Saturday, December 31, 2011

A year of Firsts

In 1959 when I was 13 and my life became an open book to everyone there were some amazing and painful firsts. There was that first kiss from a boy and his acceptance as a girl. Almost immediately after that was our family version of European Vacation which in some ways rivaled the National Lampoon's European Vacation starring Chevy Chase in its weirdness for me.

I flew as a boy to London or putting it more aptly was signed in as a boy for the flight which started the weirdness. When I handed my boarding pass over the poor Stewardess looked confused and gave me a rather strained smile.  My brother Ray did not help things by calling me sis which the poor Stewardess who served us in the Upper Crust section kept looking at me and I knew she wanted to ask are you a girl because boy was not working.

This was my first time on a Airplane and I was fascinated by planes and rockets and space and flying by then.  About halfway to London it dawned on me my poor mom was looking at me rather weirdly and I would later learn it was mom's moment of awareness concerning me. When I went to the genderless toilets all airplanes possess I was told the men all watched me walk up the Upper Crust aisle. Ray had told me I had a little wiggle in my walk but it was just how I was.  Like everything in my life it seemed to fly over my head in the consuming gloom I was in over my unknown transsexualism.

It got weirder at Immigration in London when mom quietly said she was on vacation with her three sons.  Ray and Steve passed fine but that poor man took one look at me and even though the picture and me were the same he decided this was just not right. In those old passports you actually had to look carefully to find the sex marker.  It was my first name that confused him. He spent seconds looking around and found the M and it started.

Ray did not help by calling me "sis" as he tried to calm me down because I never did handle this kind of scene too well. They finally ushered us off to a private area where my mom cleared things up with some comment about "the condition I was in being the result of the condition I had" which flew over my head. She actually knew I was transsexual from Benjamin. Mom was getting a first hand look at life as me from the perspective of a very concerned observer and being a smart woman she decided the vacation would be a disaster if it kept going like this.

We were flying to Scotland and when I went to board the plane my boarding pass identified me differently. She simply said "I think it would best for all if we do it this way when flying" and that was it. It was easy because she just shortened ny real first name and told them I was a girl which met the approval of the view of me they had.

The vacation was wonderful because eventually it seemed mom realized it was futile to insist I was a boy. She even gave me a girl haircut in Paris which transformed me. When we came home in mid to late July after 4+ weeks in Europe I looked different and in all honesty felt better about myself. I admit I loved the attention boys gave me in Italy.  When you are 13 in our condition and boys are pinching you butt and whistling at you and your mom it can be life affirming. I think I had a permanent smile in Italy.

In Italy I also saw the first people that might be like me which can best be described as something out of a Chaplin movie. It was around 9 PM and we were in a cab heading back to the hotel and Ray was asking the cabbie for a sight seeing tour and that meant money so we were driving around.  His English was broken but passable and as we went around a roundabout he casually mentioned that the girls on the corner were actually pretty boys or travesti and that peeked my attention. I wondered if any were like me cause they sure looked pretty good in the dark. That went over like a lead balloon and we returned to the hotel.

Mom explained they were not like me in our shared room. That was the other thing on this trip.  I got to share a room with my mom like a daughter would. It really was the changing of the tide. She was very patient answering my deluge of questions and actually bought me some girls slacks and tops in Paris plus undergarments with the express understanding wearing these at home was risky. Risk was my middle name or should have been. I did wish she had bought me a dress but I did not push it.

When I got home I was worried that Kevin would just forget about me since I was not a "real" girl and the next day after landing at Logan we arranged to meet. It is so different for girls. I have always been shy and most men I have known tell me it is my "little girl" quality that attracts them. I was actually shaking when I rang the door bell and fully expected Kevin to reject me or be cold.

His first words were something about my hair being different and he really liked the look and I think I lost containment on the little girl part of me because if recollection serves me correctly I do believe I was the one that launched my 5'-8' and 120 pounds into the arms of that gorgeous 6'-4'  130 pound body and his waiting arms. It seemed he had not forgotten me.

After a while he took my hand, I love holding hands, and took me to the garage where his father had left him the use of his Corvette.  I firmly believe it was this first meeting with a Corvette that fueled my lifelong love affair with Corvettes. The top was down and we headed south and were soon on a road that ended on a sandy beach in Duxbury Massachusetts.  It is one of the most beautiful areas of the coast line with the added feature of homes sitting off shore on top of rocky areas.  The tide was still going out and the homes seemed to crop out of the ocean.  It was mesmerizing and the wonderful smell of the ocean and the sandy beach is quite beautiful. I have been told many of those homes have been washed away by some of the big storms.

It was my truly first unofficial date with Kevin. I was in a girl heaven that I had only dreamed of. We walked along the beach and as the tide receded the clam diggers seemed to come out of nowhere with their claws as fresh clams where dug and placed in buckets. I loved fried clams from Howard Johnson's on Wollaston Beach but had never tasted fresh clams. Kevin stopped and we talked with several clam diggers with his arm casually placed around my shoulder. On the way back he bought some fresh clams from one of the men we had talked with.

He went to the Corvette and brought out the picnic cloth and the food I knew was there and we had a picnic. The fresh clams with lemon right from the shell were amazing and I had a permanent smile it seemed. He actually commented he had never seen me smile this much. For years afterward I had dreams about that day.  I dreamed of owning one of those homes that could be isolated by a high tide and making love with him every day we were there and isolated.  Just a girl's dreams of perfection and bloss that were not to be but I had them long after he died in Southeast Asia.

