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  • 18 Dec 2017
    Hey everyone, wow, it's been a while since I was last on here. Not a whole lot new besides seeing a new counselor, but finally, this one is specialized in gender reassignment surgery and has many transgender patients so I'm glad to finally be seeing one. What I wanted to bring up was my book, actually. I've been talking with my counselor about it and it's based on myself and what happened between a friend and I for those who don't know. I'm a little unsure about how to end the story, to be honest. See, my counselor says I have both qualifications for gender identity AND Body Dysmorphic Disorder. I wanted to end my story with my character getting the sex change and having a happy ending, but hearing that I have both... Well, supposedly, that's rare or not even possible? I don't really want to wait around until I have a final diagnosis to write this story and figured I have two or three options on endings for this story...   Ending 1: MC loses their best and only friend, gets the sex change, ultimately accepts themselves as transsexual happily. Ending 2: Same as above except the MC does NOT get sex change and is diagnosed with both GID and BDD and has more of a open ending. Ending 3: Same as above once again but MC learns they have BDD and only wanted to be a man because their father made being a woman seem so inferior and horrible.    I know ending three can come off as offensive so I probably shouldn't go with it, right? It's something my mom has told me time and time again and now even my counselor is telling me how my father seems to have had such a big impact on who I am today... I believe I will always see myself as trans because I've felt like a guy for so long, but I can't deny that what my father has said about women hasn't helped me want to be a woman at all. Please let me know what ending you think I should pick as this story is only meant to be based on myself, not 100% accurate so really, any ending could work.
    453 Posted by Kris McKinley
  • Hey everyone, wow, it's been a while since I was last on here. Not a whole lot new besides seeing a new counselor, but finally, this one is specialized in gender reassignment surgery and has many transgender patients so I'm glad to finally be seeing one. What I wanted to bring up was my book, actually. I've been talking with my counselor about it and it's based on myself and what happened between a friend and I for those who don't know. I'm a little unsure about how to end the story, to be honest. See, my counselor says I have both qualifications for gender identity AND Body Dysmorphic Disorder. I wanted to end my story with my character getting the sex change and having a happy ending, but hearing that I have both... Well, supposedly, that's rare or not even possible? I don't really want to wait around until I have a final diagnosis to write this story and figured I have two or three options on endings for this story...   Ending 1: MC loses their best and only friend, gets the sex change, ultimately accepts themselves as transsexual happily. Ending 2: Same as above except the MC does NOT get sex change and is diagnosed with both GID and BDD and has more of a open ending. Ending 3: Same as above once again but MC learns they have BDD and only wanted to be a man because their father made being a woman seem so inferior and horrible.    I know ending three can come off as offensive so I probably shouldn't go with it, right? It's something my mom has told me time and time again and now even my counselor is telling me how my father seems to have had such a big impact on who I am today... I believe I will always see myself as trans because I've felt like a guy for so long, but I can't deny that what my father has said about women hasn't helped me want to be a woman at all. Please let me know what ending you think I should pick as this story is only meant to be based on myself, not 100% accurate so really, any ending could work.
    Dec 18, 2017 453
  • 06 Dec 2017
    Hi At the end of my local park stand a gaggle of rather forlorn recycling bins. There are beyond the railings and so turn their backs upon the park (or Fields) and gape open-mouthed towards a main road. I've no idea how frequently they are attended to. No kerb crawling is allowed here due to the double yellow-lines, so if you are to engage with them you cannot flirt so you must - in full view, walk up to them. Standing in their midst is a large metal bin, as tough as nails. But if you get it to open up it's softer inside as it houses the memories of once loved clothes now discarded or readied for re-use. All of my clothes and shoes now lie in there, still. A more diminutive bin half a mile away, clearly marked 'Rubbish', contains my wig and all of my make-up. Correction, these are not mine anymore and will most probably not be anothers, their time is spent. They are tousled, teased, twinkled and tipped. So that's it then, easy really wasn't it? I was once transsexual but now I'm not. Why didn't someone tell me it was that straightforward? The relief of disposing of those deceitful artefacts is extreme; extremely short. I return home cleansed and the post has delivered two of my wife's January magazines - and it's the 6th December!. I can't look because the plastic protects them. These are mid-winter editions with post Christmas issues, they will encourage new-beginnings, healthiness and a respite from over-indulgence. Well, I suspect they may. But I have just purged, I'm setting the agenda, I am indeed now self-evidently a woman ahead of the curve..! Now here's the rub. I'm actually a woman lacking curves and now clothes and make-up too. The recycling bins might stand forlornly, but they are a resilient bunch. You can't just charm your way in, hassle them and hope they give you something for nothing. They're not charitable that way and if you give, you're spent. Let me return to a favourite reflection of mine, that of the elliptical trajectory that I travel upon. Today I suspect I have been at the outer reaches, beyond the railings. I have disposed of the largest hoard yet and so this ellipse may be the most significantly sized one I've travelled upon. If I have just commenced a return orbit then I may be in for some significant G-Force in the coming weeks or months.  Chilly winter without clothing, perhaps I need something in order to wrap up..? Rachel x
