Lots of Knocks

While I have done some really enjoyable things over the past month (photography at the Fashion City York catwalk show, my birthday party, Legoland with my son, more photoshoots, the Festival of Vintage) I seem to have had a few knocks as well which really have left me feeling a bit down.

I was prompted to write this post now after my son didn't want to speak to me on the phone. I hardly get to talk to him as it is and when I can call is so limited given everything he does and the times when he's 'busy'. I think what gets to me is that him not talking is so 'acceptable'. Not wanting to talk to me is 'understandable' and that is something I have to accept. Of course it's my fault after all.

It's much easier to justify certain behaviour when you can allocate blame: if I'm in the wrong that makes me bad and others actions are 'good' by default. This kind of reasoning is typified by the premise that I have 'done' something - I have made a concious decision to be 'bad' and therefore all consequences are to be expected and accepted.

None of this take into account my feelings and how upset I am. Nor does it really do anything to deal with the, quite complicated, reality of what has happened. There are only so many times I can apologise for the way I am, this really isn't my 'fault', it's something I ultimately had no control over.

My partner and I split last week as well, amicably and by mutual agreement but that kind of thing still upsets and hurts. Last week just seems to have been a horrible week with me feeling down about the split and lots of other things that are bothering me.

I guess everyone has ups and downs and there are lots of things I am very grateful for I could just do without my confidence and emotions being knocked about so much at the moment.

Goodbye Alice in Wonderland

This is the title of a song by Jewel which I really love and feel the lyrics of which are rather apt at the moment. I've always been pretty naive and trusting and I guess always seen only the good in people and never considered that all of us have a dark side as well. It's a simplistic and childish view and I certainly needed to do some growing up (still do).

But now I do feel like I'm jumped forward in the cynicism a bit, I really have been upset and angry about some things and not just brushed them off as I use to (and sometimes cry about them quietly later). It's like the glasses are clear and there is less of a rose-coloured tint to them.

I'm not sad though, and I still do firmly believe that the glass if half-full and it's pretty cool I've got a glass in the first place! Like the song says, I'm not pretending any more though, I'm maybe still dreaming though and approaching things philosophically which I still think is a good way to be :)

[ And I still keep smiling and littering my writing with copious :) 's as well :) ]

Not Funny Anymore

I was going to write about the joys of hayfever and how it seems to be, so far at least, quite bad for me this year and that it's rather inconvenient when a) cycling, b) wearing make-up and c) attempting not to have ugly blood-shot eyes with dark bags under them. That would certainly count as "Not Funny".

But what just struck me was making (or trying to make) a witty reply to something a friend posted on FaceBook. I use to be full of one-liners and smart comments. In reality they probably weren't that funny, smart, or welcome, but at least it meant that I felt I was with it in some way and at least came across as bright and chirpy (probably also not entirely welcome in alot of cases).

So it occurred to me that I just don't have that anymore. I think part of it is me growing up somewhat; I was always pretty immature and, while I'm not claiming to be completely cured in this respect, I feel that I now have a fair amount of 'serious' experience which has an affect on who I am and how I behave. I use to write about the trials and tribulations of my life but, looking back, I think I did that in a fairly detached way. Now I feel and experience the reality of my situation and life almost constantly.

I'm not depressed or anything, and I certainly have lots of things to be happy about (for example seeing my son at the weekend, and meeting up with friends, and photography ... the list goes on), but I'm just a tad more serious, cynical, and real about life than I was before. Less naive maybe. But still hopeful I think.

More Regret

I'm sat at home trying to get over a pretty nasty cold at the moment; it's one of those that gets into your muscles and just makes you feel weak and lethargic as well as adding the cough, ear-ache, and sore throat into the bargain. It started on Friday, held off a little on Saturday but was pretty much dragging me down on Sunday.

So, I didn't, and don't feel well. The letter concerning the divorce that was waiting for me on Saturday night when I got back from seeing my son was therefore not particularly welcome. I was quite upset when I got it, maybe a little angry, certainly a little confused as to what it really meant.