We went there several more times and that was the happiest summer of my life. That first day he ha chased me around the sand because I might be the most ticklish person alive and I got sand everywhere and I admit I loved his hands helping me get it off me. I got home late and there were more than a few raised eyebrows when he drove up to my house and let me out. It would have been the perfect date if he had leaned in and kissed me before I exited the car but we kissed goodbye before we got to my neighborhood.

I went to my room to change and thankfully my younger brother was elsewhere so I locked the door for some privacy. A knock and a voice told me my mother was there and I let her in and that was the day she looked me in the eyes and asked me "do you have a boyfriend" instead of the obligatory "do you have a girlfriend" or the true meaning "do you finally have a girlfriend". I didn't respond immediately but managed a weak "no" and she patted my knee and kissed me on the forehead and told me supper was in ten and sweep the floor. It was then I noticed the significant amount of sand I had deposited from my discarded cloths. I believe in my heart I knew she knew and was okay with it but that is hard to accept for kids like us.  I scolded myself and told myself I had to be more careful. She knew everything only I didn't know she knew everything.

Ray and Kevin both had licenses and dad had taught us all golf and Kevin played and it never dawned on me till decades later Ray brought Kevin along when we played golf so Kevin and I could be together. We usually went to Canton Massachusetts and played the championship course #1 course at Pongkapoag  which is a 1936 gem designed by the renowned Donald Ross. I was told to play the girls tees while the boys played the back markers. It is a macho thing. We had tons of fun and even Steve mentioned he thought Kevin liked me which to Steve was weird.

It was a very weird year. Even my grandmother seemed to back off when we returned from vacation. Well she was still nasty at times but not as nasty as she could be. Ironically High School was both far better and far worse if that makes sense. Everyone knew I either thought I was a girl or wanted to be a girl so the physical issues just seemed to vanish. I still received the weird looks and stares in the corridors between classes but more often than not a smile seemed to replace the smirk or snarl of the previous year. There were some bad instances but they were isolated but they still hurt.

The worst part and the most painful was seeing Kevin.  It was football time so I tutored him and the only day we had any chance to be alone was on Sunday and that meant Sunday afternoon because he went to Mass on Sunday morning. My Sunday was free because I had been thrown out of Sunday School and the Church for asking the Minister what gave him the right to teach me about god.  He had no answer and I called him a hypocrite and a few other adjectives and verbs he seemed to not understand, no swear words, and like Ray I was free from the religious mumbo jumbo of church and sat and watched ten pin bowling and the three stooges with my brother.  Somehow the similarity works when I think about it. Organized religion verses the Three Stooges.  The Stooges made more sense and Ray and I laughed ourselves sick together with the occasional Marx Brothers comedy thrown in for added hilarity.

It was on one of those Sunday mornings that Ray looked at me and said, "you like Kevin don't you?" I was going to cry and he said something about it is okay and I admitted I liked him and that was that.  He seemed to understand and casually said he thought Kevin really liked me. It must be mentioned that although Kevin and ray played for separate High Schools they had been  friends for years so Ray knew his friend.

The worst part of High School was watching the other girls fawning over Kevin.  It drove me stark raving mad. Every tutoring session we had I would list every fault a particular girl had while forgetting I had the biggest flaw of all. He would roll his eyes and I would get over it but start immediately the next tutoring session. As I approached my 14th birthday my body seemed to be getting weirder by the day.  I do thank my mom for not listening to the docs that recommended testosterone. I owe her a big hug when we meet in heaven, assuming I make it there and praying it exists.

I went to all his local football games on Saturday and I so wanted to be a cheerleader. I knew every cheer both Cheerleader squads used and I day I told Ray I could be a cheerleader and he laughed and I proceeded to do an entire routine including the gymnastics and flips and split and he calmly looked at me and sad, "Don't ever do that again or someone might see", which was to protect me and added, "you were great by the way" to soothe the rejection. It just seemed another injustice in my life. I would have gotten beaten to death if other boys had seen me do that. I still remember all the cheers for both High Schools. I so wanted to wear a cheerleader outfit.

There was a horrific suicide attempt brought about by my last sessions with  ashrink where I had opened up and told him I had a boyfriend who loved me as a girl and he said things to me that drove me near the end of the short bridge my psyche was on and with a nudges from some relatives on our Thanksgiving I tried to attempt suicide not with pills but a method that if I made the attempt was certain death. Kevin stopped me but I ended up nearly doing myslef in when I got extremely ill from being so wet and cold.  It was the beginning of the end of the secrecy surrounding Kevin and me.

The other first was threefold. I learned I was transsexual in late December, I met my savior Dr. Benjamin, and I started female hormones. By the end of this year of firsts there would be no turning back.  My ears were pierced and the only thing I could not wear publicly at home was a dress.  I would have done it in a heartbeat but there were some lines one did not cross in 1959 and that was one of them.

It was the year that changed my life in save my life. It happened because I did something stupid that led to that first kiss that led to so many other things it started that snowball down the hill that turns into the avalanche that helped me push my way to SRS. There are turning points in life for everyone and the one thing that is common in many kids like I was then and those like me today was once the door was cracked we pushed our way through come hell or high water.

Now for a mini rant.