    387 Posted by Rachel de Blanc
  • Hi At the end of my local park stand a gaggle of rather forlorn recycling bins. There are beyond the railings and so turn their backs upon the park (or Fields) and gape open-mouthed towards a main road. I've no idea how frequently they are attended to. No kerb crawling is allowed here due to the double yellow-lines, so if you are to engage with them you cannot flirt so you must - in full view, walk up to them. Standing in their midst is a large metal bin, as tough as nails. But if you get it to open up it's softer inside as it houses the memories of once loved clothes now discarded or readied for re-use. All of my clothes and shoes now lie in there, still. A more diminutive bin half a mile away, clearly marked 'Rubbish', contains my wig and all of my make-up. Correction, these are not mine anymore and will most probably not be anothers, their time is spent. They are tousled, teased, twinkled and tipped. So that's it then, easy really wasn't it? I was once transsexual but now I'm not. Why didn't someone tell me it was that straightforward? The relief of disposing of those deceitful artefacts is extreme; extremely short. I return home cleansed and the post has delivered two of my wife's January magazines - and it's the 6th December!. I can't look because the plastic protects them. These are mid-winter editions with post Christmas issues, they will encourage new-beginnings, healthiness and a respite from over-indulgence. Well, I suspect they may. But I have just purged, I'm setting the agenda, I am indeed now self-evidently a woman ahead of the curve..! Now here's the rub. I'm actually a woman lacking curves and now clothes and make-up too. The recycling bins might stand forlornly, but they are a resilient bunch. You can't just charm your way in, hassle them and hope they give you something for nothing. They're not charitable that way and if you give, you're spent. Let me return to a favourite reflection of mine, that of the elliptical trajectory that I travel upon. Today I suspect I have been at the outer reaches, beyond the railings. I have disposed of the largest hoard yet and so this ellipse may be the most significantly sized one I've travelled upon. If I have just commenced a return orbit then I may be in for some significant G-Force in the coming weeks or months.  Chilly winter without clothing, perhaps I need something in order to wrap up..? Rachel x
    Dec 06, 2017 387
  • 06 Dec 2017
    I set out on this my 'Great Journey' with a full rucksack of suitable female clothing for all eventualities, weathers and occasions, suitable foot-wear (not 5" Jimmy Choos), toiletries and a somewhat naive but strong sense of purpose and direction. It started with a week's solo walk across the  North Country, the "Cleveland Way": no big deal for a Swiss Registered High Mountain Guide, I thought. How utterly wrong I was! I frankly have no real idea what triggered my need to pursue the lifelong question of who exactly I was. I can only think that life is controlled in the same way as the 'biscuit' one pushed into old-fashioned washing machines: once inserted it undertoook its progress without any hope of changing the programme. I joined the Gender Society and the Beaumont Society, but never had the nerve to chat on this site (still haven't), nor attend any meet-ups at first. What did I discover? There were other people just like me, and rather a lot of them! The information available here is 'second to none', and it greatly enabled the start of my long journey. The other Society 'held and still holds' a bi-annual meet-up and theme-dressed dinner in Harrogate. This was to be my first ever appearance in public as me. I have lived alone for twenty-six years: always Hannah behind the closed doors of my homes and my male self outdoors and in the work-place. I arrived on the Thursday lunch-time: sat in the car for an hour and a half listening to the only opera written in Italian by Romeau. At its finale I had made my decision to write off the fees for the four days, return home and resume my previous life. I did not notice the four ladies sat having afternoon tea near reception: Kay, the President, Irene her wife and co-ordinator of the weekend, Becky and one of the co-ordinators of the Gender Society. My sole reason for entering the hotel in drab was to pursue an increasingly urgent comfort visit to the gents, and then home. As I returned and stepped down from reception, Irene got up, blocked my exit and escape route and said "you're not thinking of going home are you?". I replied yes .  "No you're not, you have friends here". The rest is history. I had no idea what this 'Passage of Rights' would entail and enable: how finding myself would give me real happiness and disperse the depression of my Dysphoria for ever.  It is, however, a double-edged sword.  Meeting an influential member of this group on the occasion of my first appearance as Hannah, enabled a great deal: she persuaded me to dress en-femme on the Saturday and to accompany her and Becky (Regional Representative) on a walk round Harrogate, with coffee and cakes in Marks and Spencers. Six months later she organised a meet-up in Torquay, where I met the 'love of my life'; but that is another and strictly private story. One of my few ambitions is to repeat the Cleveland Way weeks walk in a skirt and not Rohan outdoor trousers: then to enter new territory in a skirt and do the 'Pennine Way'. Part Two: includes my personal pathway of the last five years, treatment options, beurocratic hurdles and advice as to the best safest and most direct way to achieve GRS and a GRC. Don't, forbid, do what I did and simply forget to pack a head lamp, spare batteries, map and compass, girls..!!     
