Blog had an unexpected stats boost this week. Calie from California shared my page on a list of Trans related blogs. Which meant a surprising upsurge in visits and especially visitors from other countries.

This little blog normally mostly gets seen by folk from the UK or USA. But this week I’ve had Canada, Ireland, Spain, France, Australia, Belgium, New Zealand, Netherlands and Japan pop by too. I’m totally delighted with that!

Tar very much!

So today’s post is really just to say thanks to Calie for including me and bringing some new folk my way. To return the favour, you can find her links page here and some more about her there. Enjoy your Sunday x


The Domino’s Effect

Not actually encountered any straightforward prejudice or downright ignorance for a good while. So was a little under prepared and unguarded when it happened out of the blue on Thursday while out shopping.

Didn’t have to actually even be in the store it happened in either, Domino’s in Newton Mearns (Glasgow). Because the three idiots involved were more than audible from the pavement outside their store. For all 10 minutes of their hugely uneducated discourse on gender.

Hold the personal commentary please!

Part of me wants to allow that it was just happenstance. But the odds against their particularly loud conversation taking place just as the only visible Transgender person for miles was standing right outside their store strike me as being astronomical.

But here’s the rub, I most probably will face this periodically for the rest of my life. And that, for me, does necessitate just having to almost totally let go of anger. I genuinely cannot fight every single one of those battles. No matter how satisfying it would be to break someone’s jaw at the time. I’m sure you’ve been there with that red mist of justifiable rage at some point. Ignorance and injustice will simply always push my buttons.

To give into that though? And to give them a reaction? I’m trying, fairly successfully, to move beyond that. It is what it is, they are what they are and I am most definitely a happier thing than any of them. On the up side, what I am does not rhyme with hunts.


Proud To Be Out

Today is the final day of the Pride Celebrations here in Glasgow. It’s Pride season in general I suppose but it’s the first time in a while that I’ve taken a step back from it.

Not that I’m not celebrating it but just not feeling as involved this year. And my celebration necessarily just has to be smaller and more personal in it’s nature for the time being.

The Pride march in Glasgow is usually pretty impressive on it’s own anyway. This year’s was slightly different in that it was led by the leader of the Scottish Parliament. So I’m kind of sorry I missed it.

There are two things I love about that though. Firstly that we have a commitment to equality in Scotland. And secondly, that our own leader had better things to do than massage Trump’s ego on his unwelcome visit to these shores. Best political V sign of the week. Potentially even the year.


“I Hope You Kept The Receipt”

Shared a lot of things on this little blog. Heartbreaks, triumphs, stupid stories. This might be my most open post to date though. Because this is the week I sort of accidentally broke my vagina.

I wouldn’t mind but I’ve only had it eight months and it’s never even left the garage. And I’ve honestly followed the instructions I was given to the letter. But broken is still the only word that accurately describes the current state of play.

Although play is possibly the last thing on my mind at this particular time. I’ve no idea exactly how I did what I did but if she had a voice, it would definitely be screaming “Don’t fucking touch me!”.

My best guess is that something might have been scratched or bumped internally. Either way, it’s not at all happy with me. I’m sort of trying my best to be OK with that. Steep learning curve for both of us etc.

I’m not even sure exactly who I’d initially go to see about it anyway. There’s absolutely nobody I’d be all that keen to show my damaged goods, regardless of their qualifications. Nurse? No thank you. Doctor? Definitely nope, known since I was 8. Some kind of specialist? I don’t wish to be professionally judged as incompetent. I’m sort of reasonably confident that it will turn out OK eventually though so total panic has not yet ensued. But my new life just continues to be an education every day. Although I would definitely like a copy of the lesson plan occasionally.


Walking The Plank

Been a wee bit too occupied to visit for a couple of weeks. And sort of a sad post today so going with a jaunty pirate theme to try to even things out. No guarantees that it shall.

Depending on how much you’ve seen of my blog, you might have read of my estrangement from family. And you might have gathered how enormously grateful I was to have them back in my life. Unfortunately that period of d├ętente just doesn’t seem able to last as a whole.

My relationship with my youngest brother is currently far more hurtful than even more than four years of silence ever was. And I’m not really sure which one of us walking the plank refers to. But one of us has to go.

I can’t have him anywhere near my life as everything else is going well. Truthfully , other than his toxicity, I’m pretty much grand. But jettisoning him seems cruel to me too. I can hear “Two wrongs don’t make a right” in my parents’ voices without closing my eyes. That he cannot cope with my transition at all is not something I choose to blame him for. But that he does so with so little grace, I don’t really need to stick around for either. Going back to the silent treatment would be relatively welcomed, for my part. Which is heartbreaking.

So we have a bit less of a jaunty theme than perhaps originally intended. But I do think I might just need to allow him to sail off out of my life. He will hopefully take all his irate nonsense with him which, in this nautical theme, would just leave a P to remember him by. Really do hope that at some point, it won’t stand for Prick!