Zap!

Had my second IPL session today. The power was turned up a couple of notches, and next time it will be on full whack, gulp. I have noticed a very slight slowing in growth since the first treatment, but not enough to really make any difference. Any amount of stubble is a problem, so it’s a case of all or nothing. Which could take some time. I remain patient.

I’ve started the rather awesome task of informing various institutions of my change of name, my god there are more than you think. I collected my passport from my dad on the way back today, as I need that for my new driving license. I couldn’t stop long, but just long enough to tell him about my official change of surname, which didn’t seem to upset him particularly. I don’t think he ever liked the name either, but he doesn’t want me to go ahead with all this anyway so the name doesn’t really matter. I said if there was any way I could avoid all this I would, but he said, "I suppose a man’s got to do what, a woman’s got to do", so at least he realises that I have to do this, whether he likes it or not. Which he doesn’t. Oh well. He really isn’t happy about this, but I don’t expect him to be so I don’t let it bother me.

It’s funny though, I was thinking last night how I have always accepted my transgenderism, it’s just always been a part of me, I’ve never known anything else, but I never really got emotional about it until I shared it with my family. I’m not sure if that’s because of the way it affects them, or the way them knowing affects me. Bring something like this out into the open and everything takes on a new aspect. Hard to explain, but dealing with one’s family is a very emotional time, for me at least. I think the worst is over. Perhaps my next major nerve-racking event will be the meeting of Lucy and her dad, which either has to happen soon, or he simply never sees me again, which I’m glad to say he hasn’t suggested. Yet…

I said they were welcome to come round for dinner again anytime, but he said it must be their turn to invite me, perhaps in a few weeks when his schedule is less busy. Either he accepts me going dressed or I don’t go, so we shall see. I’m full time now, with a small exception – once a month when I go for my IPL treatment, as one is required to have a certain amount of stubble. Though in future I will go in girly jeans and an ambiguous top. The NHS criteria for the Real Life Experience is to not present yourself as male or revert to the male role at all. No problem there, I have no desire to do either, but I don’t think it’s crystal clear where one should draw one’s own line. As an example I am not prepared to shave every day, as my skin just can't handle it, but I shan’t be going out when I don’t except for the IPL, so I feel they must allow me that, as it has nothing to do with reverting to "male role", quite the contrary in fact. Anyway today will probably be the last time my dad sees me in any form of male clothes, not that I looked at all male today, despite a little stubble. He looked at my passport pic and said, "It doesn’t look anything like you!"

"I know, it’s hideous…"

My chosen path will make me a better person, of that I am sure. And already I don’t look half as bad as I used to. Must be a good omen.

xx