If you think it is easy to expose yourself to the ridicule and hatred of being so different you are wrong. It is never easy but we kids did it because we had no choice.  We could not be what we were not.  Whether it was because we were what Harry referenced as Psycho Sexual Inversion or stubborn we just knew it could not be as it was because we could not survive. In my time one could not go to school as a girl but many of us pushed the boundaries and paid for it in different ways.

Kids today have the chance to grow up as girls. Going through a female puberty on hormones is wonderful. Even with that hideous thing we were born with watching the curves form and your breasts bud is intoxicating because it is what all girls go through. It lifts your spirits and gives you the hope you need for the future. I was smart and educated but I have friends that left home at 13 or 14 and worked some nasty shit jobs to get hormones and SRS.  Nothing was beneath them if it meant the goal was closer.

I am appalled when I read bloggers or those that comment whine they cannot afford SRS.  What it usually means is they are not willing to work for it. Usually they want an NHS system to pay for it. I have a close friend that had an amazing career but she buried herself in booze but woke up around 30 and realized what was happening and walked away from some amazing talent and moved far far away eventually just to be a very normal girl, woman, wife, and friend.

It is this need and desire that separates us from the want-to-be transsexuals who are truly not transsexuals. In my time it was actually an issue getting SRS.  It was down right dangerous and a crap shoot at best. Today the surgeons are amazing and experts at SRS, from Meltzer to Bowers the results are impressive.

As for costs it was on a pay basis far more expensive to have surgery in 1971 than it is today.  My surgery was $4K on a discount, we were his first, plus 2 weeks in the Hospital which in my case was close to another $3500 or more. In 1970 the average salary was $7, 564 or the cost of my surgery. In 2010 is $41, 673 and SRS is now tax deductible and it was not in 1971. The average cost is in the $20,000 range including hospital time from someone like Marci Bowers. That is 50 perecnt cheaper than 1971 on a average salary basis.

I just cannot picture any person that believes they are or want to be a girl/woman that could accept keeping a penis as a viable alternative unless surgery was denied for medical reasons. Does make one wonder what they really are because it is not truly transsexual.

Friday, December 30, 2011

I Few More Rants and Pet Peeves

Something caught my eye about breast implants in Sweden and I ended up reading an article that enlightened me or more accurately made me kind of laugh out loud. I never realized how beneficial breast implants were. Do you realize breast implants actually save lives? Actually according to The Local (Sweden's News in English) it saves the lives of the transgendered. It seems the suicide rate among the transgendered denied implants is 30-40 percent according to the article in The Local.

I believe those suicide statistics are absurd because any transsexual that would commit suicide after SRS because they did not have big enough boobs is stark raving mad or totally insane. Even considering the simple fact the Swedes seem to enjoy committing suicide based on statistics the 30-40 percent seemed odd but I was shocked to read some of the supposed problem transgendered considered themselves half man and half woman. I have actually never heard a rational transsexual ever say that.

There are some circumstances that need to be added.  It seems some regions in Sweden will actually pay for implants and the case mentioned here came about because someone was denied her new big boobs. It also turns out a high percentage of those claiming suicide attempts were not post SRS. I guess the men in dresses have a new tactic to get those big boobs they so covet. Claim suicide was attempted is the new plan.

The pathetic part of this is it cheapens those individual lives that have actually been touched by suicide attempts. I forgot to mention that the percentages are not based on actual documented attempts but claims of suicidal thoughts which is a classic example of some fool learnig another narrative in order to get his boobs.

I actually know what damage an actual suicide attempt does to the people around you and this bullshit from Sweden is beneath contempt. The reason I say this is total bullshit is because people that actually attempt suicide usually end up in a psych ward even in Sweden. Suicide is not attempted because your boobs are not big enough. Suicide is attempted because the feeling of desperation that life will remain as painful as it currently is.  It is quite high in transsexual children but even in my time frame it absolutely never approached 30-40 percent as claimed here.

If you Google and search a little you will find some pictures and my only recommendation is be sure you have not eaten before viewing them.  The Transgender crowd has issues in Sweden.

Another pet peeve of mine is the fool who runs the TransGriot blog or Monica Roberts. If anyone says a single negative thing about anyone that is a minority anywhere in the world it is racism. Her new rant is about Janet Jackson and PETA. I cannot say I agree with everything People for Ethical Treatment of Animals or PETA believe in but I do agree 100% the real fur used in clothing is just plain wrong in the modern world. I do agree that people have their right to disagree over this point but Roberts is now claiming in this post that PETA is attempting to hide its racism towards Janet Jackson because they were critical of her wearing and promoting furs.

In her article she uses a photo of a rally where PETA compares animal slaughter to racism and slavery. Personally it was and is in very poor taste but the analogy is unfortunately quite accurate because slaves were animals to many of the slave owners and were slaughtered as such if they got out of line. Wearing KKK outfits is kind of pathetic but they were certainly not being racist towards anyone. If poor taste and bad manners were a crime then the TransGriot blog would be a permanent felony.

Criticizing Janet Jackson for wearing fur is not racist. I know people in PETA and they are zealots about protecting animals from harm and they do cross the line sometimes but they are not racist.

In another post Roberts crossed a line of mine. In stop-looking-at-being-trans-as-curse Roberts claimed being trans was a blessing.  She then claims of course she wishes she was born a female or had a life like Kim Petras yet Roberts keeps her beloved penis and actually calls it her 7 inch neo clit. I am sure her boyfriends just enjoy it as she claims.