  • I set out on this my 'Great Journey' with a full rucksack of suitable female clothing for all eventualities, weathers and occasions, suitable foot-wear (not 5" Jimmy Choos), toiletries and a somewhat naive but strong sense of purpose and direction. It started with a week's solo walk across the  North Country, the "Cleveland Way": no big deal for a Swiss Registered High Mountain Guide, I thought. How utterly wrong I was! I frankly have no real idea what triggered my need to pursue the lifelong question of who exactly I was. I can only think that life is controlled in the same way as the 'biscuit' one pushed into old-fashioned washing machines: once inserted it undertoook its progress without any hope of changing the programme. I joined the Gender Society and the Beaumont Society, but never had the nerve to chat on this site (still haven't), nor attend any meet-ups at first. What did I discover? There were other people just like me, and rather a lot of them! The information available here is 'second to none', and it greatly enabled the start of my long journey. The other Society 'held and still holds' a bi-annual meet-up and theme-dressed dinner in Harrogate. This was to be my first ever appearance in public as me. I have lived alone for twenty-six years: always Hannah behind the closed doors of my homes and my male self outdoors and in the work-place. I arrived on the Thursday lunch-time: sat in the car for an hour and a half listening to the only opera written in Italian by Romeau. At its finale I had made my decision to write off the fees for the four days, return home and resume my previous life. I did not notice the four ladies sat having afternoon tea near reception: Kay, the President, Irene her wife and co-ordinator of the weekend, Becky and one of the co-ordinators of the Gender Society. My sole reason for entering the hotel in drab was to pursue an increasingly urgent comfort visit to the gents, and then home. As I returned and stepped down from reception, Irene got up, blocked my exit and escape route and said "you're not thinking of going home are you?". I replied yes .  "No you're not, you have friends here". The rest is history. I had no idea what this 'Passage of Rights' would entail and enable: how finding myself would give me real happiness and disperse the depression of my Dysphoria for ever.  It is, however, a double-edged sword.  Meeting an influential member of this group on the occasion of my first appearance as Hannah, enabled a great deal: she persuaded me to dress en-femme on the Saturday and to accompany her and Becky (Regional Representative) on a walk round Harrogate, with coffee and cakes in Marks and Spencers. Six months later she organised a meet-up in Torquay, where I met the 'love of my life'; but that is another and strictly private story. One of my few ambitions is to repeat the Cleveland Way weeks walk in a skirt and not Rohan outdoor trousers: then to enter new territory in a skirt and do the 'Pennine Way'. Part Two: includes my personal pathway of the last five years, treatment options, beurocratic hurdles and advice as to the best safest and most direct way to achieve GRS and a GRC. Don't, forbid, do what I did and simply forget to pack a head lamp, spare batteries, map and compass, girls..!!     
    Dec 06, 2017 444
  • 11 Nov 2017
    Hello It's been a long, long time since I contributed something here. I'm not talking years but I'm talking months and for a site that requires contributions from the community that's too long. So with apologies to Lucy, Crissie, Katie for the lack of 'giving'..I hope you are all OK - I mean that's the most important thing, right? The day-to-day getting by and feeling fine. I've seen this year's John Lewis Christmas ad, and lets be honest, it's not so good is it? But it won't stop Father Christmas now will it? I have received a barrage of pre-Christmas email from retailers who are desperate to convince me that sparkling is essential, whether eyebrows, tops, skirts of frankly my pussy if it would just be there. Three days into January it will all be about abstinence, purity and cleanliness - I mean, come on, that's not a great deal of value from flickering shimmeriness is it!? I haven't dressed-up for a while and I feel the pressure building. Not in my crotch but in the brain. For readers in the closet, do you also have tell-tale signs when the Dysphoria is beginning to peak, advance warnings and yearnings to dash into Zara at lunchtime. My brain still reacts with the the belief that if I succumb to masculine desire lines all will be OK. So I have a new bike (it's actually very nice and could be easily described as unisex) but I evidently didn't purchase a women's geometry from the women's department. It's black, technical and taut. It's lovely thing and I'm reading the paraphernalia that it encourages, magazines and web-based retailer for all things athletic, but whilst I do I yearn for layers of loose Cashmere, a facial and a new pair of boots. I spotted a woman on the tube on Wednesday with a hair-cut I would dye for. A cropped page-boy, short but quickly translating from weight and length to a light and feathery neckline. More length above the ears teased forward into a pre-emptive eccentric pair of bangs, pointed around the ears with a swept forehead, and bottle-blonde.. I have an appointment at my local salon tomorrow - of if I could only dare to ask for that cut, an absolutely certain way of directing my colleagues attention towards me at forthcoming Christmas parties, especially if I but some of that sparkly, stuff I mentioned earlier. It's quite on Gender Society and I'm unable to access on my iPhone. I hope that the site approaches the New Year with confidence and that all who visit here appreciate what it can provide, which is an avenue for whitening lost souls to share and gently provoke. Catch up soon, keep sparkling and don't be let down by the Monsters under the bed. Rachel x
    387 Posted by Rachel de Blanc
  • Hello It's been a long, long time since I contributed something here. I'm not talking years but I'm talking months and for a site that requires contributions from the community that's too long. So with apologies to Lucy, Crissie, Katie for the lack of 'giving'..I hope you are all OK - I mean that's the most important thing, right? The day-to-day getting by and feeling fine. I've seen this year's John Lewis Christmas ad, and lets be honest, it's not so good is it? But it won't stop Father Christmas now will it? I have received a barrage of pre-Christmas email from retailers who are desperate to convince me that sparkling is essential, whether eyebrows, tops, skirts of frankly my pussy if it would just be there. Three days into January it will all be about abstinence, purity and cleanliness - I mean, come on, that's not a great deal of value from flickering shimmeriness is it!? I haven't dressed-up for a while and I feel the pressure building. Not in my crotch but in the brain. For readers in the closet, do you also have tell-tale signs when the Dysphoria is beginning to peak, advance warnings and yearnings to dash into Zara at lunchtime. My brain still reacts with the the belief that if I succumb to masculine desire lines all will be OK. So I have a new bike (it's actually very nice and could be easily described as unisex) but I evidently didn't purchase a women's geometry from the women's department. It's black, technical and taut. It's lovely thing and I'm reading the paraphernalia that it encourages, magazines and web-based retailer for all things athletic, but whilst I do I yearn for layers of loose Cashmere, a facial and a new pair of boots. I spotted a woman on the tube on Wednesday with a hair-cut I would dye for. A cropped page-boy, short but quickly translating from weight and length to a light and feathery neckline. More length above the ears teased forward into a pre-emptive eccentric pair of bangs, pointed around the ears with a swept forehead, and bottle-blonde.. I have an appointment at my local salon tomorrow - of if I could only dare to ask for that cut, an absolutely certain way of directing my colleagues attention towards me at forthcoming Christmas parties, especially if I but some of that sparkly, stuff I mentioned earlier. It's quite on Gender Society and I'm unable to access on my iPhone. I hope that the site approaches the New Year with confidence and that all who visit here appreciate what it can provide, which is an avenue for whitening lost souls to share and gently provoke. Catch up soon, keep sparkling and don't be let down by the Monsters under the bed. Rachel x
