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Lucy Diamond 's Entries

204 blogs
  • 20 May 2004
    A Stroll By The Canal Off work this week, and it’s been reasonably hectic so far, which is why I haven’t got round to blogging recently. Of course the highlight of the week was Tuesday in Manchester, out with Cathy & Pippa. I’m sure most of you will have seen the pics and read the account in Life of Catherine, some of you may even have the T-shirt, so I won’t go into too much detail, much as I love doing so. Suffice to say it was utterly wonderful to be out dressed. Once again as soon as my foot touched the pavement I was instantly transported to a heavenly place, no, not Canal Street, a place within my soul filled with beauty. Complete and content and ridiculously happy. In contrast to the Edinburgh experience, (late, dark, straight into a taxi) we opened the door to a crowd of people opoosite, drinking & mingling by the canal, on a lovely warm sunny evening. The last thing Cathy said to me before we went out was, "there’s a lot of people out there, they may stare", well, lots of people? Goody! Look at me everyone! Only a few hundred scotttish people have seen me really being myself, so stare, gawp, laugh, whatever you want, I will be smiling back, as Lucy usually does. Mancunians are perhaps less reserved than Edinburghians (?) so later on in the evening we did come across one or two people (drunken blokes actually) who seemed to find amusement in three girls having a night out. I smiled at them of course. I felt no bad feeling towards them, or myself; I no longer have any reason for feeling inadequate as a person. I may still wish that physical characteristics could be improved, but I feel whole inside of me. I think we were probably more noticed than we were in Edinburgh, but it doesn’t really matter to me either way, quiet or busy, dark or light, noticed or not, I’m doing this beacause this is me. Statistically speaking though (there I go again…) more people seemed either polite, unperturbed, or perfectly accepting towards three girls having a night out, than the few who found it amusing. Which is reassuring, but only from an amateur psychologist’s point of view. Of course we were in The Village, so the study may have been biased in our favour. Well, it felt like a nice place to be, and with two completely lovely friends, what more can a girl ask? More of this please!
    521 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • A Stroll By The Canal Off work this week, and it’s been reasonably hectic so far, which is why I haven’t got round to blogging recently. Of course the highlight of the week was Tuesday in Manchester, out with Cathy & Pippa. I’m sure most of you will have seen the pics and read the account in Life of Catherine, some of you may even have the T-shirt, so I won’t go into too much detail, much as I love doing so. Suffice to say it was utterly wonderful to be out dressed. Once again as soon as my foot touched the pavement I was instantly transported to a heavenly place, no, not Canal Street, a place within my soul filled with beauty. Complete and content and ridiculously happy. In contrast to the Edinburgh experience, (late, dark, straight into a taxi) we opened the door to a crowd of people opoosite, drinking & mingling by the canal, on a lovely warm sunny evening. The last thing Cathy said to me before we went out was, "there’s a lot of people out there, they may stare", well, lots of people? Goody! Look at me everyone! Only a few hundred scotttish people have seen me really being myself, so stare, gawp, laugh, whatever you want, I will be smiling back, as Lucy usually does. Mancunians are perhaps less reserved than Edinburghians (?) so later on in the evening we did come across one or two people (drunken blokes actually) who seemed to find amusement in three girls having a night out. I smiled at them of course. I felt no bad feeling towards them, or myself; I no longer have any reason for feeling inadequate as a person. I may still wish that physical characteristics could be improved, but I feel whole inside of me. I think we were probably more noticed than we were in Edinburgh, but it doesn’t really matter to me either way, quiet or busy, dark or light, noticed or not, I’m doing this beacause this is me. Statistically speaking though (there I go again…) more people seemed either polite, unperturbed, or perfectly accepting towards three girls having a night out, than the few who found it amusing. Which is reassuring, but only from an amateur psychologist’s point of view. Of course we were in The Village, so the study may have been biased in our favour. Well, it felt like a nice place to be, and with two completely lovely friends, what more can a girl ask? More of this please!
    May 20, 2004 521
  • 14 May 2004
    Lucy in the sky Yes, I'm feeling excited anticipation about Manchester, but there's more. After my first time out I added a post on the forum, Passing in Public - Passing is a Drug, as I was severely under the influence of that drug, or something very similar (not saying I passed though). The intoxication lasted for weeks, in fact never quite subsided, and now my next time out is drawing near I can feel the same high returning, like some sort of ongoing flashback. It's a natural high with no hangover and no adverse side-effects, and the big difference surely between this and any other drug is that this is something very real; something that really has improved your state of mind rather than just making you think so temporarily. In my case, it's a heightened state of consciousness, an increase in perception at least of myself, and a feeling of euphoria. I think what all this means is, I'm happy. Was my life dull and miserable before all this? Well no not really, it had its moments, good and bad; I got by. But there was an underlying sadness that I was not altogether aware of. I was aware that I probably wasn't reaching my full potential in various ways, but mainly as far as my own peace of mind was concerned. Thing is though, then I had nothing to compare my life with and my feelings towards it; it was all on a level, only ever moving sideways. Now I'm in ascent, like a star shining from within, illuminating the dimness of my former existence. I could have survived as I was, but I knew something needed to be improved. I had no idea how great that improvement would be, or that a few simple steps would effect it. There may be a bit more polishing to do, but this diamond is sparkling
    524 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • Lucy in the sky Yes, I'm feeling excited anticipation about Manchester, but there's more. After my first time out I added a post on the forum, Passing in Public - Passing is a Drug, as I was severely under the influence of that drug, or something very similar (not saying I passed though). The intoxication lasted for weeks, in fact never quite subsided, and now my next time out is drawing near I can feel the same high returning, like some sort of ongoing flashback. It's a natural high with no hangover and no adverse side-effects, and the big difference surely between this and any other drug is that this is something very real; something that really has improved your state of mind rather than just making you think so temporarily. In my case, it's a heightened state of consciousness, an increase in perception at least of myself, and a feeling of euphoria. I think what all this means is, I'm happy. Was my life dull and miserable before all this? Well no not really, it had its moments, good and bad; I got by. But there was an underlying sadness that I was not altogether aware of. I was aware that I probably wasn't reaching my full potential in various ways, but mainly as far as my own peace of mind was concerned. Thing is though, then I had nothing to compare my life with and my feelings towards it; it was all on a level, only ever moving sideways. Now I'm in ascent, like a star shining from within, illuminating the dimness of my former existence. I could have survived as I was, but I knew something needed to be improved. I had no idea how great that improvement would be, or that a few simple steps would effect it. There may be a bit more polishing to do, but this diamond is sparkling
    May 14, 2004 524
  • 13 May 2004
    In your place, or mine I mentioned my recurring dreams again yesterday, and there I go again today, they’re starting to recur as often as they did when I was 4. Sorry about that, I am known for repeating myself, something I get from my mother, not the only thing I expect… yes, digressing too. I have a couple of friends who I’m certain read their dreams the wrong way, they explain their dreams to me in great detail, which I must admit I don’t enjoy at all, but they then connect them with something that happens in the days or weeks following, believing that their dreams are in some way a premonition. What a load of nonsense. Dreams are just your subconscious showing itself, although the way in which that happens can often be downright weird, but doesn’t necessarily mean you are too. I believe my early dreams show the true person within me, my current dreams show that too, but why would a 4 year old have dreams where it felt profoundly right to be a girl? Too young I believe, to have been conditioned into thinking that girlyness was a better way of life, too young to need to escape from the pressures of being a male in a competitive society by cross-dressing, too young to even understand all that stuff. No, my dreams then and now, clearly show me something about myself; I was born this way, I have always, and will always be like this. Something in my brain fills me with the need to be feminine. Part of me therefore is female, it may be a miniscule atom-sized particle, but it affects my whole being. That makes it pretty huge. I’ve read a little about the theory of how the brain differs in the transgendered, possibly affected at birth by hormonal changes in the mother at a crucial stage of the pregnancy; the point at which gender is determined in the brain, a completely separate determination from the physical gender-defining characteristics. This seems to make sense, and in a way makes it a no more serious problem than being born short-sighted, or forgetful or repetitive or whatever; something that was decided for us long ago by the powers of nature, completely beyond our control. Seems to me the best thing we can do about it now is to take control of our life, and steer it in a way that gives us some sort of satisfaction, rather than frustration. If you don't, girls, the frustration will get the better of you. I've heard quite a few girls say they're not ready to go out in public yet, and I wouldn't push anyone into that, but I felt for years I was not able to go out, and am now wondering why the hell I didn't get out sooner. It may not happen for everybody, but getting out might just change your perceptions of yourself, and of your environment. I can see the frustration in these girls' words, and even the desperation, I think they need to get to a place (spiritual/emotional place) that they might not be aware actually exists, but they are all aware in some way or other that the place they are in doesn't feel right, or is not enough for them. There are plenty of girls here that would like to help with this, perhaps because they've all been there and have now found something better. I know I have, and I'd love to share that enlightenment with others. My first day onsite, in the chatroom, people were inviting me out shopping or clubbing, in fact I was spoilt for choice, but it was too soon, I wasn't ready.... That soon changed though, some girls in particular were incredibly helpful and encouraging, which in turn encouraged me to help myself. That's what you have to do, search your inner self, tell yourself you have nothing to fear, put on your best frock (or I'll lend you one) and get your girly shoes on the pavement. When I stepped out of that hotel and onto the street I was reborn. Any fears or nervousness I had melted away, being replaced by an intense warm feeling of naturalness, from at last feeling myself, and being in my place. I was a new person, the real me that had been fighting to get out for all these years. Next time I'm out, only a few days away, there will be no fear or nerves, just excited anticipation, which is bubbling up already, in case you hadn't noticed. And this time I'll be wearing a short skirt. Watch out Manchester here I come!