By Sunday morning I felt terrible and thinking about the letter was really getting to me along with all the other recent pressure and stress ... and I snapped. I just couldn't take it any more, I dissolved into floods of tears. I think I only stopped because I was just so tired. I phoned up to say whether I was going over to see my son and, when asked what was wrong, just cried and screamed down the phone because I was so upset and distraught. Surprisingly it didn't turn into a huge row. It was suggested that that I should feel better for getting everything of my chest and maybe a did a little or I was just too tired to be upset anymore.

I went to see my son in the end as I wanted to see him in his new football kit that he was so proud of (I'd bought him the boots on Saturday). We went to the local park and I tried to play football - he thinks I'm good but in reality he'll likely be beating me easily by the time he's ten (or probably sooner than that)! We didn't spend long out as I still felt really tired so we headed back and I got to have a sit with him, watching telly, for half an hour or so as B gave me a drink, paracetamol and cough sweets. It was really nice to be sat there, I wish it could have gone on forever.

There are so many good times and good memories and occasions when we were all happy and got on. I can't really remember many of the rows now - well, apart from the one where I had a chicken sandwich thrown at me but that was funny in the end ... even more entertaining when we kept finding bits of sandwich over the subsequent weeks. I miss it all, I really do.

I have made choices along the way and I know that these have upset lots of people who I care a great deal about but honestly, I never chose to have this much hurt and pain, it really wasn't what I wanted at all. Unfortunately none of us in all this got to choose some things; I really didn't choose to be trans, I didn't even know, nor fully understand what that meant until about 4 years ago! My wife didn't get choose to fall in love with someone who was (unknowingly) trans either, and of course our son had no say in any of this.

It's all such a horrible shame and I so wish there was a way to make it all right again and for us all to be a family again. But there isn't.

Not a happy Christmas

I'm not sure what to say and I am just too upset for words really and on the edge of crying constantly but I guess if I at least try and write down what has happened it will explain, maybe make things worse, maybe make me feel bad as I think of the consequences. Sometimes things just hurt those involved so badly but there isn't anything you can do, it is just that way, no matter how much you wish it wasn't.

I have split up with Rachel.

The timing couldn't have been worse. As I write this I can see the mess I have made of Christmas and New Year for both of us. This season is just wrecked, completely and totally. It's a hideous, horrible, time now, all plans are out of the window, everything we might have done to have fun will not happen - the people we were going to see, the things we were going to do.

All ruined because of me, I was the one who ended the relationship.

I really don't have words to describe how I feel, sad, lonely, alone, isolated probably don't even come close. Confused as well, not sure what to do, and where to turn.

The finality and impact of the decision really hit home when I saw how fast the news appeared on the various social networking sites ... not only have we split up we have now had that made 'official' by Tweets, change in FaceBook status, and now this blog entry.

I really don't know what else to say. I need to try and get some sleep I guess before I can face the reality of this tomorrow. I'm not sure I want to face it, not sure I can deal with this Christmas anymore.

Abused, Angry and Upset

Have you ever been so angry or upset that you really wanted to hurt someone, wanting to make see them experience as much pain as they have made you feel? I have had only very few comments from idiotic and stupid people concerning my being trans and certainly never come across any such vile, base, and chauvinistic men as I encountered last night. I was left so upset and angry that I stated that such men should be dead.

We had decided to go for one last drink after a really fabulous afternoon and evening out to celebrate a friends birthday. We went to a fairly trendy-looking bar in London's China Town and managed to get a seat right at the back of the place, there were a group of guys there who seemed to be rather loud and probably drunk but I didn't think much of it and went to the toilet.

When I returned, Rachel had got the drinks and was carrying them back to the table and the the gang or guys seemed to be rather excitable and were making quite alot of comments along the lines of "get 'em out!" and other puerile chants. I should probably say that Rachel was wearing a very clingy dress, and a fedora hat and looked very glam, stylish, and frankly quite sexy. I'd gone for a shortish silver dress (more like a tunic), black tights and red shoes. Yes, we were quite 'over-dressed' but that was the theme of the day out.