Anyone that was born transsexual and believes this nightmare is a blessing was not born transsexual.  It does not get any simpler than that. I have never met a transsexual that did not want to get this crap behind them and just be able to live as they should have been. She then goes on to state she would be missing out on this amazing life she has now. I guess being a man in a dress with a 7 inch penis, oops neo-clit, makes life interesting and enjoyable but it does not make Roberts transsexual.  It just makes Roberts another reason transgender is not a term or umbrella most transsexuals want anything to do with.

Roberts had a post earlier in December titled Chasing Pseudo Cisprivilege which claims we separatists are chasing privileges that genetic women have by birth. In a way Roberts is both correct and incorrect which she is an apparent expert at. Roberts comes at this view of women from the very framework she claims some separatists come from. Roberts was a man for so long and technically still is because she has a penis and likes it that she has of course missed the entire reason those born transsexual fight this nightmare so hard.

Quite simply we are girls and all we want to be is girls and we are willing to take the good with the bad and believe me if you worked for 40+ years as a female in Corporate America you understand the bad.  The good is we get to be the girls we are. We all know we were born male but what is important to us is mentally we are female and the physical side needs to match the mental side. This is not an issue for Roberts because Roberts never really wanted to be female because Roberts likes her penis.

I was never a victim and have never had a desire to be a victim. Basically I look at my life in a very positive way. I think I won. I cured the birth defect and have lived my entire adult life as a woman and have basically been a girl since I was 14. I took big risks and pushed boundaries as many others like me did and are. I just wanted to be normal. To me normal was just being a girl.

I do not need nor want any special privilege because i was born transsexual because I am no longer transsexual. Only a man could look at women and believe they have privilege. Well I guess it is privilege that they get to wear pretty cloths, menstruate, get pregnant, clean house, raise children and get dumped for a younger woman. I certainly would have gladly accepted all that, except getting dumped, as would every transsexual I know would.

The problem with Roberts is the very problem she claims transsexual separatists have. She lived too long as a man and is still a man and she wants all of us that beat this nightmare to support her need to dress as a woman and keep her penis along with the special privileges she deserves for being trans.

The key to me is all I wanted was to be accepted as a girl and then a woman however that happens. I wanted no safety net I just wanted to make my way through life as the girl I should have been. I knew it was not going to be easy but being accepted by society as a woman was very important to me. I believe it is very important to MTF transsexuals in general.The simple truth is it life as a woman is not easy.

I was actually lucky to go through this when I did in some ways. To the best of my knowledge every single record that could identify me as being born male has been changed and that includes school at all levels and everywhere I worked. That is not easy today.

What I want to see is not special privilege because I was born transsexual but legal acceptance that I am now a woman. It makes everything simple then. I will accept male attempts to discriminate against me because I am female.  I fought for my rights as a female many times over the years. If we are accepted legally as women then everything else is gravy in my humble opinion.

The problem we transsexuals have is people like Roberts and Sandeen passing themselves off as transsexual and claiming they are women even though they have a penis. Society will never accept that as a norm. These fools want us to accept them as women and thus usurp our claims that we are women in order to promote their penis as being acceptable female anatomy.If you keep the penis you are a man. Those are the cold hard facts.

The cold hard fact for us is legal acceptance as women is only possible if we disappear into society and just "live" as women. It is funny how that works. As long as you act and behave in an acceptable manner society will accept you as a woman. It is that joy of just being another girl or woman that drives most MTF transsexuals. I  was discriminated against because I was a woman not transsexual. If that is not what you want out of life then I would suggest trying another path.

Roberts and her ilk want everyone to know they are trans because being trans gives some pathetic meaning to their life which correlates directly to Robert's belief being born trans was a blessing. My blessing was SRS and my life as just another woman in society with all the ups and downs that life has brought me was the gift it gave me.

Roberts is a professional victim. She wants to be viewed as a victim. Roberts actually believes she is a victim. It is funny how that clouds reality. The really sad part is Roberts is exactly what she screams about.  Robert's is a racist. Robert's coined the term WWBT or White Women Born Transsexual. She uses it in derogatory comments yet considers herself a victim and others a racist. She is racist against any black that disagrees with her view on life and finds it necessary to put them down.  Can you imagine her outrage if what she said about Herman Cain was said about Obama? She needs to read this article but then she could read Lincoln's Gettysburg Address and see it as racist.

Personally I wish she would give herself one of her Shut Up Fool Awards but then that would require Robert's to realize how foolish it is to keep a penis and claim womanhood. I am sure those men that she claims enjoy her 7 inch neoclit were really looking for a "woman" you fool!!!

I wish her no ill will but Shut Up Fool comes to mind when I think of her.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

This blog, pains in the ass, and pet peeves.

There are times I wonder why I bother. Like most I am not adverse to saying and posting stupid things but since this is my blog I reserve the right to do that. Like all of you I am a flawed human being. Being flawed is part of the human experience. Our flaws are why many people strive desperately to discover some kind of spiritual meaning to our seemingly short physical existence. There has to be something else besides this because we all recognize the flaws evident in everyday society. It is what has driven man to religions of all forms.