    491 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • In your place, or mine I mentioned my recurring dreams again yesterday, and there I go again today, they’re starting to recur as often as they did when I was 4. Sorry about that, I am known for repeating myself, something I get from my mother, not the only thing I expect… yes, digressing too. I have a couple of friends who I’m certain read their dreams the wrong way, they explain their dreams to me in great detail, which I must admit I don’t enjoy at all, but they then connect them with something that happens in the days or weeks following, believing that their dreams are in some way a premonition. What a load of nonsense. Dreams are just your subconscious showing itself, although the way in which that happens can often be downright weird, but doesn’t necessarily mean you are too. I believe my early dreams show the true person within me, my current dreams show that too, but why would a 4 year old have dreams where it felt profoundly right to be a girl? Too young I believe, to have been conditioned into thinking that girlyness was a better way of life, too young to need to escape from the pressures of being a male in a competitive society by cross-dressing, too young to even understand all that stuff. No, my dreams then and now, clearly show me something about myself; I was born this way, I have always, and will always be like this. Something in my brain fills me with the need to be feminine. Part of me therefore is female, it may be a miniscule atom-sized particle, but it affects my whole being. That makes it pretty huge. I’ve read a little about the theory of how the brain differs in the transgendered, possibly affected at birth by hormonal changes in the mother at a crucial stage of the pregnancy; the point at which gender is determined in the brain, a completely separate determination from the physical gender-defining characteristics. This seems to make sense, and in a way makes it a no more serious problem than being born short-sighted, or forgetful or repetitive or whatever; something that was decided for us long ago by the powers of nature, completely beyond our control. Seems to me the best thing we can do about it now is to take control of our life, and steer it in a way that gives us some sort of satisfaction, rather than frustration. If you don't, girls, the frustration will get the better of you. I've heard quite a few girls say they're not ready to go out in public yet, and I wouldn't push anyone into that, but I felt for years I was not able to go out, and am now wondering why the hell I didn't get out sooner. It may not happen for everybody, but getting out might just change your perceptions of yourself, and of your environment. I can see the frustration in these girls' words, and even the desperation, I think they need to get to a place (spiritual/emotional place) that they might not be aware actually exists, but they are all aware in some way or other that the place they are in doesn't feel right, or is not enough for them. There are plenty of girls here that would like to help with this, perhaps because they've all been there and have now found something better. I know I have, and I'd love to share that enlightenment with others. My first day onsite, in the chatroom, people were inviting me out shopping or clubbing, in fact I was spoilt for choice, but it was too soon, I wasn't ready.... That soon changed though, some girls in particular were incredibly helpful and encouraging, which in turn encouraged me to help myself. That's what you have to do, search your inner self, tell yourself you have nothing to fear, put on your best frock (or I'll lend you one) and get your girly shoes on the pavement. When I stepped out of that hotel and onto the street I was reborn. Any fears or nervousness I had melted away, being replaced by an intense warm feeling of naturalness, from at last feeling myself, and being in my place. I was a new person, the real me that had been fighting to get out for all these years. Next time I'm out, only a few days away, there will be no fear or nerves, just excited anticipation, which is bubbling up already, in case you hadn't noticed. And this time I'll be wearing a short skirt. Watch out Manchester here I come!
    May 13, 2004 491
  • 12 May 2004
    In my place Last night I was chatting to Emma, who I’ll be meeting up with when I go to London for Tramsmission in June. We’re going to make a girly weekend of it – go out for a drink on Friday, do some shopping on Saturday then tm that evening. Sadly I’ll have to drive back on Sunday, but wish I could stay for longer because there is just so much I want to do (so much shopping, so little time). Hopefully I can arrange another visit soon, maybe go to the Wayout club and stay at the Philbeach, both of which sound most interesting and just the place for me. Anyway we were talking about all the things we could do, and she sent me some pics from tm; the weekend will be amazing. Most of my weekends are spent being girly, but on my own, filing my nails and stuff like that, thankfully with nice people to chat to on tweb, but always at home. I do like London, at least as a place to visit, and the thought of walking around town, lunching in the park, and shopping whilst dressed is just heavenly. I said the other day that it may take some courage to go shopping en femme, but what’s to stop me? Only myself. Not long ago that would have stopped me dead in my tracks, but that would have been the old me, who feared the unknown. So I may not be passable, shop assistants may glare, customers may stare, but do I care? Not really, like I said before this is the real me and I’m happy about it so people will just have to like it or lump it. Maybe I’ll find that shopping whilst dressed is easier than shopping in drab, which has always felt awkward, but I haven’t lost my sensitive nature altogether and I really don’t want to be sneered at, though I no longer fear that. I do feel strong enough to cope with it now, and I expect I’ll just smile politely at anyone who is less than courteous, after all, they’re the ones with the problem. And on the practical side, maybe I’ll pluck up the courage to actually try something on before I buy it; although I’m pretty good at being able to tell by looking whether something will fit right, you never quite know if it will look right. Although I’ve seen lots of pics from tm and similar events, the ones Emma sent me really hit home. I will be amongst people that are like me, maybe the same but different, but basically the same. I will at last be "one of the girls", in a group that I really belong to, without having to try and pretend that I fit in. This is the stuff of dreams, but soon to be reality. My childhood recurring dreams are still fixed in my mind, as strong as they were when I awoke from them, aged 4. My dreams are more grown up now, I’m usually wearing something more elegant than a gingham minidress, and they don’t recur, but those early images have stayed with me all my life. When I have a song going around in my head I find if I put that song on when I get home, it helps; maybe doesn’t stop the song repeating in my head, but somehow it feels like a release. Going out for the first time was a release in that kind of way, only infinitely more needed, and more satisfying, than playing a record. The thing about my dreams was I was always in public, I was a girl and everyone knew it, in fact nothing unusual about them at all, apart from the fact that I was happier in my dreams than I was in real life. It was only in my dreams that I felt normal and everything seemed right, which is how I realised I felt when I was out. So it’s not just being dressed, or being dressed in public that I need to do, but I need to be a part of something more. I already feel like I am, but to actually be in a place where everyone will accept me without prejudice has got to be a dream come true. Emma and I also talked about sipping cocktails in the hotel bar whilst wearing something classy, where we could go shopping, short skirts in the park… More than just going out dressed, what I need is to live the life of a lady, even if only occasionally. So I realised what a super weekend this promises to be. You can’t blame me for getting excited about these things can you; it’s got to be better than staying at home filing your nails.
