Sheer extraordinariness

The sheer extraordinariness, the sheer contrariness, of trans hovers in the background of trans discourse that tries its best to normalise itself. Trans is a freaky, contrary phenomenon: I suspect we must all feel that really.

It's the sort of thing one thinks happens only  to other people. Not even the other people you know: the strange ones, in films and books.

And yet I am one of those strange people.

The matter of disapproval can overshadow the matter of disbelief. I might not be ashamed of it, but can I really trust it, an internal feeling than flies in the face of not just culture but physical reality?

I should be strong and trust it. Claiming that strength is in itself empowering.

See the richness in the extraordinary.

Take pleasure and pride in it. Feel privileged.

I have this extra special facet in my life. An extra dimension to my experience of sexuality and gender.

It is up to me to savor my inner gender.

I intend to enjoy it.

Great big jello

My crossdreaming is like a great big blob of pink jello that descends softly, slowly but inevitably upon me every so often (well, quite often, actually). It submerges me, I surrender to it helplessly - which of course being a sub, femme sort of person is the sort of thing I enjoy.

Sex is the elixir of life, and sexual feelings are so revealing, oh so deeply revealing, of who you truly are. In fact not quite that: they ere not an indicative symptom, they are who you truly are in their own right.

Oh but I don't know really about what's really true, scientifically, philosophically speaking. I'm just a girl submerged under delicious pink jello, right? xxx

Skipping through pink question marks

Oh the sun is shining and I am a girl.

I am a girl. I am such a girl.

The same old affirmation; always worth reaffirming, like the religious constantly reaffirm their faith.

No wit or wisdom for you today folks. The answer to all complicated questions is 'I don't know'. But the question marks are lovely and pink and soft and sensual.

Instead of wit or wisdom I just have lovely femininity which I am feeling deeply. It's sexy and lovely although it makes me cry. And acknowledging it feels so deeply right.

I would like to blow kisses of this femininity out to you all. xxx

Woman trapped inside the body of a computer

'I have put my talent into writing. My genius I have saved for living.'  Oscar Wilde

The life/writing relationship is complicated by the writer being the subject of their own writing.

Especially when the theme is introspection and development of identity.

Inner/outer/persona.

There's an appeal and also a discomfort in performing myself in this public/private space.

Very flattering that you've chosen to look though. Thank you.

Bye for now. xxx

Just another t-girl

I like that the way that my t-ness is developing fits a pattern shared with many other crossdreamers.

I've mentioned this before, but the afront to my proud individuality, my sense of self-determination, feels refreshing, and a salutary lesson.

Beneath the too proudly independent man is just another t-girl.

How I feel is what is crucial. How I interpret it is superficial.

I the conscious interpreter am not directing this journey.

In a way you, if you are long-term reader of this blog, might understand me better than I understand myself. You might be thinking 'oh yes, all the classic symptoms, the classic trajectory', while I hypothesise and waiver.

Oh, I really want to embrace all my cd-sisters that I have this deep, deep thing in common with.

I have found my tribe and I want to be a regular member of it. xxx

(another gorgeous portrait by Pino Daeni)

The world is gendered and I am a girl

What a thought this is. What a transformation of perspective from 'masculinity and femininity are sexist shit'.

Of course I support equality, freedom, diversity, respect for difference. I support fluidity and I am against society imposing gender expectations on individuals.

Can we separate the 'is' from the 'ought'? What we believe from what we would like to believe? Difference from judgemental attitudes to difference?

The idea that how I think, how I feel, is deeply influenced by an inner femininity is an extraordinary one, of profound importance in comprehending myself. It moves me almost to tears in fact.

I am a crossdreamer. That is all about gender.

All trans is about gender. Genderqueer, gender fluid are about gender identities, not non-gender identities.

Might the new thought be wrong? of course it might. But I recommend considering it open-mindedly, rather than rejecting it abrasively. xxx

Deborah monologue

I would like to think of writing this blog as a useful diary exercise. As a friendly 'hello, how are you?' chat with myself.

But who is myself?

The perspective definitely has changed, as most of the posts of the last two months have recorded or suggested. But development is erratic, and always within an intellectual context of 'I don't really know for sure'.

Do I now have a deeper, stronger sense of my own femaleness?

Yes.

Am I now dysphoric? Well, there are strands of frustration at times, but nothing like what others describe. Sometimes the 'I am a girl' voice within me screeches a little too loudly; it's frustrating to have to hold it within an outer maleness. Today I wanted to grab hold of the girl standing next to me, eject her (nothing personal, sorry...) from her body so I could possess the female body that feels rightfully mine myself. But mostly the sheer depth and freshness of this identification opens up so much space to be explored and consolidated that I am not bashing my head against the wall of outer maleness. It feels rich and exciting.

And, speaking as inner Deborah, it feels wonderful to be acknowledged.

In a way that makes me feel sad about past inner neglect, isolation. I still suddenly feel close to tears often, about past loneliness and confinement.

I am reinterpreting my character and my past.

It's an enormous, profound shift in self. xxx



(N.B. No nice pic of an attractive girl to end with, I've decided. Lovely though the crossdreamy thrill is to reperesent my inner self in this way, it doesn't feel quite right [today]. I am my own girl, unique. A picture of another girl is a picture of another girl, not me. I don't have to adopt her to be female [contrary to the sentiment expressed in the big paragraph above]. I don't have a female exterior: that's the sad truth. I do have a female interior. xx)