    Nov 11, 2017 387
  • 10 Nov 2017
    Hello Ladies - Here are updates on my super world, the path of Briana! : ) As noted in the prior blog I have come out to a series of doctors ( 2 endocrinologists, my therapist, and even the whole of the medical system I am part of through my insurance ). When I go online to look up my file, notes, et al - I am who I am - Briana!! Everyone has been quite friendly, supportive, and see me as me. I reflect on much earlier times long before coming out to myself and those struggles - how when at a given store I would secretly wish someone behind me could say "Miss --" or something in that direction. These were fleeting and few but were nuggets of gold in my past and deeply wishes for ( bear in mind I had a great deal of emotional conflict over such things before addressing myself on these things however ). Nevertheless yesterday I had a follow up meeting with my endocrinologist to go over the newest results of my blood work after now being on hormone therapy ( hooray!! ) for a little over a month. Already the testosterone level is lower than a standard male and the estrogen level has more than doubled! Super news in my book - my breasts thank me daily ( albeit small and developing lol )! She decided to double the estrogen level and all things look good. That news is great in itself, but the day was beyond my wishes though. I went in a red and black plaid skirt, black hose, a nice red top, with cute short heel black shoes. I feel confident, happy, and massively content ( since starting hormones, this sense of peace, tranquility, and balance has been incredible ). As I walked in I was looked at as if I were any other woman walking into the place ( no strange glares or people turning away ). I approached the elevator and there was a grandfather with his toddler grandson just ahead of me. The lad pressed the button and we boarded the lift. In a moment, the grandfather turns to his grandson and notes, 'Show the lady how you can pick our floor, 2" - The lad does so and I note 'Good job'. The doors open on our floor and he places his hand on his grandson's shoulder as I stand there still reflecting on the prior moments and he nods and signals me to go ahead and step out - I say 'thanks'.  In line a person calls out to a lady that it is her turn in saying 'Miss' my head instantly turned. The receptionist, the nurses, the doctor were all cordial, friendly - calling me by name, Briana, and they even updated my file with my new picture ( note I am also in make up as well! ).  Seated in the waiting room a nurse comes out to call the next patient looking for a Mr - she looks past me not even considering me ( thankfully ) while another nearby woman looks about and points out a man over my shoulder further back and asks him if he was the one being called.  Another woman enters the waiting area coming from the adjacent women's lavatory and turns to me and asks if I was wearing a jacket today - I note, no, only my sweater that I have on - she notes that there is one left in the bathroom that's why she was asking me! Along with the discussion of hormones and the upgrade with the doctor I gave her as I have given the list of noted doctor's my first edition copy of my book - talking about my creative drive, interests in writing, the fun experiments in the book using ordinary materials and the like. Each of them allowed me to sign it to them personally and of course, as myself, Briana!  Today was a day I will remember always - compared to the 'Miss' from long ago, this was a day of a pile of gold bars and not just a nugget. I was me, myself and I, Briana - I was that woman in the doctor's office and was perfectly alive, happy, and well in all ranges - physically, mentally, and emotionally.  More to follow in time with further months on hormones and more times out and about as me! All the best in your journeys. Thanks for taking time to read. Take Care Hugs, Briana : ) Cosmic Girl out exploring herself and the Cosmos!  
    326 Posted by Briana Purcell
  • Hello Ladies - Here are updates on my super world, the path of Briana! : ) As noted in the prior blog I have come out to a series of doctors ( 2 endocrinologists, my therapist, and even the whole of the medical system I am part of through my insurance ). When I go online to look up my file, notes, et al - I am who I am - Briana!! Everyone has been quite friendly, supportive, and see me as me. I reflect on much earlier times long before coming out to myself and those struggles - how when at a given store I would secretly wish someone behind me could say "Miss --" or something in that direction. These were fleeting and few but were nuggets of gold in my past and deeply wishes for ( bear in mind I had a great deal of emotional conflict over such things before addressing myself on these things however ). Nevertheless yesterday I had a follow up meeting with my endocrinologist to go over the newest results of my blood work after now being on hormone therapy ( hooray!! ) for a little over a month. Already the testosterone level is lower than a standard male and the estrogen level has more than doubled! Super news in my book - my breasts thank me daily ( albeit small and developing lol )! She decided to double the estrogen level and all things look good. That news is great in itself, but the day was beyond my wishes though. I went in a red and black plaid skirt, black hose, a nice red top, with cute short heel black shoes. I feel confident, happy, and massively content ( since starting hormones, this sense of peace, tranquility, and balance has been incredible ). As I walked in I was looked at as if I were any other woman walking into the place ( no strange glares or people turning away ). I approached the elevator and there was a grandfather with his toddler grandson just ahead of me. The lad pressed the button and we boarded the lift. In a moment, the grandfather turns to his grandson and notes, 'Show the lady how you can pick our floor, 2" - The lad does so and I note 'Good job'. The doors open on our floor and he places his hand on his grandson's shoulder as I stand there still reflecting on the prior moments and he nods and signals me to go ahead and step out - I say 'thanks'.  In line a person calls out to a lady that it is her turn in saying 'Miss' my head instantly turned. The receptionist, the nurses, the doctor were all cordial, friendly - calling me by name, Briana, and they even updated my file with my new picture ( note I am also in make up as well! ).  Seated in the waiting room a nurse comes out to call the next patient looking for a Mr - she looks past me not even considering me ( thankfully ) while another nearby woman looks about and points out a man over my shoulder further back and asks him if he was the one being called.  Another woman enters the waiting area coming from the adjacent women's lavatory and turns to me and asks if I was wearing a jacket today - I note, no, only my sweater that I have on - she notes that there is one left in the bathroom that's why she was asking me! Along with the discussion of hormones and the upgrade with the doctor I gave her as I have given the list of noted doctor's my first edition copy of my book - talking about my creative drive, interests in writing, the fun experiments in the book using ordinary materials and the like. Each of them allowed me to sign it to them personally and of course, as myself, Briana!  Today was a day I will remember always - compared to the 'Miss' from long ago, this was a day of a pile of gold bars and not just a nugget. I was me, myself and I, Briana - I was that woman in the doctor's office and was perfectly alive, happy, and well in all ranges - physically, mentally, and emotionally.  More to follow in time with further months on hormones and more times out and about as me! All the best in your journeys. Thanks for taking time to read. Take Care Hugs, Briana : ) Cosmic Girl out exploring herself and the Cosmos!  