    457 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • In my place Last night I was chatting to Emma, who I’ll be meeting up with when I go to London for Tramsmission in June. We’re going to make a girly weekend of it – go out for a drink on Friday, do some shopping on Saturday then tm that evening. Sadly I’ll have to drive back on Sunday, but wish I could stay for longer because there is just so much I want to do (so much shopping, so little time). Hopefully I can arrange another visit soon, maybe go to the Wayout club and stay at the Philbeach, both of which sound most interesting and just the place for me. Anyway we were talking about all the things we could do, and she sent me some pics from tm; the weekend will be amazing. Most of my weekends are spent being girly, but on my own, filing my nails and stuff like that, thankfully with nice people to chat to on tweb, but always at home. I do like London, at least as a place to visit, and the thought of walking around town, lunching in the park, and shopping whilst dressed is just heavenly. I said the other day that it may take some courage to go shopping en femme, but what’s to stop me? Only myself. Not long ago that would have stopped me dead in my tracks, but that would have been the old me, who feared the unknown. So I may not be passable, shop assistants may glare, customers may stare, but do I care? Not really, like I said before this is the real me and I’m happy about it so people will just have to like it or lump it. Maybe I’ll find that shopping whilst dressed is easier than shopping in drab, which has always felt awkward, but I haven’t lost my sensitive nature altogether and I really don’t want to be sneered at, though I no longer fear that. I do feel strong enough to cope with it now, and I expect I’ll just smile politely at anyone who is less than courteous, after all, they’re the ones with the problem. And on the practical side, maybe I’ll pluck up the courage to actually try something on before I buy it; although I’m pretty good at being able to tell by looking whether something will fit right, you never quite know if it will look right. Although I’ve seen lots of pics from tm and similar events, the ones Emma sent me really hit home. I will be amongst people that are like me, maybe the same but different, but basically the same. I will at last be "one of the girls", in a group that I really belong to, without having to try and pretend that I fit in. This is the stuff of dreams, but soon to be reality. My childhood recurring dreams are still fixed in my mind, as strong as they were when I awoke from them, aged 4. My dreams are more grown up now, I’m usually wearing something more elegant than a gingham minidress, and they don’t recur, but those early images have stayed with me all my life. When I have a song going around in my head I find if I put that song on when I get home, it helps; maybe doesn’t stop the song repeating in my head, but somehow it feels like a release. Going out for the first time was a release in that kind of way, only infinitely more needed, and more satisfying, than playing a record. The thing about my dreams was I was always in public, I was a girl and everyone knew it, in fact nothing unusual about them at all, apart from the fact that I was happier in my dreams than I was in real life. It was only in my dreams that I felt normal and everything seemed right, which is how I realised I felt when I was out. So it’s not just being dressed, or being dressed in public that I need to do, but I need to be a part of something more. I already feel like I am, but to actually be in a place where everyone will accept me without prejudice has got to be a dream come true. Emma and I also talked about sipping cocktails in the hotel bar whilst wearing something classy, where we could go shopping, short skirts in the park… More than just going out dressed, what I need is to live the life of a lady, even if only occasionally. So I realised what a super weekend this promises to be. You can’t blame me for getting excited about these things can you; it’s got to be better than staying at home filing your nails.
    May 12, 2004 457
  • 11 May 2004
    And the Lord said unto Lucy, "Rise, for you are healed…" 7 days and counting… One day going out dressed will be just a normal thing to do, it will feel natural and I won’t get butterflies thinking about it. I’d really like to be full-time, but need a change of circumstance or two for that to happen; as I’ve said before it’s just not possible at the moment, work, family, finances, location and so on (not to mention the need for facial surgery which I would seriously look into if I could afford it). In the meantime I have plenty of things I need to work on. I may never get to go full-time, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world; as long as I can get out from time to time, ok - as often as possible, I’ll be happy. At the moment going out is still an extremely exciting prospect; It’s hard to explain how much I hate having to go around as a man, without using lots of adjectives and foul language, so lets just say I don’t like it at all. That’s why going out dressed is so exciting; I’m well used to being dressed and getting made-up (still practice needed there though), but it’s the contrast between being out as a man and being out as my real self. I have to turn my mind off from it when I need to go out in drab, virtually every day, if I thought about it too much it would make me feel ill, and I’d never get out the door. I’ve never been happy about going out, I would describe it as a tendency towards agoraphobia (literally: fear of the market place, nothing to do with open spaces as many people think). I used to hate people seeing me in my drab state and so would scurry about avoiding eye contact with anyone when I was in public. But this is one way in which I have been changed by a greater understanding of myself, all brought about by what I’ve read and discussed on this site, and the realization of the effect that going out dressed has on me. The agoraphobia, and the self-destructive streak which I’ve mentioned previously is all down to an inability to accept myself, and when I write it down it’s perfectly bloody obvious why that should be. I’ve spent most of my life detesting myself, without admitting it, perhaps even realising it; and why shouldn’t I? I look like a man, and I’m expected to behave and dress accordingly. It feels perverse having to do that. It still doesn’t feel right but there has been a big change in how I feel about myself. I may not like my appearance but I can handle it now; mentally, I can cope. Actually it’s more than coping; I feel more than ever that I have an identity and that I’m happy with who I am, in fact I even quite like myself. Dressing at home has kept me going for a long time but now I feel there is so much more, and nothing seems so out of reach. These changes are not only effective when I’m dressed, I feel different all the time now, even out in drab, dealing with people at work, meeting strangers; all these things used to make me feel awkward at the very least, but now it’s no problem, I almost relish it. It’s because I know better than ever who I am, that I can be who I want to be, and even if I’m not dressed right I am still that person. I feel more like Lucy than I ever did, like she has truly been brought to life, and really like my body has been taken over by a different person. Lucy makes all the decisions now, and handles things the way she wants to, and I think she’s much nicer than the person that used to occupy this body. She used to only become apparent when I got home from work, slipped into something more comfortable and relaxed into a somewhat more feminine mode, but now she’s 24/7. This is the person I really am, the person I should have always been; at last I have found myself. I wonder if I ought to feel like I’ve wasted so much of my life being the wrong person, as it were, but I can see clearly why I’ve felt so wrong about myself. To suddenly feel right - a completely whole, happy and contented person is a bit of a miracle really. That’s how it feels, and I can’t look back and have regrets, because that miracle is just so astounding. Besides, Lucy isn’t like that; the old person who used to live here would regret stuff and wish things could have been different, but that’s no way to live and Lucy is much more aware of such things. Lucy looks forward to life, and doesn’t live in fear of anything. Even if she has to dress in stupid men’s clothes she is stronger in her mind, and feels happy inside, regardless of outward appearance. If I could apply the solutions for my problems to other people’s in the everyday world maybe I could become very rich. I could move to America and become a shrink, or write a book. But I doubt if the reasons behind other people’s problems are the same as mine, and I guess it’s unlikely that joining trannyweb and going out dressed as a woman would work for everyone. Now wouldn’t that be a nice simple solution to all the world’s problems? Seriously though, I do wish I could help people to come to terms with themselves the way I have done, and I don’t mean for financial gain. I may not be able to help people with "normal" problems, but I know what it’s like to be transgendered, and about the issues surrounding it, and I know that out of all the chaos and mental anguish it really is possible to find a positive route – a way up from the slippery slope. It’s all about self-realisation and accepting yourself. That may be something that ultimately no-one else can do for you, but I hope I can help, should anyone feel they need it. Well, we can all help, being part of this community makes you a helper and a helpee (yes I know I just made that word up). Realising you are not alone is encouraging, seeing your own feelings and emotions in others is enlightening, and making sense of it all is amazing. And miracles do happen.
