. Until I was about 20...

At this time of my life I was still drunk and high. On this particular morning it was my day off so I was sleeping in. Until I heard a massive
BANG
and the yelling voices of people running through my house. Before I could figure out what anyone was saying or what the hell that noise was...or even pull the covers off myself. My door flew open with two men pointing guns at me yelling all sorts of stuff I couldn't comprehend at that stage. Next thing I knew I was on the ground with my hands being cuffed behind my back with the police asking if there was anyone else in the room or anywhere else in the house. Specifically a little girl about 5 years old...

Apparently someone had anonymously called the police saying a little girl had been dragged into my house fighting and screaming. Later I found out it was an angry ex of mine that made that call (I attract the crazies). The most important thing I eventually learned about this event was that about 10 minutes after my ex made that call, I was already in handcuffs being questioned by the police. As I was laying there contorted on the ground. Hands cuffed with guns pointing at me. Police storming my house searching for some poor little girl...all I could do was smile. For the first time in my life I saw the police doing something right. They didn't hesitate for a second when they thought an innocent child was in danger. They were willing to do anything in their power to make sure they got to her before any harm could be done.

The first thing I did when they un-cuffed me was shake their hands and thank them for what they did...they gave me hope! (also broken doors and a few bruises)

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

It ain't No Choice...


My suede creepers...I heart them!

It's weird for me to hear...

...Why would you chose to be like that? (transgender)

Well that's the thing...I didn't!

It seems it doesn't matter how I tell some people, they just don't seem to understand. That's okay though. They aren't in my shoes, and for a large majority of people, they aren't trying to be hurtful.

So I've decided to make a list of just 3 of the things that challenge me in my life. And hopefully this will illustrate why no one would continue to live as a woman full time if it was just a bit of fun or curiosity or confusion or whatever other reason people believe I'm pretending or choosing.
  • .I used to be a kinda good looking guy, not the greatest looking, but not bad. This is kind of trivial really. It doesn't really matter in the big picture, and I actually hate looking like him. But there are some people that tell me I dress and act as a girl just to get attention from people or so I can get laid. Back then people were attracted to me for more than just what was in between my legs. Now people don't seem to be attracted to me at all, just my junk. In my opinion I'm quite an ugly woman (I look like a dude), but for me - being an ugly, ill proportioned, lumpy, woman is indescribably better than being an attractive...man.
  • .Whenever I leave the privacy of my house I'm almost immediately mocked. People don't care. They stare, they laugh and they say the most nasty things. It doesn't sound like much but it breaks my heart some days. Some people are very aggressive and others use a more passive approach to mock me. It might be as simple as someone making a point of calling me "Sir" or "Mr" even though I'm wearing a dress and I've told them my name is Sophie. It might be as obviously hurtful as someone stopping me in the street and yelling out "You're a fucking MAN...fucking FREAK". And it's not just loud mouthed yobbos (bogans / white trash / redneck) either, it's from all types of people you might come across, even people from the larger queer community. I've even been publicly outed and mocked by the police when I approached them after someone tried to attack me.
  • .Being physically attacked has become just another part of my daily life. From memory,  as a transgender person I'm about 60% to 80% more likely to be murdered than a Cis-gendered person in any situation. From my experience, I truly believe it's only a matter of time before one of these people succeeds in raping and killing me. On average I'm violently attacked at least once a month sometimes with the intention of sexual assault. Usually by a lone, intoxicated man. Usually within 5 minutes of where I live. Sometimes with people just watching. Once with a group of people laughing at me. For now, I'm happy to say I've been lucky and I've been able to get away without much injury (maybe a bruise and a few scratches)
There isn't a person in this world that would chose to live like this. But there are a lot of people that don't have a choice. We can't go on pretending and living our lives in our "genetic gender" so we do what we can to live our lives as ourselves, in our true gender.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Un - Easy...

People are often surprised to hear about my romantic life...well, lack of one.

me and my MOfriggen pink knife...in my front yard...

What, because I'm a tranny I must be a whore?