My opinions are mine and are based on my experience in a life I never thought I would get to live as a child. I know I was born transsexual but firmly believe I was cured in early 1971. I am not a victim nor am I believer that this medical condition should control your entire life.  I know how it consumed me as a child. I was both confused, scared and very angry until I met a Physician that began the process of leading me to my salvation. Salvation might be a strong word for some but to me it was salvation because I was saved. It was a long process that lasted slightly over 11 years do to some unforeseen challenges and setbacks which were not uncommon for us in the predawn era of whatever enlightenment has occurred concerning those of us born transsexual.

After my surgery I never really thought about being born transsexual until some situation reared its ugly face. I failed to tell a man I fell in love with within 6 months of my SRS and paid a very steep price when he somehow found out before I could tell him. I can honestly say I am not sure I really had any idea how to tell him or if I ever would have told him. I was kind of consumed with being the girl I finally was and even after a proposal I gleefully accepted I never really broached the subject of telling him. I was told I should by everyone but being young and in love was so thrilling and life was such pure joy I think I believed it would never end because I deserved this.

I was so happy it just did not seem necessary but living in NYC made it a necessity plus where he worked and who he represented made it imperative but nobody ever said kids like us have a lot of common sense when it comes to dealing with men, love, sex, and other issues. I sometimes wonder would it have been different if I had managed to tell him but I cannot honestly say it would have been. What he said and called me cut to the bone and was both bruising and nasty but I told myself I deserved it but none of us really deserve that.

I sometimes wish I could have just moved to another continent and left everything behind including the silliness of having been born transsexual. The problem with that scenario was leaving behind the many people I cared about such as my mom, brothers, Harry, and lose friends. I have a close friend who did this and succeeded wonderfully because she has had a wonderfully normal life as a woman.

I have actually thought of shutting this blog down but have decided not to. I have been threatened by people like June Hingle who has tried desperately to find out who I am so she can hurt me in theory by exposing my identity. June has threatened another blogger and has caused her to back off. Every time I take moderation off June finds her way back to my blog with her hatred of me. I actually received a rather ugly email from June after she commented on the "First Kiss" post.

June seems to believe that if she makes "nice" people will forgive her for her past comments but I am and never will forgive her for what she has done and said openly and done and said behind the scenes. Quite simply I do not want to be "pals" with June Hingle because I could never trust June Hingle and well she makes the insane seem sane. One minute she is posting vicious comments on any blog comment section where she has not been banned aimed at me and then she is trying to make nice with comments and assuming her make nice makes up for what was said.

One thing I will warn all commentators about is that every comment is logged as an email behind the scenes and is part of blogger if you want so despite the fact she deletes her own comments I have them all going back to day one. I have every comment archived. Her delusions go very deep and she has burned her bridges everywhere on the internet. Few people are as openly shunned as June.

She is banned from commenting on this blog and is the only reason moderation is on. June is the classic example of a sock puppet.  She has more identities than an identity thief. June is not welcome here.

I have a simple philosophy about this condition we were born with. I actually do not give advice about transition or even to those post other than be safe and that includes the sundry kids I have been involved in helping. We talk with them and if asked will possibly give advice but everyone needs to make their way down this path themselves. Every transition is different and thus no two transitions are the same. It is because people are different.

After one is cured everyone has to live their own life. Go stealth if you want to because it is your right to be happy. Be public if you want because that is your right but just remember you represent yourself and nobody voted you the local know it all. This then gets to my pet peeve which has caused some of my posts and rants.

If you have not transitioned then STFU about the difficulties involved in transitioning. You have no freaking clue. Whether you know it or not you are acting like a typical know it all man which in many cases you still are. If you have not had SRS then please do not try and tell those of us that live as women what it means to be a woman.  If you have a freaking penis you will NEVER understand what it means to be a woman. We deal with men as women on a daily basis and I can assure you most of us are as clueless as most women are about men other than realizing most of them are controlled by their penis which means those that kept theirs fall into the same category.

Do not tell me or kids like me you would have done what we did at our ages if given the chance. The problem is quite simply nobody gave us a "chance" we just did it because we could not nor would not continue the way we were. It was our survival mechanism. I never had a gay relationship with all my gay boyfriends like June once threw in my face. I had a boyfriend that loved me as a girl and never pushed it sexually. I had two boyfriends in college after he died and neither pushed it sexually. They knew how I felt about it. Discounting my rape, which i do not remember,  my first experience with sex was when I was 25 1/2 with a man as a free girl in NYC.

I find those that have not walked any of this path but post about it like they have to be pathetic. It is a typically male attitude to believe they know better what it means to be either transsexual or a girl/female/woman. Nothing can or could be farther from the truth but then all those transvestite fantasy magazines with their forced feminization themes give them all that expertise they think they need.

Another pet peeve is the belief by many late transitioners that they are Type VI Benjamin transsexuals.  I am not denying they are transsexual but I can assure you not one single Type VI transsexual ever made it to 50. Total Psycho Sexual Inversion makes it impossible but then that is something they manage to overlook and truly cannot understand because if they did they would not lie to themselves or would memorize a more accurate narrative for the incompetent therapist they intend to fool. All I will add is unless you have lived through that kind of anguish you cannot possibly understand how ludicrous it is to claim at 50+ that you are Type VI because not one of us would wish what we went through on another single living person. I would not wish it on my worst enemy.

Another pet peeve is the lengths that some men will go to get the wife to approve of their transgressions into cross-dressing. Is my pal the "bee-sting transsexual" one of these?  Yes, but Chloe was transsexual to start with IMHO. I was never married to a woman so I gather it must be rough telling the wife and a little subterfuge is often required.