Anyway, I guess, looking back on this, that the guys must have been chanting/whooping and maybe passing comments about Rachel while I was away so when she turned to me and said "Kiss me" I assumed it was to point out, in no uncertain terms, that we were a couple and not interested in the guys. Looking back that doesn't seem like it was such a good idea now as that just made them more excitable while we had a rather passionate kiss. It really didn't register as a problem at the time and we just smiled and sat down to have our drinks.

At this point one of the group sat down right next to me, uncomfortably close. I could see him in the mirror opposite and he was looking away from us but something in his body language told me that he'd sat there purposefully, it wasn't just because of lack of seating. I think a few of my friends noticed this and moved round so I could shift along. The guy then shifted along even closer.

I felt very uncomfortable, and was worried what he was going to do or say. I tightened the grip on my purse and pulled by coat closer on my lap, I felt like I was being bullied and harassed and it made me really angry to be made to feel like that. I'm not sure I can describe how horrible that is, though I'm pretty sure most women have experienced that at some point in their lives; a man who thinks he has the right to invade personal space, to show no respect, and to assume that what they intend to do, whether it's to talk, touch, or kiss (or worse) it is something they are entitled to do.

I really should have felt scared I guess but I was just really angry at being bullied and harassed in this way and it got to the point pretty quickly where I just felt so annoyed that I turned round to this guy and basically threatened to "knee him so hard, that he wouldn't be able to have children, if he didn't go away". The term "rash" doesn't really cover it in hindsight, I really should have either being more polite or just moved away.

Worse was to come, the guy just turned back to me and said "You're a guy!", to which I obviously responded that I was a woman and might have even mumbled "trans" in there somewhere but the damage was already done and he seemed to take great delight in going round his mates and telling them this. There were shouts of "hit him" and I'm not sure whether they were directed at me or him but at that point we decided to move so as not to find out. I was still really angry, in fact maybe more so and I tried to tell one of the bar staff who was just collecting glasses that the guys were harassing us and he said he'd sort out out but we just moved away instead.

We sat nearer the door where it was quite light and spacious and at one point Rachel got up to dance and I really would have loved to have got up with her; I did try but I had just had such a huge hole blown in my confidence that I had to sit down again. I felt horrible; angry at the way I was treated, wanting to inflict the same hurt or worse on the guy concerned, and upset at myself for how badly I'd handled things and for the comments I'd made. I'm sure any woman in the same position would have felt bad at resorting to saying such things, it's not how you want to behave, but it made me feel doubly worse I guess as I'd almost descended to a 'male' level.

I managed to hold the tears back until we got into our room at the hotel but eventually ended up crying my eyes out as Rachel hugged and tried to console me. Went to bed after that and thankfully fell asleep pretty quickly even with all of this going through my head. Having updated twitter last night I wanted to get everything written in the blog this morning so it was out of my head. I think the strangeness of how social-networking helps I deal with my problems is worthy of it's own post later on!

How do I feel now? Well, better for writing it all down, it does seem like I can forget about it now, secure in the knowledge that the experience is captured here. It's a nice day outside and hopefully we're all going to have a nice time exploring parts of London and I can push all of this to the back of my mind and not think about it.

Back home from Pride

I have to say that the parade was fabulous and at times very moving, I had tears in my eyes because of some of the groups there and the slogans on the flags or placards. There were also notable people that were just so sweet and nice like the guy who helped me up onto the wall so I could see the parade better or the girl that just stopped me in the street and told me, completely sincerely, that she thought my boots looked fab.

There was also the general atmosphere and fun of just being in a place where everyone is totally accepting or, at the very least, has seen much odder things than me and won't stare or be shocked.