    431 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • And the Lord said unto Lucy, "Rise, for you are healed…" 7 days and counting… One day going out dressed will be just a normal thing to do, it will feel natural and I won’t get butterflies thinking about it. I’d really like to be full-time, but need a change of circumstance or two for that to happen; as I’ve said before it’s just not possible at the moment, work, family, finances, location and so on (not to mention the need for facial surgery which I would seriously look into if I could afford it). In the meantime I have plenty of things I need to work on. I may never get to go full-time, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world; as long as I can get out from time to time, ok - as often as possible, I’ll be happy. At the moment going out is still an extremely exciting prospect; It’s hard to explain how much I hate having to go around as a man, without using lots of adjectives and foul language, so lets just say I don’t like it at all. That’s why going out dressed is so exciting; I’m well used to being dressed and getting made-up (still practice needed there though), but it’s the contrast between being out as a man and being out as my real self. I have to turn my mind off from it when I need to go out in drab, virtually every day, if I thought about it too much it would make me feel ill, and I’d never get out the door. I’ve never been happy about going out, I would describe it as a tendency towards agoraphobia (literally: fear of the market place, nothing to do with open spaces as many people think). I used to hate people seeing me in my drab state and so would scurry about avoiding eye contact with anyone when I was in public. But this is one way in which I have been changed by a greater understanding of myself, all brought about by what I’ve read and discussed on this site, and the realization of the effect that going out dressed has on me. The agoraphobia, and the self-destructive streak which I’ve mentioned previously is all down to an inability to accept myself, and when I write it down it’s perfectly bloody obvious why that should be. I’ve spent most of my life detesting myself, without admitting it, perhaps even realising it; and why shouldn’t I? I look like a man, and I’m expected to behave and dress accordingly. It feels perverse having to do that. It still doesn’t feel right but there has been a big change in how I feel about myself. I may not like my appearance but I can handle it now; mentally, I can cope. Actually it’s more than coping; I feel more than ever that I have an identity and that I’m happy with who I am, in fact I even quite like myself. Dressing at home has kept me going for a long time but now I feel there is so much more, and nothing seems so out of reach. These changes are not only effective when I’m dressed, I feel different all the time now, even out in drab, dealing with people at work, meeting strangers; all these things used to make me feel awkward at the very least, but now it’s no problem, I almost relish it. It’s because I know better than ever who I am, that I can be who I want to be, and even if I’m not dressed right I am still that person. I feel more like Lucy than I ever did, like she has truly been brought to life, and really like my body has been taken over by a different person. Lucy makes all the decisions now, and handles things the way she wants to, and I think she’s much nicer than the person that used to occupy this body. She used to only become apparent when I got home from work, slipped into something more comfortable and relaxed into a somewhat more feminine mode, but now she’s 24/7. This is the person I really am, the person I should have always been; at last I have found myself. I wonder if I ought to feel like I’ve wasted so much of my life being the wrong person, as it were, but I can see clearly why I’ve felt so wrong about myself. To suddenly feel right - a completely whole, happy and contented person is a bit of a miracle really. That’s how it feels, and I can’t look back and have regrets, because that miracle is just so astounding. Besides, Lucy isn’t like that; the old person who used to live here would regret stuff and wish things could have been different, but that’s no way to live and Lucy is much more aware of such things. Lucy looks forward to life, and doesn’t live in fear of anything. Even if she has to dress in stupid men’s clothes she is stronger in her mind, and feels happy inside, regardless of outward appearance. If I could apply the solutions for my problems to other people’s in the everyday world maybe I could become very rich. I could move to America and become a shrink, or write a book. But I doubt if the reasons behind other people’s problems are the same as mine, and I guess it’s unlikely that joining trannyweb and going out dressed as a woman would work for everyone. Now wouldn’t that be a nice simple solution to all the world’s problems? Seriously though, I do wish I could help people to come to terms with themselves the way I have done, and I don’t mean for financial gain. I may not be able to help people with "normal" problems, but I know what it’s like to be transgendered, and about the issues surrounding it, and I know that out of all the chaos and mental anguish it really is possible to find a positive route – a way up from the slippery slope. It’s all about self-realisation and accepting yourself. That may be something that ultimately no-one else can do for you, but I hope I can help, should anyone feel they need it. Well, we can all help, being part of this community makes you a helper and a helpee (yes I know I just made that word up). Realising you are not alone is encouraging, seeing your own feelings and emotions in others is enlightening, and making sense of it all is amazing. And miracles do happen.
    May 11, 2004 431
  • 07 May 2004
    All the World's a Stage Ten days until my next night out, only the second in Lucy's history. But things are looking up, there will be at least 3 nights out in the next month or so, possibly 4, but as all of them involve a fair bit of travelling and hotel expenses then 3 might have to do. My first night out in Edinburgh was really lovely, just eating out and wandering about and having a quiet drink. That's all I want to do really, just go out and do normal things, but the next few nights should be a bit different and I'm looking forward to them just as much as the first. I'll be meeting Cathy and Pippa in Manchester, maybe others too, for food, drinks and then on to a club. Then I'm hoping to meet up with a few girls, either at the Wayout club or at Transmission in London, and also at the Transmission second birthday party in Manchester. Each night should be quite a party. It'll be nice to be surrounded by people like myself; in a way it's quite sad that I'd never met any girls like myself before I went out with Cathy, at least none that have admitted to it. I have actually been out dressed in public before, several times in fact, but always on the premise that it was fancy dress and therefore just for fun - "a bit of a laugh". Needless to say I made quite an effort, perhaps too much, but it always felt good. I used to play in a band, very popular in the area, and we had several nights during our long history where we dressed up, none of them suggested by me; I often wonder just how many men, including my friends, secretly enjoy dressing in women's clothes, more than are prepared to admit I'm sure. Perhaps one of the best nights we had was when we all dressed as schoolgirls, I'm not especially fetishistic, if there is such a word, but school uniforms I quite like, though I don't intend to go into any amateur psychology on that one at the moment. I remember distinctly overhearing one guy during our break, pointing at me and saying to his girlfriend, "He looks good, he's got better legs than you..." You should have seen her face! She scowled at me, or rather at my legs, as I think she agreed with him. I'm sure it wasn't true though, my legs only look good from certain angles. Another thing that struck me that night was how much more the normally cool predatory males in the audience seemed to enjoy themselves, they were dancing on the tables, to the dismay of the management. Perhaps a few secret admirers around too maybe? I've never felt so good on stage; I've never ever felt sexy dressed as a man, quite an alien concept to me in fact. On another night with the band I wore a lovely blue taffeta ballgown, something else I love; oh the luxurious indulgence! I really should stop buying ballgowns, they take up too much space and I'm never going to have anything to wear them for, unless one of you girls wants to invite me out on a posh do. At the time of course, it was a good excuse to buy my first ballgown which was only £11, from a dress agency in town; one needs a good excuse to go into places like that; I can't go shopping without bumping into people I know, and have taken lots of risks, I know I shouldn't, but sometimes I just can't resist it. Shopping, now there's a good subject. We all love it I'm sure, and most of us probably do more of it than we should for the good of our bank balances, I know I do. My salary is fairly modest, and I only have very small savings to dip into for emergencies. I don't have enough clothes for going out though, so that has to be classed as an emergency. I kind of have a love/hate relationship with shopping though, no not quite hate, just love/feel awkward kind of thing. I've never been able to admit to any shop assistant that what I'm buying is for me, so just try to keep as low a profile as possible. It may take some courage to go out shopping en femme, but maybe one day, when I'm happier with my appearance. My biggest purchase to date was in Edinburgh. The weather forecast was for rain/sleet, thunder and high winds, so I decided a coat might be a good idea, and arrived in time to do some shopping for just that. I fancied a fur coat (fake of course), no idea how much they would be, but wasn't too optimistic. The first shop I went in was a leather shop, all garments made in-house by the Italian owners. I saw just the thing, soft suede and sheepskin longish coat, very nice. Saw the price tag of £1399.00 and turned around to hurry out of the shop, feeling very poverty-stricken. But Fabio the shop assistant caught me and asked me how much I wanted to pay. After some haggling, and heated conversation between him and his brother, in a way that Italians do so well, he agreed to let me have it for £220, but only if I bought it there and then, otherwise it would be £250 if I came back later. He obviously didn't believe I would come back, but I needed to at least have a look in Marks & Spencer. I did go back as Marks's were useless, and he did let me have it for £220, albeit begrudgingly. So that was well over a week's wages for something I wasn't going to wear that often, and as it turned out there was only a light drizzle and slight breeze that evening, but cool enough for the coat to be much needed. It felt wonderful, very feminine and warm and cosy, so it was worth it, and another new experience for me. To actually need a coat for going out was a nice feeling, but wearing it was even better. But summer is almost upon us so now I have to look for suitable clothes for the season, maybe including a light jacket, as British summers can be unpredictable, especially in Manchester. Not long to go now. Hopefully it will be snowing, and I can wear my lovely coat again!