    Nov 10, 2017 326
  • 29 Sep 2017
    Hello Ladies - Important news from the wonderful world of Briana! I first came out to my doctor on July 31 and she was wonderful - passing along paperwork to connect to the right people in the system and even had recommendations for various people to talk to. I filled it out and had a week or so of emails back and forth since I checked off a number of boxes I look forward to in my future ( hormones, surgery, electrolysis, et al ) and was given all sorts of names, links, and the like. My first goal, of course, is the 'girl skittles' as the other Bri here calls them, namely hormones - so I had to meet with the therapist to be evaluated. It was only two meetings and we had lengthy talks - normally I do not say a lot but wow I opened up and told a whole range of tales of my life and feelings about being a girl since age 5! It did me wonders and he is a wonderful soul to talk to. These meetings were in late August and early September. He even thought I was already on hormones due to the way I look ( which I have been doing a few things in the last couple of years, as I told him ) but I loved the compliment. He told me of his own two spirit personality, his years of work, writings, and other really cool information.  Now to find the endocrinologist for the hormones and with luck not only were there several but the one who is strongly connected to my therapist, heavily recommended was available on Sept 28 where I arrived and gave blood and went home and waited for the call from the pharmacy. It took a few hours but those minutes felt like days and my mind went in twenty directions. With the call I raced out the door, held back from screaming and crying the whole way there and back and worked hard to keep my often lead foot off the accelerator - never in my life have I raced for something so bad as this. Got home and began treatment immediately.  As a side note I set up that appointment on Sept 14 - Let me say this - never in my lifetime has two weeks ever taken so long. As time went along I counted down days and even resulted to hours in the last 3 days.  Other notes : All the doctors and the therapist are super people and it opened my mind, heart, and being up immensely. On the electronic system online I am who I am - BRIANA and they call me that everywhere - nurses, doctors, receptionists, et al. In all three meetings I went totally as myself - gorgeous skirt, cute top and shoes, and a well done make up job on my fact I might add - this girl is cute! One elderly woman even made it a point to sit by me as we both waited in the clinic area to have blood drawn and complimented me on my skirt aloud to all around us! En route to all meetings I struck up my CD player which has Enya in it and I would play about 5-7 tunes depending on the length of the journey. I felt excited, elated, a bit anxious, happy, and forward thinking already, but the music amplified my spirit enormously.  Why the amount of time to reach here? More reasons than I can discuss in detail, but there were times of no insurance, insurance that had little to no coverage, an initial doctor under the other insurance who was very rude and not communicative at all, my determination to find a path with no help ( not recommended to anyone ) and of course, my own fears in approaching this new insurance which I have had for a couple of years.  No regrets though. I always seem to be at that point in my life when it is right to do this or that thing.  One of the critical keys is this : I am a person who lives by massive values, rules, standards and the like and always have - don't get me wrong do I color outside the lines at times ( literally basically ) sure enough - but I uphold standards and use these in my personal battles with myself since childhood where I have always known I am a girl since age 5 - but this made no sense logically especially at those times nearly a half century ago. Nevertheless as I explained to the therapist the only time I did things one is not expected or should do ( such as dressing and taking hormones et al ) I did so without hesitation. He first told me I did not do anything wrong and asked, how did this make you feel? Really good, I replied. -- how this relates to being here with the doctors and the like, I need to be on the path to me and need good help otherwise I might keep pushing boundaries ( which I do not recommend and one should be with a doctor and monitored ). Akin to this line of thought is how I discussed me to the therapist. I noted that all of us define ourselves by two central questions : Who Am I? and What do I do here? in our lives. I always knew I am a girl, but there seem to be no way to say, express or be me, but I could override the who am I part with what do I do here by always defining myself by what I do : collect things, bike ride, write, learn and teach science and math. In each case though not noted there were no gendered descriptors in these, though I always knew what they were. This has been the quest since coming out to myself, filling in the whole of the picture with who am I, the girl who loves and does as she does in her life. Overall I feel liberated and looking forward to many new things.  Other good things : Even in the past two months I have been out on several occasions such as my anniversary date of coming out to myself ( Sept 21, 2112 ) when I finally spoke and said 'I'm okay' - a story shared with each of the aforementioned doctors. I went to a massive mall and went window shopping, having some coffee and taking in the scenery as well as going to a grocery store looking good in all places and cases.  On the hormones, as I should always have been ( unlike the time I took both my mom's and years later a friend of mine - but those are other tales to tell another time ) and feeling at peace, happy, content, even more optimistic than usual for me, and many more things to come - I will amend this piece as needed in time and put those reflections in here as well.  Ever the cosmic girl, hugs, Briana : )  
    339 Posted by Briana Purcell