But I didn't start the day well and it wasn't an entirely pleasant end either having to endure a complex train then bus journey home with very loud and drunk football fans, some of whom made a few comments, I'm guessing they were about me though I could be paranoid. I did have a lovely chat with a girl on the train who had had an even more complex trip up from London and talking about all sorts of things meant that part of the journey flew by.

Also I left earlier than planned because I lost touch with the few people I knew that were at Pride and could no longer take wandering around on my own and feeling like the only sad and unwanted single person there. I think next year I should at least plan ahead and go with friends.

All in all it was definitely a worthwhile experience and I have (hopefully) some fantastic pictures of the parade and a few other shots that might be decent enough to publish, I'll post them tomorrow. Now, I need to get to bed and rest my aching feet!

Holding back the tears

I saw my son on Friday night (went to the cinema to see Ice Age 3 and then onto McDonalds as a treat for him swimming 70m earlier in the week - so proud of him), then for a few hours on Saturday morning after which he had a party to go to so the plan was for him to come over again today.

Yesterday evening B phoned and said my son wanted to speak to me, he came on the phone and said he wouldn't be coming over today. I asked him if he was tired because I didn't want him to feel that I was upset or put undue pressure on him. I said it was fine and that if he changed his mind he could come over anyway.

Seems he had been a little upset after seeing me and was a bit tearful. Some of it could just be tiredness, getting to the end of term, excitement at things he's going to be doing soon and simply the fact that his house and the friends round it are way more interesting than what I can offer him here, my flat is never going to come close in that respect.

There is another reason and that is that he was upset by me. B had already told me that he'd said to her that he preferred seeing me in less feminine clothes and appearance, for example he liked it when we did the cycling as I obviously had no make-up on and looked like I always did before when I use to take him to school or go out on the bikes.

Yesterday he said the same thing to me directly as well. He was also staring at my chest at one point, obviously trying to work out why it looked the way it does (was particularly noticeable given the top I was wearing). We also had a brief conversation about 'moobs' and 'boobs' - I said I had the latter, he said that the former were what boys got when they had muscles.

Overall he's obviously been doing some thinking about this and it is upsetting him. So because of all this I said it was fine, I didn't mind not seeing him. I said the same to my friends, that it wasn't unexpected, it wasn't anyone's fault (he'd definitely NOT been pushed into this by his Mum or affected by her, this was his decision) and I just resigned myself to the fact and didn't think it had greatly upset me, obviously disappointed but it's one of those things.

Got back this morning around 3am and sat and watched a bit of a film while I had supper, it got to a sad bit and my eyes started to fill with tears, so I turned the film of, but I still kept crying and sobbing and it was obvious it wasn't about what I was watching. I thought I'd done so well keeping my feelings under control but clearly it couldn't last forever and I must have just snapped all the emotion came flooding out. Looking back I think I was dwelling on my son all night, thinking about him in the back of my mind.

So it seems my son isn't dealing with things as well as I'd (naively) hoped and in fact my transition is upsetting him a great deal. I really and truly never wanted to hurt him or anyone else because of this, but it looks like I must add him to the list of those that I have.

Hope it's just the tiredness

I'm confused.

I should be elated as I got a chance to do my make-up and hair, put on some lovely perfume, try on some clothes, and generally have a nice girly time. I even managed to get some liquid eye-liner on (if you've never tried doing this, trust me, it's not as easy as it looks unless the *want* it all over your eye-lids) and even managed to get some green eye-shadow that I think looks pretty good.

Still not happy though.

I keep finding things that aren't right, my weight, my figure (or lack of), the fact that it takes so much effort to look even half decent and I only get to do that every so often and I don't want it to stop ... but then again I don't think I'm getting it right enough to bother carrying on.

What I want is some miracle pill that will help me look and feel like the me I want to be, which isn't the me I have to be alot of the time.

Of course, all of the above could just be the fact that I'm tired and did more than the usual amount of exercise today (looooonnnnnggg right cycle ride) so that's making me feel low. I hope so anyway.