    685 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • All the World's a Stage Ten days until my next night out, only the second in Lucy's history. But things are looking up, there will be at least 3 nights out in the next month or so, possibly 4, but as all of them involve a fair bit of travelling and hotel expenses then 3 might have to do. My first night out in Edinburgh was really lovely, just eating out and wandering about and having a quiet drink. That's all I want to do really, just go out and do normal things, but the next few nights should be a bit different and I'm looking forward to them just as much as the first. I'll be meeting Cathy and Pippa in Manchester, maybe others too, for food, drinks and then on to a club. Then I'm hoping to meet up with a few girls, either at the Wayout club or at Transmission in London, and also at the Transmission second birthday party in Manchester. Each night should be quite a party. It'll be nice to be surrounded by people like myself; in a way it's quite sad that I'd never met any girls like myself before I went out with Cathy, at least none that have admitted to it. I have actually been out dressed in public before, several times in fact, but always on the premise that it was fancy dress and therefore just for fun - "a bit of a laugh". Needless to say I made quite an effort, perhaps too much, but it always felt good. I used to play in a band, very popular in the area, and we had several nights during our long history where we dressed up, none of them suggested by me; I often wonder just how many men, including my friends, secretly enjoy dressing in women's clothes, more than are prepared to admit I'm sure. Perhaps one of the best nights we had was when we all dressed as schoolgirls, I'm not especially fetishistic, if there is such a word, but school uniforms I quite like, though I don't intend to go into any amateur psychology on that one at the moment. I remember distinctly overhearing one guy during our break, pointing at me and saying to his girlfriend, "He looks good, he's got better legs than you..." You should have seen her face! She scowled at me, or rather at my legs, as I think she agreed with him. I'm sure it wasn't true though, my legs only look good from certain angles. Another thing that struck me that night was how much more the normally cool predatory males in the audience seemed to enjoy themselves, they were dancing on the tables, to the dismay of the management. Perhaps a few secret admirers around too maybe? I've never felt so good on stage; I've never ever felt sexy dressed as a man, quite an alien concept to me in fact. On another night with the band I wore a lovely blue taffeta ballgown, something else I love; oh the luxurious indulgence! I really should stop buying ballgowns, they take up too much space and I'm never going to have anything to wear them for, unless one of you girls wants to invite me out on a posh do. At the time of course, it was a good excuse to buy my first ballgown which was only £11, from a dress agency in town; one needs a good excuse to go into places like that; I can't go shopping without bumping into people I know, and have taken lots of risks, I know I shouldn't, but sometimes I just can't resist it. Shopping, now there's a good subject. We all love it I'm sure, and most of us probably do more of it than we should for the good of our bank balances, I know I do. My salary is fairly modest, and I only have very small savings to dip into for emergencies. I don't have enough clothes for going out though, so that has to be classed as an emergency. I kind of have a love/hate relationship with shopping though, no not quite hate, just love/feel awkward kind of thing. I've never been able to admit to any shop assistant that what I'm buying is for me, so just try to keep as low a profile as possible. It may take some courage to go out shopping en femme, but maybe one day, when I'm happier with my appearance. My biggest purchase to date was in Edinburgh. The weather forecast was for rain/sleet, thunder and high winds, so I decided a coat might be a good idea, and arrived in time to do some shopping for just that. I fancied a fur coat (fake of course), no idea how much they would be, but wasn't too optimistic. The first shop I went in was a leather shop, all garments made in-house by the Italian owners. I saw just the thing, soft suede and sheepskin longish coat, very nice. Saw the price tag of £1399.00 and turned around to hurry out of the shop, feeling very poverty-stricken. But Fabio the shop assistant caught me and asked me how much I wanted to pay. After some haggling, and heated conversation between him and his brother, in a way that Italians do so well, he agreed to let me have it for £220, but only if I bought it there and then, otherwise it would be £250 if I came back later. He obviously didn't believe I would come back, but I needed to at least have a look in Marks & Spencer. I did go back as Marks's were useless, and he did let me have it for £220, albeit begrudgingly. So that was well over a week's wages for something I wasn't going to wear that often, and as it turned out there was only a light drizzle and slight breeze that evening, but cool enough for the coat to be much needed. It felt wonderful, very feminine and warm and cosy, so it was worth it, and another new experience for me. To actually need a coat for going out was a nice feeling, but wearing it was even better. But summer is almost upon us so now I have to look for suitable clothes for the season, maybe including a light jacket, as British summers can be unpredictable, especially in Manchester. Not long to go now. Hopefully it will be snowing, and I can wear my lovely coat again!
    May 07, 2004 685
  • 06 May 2004
    A statistician adds to the equation The law of averages states that it's only a matter of time before I get found out. For the purposes of this thesis we shall ignore the chaos theory, which would only serve to confuse the issue, and which can easily be proven by the state of my bedroom at the moment anyway. Which in itself is a salient point; when one lives on one's own it's very easy to become comfortable with one's surroundings and therefore complacent about such things as clothes, shoes and make up strewn about the place. I do try to be careful though, my room is my sanctuary and obviously I don't invite other people up there. There have been many close calls though, and so far I consider myself extremely lucky not to have found myself in any embarrassing situations. On more than one occasion I've left my shoes or cardigan downstairs, and last weekend I realised that I'd left some eye make-up remover on my bathroom shelf for about 3 days, fortunately no-one had been round. My heart skips a beat though when people ask to use the bathroom, as it's not the first time I've done something like that, so I always think, oh God what have I left in there that I shouldn't? Also I also keep coming across bits of glitter from my glam clothes, or Lucy's long blonde hairs on the furniture; I'm beginning to wonder if I should have been a forensic detective or something, as I seem to be so good at noticing such things. Lets hope no-one else spots these things so easily. My prepared excuse is that I had a girl round recently, which in itself would probably cause quite a stir, I haven't had a girlfriend for a few years, though it is known that I do have platonic female friends. Not ones with long blonde hair that wear glittery clothes though, and make-up remover in the bathroom points towards a not entirely platonic relationship in my book. This all sounds simple to keep in check though, regular hoovering, careful inspections of furniture and bathroom shelves should avoid any problems, but I can be a little forgetful at times, and I bloody hate hoovering. The real potential for disaster though, is the fact that my parents have spare keys to my house. They've had them for years and as far as I know have never actually used them, but it's easy to imagine a scenario where my mum for example wonders if I need any clothes for my birthday or Christmas, and has a quick peek in my wardrobe to see what I might need (mum – I could do with a couple of short skirts for the summer please!) Mum does pop round to see me, quite often, usually at weekends so I try to keep an eye out for her (as I'm always dressed), but she's caught me out a few times, and I've found myself hiding under the windowsill with her tapping away and yoo-hooing. You can't imagine how awful that feels, and I hate having to make up excuses, which are all getting a bit tired now anyway; usually things like, I had the headphones on so didn't hear... So my home is my castle but it's not impregnable. We can also introduce into the equation the influence that Lucy's persona has on the life and times of the other person she pretends to be, when in public. The pretence is not always easy to keep up, she can be a feisty lady, and doesn't like to be ignored. She certainly doesn't like to have stubble, or short hair, or stubby fingernails. So her hair grows longer every day, she'd really like to do away with the wig; she loves to grow her fingernails long especially when a night out is approaching, and she, or he in this case, probably shaves too often and too close for the good of her skin. OK 3rd person is getting too confusing so "she" will be "I" from now on, whether disguised as a man or not. I'm also using various hormone products, as yet I don't think this has had any great effect on my appearance other than slightly softer skin (my skin is still not in a good state though, a great source or frustration for me). And I have an intense aversion to body hair, except for where it's supposed to be, so get through a fair amount of depilatory cream. I'm always careful to keep my socks pulled up so as not to expose my ankles, and cuffs pulled down to the wrist, which is a relatively new habit I've had to get into (no short-sleeves for me this summer). Put all these parts of the equation together and what do you get? Well I think it all adds up to some fairly good reasons for people to be slightly suspicious, possibly explaining the occasional odd look I get, and plenty of chances for Lucy to be discovered. The longer than average hair alone would probably account for the few (male) visitors at work recently who addressed me as dear, or love (from the other end of the room, with my head behind the computer screen), I guess they just weren't looking properly, and I was actually quite pleased, whilst they were totally embarrassed when I stood up and they realised their mistake (I could see it in their faces - "I'm not gay, honest....") So should I be more careful? Try to hide it more? Neither is really an option. Not enough space at home to keep things hidden well enough to avoid all possibilities of being found out, and I simply can't tolerate my male characteristics enough to restrain myself from using any method of feminisation I can. But I'm not a bad actor, and though I'm sick of the role, in a Ken Barlow-esque sort of way, I'm well used to playing the part of a man, boring as it may be. But it's Lucy that motivates me, she is always there, regardless of what I'm wearing, and it's Lucy that's living this life, not that other person. I used to think that if Lucy were to be discovered my life would be over, my life would be made a misery by my friends and all those around me. I think the fear of ridicule was the thing that worried me most, but not anymore. Perhaps because I believe in myself a lot more now. People can say what they like but I know who I am, and nothing or no-one will ever change me. So I have to live my life in the way that’s right for me, I still wish lots of things were different but I’m working on those. Whilst I still wish to avoid being found out, I no longer live in fear of it, and have made far too many compromises in the past because of that. I can even see positive things coming out of it that I never imagined in the past. I don’t know if it’s possible to go on making excuses and little white lies indefinitely; it’s only a matter of time before someone close to me notices that something about me really isn’t quite as it should be. They will probably think it’s my mind that’s not quite right, but of course it’s not, it’s my body, so what’s the big deal about that? Well girls, you and I know it’s just a case of right mind wrong body, but society may take some time to accept that. Which I guess is why I don’t just come out and admit it to everyone. But one day that may be forced upon me, so I need to be prepared for it. I believe I am well on my way. Lucy would love for the whole world to meet her, even if they think she’s a freak, but for the time being she’s happy as she is, and making new friends all the time. So I see no need to force the issue. I shall just get on with my life, go on being the best person I can be and do what I have to do. I believe if you try not to be the person you really are, you’re going to give yourself a whole lot of grief. So all I want to do is allow myself to shine. I’ve been in the shadows for far too long.
