Loaded Questions 

So, I finally got my appointment to see the surgeon. Friday 16th June at the hugely convenient time of 8.30am. It feels like an enormous milestone though. Like reaching land after drifting aimlessly through a shipwreck of a life.

I have hundreds of questions that need answered by the surgeon.  And a few for myself to boot. “Just what is it that you want to do?”. Now that it’s time, it’s actually as scary as fuck. There is no other expression that covers it.

In a matter of months I could have had my operation and be adjusting to the new life I’ve been clawing the path towards for an age. And I’m a little bit terrified.  Although totally ecstatic at the same time. 

I’m still of the opinion that it is sensible to be scared. I’ll never do anything so life altering again.  Short of becoming an astronaut. But it’s all systems go. The answers are within reach and a clock has started ticking down.  Kind of can’t wait 🙂


Three Heel Clicks Ought To Do It

In a few short hours I’ll be heading back to Glasgow.  As much as I love being on holiday, there is no place like your home. I can’t wait to see my own city. In the same way as you miss an old friend. 

I love to travel and in particular I love where I am writing this from. Chania is the only place I have ever felt the need to return more than once. I can’t imagine a year now where I wouldn’t visit at least once.

Which is largely because of the people. Open, friendly and funny. Like an alternate universe Glasgow really.  If we ever saw the sun. 

But to sleep in my own bed in my own home is still a simple joy I am looking forward to. You can take the girl out of Glasgow.  You can never take the Glasgow out of the girl.


The Start Of Something. 

A Scottish transsexual walks into an Irish bar in Crete and it’s owned by an English man. Can’t help but think it’s the start of one of those awful jokes. But it’s still as surreal a situation as I’ve found myself in.

Made all the better by watching Eurovision hosted in a language I don’t understand.  I actually think it may have improved the experience.  Not that it mattered.  I was there for the craic. And there was plenty of that to be had.

Been a little too busy to blog of late. Life getting in the way is not something to complain about though.  Although I did start several posts, there was just something more pressing to do at the time.

Which was generally just catching up with folk I love and hearing their news. I don’t think there is anything better in the world. But I’m currently on a Greek island,  dissolving drip by drip in 31 degree heat at barely 11am. My sunny disposition might be somewhat artificial as a result.  

I care not. It’s another wonderful day, breakfast is at the bottom of the stairs and my holiday is but halfway through.  I’m going to get back to it.  But have yourself a lovely day. Whatever you be doing.


The Stuff Of Nightmares

For the last couple of weeks I’ve been having recurring nightmares.  Nothing too outlandish really but the kind where you wake and it takes minutes to work out that all that stuff never actually happened. And that there is no cause to really be alarmed.

But what seems to scare me isn’t monsters or fabulous beasts I don’t know how to find. It’s just change.  Simply that. And the impact of that change on my relationships. I’m somewhat surprised that it hasn’t been spiders though. I hate them.

And it’s all really just been unresolved conversations which have spilled over into my subconscious.  And then those have played themselves out while I slept. It’s not always been pleasant. 

But it has been enlightening.  I have choices. And the best of them seems to be to learn to let things go. There are things which have hurt me. There is hurt which I’ve done. But while life is pretty good, why carry them around? They belong in the past.

For now I’m looking towards better dreams.  Of the future, of all that I have and all that I could ever reasonably wish for. Seems like a sensible enough approach. Wouldn’t mind dreaming the lottery numbers while I’m at it though. Life is what you allow it to be.  Mine couldn’t be much better.  I should take stock of that. And just let it be.


Straying Alive

I actually struggle daily with the practicalities of being a woman,  rather than a man. Mostly because so much male privilege is literally ingrained in me. I can’t apologise for that though. I simply am who I am.

Today’s video is thought provoking however . I hope you do watch it. It’s literally my greatest fear. Shown in reverse. Watch it with the sound down if it’s not your bag. It’s a compelling video.

I take stupid risks all the time.  I don’t mean to but the male me just could. I grew used to it and took it for granted.  But now I’m facing a new horizon.  I’m vulnerable and a target in a way I just never knew.

On only Friday night I took an insane shortcut home. Straying from the safe path I knew. Taking the long route round a park where many women have been assaulted, recently enough to be in my memory.  I was actually scared for the first time in ages.

I’m used to that walk and thinking nothing of it. But that was Chris.  Chrissy should not be so cavalier.  She runs the same risk as any other woman.  And possibly worse if discovered as not as advertised.  I need to smarten my act up.

But no woman,  Trans or Cis, should know that fear. Although commonsense dictates that we do. I remain slightly afraid every time I go out. I am not completely disabled,  just acutely aware of my new situation.  It somewhat blows. We deserve better.



Out Of Control 

If this blog has taught me one thing,  it’s that the people who read it respond best to pieces that paint me in an unfortunate light. It seems churlish not to oblige now and again. 

Occasionally I come across a new indignity that was not included in the Pre-Transition brochure.  This week was another such lesson.  Although one that common sense might have avoided. 

You might call it a schoolgirl error. If you were being generous. But I had a little glimpse of a Post Op world thanks to falling asleep in overeffective Control Pants. You may have astutely guessed that wine damage was involved. 

Either way, I awoke to soft noodles for legs and a complete inability to determine whether I was in possession of any kind of genitalia whatsoever.  It’s not a mistake I’m likely to repeat. This week anyway. 

But it’s always been a tough learning curve on this particular journey.  And not every lesson is as obvious as the last. The crash course in female life is definitely on an ongoing basis. It’s not all bad though.  This week I finally “got” what I want to be doing with my nails and was absolutely delighted with myself.  Then I tried painting them. That must be an Extra Credit part of the course. It eludes me for now. The Rough Vs Smooth of transition remains frustrating but I’m getting there.  Probably get a lot further by not cutting off my own blood supply though. You live and learn. 


Happy Bunnies, Instant Karma And Inexplicable Singing 

Here we are at Easter Sunday already. I generally find family orientated holidays pretty difficult but I’m in too good a place for that that to get a hold of me this year.

Life is entirely what you make it and I’m too settled to be lamenting about what I don’t have.  I have plenty to keep me busy. Good friends,  a life that I love and burgeoning boobs that are now practically cuppable. I’ve pretty much got  all I could really reasonably want.  Easter is all about rebirth and I’m on the cusp of that now. And part of that will be about an effort to be better too. Karma has delivered enough already for me to be a fairly happy bunny these days though.

And as an unintended measurement  of my happiness,  I can’t stop singing.  At all. Not like public performances but everywhere I go I’m singing my little heart out. Mostly to myself. Especially on the high notes. But it’s a good indicator of where I am. Which is just really stupidly happy. 

I’ve also realised that I appreciate every single person who happens to read this blog, however occasionally.  So have a wonderful Easter you fabulous little thing. Join you for a duet at midnight.  You can choose the song.