My real pet peeve is A. E. Brain in Australia who claims to both transsexual, intersexed, and a rocket scientist.  Only one of her claims is true. I actually know the person that mentioned to Zoe that she might be intersex based on the wild claims she was making online. Within a few days of this conversation Zoe was intersex and claiming to be 47 XXY despite fathering children which is impossible without fertility aid but why let the facts get in the way. Zoe is also not a Rocket Scientist as she claims because those that know me can attest that I actually was once a Rocket Scientist and Zoe is not. I will give Zoe transsexual because Zoe had SRS but the rest is total bullshit.

Now we get to my newest and best pet peeve. The way child transsexuals are treated in Britain and the absolute insanity of whom and what attempts to claim representation of these kids. I am not going into detail because I am composing a major post on everything and everyone involved from the Portman Clinic to certain  supposed charities and groups supposedly helping kids and one particular idiot transgender clown that goes by the name Natacha and claims to be a researcher involved with children. His claims along with multiple idiots in British government promote the idea that no single person can possibly know they are transsexual when they are young.  They are led by a post FTM whose positions defy description and are directly opposite of everything learned in multiple studies form the Dutch.

The simple truth is they attempt to coerce and push children from getting help and force them to go through a male puberty. According to reliable sources there is not a single documented case of a child even getting on blockers in Britain.  In fact one government official quite openly said parents should go to America for help.  My friend and I have two children in Britain we rescued from this fate who were both denied access to any help. There are multiple sources that will be referenced that back this up.

The worst part is if you bring them to America to Boston Children's all you will get is blockers until sixteen. The key is for the child to go through the puberty of their true sex not delay it and then whether all you current transsexuals realize it or not the estrogen dosage they put you on is so ludicrously low it is ineffective. Thus the need for implants.The reason is that great Hippocratic Oath section that promotes saving your ass or covering your ass and my general belief these people would not know a truly transsexual child if the child bit them in the ass. There is some hope at LA Children's but the key is early hormone intervention. The earlier the better and we can see examples of those results.

Enough rants for now. I need to prepare for my birthday, I count backwards now, and a new year. Happy New Year to all and please subtract one year for me this Saturday.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

That First Kiss

It seems that everyone remembers their first kiss. Some of you have had first kisses from both sides of the spectrum. I was 13 years 5 months and several days old when a boy first kissed me. In retrospect it was the day my life changed forever even though my mom had already found Dr. Benjamin. It was that first kiss that changed everything. I am writing from my personal perspective but I doubt it matters if you are male or female when that first kiss happens. Every teenager dreams of it and hopefully it was as magical as mine was.

I knew I was attracted to this boy because I tutored him 3 or more times a week. He was always kind to me but that defensive shield I had built around my existence to protect me never allowed me to realize he actually treated me like a girl. He opened doors for me if we were entering the Library Study Area in High School.  If I would let him he would pull out my chair for me. None of this and other things flew right by me. I missed the meaning when he told me "you have beautiful eyes" because I thought he was going to hurt me when he caught me staring at him. I should have known he would not hurt me because I stared at him every chance I got. He had to know in retrospect.

At that time I was the freakish kid from the other side of town that was at this particular High School because he was supposedly very smart and this was where the advanced classes were. He actually tried to walk with me in a corridor when switching classes multiple times but I was blind to that. Fear makes you blind to a lot of life and believe me I was scared early in my Sophomore year in High School. Actually terrified might be more accurate. I thought is was because they considered me gay or more aptly a "fag" or "queer" or "faggot" which were words I heard a lot.

I was a pretty boy but in reality there were other boys that were pretty in a feminine way but they never faced the wrath of their fellow males like me, or at least I don't believe they did. In May of 1959 I took an absolutely insane risk. Well, I thought it was a big risk but in my mind if people saw me as the girl I was I just knew they would "let me be a girl". I bet I told my poor mother once a day that, "I am a girl. Why can't you just let me be a girl? I am not hurting anyone. I am a girl.", which was the reason I spent a lot of free time in psychoanalysis with every noted Psychiatrist in the greater Boston area.

I was asked to do something and did it. Actually I was threatened if I did not do it with more bodily harm and when that boy tried to defend me I agreed to do it. It was stupid and very dangerous for my safety but I clearly remember thinking it was a possible win-win for me. It was a win if they saw the real me as a girl and a win if they still hated me and killed me because I had been trying to off myself because I deeply feared looking like either of my brothers. Hairy, muscled, tall, and brawny was not my plan for life. I wanted the soft, curvy, and sexy future. I never considered the difference a kiss would make because why would anyone kiss a freak like me? Only in my dreams.

When the day came one of the boys said to me when he first saw me, "Jesus fucking Christ he is beautiful", and my thought was if only there was an "s" in front of "he" this would be perfect. The whole concept was to hurt someone else but it all went insanely wrong or wonderfully right depending on your point of view. I went for a sexy look and at the end of the initial part there was to be a fake kiss between each boy/girl partnership.

I remember the stares I got from the other couples when we arrived. Self confidence was not my strong suit despite a boy that mercilessly beat me telling me I was beautiful. The boy had to inform me they were staring because they knew we would win. I never thought winning anything was part of the plan but then I was lost in my own little world because boys that hurt me looked at me differently.  They actually seemed to like what they saw.