    402 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • A statistician adds to the equation The law of averages states that it's only a matter of time before I get found out. For the purposes of this thesis we shall ignore the chaos theory, which would only serve to confuse the issue, and which can easily be proven by the state of my bedroom at the moment anyway. Which in itself is a salient point; when one lives on one's own it's very easy to become comfortable with one's surroundings and therefore complacent about such things as clothes, shoes and make up strewn about the place. I do try to be careful though, my room is my sanctuary and obviously I don't invite other people up there. There have been many close calls though, and so far I consider myself extremely lucky not to have found myself in any embarrassing situations. On more than one occasion I've left my shoes or cardigan downstairs, and last weekend I realised that I'd left some eye make-up remover on my bathroom shelf for about 3 days, fortunately no-one had been round. My heart skips a beat though when people ask to use the bathroom, as it's not the first time I've done something like that, so I always think, oh God what have I left in there that I shouldn't? Also I also keep coming across bits of glitter from my glam clothes, or Lucy's long blonde hairs on the furniture; I'm beginning to wonder if I should have been a forensic detective or something, as I seem to be so good at noticing such things. Lets hope no-one else spots these things so easily. My prepared excuse is that I had a girl round recently, which in itself would probably cause quite a stir, I haven't had a girlfriend for a few years, though it is known that I do have platonic female friends. Not ones with long blonde hair that wear glittery clothes though, and make-up remover in the bathroom points towards a not entirely platonic relationship in my book. This all sounds simple to keep in check though, regular hoovering, careful inspections of furniture and bathroom shelves should avoid any problems, but I can be a little forgetful at times, and I bloody hate hoovering. The real potential for disaster though, is the fact that my parents have spare keys to my house. They've had them for years and as far as I know have never actually used them, but it's easy to imagine a scenario where my mum for example wonders if I need any clothes for my birthday or Christmas, and has a quick peek in my wardrobe to see what I might need (mum – I could do with a couple of short skirts for the summer please!) Mum does pop round to see me, quite often, usually at weekends so I try to keep an eye out for her (as I'm always dressed), but she's caught me out a few times, and I've found myself hiding under the windowsill with her tapping away and yoo-hooing. You can't imagine how awful that feels, and I hate having to make up excuses, which are all getting a bit tired now anyway; usually things like, I had the headphones on so didn't hear... So my home is my castle but it's not impregnable. We can also introduce into the equation the influence that Lucy's persona has on the life and times of the other person she pretends to be, when in public. The pretence is not always easy to keep up, she can be a feisty lady, and doesn't like to be ignored. She certainly doesn't like to have stubble, or short hair, or stubby fingernails. So her hair grows longer every day, she'd really like to do away with the wig; she loves to grow her fingernails long especially when a night out is approaching, and she, or he in this case, probably shaves too often and too close for the good of her skin. OK 3rd person is getting too confusing so "she" will be "I" from now on, whether disguised as a man or not. I'm also using various hormone products, as yet I don't think this has had any great effect on my appearance other than slightly softer skin (my skin is still not in a good state though, a great source or frustration for me). And I have an intense aversion to body hair, except for where it's supposed to be, so get through a fair amount of depilatory cream. I'm always careful to keep my socks pulled up so as not to expose my ankles, and cuffs pulled down to the wrist, which is a relatively new habit I've had to get into (no short-sleeves for me this summer). Put all these parts of the equation together and what do you get? Well I think it all adds up to some fairly good reasons for people to be slightly suspicious, possibly explaining the occasional odd look I get, and plenty of chances for Lucy to be discovered. The longer than average hair alone would probably account for the few (male) visitors at work recently who addressed me as dear, or love (from the other end of the room, with my head behind the computer screen), I guess they just weren't looking properly, and I was actually quite pleased, whilst they were totally embarrassed when I stood up and they realised their mistake (I could see it in their faces - "I'm not gay, honest....") So should I be more careful? Try to hide it more? Neither is really an option. Not enough space at home to keep things hidden well enough to avoid all possibilities of being found out, and I simply can't tolerate my male characteristics enough to restrain myself from using any method of feminisation I can. But I'm not a bad actor, and though I'm sick of the role, in a Ken Barlow-esque sort of way, I'm well used to playing the part of a man, boring as it may be. But it's Lucy that motivates me, she is always there, regardless of what I'm wearing, and it's Lucy that's living this life, not that other person. I used to think that if Lucy were to be discovered my life would be over, my life would be made a misery by my friends and all those around me. I think the fear of ridicule was the thing that worried me most, but not anymore. Perhaps because I believe in myself a lot more now. People can say what they like but I know who I am, and nothing or no-one will ever change me. So I have to live my life in the way that’s right for me, I still wish lots of things were different but I’m working on those. Whilst I still wish to avoid being found out, I no longer live in fear of it, and have made far too many compromises in the past because of that. I can even see positive things coming out of it that I never imagined in the past. I don’t know if it’s possible to go on making excuses and little white lies indefinitely; it’s only a matter of time before someone close to me notices that something about me really isn’t quite as it should be. They will probably think it’s my mind that’s not quite right, but of course it’s not, it’s my body, so what’s the big deal about that? Well girls, you and I know it’s just a case of right mind wrong body, but society may take some time to accept that. Which I guess is why I don’t just come out and admit it to everyone. But one day that may be forced upon me, so I need to be prepared for it. I believe I am well on my way. Lucy would love for the whole world to meet her, even if they think she’s a freak, but for the time being she’s happy as she is, and making new friends all the time. So I see no need to force the issue. I shall just get on with my life, go on being the best person I can be and do what I have to do. I believe if you try not to be the person you really are, you’re going to give yourself a whole lot of grief. So all I want to do is allow myself to shine. I’ve been in the shadows for far too long.
    May 06, 2004 402
  • 05 May 2004
    An amateur psychologist speaks Putting your thoughts down in writing can be surprisingly satisfying, I often find it has a cathartic effect. It occurred to me once that if I were to get run over by a bus, or similar tragic accident were to happen (not that I worry about these things), my parents would have the unfortunate task of clearing my house. When they got to my bedroom they would be in for a big, big shock. Opening my wardrobe they would probably jump to the conclusion that I had a live-in lover that I hadn't told them about. My wardrobe contains about 3 t-shirts, and the rest, well you can see some of it in my album pics, but basically it's bulging with the strain of all my proper clothes. Moving on from the wardrobe they'd come across my knicker draw (wow, this girlfriend really loves her knickers, I can hear them say), but then, if they hadn't already cottoned on to the real reason for all these clothes, they would start finding things that would probably shock them to their very core: Transformation mag's, pills, creams and potions, breastforms etc. Now if I was still alive and they found all this then I sure they'd want to give me a good talking too, and I promise I'd give them the same back, but the thought of them finding out without me around to answer their questions, and to try and offer some sort of explanation, is not something I'd wish upon them. The thought of their utter consternation upsets me and I suppose what I'd really want is for them to know that I was all right, my life was fine, I wasn't all screwed up, doing what I did made me happy, in fact it was essential for my very existence. I'd kind of like them to know all that now, but would find it very difficult to explain sufficiently for them to actually be happy about it. So anyway I decided to write it down and leave it lying around somewhere they'd find it, amongst all the clothes and paraphernalia. This was the first time I'd ever tried to put my feelings about myself and my, er, "condition" into words. Once I started, the words just seemed to flow from my fingertips, and I've never been a very good writer, but when I'd finished it was like, whoa! It reminded me of Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure, where Sigmund Freud gives one of them a quick diagnosis, explaining the reasons for his persona in a few sentences, not that I'm a fan of such films, but If you've seen it you'll know how I felt. It also occurred to me that all the Americans who visit their shrink every week, should just try to write a letter to their parents explaining the things they find difficult to discuss face to face, maybe they’d find it would have the same effect on them as it did on me, and save themselves a fortune on fees. Though having said that, I've never felt like I needed a shrink, but ever since I actually tried to put it all into words, and since chatting with other like-minded people on this site, I believe I know myself a whole lot better, and generally feel good about myself. I've never really had a problem accepting my condition, apart from times when I was a child wondering what was going on, and as a teenager, thinking none of my mates probably dressed up in their mum's clothes so maybe I shouldn't be doing it. But until now I've accepted it, with some frustration perhaps that there is no realistic way of ever being truly myself, and got on with it in the best way I can. Things have improved from that now though, I may never get to "go all the way", but I can be myself, and don't feel that if I can't be a woman things will never be quite right. I'm still hiding of course, no plans yet of coming out to all those around me, but if I can get out of town to meet some other girls then that will keep me going, and even when I don't have the opportunity, I now know that there's nothing to be nervous about, nothing to fear, and nothing within myself holding me back. That's a great feeling of freedom, especially when you've had these little hang-ups all your life that stop you getting out there and doing what you really want. My only regret, and it's a small one, is that I didn't do this sooner, when I was young and pretty (ok - debatable), but the Internet hadn't been invented then, and without it I would never have met you lot, who have helped me more than you'll ever know. In the last couple of weeks, I've been approached by a few newcomers onsite, looking for practical advice, and support in general I think. I'm only too happy to give that, if I can help in any small way to change someone the way I've been changed then I'll be feeling even better about myself. I want to give something back (I'm now a paying member, Katie! And It's worth every penny, so get your hands in your purses all you basic members). So what I want to say today to old and new members is, believe in this site, and the people on it. Anyone who's going through mental turmoil, don't despair - we may be able to help, or you may even discover that there are ways of helping yourself. Unlike those advertisements in the newspapers for books promising miracles, I know this to be true: This site can change your life!