  • Hello Ladies - Important news from the wonderful world of Briana! I first came out to my doctor on July 31 and she was wonderful - passing along paperwork to connect to the right people in the system and even had recommendations for various people to talk to. I filled it out and had a week or so of emails back and forth since I checked off a number of boxes I look forward to in my future ( hormones, surgery, electrolysis, et al ) and was given all sorts of names, links, and the like. My first goal, of course, is the 'girl skittles' as the other Bri here calls them, namely hormones - so I had to meet with the therapist to be evaluated. It was only two meetings and we had lengthy talks - normally I do not say a lot but wow I opened up and told a whole range of tales of my life and feelings about being a girl since age 5! It did me wonders and he is a wonderful soul to talk to. These meetings were in late August and early September. He even thought I was already on hormones due to the way I look ( which I have been doing a few things in the last couple of years, as I told him ) but I loved the compliment. He told me of his own two spirit personality, his years of work, writings, and other really cool information.  Now to find the endocrinologist for the hormones and with luck not only were there several but the one who is strongly connected to my therapist, heavily recommended was available on Sept 28 where I arrived and gave blood and went home and waited for the call from the pharmacy. It took a few hours but those minutes felt like days and my mind went in twenty directions. With the call I raced out the door, held back from screaming and crying the whole way there and back and worked hard to keep my often lead foot off the accelerator - never in my life have I raced for something so bad as this. Got home and began treatment immediately.  As a side note I set up that appointment on Sept 14 - Let me say this - never in my lifetime has two weeks ever taken so long. As time went along I counted down days and even resulted to hours in the last 3 days.  Other notes : All the doctors and the therapist are super people and it opened my mind, heart, and being up immensely. On the electronic system online I am who I am - BRIANA and they call me that everywhere - nurses, doctors, receptionists, et al. In all three meetings I went totally as myself - gorgeous skirt, cute top and shoes, and a well done make up job on my fact I might add - this girl is cute! One elderly woman even made it a point to sit by me as we both waited in the clinic area to have blood drawn and complimented me on my skirt aloud to all around us! En route to all meetings I struck up my CD player which has Enya in it and I would play about 5-7 tunes depending on the length of the journey. I felt excited, elated, a bit anxious, happy, and forward thinking already, but the music amplified my spirit enormously.  Why the amount of time to reach here? More reasons than I can discuss in detail, but there were times of no insurance, insurance that had little to no coverage, an initial doctor under the other insurance who was very rude and not communicative at all, my determination to find a path with no help ( not recommended to anyone ) and of course, my own fears in approaching this new insurance which I have had for a couple of years.  No regrets though. I always seem to be at that point in my life when it is right to do this or that thing.  One of the critical keys is this : I am a person who lives by massive values, rules, standards and the like and always have - don't get me wrong do I color outside the lines at times ( literally basically ) sure enough - but I uphold standards and use these in my personal battles with myself since childhood where I have always known I am a girl since age 5 - but this made no sense logically especially at those times nearly a half century ago. Nevertheless as I explained to the therapist the only time I did things one is not expected or should do ( such as dressing and taking hormones et al ) I did so without hesitation. He first told me I did not do anything wrong and asked, how did this make you feel? Really good, I replied. -- how this relates to being here with the doctors and the like, I need to be on the path to me and need good help otherwise I might keep pushing boundaries ( which I do not recommend and one should be with a doctor and monitored ). Akin to this line of thought is how I discussed me to the therapist. I noted that all of us define ourselves by two central questions : Who Am I? and What do I do here? in our lives. I always knew I am a girl, but there seem to be no way to say, express or be me, but I could override the who am I part with what do I do here by always defining myself by what I do : collect things, bike ride, write, learn and teach science and math. In each case though not noted there were no gendered descriptors in these, though I always knew what they were. This has been the quest since coming out to myself, filling in the whole of the picture with who am I, the girl who loves and does as she does in her life. Overall I feel liberated and looking forward to many new things.  Other good things : Even in the past two months I have been out on several occasions such as my anniversary date of coming out to myself ( Sept 21, 2112 ) when I finally spoke and said 'I'm okay' - a story shared with each of the aforementioned doctors. I went to a massive mall and went window shopping, having some coffee and taking in the scenery as well as going to a grocery store looking good in all places and cases.  On the hormones, as I should always have been ( unlike the time I took both my mom's and years later a friend of mine - but those are other tales to tell another time ) and feeling at peace, happy, content, even more optimistic than usual for me, and many more things to come - I will amend this piece as needed in time and put those reflections in here as well.  Ever the cosmic girl, hugs, Briana : )  
    Sep 29, 2017 339
  • 17 Sep 2017
    UK news-print (Daily Fail etc.) and the BBC are currently full of far less than well-intentioned advice from self-appointed and deluded 'nuts' (frequently American and less so, Australian) who promote 'horse-medicine cures' for Gender Dysphoria whilst in 'the childhood phase'. Christian couples are busy withdrawing their children from schools which allow boys to wear dresses; but, strangely, not those who allow girls to wear trousers, shirts and ties. They should withdraw their daughters immediately from Brownies and Girl-guides  Associations now that trans-boys are authorised to join. The buzz word over here this last week has been 'tolerate', whatever that implies and or conjures up. The sudden appearance of this uninvited, disparate and unauthorised placatory movement disturbs me somewhat. It has overtones of the Salvation Army, who despise us, praying for our eternal damnation and not our redemption - God bless them (in my forgiving prayers). We have nothing whatsoever to tolerate in our gender identity; and, are merely normal and usually honest, hard working and hopefully healthy citizens who simply wish to just get on with our lives as best we can, and; without 'lip-service' misplaced and mis-directed 'tolerance', which in my mind's eye smacks of equally misguided false kindness. When I was a small boy and believed in Father Christmas (I still do in a way), on each birthday I was asked to make a wish; and, it was always "Please God, when I wake up tomorrow make me a girl". I dreamed endlessly of wearing dresses to equate with my gender identity. Now that I hug myself occasionally, as I clutch my female passport and female driving licence, I am inevitably wearing trousers or leggings and trainers, just like the rest of the female population: dresses are merely for rather special occasions. Funny old world!  With that, rant over, I "rest my case Milord".