I was clinging to that boy like Velcro which was just being commercially introduced. It was really the first time I had touched a boy and he was strong and to my surprise he smelled so wonderful. The thing was nobody told me there was to be a fake kiss until I was there.  I was to throw my 115 pounds into his arms like the defenseless girl I portrayed and he would be my pseudo protector. Worked for me cause he held me like I was a feather.  On the way in he had mentioned "I smelled really nice" which was odd because I would never dare to wear perfume.  I would be grounded for life if that came out at home. I had fought hard just to push androgyny in my daily life. I received a lot of push back but I realized if you take it too far and then back off a little adults thought they were winning and I got away with more. Well, that was my belief at the time.

When the moment came for us I jumped into his arms like I was instructed to. I clearly remember how amazing it felt to be held by him and by then I knew there was a fake kiss and when I faked my kiss that boy did not fake his kiss. If I could put it to music it would be the song  Afternoon Delight  by the Starland Vocal Band and the lyrics "Sky rockets in flight. Afternoon delight.

I am sure it has happened to everyone but I lost myself in that kiss because it was something I had dreamed about and prayed for every night of my childhood. Maybe god had finally answered all those forlorn prayers I whispered every night so my younger brother would not hear them. Suddenly my dream's Knight in Shining Armor was kissing me and surely he would be taking me away to the perfect future as his girl. As his tongue fervently forced its way into my mouth instinctively I responded with a passion I never realized I had until the hooting and hollering brought me to my senses. I remember he tasted so good and tried to put that out of my mind. I did not really understand boy-girl dynamics because I was so isolated from everyone but I knew that kiss meant something and it scared the living daylights out of me. I got out of his arms and ran for the car we arrived in and thankfully it was unlocked. When he finally caught up to me in the back seat of the car I was screaming "you have killed me" which contradicted my original plan because dying was part of the win-win scenario.

I then was so upset and mad I blurted everything out onto this beautiful boy.  I told him how I felt and that I was "really" a girl and as the friends online that I talk regularly with on the telephone or Skype will attest to when I get going it is not easy to shut me up. I told him I needed to be a "real" girl and everything I could think of. He sat there in stunned silence and never said a word as I vented my life to him. I am not sure why I did it but I told him everything. I am not sure how long I blathered on but he finally got me to shut up and tried to get me to stop crying and then he told me things that had never dawned on me. He started by telling me something prophetic.

"You were never a boy so you don't get it. We think about two things. Sports and girls and believe me sports is a distant second. You waltz into school and look like some maverick girl that does not give a crap about the silly dress code which make you dangerous. Dangerous girls excite boys.  Everyone wants to know who the new girl is and then it comes out you are not a girl but you really are a girl I guess. This is all so confusing."

He told me other things about why they beat me up because boys are scared when they realize they are attracted to another boy which was baffling because I avoided boys like they carried the plague. I told that boy all my best kept secrets that only my mom and older brother knew about and again I have no idea why I did. Maybe because he made me feel safe. That moment in the car after the kiss changed my life.

It turns out boys keep secrets worse than girls do because by Monday everyone knew I thought I was a girl or wanted to be a girl and their was a different vibe in the school corridors. I was basically "out" in my High School as the boy that thinks he is a girl which despite some minor setbacks bettered my life dramatically.

It is weird how a single kiss can change a life but it did. He became my boyfriend and one of the loves of my life. His parents and my mother would be the key to saving my life. Funny thing is I thought not one single person other than us new initially he was my boyfriend. We went on a family vacation to Europe that changed my mom's view of me dramatically because of events there but I never knew they had all known about us because the boy told his parents how confused he was by me and his mother was a friend of my mom from their youth and she called my mom but even she knew something was different. I was smiling more it seemed. and if I had paid attention it would have dawned on me she stopped asking if I had a girlfriend and it changed to "do you have a boyfriend" but I was in my own little world even then.

It is funny when I look back on that first kiss. He thrilled me. It sent shivers of joy through my body. It made me feel sexy. It made me realize how wonderful a boy feels and tastes yet the most important thing escaped me then. It began the process of saving my life because there were few kids more self destructive and bent on self destruction than I was.

I have had other memorable first kisses. That first kiss from the first lover I had after surgery was wonderful. The first kiss by my second husband and the third true love of my live was wonderful but not one of them came close to that kiss on a cold and rainy Saturday afternoon in early June 1959. My salvation came from the kiss a boy gave freely because he realized I was really a girl despite the obvious flaw.

In retrospect it was the sweetest kiss ever. Well it certainly was for me anyways.

No kiss was ever sweeter than wine than mine. The original Pete Seeger and the Weavers version is my favorite.

For all of you I do truly hope your first kiss was "sweeter than wine" because mine was.

Why Would You Keep It?

 It has become the enduring question and most controversial decision in the transsexual community. Actually I should rephrase that. It has become the enduring question and most controversial decision in those that are transgendered because quite simply transsexuals do not think that way. I never thought I would ever see the day but it has happened and the simple fact it has happened points out the differences between those born transsexual and those not. What is it?

There are actually idiots running around in the world that think it is cool to be transsexual. They want to be transsexual. They are sprinkled throughout the blog world. Here is a short list of some we are painfully aware of on a daily basis.