    487 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • An amateur psychologist speaks Putting your thoughts down in writing can be surprisingly satisfying, I often find it has a cathartic effect. It occurred to me once that if I were to get run over by a bus, or similar tragic accident were to happen (not that I worry about these things), my parents would have the unfortunate task of clearing my house. When they got to my bedroom they would be in for a big, big shock. Opening my wardrobe they would probably jump to the conclusion that I had a live-in lover that I hadn't told them about. My wardrobe contains about 3 t-shirts, and the rest, well you can see some of it in my album pics, but basically it's bulging with the strain of all my proper clothes. Moving on from the wardrobe they'd come across my knicker draw (wow, this girlfriend really loves her knickers, I can hear them say), but then, if they hadn't already cottoned on to the real reason for all these clothes, they would start finding things that would probably shock them to their very core: Transformation mag's, pills, creams and potions, breastforms etc. Now if I was still alive and they found all this then I sure they'd want to give me a good talking too, and I promise I'd give them the same back, but the thought of them finding out without me around to answer their questions, and to try and offer some sort of explanation, is not something I'd wish upon them. The thought of their utter consternation upsets me and I suppose what I'd really want is for them to know that I was all right, my life was fine, I wasn't all screwed up, doing what I did made me happy, in fact it was essential for my very existence. I'd kind of like them to know all that now, but would find it very difficult to explain sufficiently for them to actually be happy about it. So anyway I decided to write it down and leave it lying around somewhere they'd find it, amongst all the clothes and paraphernalia. This was the first time I'd ever tried to put my feelings about myself and my, er, "condition" into words. Once I started, the words just seemed to flow from my fingertips, and I've never been a very good writer, but when I'd finished it was like, whoa! It reminded me of Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure, where Sigmund Freud gives one of them a quick diagnosis, explaining the reasons for his persona in a few sentences, not that I'm a fan of such films, but If you've seen it you'll know how I felt. It also occurred to me that all the Americans who visit their shrink every week, should just try to write a letter to their parents explaining the things they find difficult to discuss face to face, maybe they’d find it would have the same effect on them as it did on me, and save themselves a fortune on fees. Though having said that, I've never felt like I needed a shrink, but ever since I actually tried to put it all into words, and since chatting with other like-minded people on this site, I believe I know myself a whole lot better, and generally feel good about myself. I've never really had a problem accepting my condition, apart from times when I was a child wondering what was going on, and as a teenager, thinking none of my mates probably dressed up in their mum's clothes so maybe I shouldn't be doing it. But until now I've accepted it, with some frustration perhaps that there is no realistic way of ever being truly myself, and got on with it in the best way I can. Things have improved from that now though, I may never get to "go all the way", but I can be myself, and don't feel that if I can't be a woman things will never be quite right. I'm still hiding of course, no plans yet of coming out to all those around me, but if I can get out of town to meet some other girls then that will keep me going, and even when I don't have the opportunity, I now know that there's nothing to be nervous about, nothing to fear, and nothing within myself holding me back. That's a great feeling of freedom, especially when you've had these little hang-ups all your life that stop you getting out there and doing what you really want. My only regret, and it's a small one, is that I didn't do this sooner, when I was young and pretty (ok - debatable), but the Internet hadn't been invented then, and without it I would never have met you lot, who have helped me more than you'll ever know. In the last couple of weeks, I've been approached by a few newcomers onsite, looking for practical advice, and support in general I think. I'm only too happy to give that, if I can help in any small way to change someone the way I've been changed then I'll be feeling even better about myself. I want to give something back (I'm now a paying member, Katie! And It's worth every penny, so get your hands in your purses all you basic members). So what I want to say today to old and new members is, believe in this site, and the people on it. Anyone who's going through mental turmoil, don't despair - we may be able to help, or you may even discover that there are ways of helping yourself. Unlike those advertisements in the newspapers for books promising miracles, I know this to be true: This site can change your life!
    May 05, 2004 487
  • 04 May 2004
    Life in Lucyland - the story so far I suppose I joined this site mainly to talk to people who I could share my thoughts and emotions with; having felt somewhat isolated all my life, and living for the last 10 years on my own, fortunately able to dress as I please, but never having met anyone in the same boat. Even if I couldn’t get to meet anyone it would be nice to chat with some other girls, if only to discuss little things, like is blue eye-shadow really ok to wear or did that go out with Abba (no, Nena wears it and it looks good on her), or where can I get a dress with size 14 shoulders and size 10 hips? What I didn’t anticipate was the profound effect being a member of this community has had on me. I’ve been here 2 months now and to say my life has changed is no exaggeration. In fact I have changed, my outlook on life, and above all my feelings about myself, and needless to say, greatly for the better. I’ve had the pleasure of chatting to some truly lovely, positive and supportive people, and what’s more I’ve been out dressed for the first time in my life, which was the most wonderful feeling I have ever felt, and I’ve felt a few, but nothing coming close to that. I knew it would feel wonderful, it’s something I’ve wanted to do for as long as I can remember, so I guess I needed it badly after so many years. As a child I had recurring dreams of being a girl, and when I awoke I knew something didn’t feel right; I’d desperately try to get back to sleep, back to the place where I felt right, in my little gingham dress. If mummy left clothes lying around I’d try them on, never feeling right in my own clothes, of course nothing fitted but it felt a whole lot better than my little boy’s stuff that I had to wear. So all my life it’s been in the back of my mind, steadily progressing towards the front; I wasn’t supposed to be a boy, I should be a girl. No-one knows, apart from one very good friend who I know I can trust, and all you girls of course. My family is the biggest stumbling block I have against coming out, closely followed by my work colleagues and the small-town mentality of the people who live around here in general. I can’t bring myself to tell them, maybe one day I’ll find a way, but I think in my present situation it’s not really an option. So until a couple of months ago, not admitting to anyone or even myself, I had been slowly but surely sinking into depression and despair. What started as a slight self-destructive streak was becoming a slow, progressive suicide. I now know where my self-destructive streak comes from; my inability to accept myself. I won’t say I’m cured, old habits die hard, but I’m well on the road to recovery; I can now see a way out, a light at the end of the tunnel, and although I didn’t realise it until I saw it, it was much, much needed. I’ve now realised that I do have a rightful place in the world, I may have been born not quite right, but everything’s in the right place inside me, which is what matters. Obviously the biggest thing so far has been going out. It was a quiet night, I met up with Cat, who had been so encouraging, we ate out, visited some bars and walked around town – no big deal? Yes big deal, to be out in public dressed in a way that actually felt right was a point in my life that is hard to describe. I felt myself, instead of that other person I’ve pretended to be all my life. I felt confident, happy, and at peace with myself (not sure if I’ve ever felt like that in my blokey state). If people looked at me and noticed I was a man in a dress I didn’t mind, in fact I was happy for them to see that, because whatever I am, this is what I’m supposed to be wearing so like it or lump it, people. In fact the evening confirmed lots of things for me, but also showed me things about myself which I wasn’t expecting. Basically it made me feel better about myself, finding my place, maybe only part-way to where I really want to be but bloody hell it’ll do for now! The plan now is to go out again, really as much as possible, though this can be quite tricky with a loving family who always want to know what I’m doing, or what I’ve been up to, if only they knew. I hate lying, but have to be economical with the truth to protect myself and them, and just to avoid any grief in general. I guess you could say I’ve found myself, I always knew I was there, hidden away, but when the real me finally got out it was enlightening, and truly wonderful. I shall never look back. Thank-you sisters, for helping me to look forward. xx