  • UK news-print (Daily Fail etc.) and the BBC are currently full of far less than well-intentioned advice from self-appointed and deluded 'nuts' (frequently American and less so, Australian) who promote 'horse-medicine cures' for Gender Dysphoria whilst in 'the childhood phase'. Christian couples are busy withdrawing their children from schools which allow boys to wear dresses; but, strangely, not those who allow girls to wear trousers, shirts and ties. They should withdraw their daughters immediately from Brownies and Girl-guides  Associations now that trans-boys are authorised to join. The buzz word over here this last week has been 'tolerate', whatever that implies and or conjures up. The sudden appearance of this uninvited, disparate and unauthorised placatory movement disturbs me somewhat. It has overtones of the Salvation Army, who despise us, praying for our eternal damnation and not our redemption - God bless them (in my forgiving prayers). We have nothing whatsoever to tolerate in our gender identity; and, are merely normal and usually honest, hard working and hopefully healthy citizens who simply wish to just get on with our lives as best we can, and; without 'lip-service' misplaced and mis-directed 'tolerance', which in my mind's eye smacks of equally misguided false kindness. When I was a small boy and believed in Father Christmas (I still do in a way), on each birthday I was asked to make a wish; and, it was always "Please God, when I wake up tomorrow make me a girl". I dreamed endlessly of wearing dresses to equate with my gender identity. Now that I hug myself occasionally, as I clutch my female passport and female driving licence, I am inevitably wearing trousers or leggings and trainers, just like the rest of the female population: dresses are merely for rather special occasions. Funny old world!  With that, rant over, I "rest my case Milord".
    Sep 17, 2017 398
  • 17 Aug 2017
    NB: Short Blog I have a favourite sound. The lightweight, hollow click clack of polished brittle plastic, disorderly and increasingly dusty and fingerprint-marked. Held in soft fabrics, the contents often are chaotic and lack space, so when fingers scuttle through the clatter resonates and sound spalls out. The timpani of temptation has a shimmery aroma and when the zip or clasp is opened this bursts out and tingles the nostrils. The tempting sound encourages delving and invites you in. The sound of a make-up bag of course, undeniably feminine and provocative. Demanding, emphatic, delicate, temporary. One of my favourite sounds. What might yours be? Rachel 
    381 Posted by Rachel de Blanc
  • NB: Short Blog I have a favourite sound. The lightweight, hollow click clack of polished brittle plastic, disorderly and increasingly dusty and fingerprint-marked. Held in soft fabrics, the contents often are chaotic and lack space, so when fingers scuttle through the clatter resonates and sound spalls out. The timpani of temptation has a shimmery aroma and when the zip or clasp is opened this bursts out and tingles the nostrils. The tempting sound encourages delving and invites you in. The sound of a make-up bag of course, undeniably feminine and provocative. Demanding, emphatic, delicate, temporary. One of my favourite sounds. What might yours be? Rachel 
    Aug 17, 2017 381
  • 15 Aug 2017
    Hi I owe gratitude to Morrissey the author of the song 'Oscillate Wildly' - it's only polite to acknowledge those from whom you steal. I would say that I am now a constant woman. This perhaps hasn't always been the case and is worthy of a separate conversation, but that is what I am. The need to physically engage with my gender to prove and exhibit it isn't and cannot be constant though, and so I oscillate wildly. When I can secure those moments I focus upon their arrival and use the time available intensively, almost to the exclusion of everything else. When the moment passes I mournfully pack things away and skulk back into ordinary life and depression's shadow follows me occasionally. I think my orbit is becoming more pronounced, the swings more exaggerated. This is also true in my apparent gender. I find myself pursuing somewhat random masculine traits. Not binge drinking and a game of darts for goodness sake, but the pursuit of physical activity, one off purchases, lad's stuff. But the interest in the masculine bias diminishes very rapidly, these are not purchases that are profound and necessary, they are typically superficial and vapid. When I oscillate and orbit back into my own woman's world I find sanctity, objectiveness calmness and ease. The need here is becoming more exaggerated too. Gently plucked eyebrows, cautious body shaving, longer hair all knowingly coutoured - this is becoming tricker, endures longer. Counselling has commenced with the possibility of Hormones on the horizon, this circle is getting larger and the pull is getting stronger. I oscillate wildly but the person on the ride is a woman and whilst she may not speak for part of the orbit, she ain't going to go quietly. Rachel x      
    342 Posted by Rachel de Blanc
  • Hi I owe gratitude to Morrissey the author of the song 'Oscillate Wildly' - it's only polite to acknowledge those from whom you steal. I would say that I am now a constant woman. This perhaps hasn't always been the case and is worthy of a separate conversation, but that is what I am. The need to physically engage with my gender to prove and exhibit it isn't and cannot be constant though, and so I oscillate wildly. When I can secure those moments I focus upon their arrival and use the time available intensively, almost to the exclusion of everything else. When the moment passes I mournfully pack things away and skulk back into ordinary life and depression's shadow follows me occasionally. I think my orbit is becoming more pronounced, the swings more exaggerated. This is also true in my apparent gender. I find myself pursuing somewhat random masculine traits. Not binge drinking and a game of darts for goodness sake, but the pursuit of physical activity, one off purchases, lad's stuff. But the interest in the masculine bias diminishes very rapidly, these are not purchases that are profound and necessary, they are typically superficial and vapid. When I oscillate and orbit back into my own woman's world I find sanctity, objectiveness calmness and ease. The need here is becoming more exaggerated too. Gently plucked eyebrows, cautious body shaving, longer hair all knowingly coutoured - this is becoming tricker, endures longer. Counselling has commenced with the possibility of Hormones on the horizon, this circle is getting larger and the pull is getting stronger. I oscillate wildly but the person on the ride is a woman and whilst she may not speak for part of the orbit, she ain't going to go quietly. Rachel x      