Actually, I'm kind of a prude...unless I'm in a relationship, then I get all monogamously slutty. But that's only happened a couple of times...literally. Sure I've dated a few people, but I never do much with someone I'm just beginning to "date". Dating for me is more like that initial flirtatious period that people go through trying to figure out if they are actually attracted to each other when they first meet. Most people get through this process from within a few moments to a couple of hours. With me it could last a couple of weeks. Basically, unless you have admitted, we're in a relationship or there's a possibility of one, you ain't getting much from me.

In no way do I think other people should be like me. There was a period I tried being a bit more promiscuous, back when I was still discovering sexuality...and my hormones had control. But I just couldn't go through with it, even when I was really drunk and drugged up. Something about me just can't do anything unless I actually care about the person and there is at least the possibility of...something...developing.

Sometimes I envy and even admire more promiscuous people. With my often selfish love of being alone, sometimes for extended periods, it doesn't seem fair to expect someone to tip toe along with me with no more promise than the possibility of something. To expect them to at first be so patient and then deny any access to me for indeterminable periods of time is cruel. The selfishness and cruelty is partly why it has been so long since I've allowed myself this possibility.

Weirdly, I'm apparently a really big flirt. Or as some people put it; a tease. But I genuinely have no idea I do this. According to some of my oldest friends, I've been this way since I was about 13. And at the time, it brought the reputation of being a ladies...person. Almost all the guys thought I was sleeping with, well, all the girls (and some thought I was sleeping with all the other guys). For some reason, a few of the girls actually spread the rumours themselves. But I hardly ever purposely flirt with someone and when I do, it just doesn't come across as anything but awkwardness.

The truth is, I haven't been in a relationship since I was about 19 (or 20, I can't really remember). At first it was because I had had enough of being in a relationship and at the same time I was trying to deal with being a parent. Then it became more of a conscious decision. I knew I wouldn't be able to live as a guy for much longer and I would eventually need to transition. Becoming involved with someone while going through that would be beyond selfish. So I made the decision to be alone.

Years had gone by and I felt I was doing the right thing. It only took a few months to get used to the idea, for it to become normal. Then I progressed in my transition into living as a woman, full time...

At that point even my doctors seemed increasingly concerned with my lack of relationships outside my family and friends. Every time I visit one of them, we have a mini relationship counselling session. Sure, I expect it from my psych. But being asked so incessantly by my other doctors it made me think...

it can't be that important...can it?

So, eventually I decided to lift the ban on relationships. There is still no actual effort on my part but I have made an effort to not completely alienate anyone that shows even a minute glimpse of interest in me. The ban has been lifted for a while now, maybe just over a year, but it has recently become apparent to me that I haven't really lifted the shield. Well, sorta...it's more like my radar isn't aligned any more. I just don't realize if someone is actually interested and I inadvertently reject them. Unless they are being blindingly obvious.

Which a lot of people are...

Which makes me think I might have to put the shields back up again. The forwardness of people doesn't really bother me. It's just the nature of these forward peoples interest that does. For the most part the interest comes from curious men. Which is a problem for a few reasons -

  1. I don't like guys...
  2. I don't do casual / one night stands
  3. Their interest is directed toward one thing. My unwanted inch. The part of me symbolising everything I hate about myself and about my life. The reason I cry everyday. The reason my life feels so hard I often catch myself wishing it would end. The thing they want the most from me is the thing that causes me the most pain I've ever felt.
As far as I can tell, it's also the exact same reason any women are interested in me too. So, you know...no!

Lately things are changing; more and more I'm having moments of loneliness. Not always, but every now and then I'll be doing something, or maybe nothing. It might even be the most insignificant moment and I'll be hit with the realization...

I'll probably be alone forever. So maybe it's time to really open up to the possibility of not being alone...

Monday, February 28, 2011

Perma-Child...


Me at 3...

As much as I'd like to, and as much as I know I need to...I don't think I'll ever really grow up!

It could be because I always forget how old I am. Not only do I forget how old I am, I forget I'm not 19 any more.
AND
I even forget when my birthday is...a few years ago I walked into my mums place. It was all decorated with balloons and streamers and all sorts of silly awesome things, and I asked
"what's going on...who's party..."
They thought I was joking, until I asked again 15 minutes later.