  1. The life long transvestite that announces they are deciding to be transsexual so they can get hormones. I kind of doubt the therapists would recommend estrogen for a transvestite but then again who knows.
  2. The suddenly transsexual. There is one in particular that claims until 4 or so years ago he never had any gender issues but suddenly realized he was a transsexual and claims to immediately have been diagnosed as a Benjamin Type V or Type VI. Sorry it does not work that way despite what many think.
  3. The noted blogger that is proud of her 7 inch "neoclit" which is another word for penis who claims her men like her penis which is slang for they like her to use it on them. Sorry but that is simply a she-male doing business with her peeps that like to delude themselves into believing they are not gay. I have had transsexual friends that did this to make money because they had to run to the streets from family but this particular blogger transitioned several decades ago.
  4. The 47 XXY crowd. Well they are usually not 47 XXY but why fuss over details. One in particular got her idea that she was 47 XXY in a conversation with a dear friend of mine.  My friend mentioned 47 XXY in passing since she claimed feminization and within days her blog changed and she was suddenly intersexed, 47 XXY, and better than a transsexual which is her own words. She might be correct because anyone truly born transsexual will tell you that anything is better than being born transsexual.
  5. Then there is my favorite. The transgender activist that suddenly began calling herself transsexual so she could get her birth records changed. She had her balls cut off and considers that gender affirmation surgery and then had the balls, she must have keep them in a jar, to claim the reason she would not have sex reassignment surgery was because of maintenance issues. It is almost like she is talking about a car.
There are many more classic examples but none of them are really bad people. Confused people for sure because only someone deluded or living in a fantasy world would want to be born transsexual. I guess it must be easier to decide you are transsexual. Anyone that was truly born transsexual will tell you it is a living nightmare. I have never met a transsexual that wanted to be transsexual but now they are everywhere it seems.

There was a distinct reason those involved with us in the "old days" coined the term transsexual. It is actually a simple term that implies we "trans" or "cross" or "transfer" across sex boundaries because we believe we are or want to be the opposite sex. Sex is binary if one excludes the truly intersexed because even they should have the right to chose which one they belong to. Gender is a social construct and in my opinion is fluid. Even after one has SRS how one expresses one's gender is fluid and can cross gender boundaries which is where transgender comes in. Gender is different depending upon where you currently reside in that it is expressed differently and hopefully freely in different regions of the world. Cultural Anthropologists understand this clear distinction.

Dr. Benjamin considered transsexuals cured after SRS was complete and we had assimilated into society in whatever manner we individually chose. Some of us did some activist work early on and decided to try an live as normal women.  Others chose to be out activists and it was their right to make that choice as it was my right to take a different path.

Many today want us to believe that because they have a penis it does not disqualify them from being female and a woman. The irony of it is most are "out" activists supposedly representing the "transgender" community under which they have gleefully and deliberately included transsexuals. Those in the transgender camp have no intention of ever giving up their identification as transgendered because sadly it is how they live their lives and it actually gives their lives meaning. For that primary reason there is no way they want transsexuals to profess that once we have our SRS we are cured and thus are no longer transsexual. You will never read or hear any transsexual say they are "transsexual forever" if they were truly born transsexual but "transgender forever" is the mantra of almost all in the transgender community.

It is why those in the transgender camp call us separatists. They claim being separate from the transgender banner hurts everyone but in reality it only hurts them. In a way we are both selfish because we are either no longer transsexual or cannot wait to be no longer transsexual and it pisses us off to be lumped in with others that both want to be transgender forever and in the case of those considered MTF want to keep their penis. In our eyes only a man would want to keep their penis because as women we realize how prized a possession it is to men. Without a penis they cannot piss on trees and mark their territory which is exactly what they are trying to do to all those truly born transsexual. Men believe they are superior to women and they may want to femulate or emulate or dress up for kicks but lord knows they need to keep that "power penis" they were born with. They are selfish because they know without those born transsexual they are simply a joke.

Without transsexuals under the transgender banner there is little to no validity to the transgender "movement". Who in their right mind would pass legislation for cross-dressers and transvestites which is the overwhelming largest majority under the transgender banner. In the United States they would be laughed at but by building the impression that "transgender" is a new terminology for "transsexual" they are able to delude the public and legal officials into supporting those that have no support. 

Has anyone ever read anywhere where the transgender crowd admits they are primarily transvestites and cross-dressers? Of course not. They are "transgender or the new buzz word "trans" which is all inclusive.  In reality all that those truly born transsexual really need is legislation that defines those that have "truly" undergone sex reassignment surgery as legally the sex they were reassigned to. After that we are covered like all men and women by the same rights as everyone else. Don't you find it ironic the one thing the transgender crowd does not openly support is the simple concept that once sex is completely reassigned then that individual should be legally the assigned sex? That would contradict their belief that women can have a penis and men can get pregnant. Silly me for not believing that.

I understand that there are some transsexuals that can not medically have complete sex reassignment and there should be a provision for them but a tightly focused one. So what has happened over the years is interesting.  Many people are now claiming to be transsexual when they are not. A lot of them want to keep that last vestige of maleness, their penis. Just think of it. What man would not love having a set of breasts he can fondle at will while he can jack off. Okay, that is simplistic but men, breasts, and dicks are primal. The only reason anyone born truly MTF transsexual would keep their penis is because of medical reasons. If it is financial then do what most of us did which was work your asses off to save the money for surgery and quite bluntly in today's money we paid more for our surgery than you do today.

The answer to the question "why would they keep it" is simple.  They keep it because at heart they will always be men.