    Aug 15, 2017 342
  • 15 Aug 2017
    Help. I've tripped into my Black Hole and the ladder doesn’t reach out. I need some release and a direction. My male and female sides are fighting, but my hard wiring has some tricky hair triggers built into it, and one has just tripped: it’s the fear of annihilation - hardwired into me by my dear mother through her special treatment all those years ago. Now, my partner does not like any of my feminine side, and always pushes back when I push forward: tights, doing my nails, shaving my body hair, legs, etc. Now I have painfully won a couple of those battles over the years and there is a grudging acceptance of the legs, but she just spotted I was wearing eyeliner out today, with earrings, and she has been shouting at me for an hour. That annihilation trip wire button really makes me feel uncomfortable – like looking down the barrel of a gun. I know now the rational thing to do is to lash out and strike away the gun, but I have suppressed my feeling so much over the years that I cannot express anger, I just get tense inside, and anyway, I want to avoid escalation to high emotions from her.   Outwardly, I have lived a life of respectable conformity with all mod-cons – I have been fortunate to have had time to express my alternate self. Though nowhere near as often as I would have liked.  I have had great help from my psy to manage the balances, and I have researched loads to help me understand myself. After many years I see more clearly, but what I see does not make me happy – it is a mess; I can see decisions I made to conform to society’s expectations, and hide, and how I continued them, always thinking I could keep the female side in check, but sometimes it feels like that something is going to explode: is it an urge, or something powerful? My dilemma is where to go from here. My psy thinks my partner knows more than she wants to admit, and won’t accept much out of fear of a domino effect, and facing the inner me, and out of fear of the house of cards falling. If only we could downgrade to “just friends”, and I can be me. I lack the courage for drastic moves, as I cannot stand confrontation. Now I have dug a hole so deep my ladder won't reach to get me out. Should I confess, and blow the house down, and have her stab me, or retreat until a better time is found; and how can I nudge towards acceptance, gently push those limits. I want to wear my tights, polish my nails, wear dresses, and do my makeup. I feel so frustrated. Help. Anyone out there who can give some good advice? Love Nathalia
    387 Posted by Nathalia van Lydia
  • Help. I've tripped into my Black Hole and the ladder doesn’t reach out. I need some release and a direction. My male and female sides are fighting, but my hard wiring has some tricky hair triggers built into it, and one has just tripped: it’s the fear of annihilation - hardwired into me by my dear mother through her special treatment all those years ago. Now, my partner does not like any of my feminine side, and always pushes back when I push forward: tights, doing my nails, shaving my body hair, legs, etc. Now I have painfully won a couple of those battles over the years and there is a grudging acceptance of the legs, but she just spotted I was wearing eyeliner out today, with earrings, and she has been shouting at me for an hour. That annihilation trip wire button really makes me feel uncomfortable – like looking down the barrel of a gun. I know now the rational thing to do is to lash out and strike away the gun, but I have suppressed my feeling so much over the years that I cannot express anger, I just get tense inside, and anyway, I want to avoid escalation to high emotions from her.   Outwardly, I have lived a life of respectable conformity with all mod-cons – I have been fortunate to have had time to express my alternate self. Though nowhere near as often as I would have liked.  I have had great help from my psy to manage the balances, and I have researched loads to help me understand myself. After many years I see more clearly, but what I see does not make me happy – it is a mess; I can see decisions I made to conform to society’s expectations, and hide, and how I continued them, always thinking I could keep the female side in check, but sometimes it feels like that something is going to explode: is it an urge, or something powerful? My dilemma is where to go from here. My psy thinks my partner knows more than she wants to admit, and won’t accept much out of fear of a domino effect, and facing the inner me, and out of fear of the house of cards falling. If only we could downgrade to “just friends”, and I can be me. I lack the courage for drastic moves, as I cannot stand confrontation. Now I have dug a hole so deep my ladder won't reach to get me out. Should I confess, and blow the house down, and have her stab me, or retreat until a better time is found; and how can I nudge towards acceptance, gently push those limits. I want to wear my tights, polish my nails, wear dresses, and do my makeup. I feel so frustrated. Help. Anyone out there who can give some good advice? Love Nathalia
    Aug 15, 2017 387