Maybe it's because I'm stuck. When I was about 18 I completely shut down, more than I had ever done before. My dreams and everything I was working toward were pushed aside while I abandoned myself. Yes, I still made it to classes and went to work. But I wasn't living my life. I was only just existing...for a very long time. Ever since I decided to start living again, it feels like I've been trying too hard to catch up with myself and learn how to live again.

It's not like I'm completely irresponsible. I do know how to behave like an adult. And my body is breaking down, so I'm not really able to go out and rage like I'm still a kid any more. But I'm sure I'm not as grown up as I should be.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe my perceptions of myself, the way I wish I was and the way I think I should be in this stage of my life are just really warped. Maybe it doesn't really matter if I ever grow up or not...I dunno. For now I'll keep wearing my bright pink skinny jeans and sequinned 5inch heals and run around at punk gigs with youngsters that seem half my age wearing half as much makeup as me...and I'll like it!

Monday, February 14, 2011

gettin' a little happy messing around taking pics of myself while skateboarding

Everyday I wake up sad. About all sorts of things. About nothing. It's just the way I am. But everyday I make a point of finding at least one reason to smile. The reason can be silly, beautiful, funny or comforting. It doesn't really matter what the reason is, as long as I smile. Because as long as I can find a reason to smile, I know that day isn't going to be that bad.

The thing that hurts me the most about being sad, is everyone that cares about me wants to help. But they can't. As much as I try to mask it, I know I can't really hide my true sadness. Every time I see them notice, I can see them hurting...because of me

So everyday...

I wake up sad

then

I find a reason to smile

and

I try to be happy...

I swear, I really am trying to be happy

Friday, February 4, 2011

Vanity...


Gorgeous burlesque performer, rushing around, behind the scenes!


Since beginning life as my true self, I've slowly become more and more concerned with my looks. Which used to be completely out of character for me...

Before transitioning I was obviously unhappy with myself physically, but my looks didn't matter much to me, if at all. Sure, I've always known my nose looks as if I bought it from a veteran boxing champion, especially after being asked for the billionth time how I broke it, and nothing about me is symmetrical, especially not my face. But for some reason it just didn't matter to me, in fact I spent much of my life trying to make myself uglier so I wasn't always being picked on for being "pretty". Maybe having an unwanted inch distracted me from caring about any other unfortunate physical traits I possessed?!


For as long as I remember I've never looked as I'm supposed to look. But the longer I live as a woman, the more I actually hate the way I look. Almost every moment I have certain thoughts in the back of my mind...
My nose is too big and crooked. My brow belongs to a Neanderthal. My eyes...My jaw...My Adams apple...My shoulders...My arms...My...
It's tiresome and I hate it.
My life isn't supposed to be consumed by the way I look. I'm not supposed to be planning plastic surgery just so I can look pretty...especially when what I want is impossible. Sure, it's possible to trim my unwanted junk and straighten up my nose. But it's impossible for anyone to grind enough of my face off to make me look like the woman I see myself as. And besides growing itty-bitty-boobies, it's impossible for me to have the body of a genetic woman.

People are sweet though. All my friends and family constantly assure me I'm pretty and feminine and whatever. But as much as I want to, I just don't believe them.I tell myself things like... 
"they're too close to me" or "they're too kind and can't bring themselves to be completely honest". 
And I'm sure whenever they complement me and my femininity they think "...for a guy" at least subconsciously. Which just isn't good enough for me any more. I don't want to be pretty compared to other trannies and drag queens or "for a dude". 

There have been countless sleepless nights that I've spent trying to figure out 
Why? 
Why am I suddenly obsessed with the way I look...as I'm typing this I'm finally asking myself...
Is it because of everybody else?
Whenever I leave my house, I know; Someone is going to stare. Someone is going to laugh. Someone is going to ask me, their friend or even a complete stranger... 
"is that a guy or a girl" 
Whenever I leave my house I think; It would be nice to feel safe enough to go out without angry people trying to beat me up or rape me or kill me just because I'm trans...

Whatever the reason I suddenly became so obsessed with beauty, whether it's simple vanity or self preservation or something completely different, I know...
I don't like it!
It's always upset me to see people unhappy with the way they look, because I've never seen someone who thought they weren't beautiful enough, that wasn't beautiful...