    487 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • Life in Lucyland - the story so far I suppose I joined this site mainly to talk to people who I could share my thoughts and emotions with; having felt somewhat isolated all my life, and living for the last 10 years on my own, fortunately able to dress as I please, but never having met anyone in the same boat. Even if I couldn’t get to meet anyone it would be nice to chat with some other girls, if only to discuss little things, like is blue eye-shadow really ok to wear or did that go out with Abba (no, Nena wears it and it looks good on her), or where can I get a dress with size 14 shoulders and size 10 hips? What I didn’t anticipate was the profound effect being a member of this community has had on me. I’ve been here 2 months now and to say my life has changed is no exaggeration. In fact I have changed, my outlook on life, and above all my feelings about myself, and needless to say, greatly for the better. I’ve had the pleasure of chatting to some truly lovely, positive and supportive people, and what’s more I’ve been out dressed for the first time in my life, which was the most wonderful feeling I have ever felt, and I’ve felt a few, but nothing coming close to that. I knew it would feel wonderful, it’s something I’ve wanted to do for as long as I can remember, so I guess I needed it badly after so many years. As a child I had recurring dreams of being a girl, and when I awoke I knew something didn’t feel right; I’d desperately try to get back to sleep, back to the place where I felt right, in my little gingham dress. If mummy left clothes lying around I’d try them on, never feeling right in my own clothes, of course nothing fitted but it felt a whole lot better than my little boy’s stuff that I had to wear. So all my life it’s been in the back of my mind, steadily progressing towards the front; I wasn’t supposed to be a boy, I should be a girl. No-one knows, apart from one very good friend who I know I can trust, and all you girls of course. My family is the biggest stumbling block I have against coming out, closely followed by my work colleagues and the small-town mentality of the people who live around here in general. I can’t bring myself to tell them, maybe one day I’ll find a way, but I think in my present situation it’s not really an option. So until a couple of months ago, not admitting to anyone or even myself, I had been slowly but surely sinking into depression and despair. What started as a slight self-destructive streak was becoming a slow, progressive suicide. I now know where my self-destructive streak comes from; my inability to accept myself. I won’t say I’m cured, old habits die hard, but I’m well on the road to recovery; I can now see a way out, a light at the end of the tunnel, and although I didn’t realise it until I saw it, it was much, much needed. I’ve now realised that I do have a rightful place in the world, I may have been born not quite right, but everything’s in the right place inside me, which is what matters. Obviously the biggest thing so far has been going out. It was a quiet night, I met up with Cat, who had been so encouraging, we ate out, visited some bars and walked around town – no big deal? Yes big deal, to be out in public dressed in a way that actually felt right was a point in my life that is hard to describe. I felt myself, instead of that other person I’ve pretended to be all my life. I felt confident, happy, and at peace with myself (not sure if I’ve ever felt like that in my blokey state). If people looked at me and noticed I was a man in a dress I didn’t mind, in fact I was happy for them to see that, because whatever I am, this is what I’m supposed to be wearing so like it or lump it, people. In fact the evening confirmed lots of things for me, but also showed me things about myself which I wasn’t expecting. Basically it made me feel better about myself, finding my place, maybe only part-way to where I really want to be but bloody hell it’ll do for now! The plan now is to go out again, really as much as possible, though this can be quite tricky with a loving family who always want to know what I’m doing, or what I’ve been up to, if only they knew. I hate lying, but have to be economical with the truth to protect myself and them, and just to avoid any grief in general. I guess you could say I’ve found myself, I always knew I was there, hidden away, but when the real me finally got out it was enlightening, and truly wonderful. I shall never look back. Thank-you sisters, for helping me to look forward. xx
    May 04, 2004 487
  • 16 Sep 2007
    …before I fly to Thailand. Less than 2 more weeks of being a man. Obviously I’m not really a man, I never have been, but I will be finally losing those parts that define me as male, at least as far as the doctor who signed my birth certificate was concerned. Easy mistake to make I guess, but at least I can get a new birth certificate now, in fact you don’t need the surgery to do that in this country, but more important than any legal do***ent that says what gender I am, is the chance, the reality now, of correcting this somewhat severe birth defect. It’s all a bit surreal at the moment though. I can’t imagine how it will be having to stay in a bed for 7 days, not being allowed to go to the toilet, all those tubes and stitches and bandages, not standing up for a whole week, weird. And of course, not having that ugly growth that still looks out of place even after 44 years. I just can’t imagine quite how it’s all going to be, but I guess I will soon know, and I’m certain, absolutely certain that I am doing the right thing, that I need this change to my body, that I must do this and that there is no other way to live the rest of my life. Actually I’m really looking forward to it, of course I’ll be glad when it’s all over, I know it’s going to be a bit gruelling, with a long, uncomfortable recovery, but every time I think of it I’m just really happy that it’s finally about to happen. And I’m quite excited about getting on a plane again after more than ten years, and seeing a bit of the world. I love all that, so exciting. So I’ve been mad busy cleaning my house, rearranging my bedroom and stuff, ready for being an invalid for a while. I can’t wait to go away, but I bet I’ll be glad to be back home too! I’ve been winding down the hormones for a few weeks, and am now down to one measly squirt of Oestrogel a day – 0.75mg. In fact today is my last day, tomorrow will be the first day in three years that I haven’t taken female hormones, gulp. Can’t say I’ve noticed feeling any different yet, guess I might do after a week of no hormones at all, but I don’t think that is enough time for any significant testosterone effects to occur. According to all my blood tests my testo has been in the low female range since I started on the oestrogen (as I keep trying to point out in the forums, taking oestrogen lowers testo significantly without the use of any anti-androgens, but no-one seems to believe me). I’m sure my testo levels were reasonably normal before, but now I can’t imagine having any substantial amount in my system at all. But there’ll be no chance of that in a couple of weeks time. The rain came back today, after officially the wettest summer on record in this country, we’ve had a bit of an Indian summer, a few weeks of quite pleasant weather, but Autumn is definitely here now, and in this part of the world that means winter is not far away. It’s a good time to go away, it’ll be bloody hot in Thailand, and me and my mum will get back some of the summer that was robbed from us this year. One week to go… a good time to change my body, change my life, finally and forever. Thailand, and true, physical womanhood (as near as I can get), here I come! xx
    459 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • …before I fly to Thailand. Less than 2 more weeks of being a man. Obviously I’m not really a man, I never have been, but I will be finally losing those parts that define me as male, at least as far as the doctor who signed my birth certificate was concerned. Easy mistake to make I guess, but at least I can get a new birth certificate now, in fact you don’t need the surgery to do that in this country, but more important than any legal do***ent that says what gender I am, is the chance, the reality now, of correcting this somewhat severe birth defect. It’s all a bit surreal at the moment though. I can’t imagine how it will be having to stay in a bed for 7 days, not being allowed to go to the toilet, all those tubes and stitches and bandages, not standing up for a whole week, weird. And of course, not having that ugly growth that still looks out of place even after 44 years. I just can’t imagine quite how it’s all going to be, but I guess I will soon know, and I’m certain, absolutely certain that I am doing the right thing, that I need this change to my body, that I must do this and that there is no other way to live the rest of my life. Actually I’m really looking forward to it, of course I’ll be glad when it’s all over, I know it’s going to be a bit gruelling, with a long, uncomfortable recovery, but every time I think of it I’m just really happy that it’s finally about to happen. And I’m quite excited about getting on a plane again after more than ten years, and seeing a bit of the world. I love all that, so exciting. So I’ve been mad busy cleaning my house, rearranging my bedroom and stuff, ready for being an invalid for a while. I can’t wait to go away, but I bet I’ll be glad to be back home too! I’ve been winding down the hormones for a few weeks, and am now down to one measly squirt of Oestrogel a day – 0.75mg. In fact today is my last day, tomorrow will be the first day in three years that I haven’t taken female hormones, gulp. Can’t say I’ve noticed feeling any different yet, guess I might do after a week of no hormones at all, but I don’t think that is enough time for any significant testosterone effects to occur. According to all my blood tests my testo has been in the low female range since I started on the oestrogen (as I keep trying to point out in the forums, taking oestrogen lowers testo significantly without the use of any anti-androgens, but no-one seems to believe me). I’m sure my testo levels were reasonably normal before, but now I can’t imagine having any substantial amount in my system at all. But there’ll be no chance of that in a couple of weeks time. The rain came back today, after officially the wettest summer on record in this country, we’ve had a bit of an Indian summer, a few weeks of quite pleasant weather, but Autumn is definitely here now, and in this part of the world that means winter is not far away. It’s a good time to go away, it’ll be bloody hot in Thailand, and me and my mum will get back some of the summer that was robbed from us this year. One week to go… a good time to change my body, change my life, finally and forever. Thailand, and true, physical womanhood (as near as I can get), here I come! xx
    Sep 16, 2007 459