Drifting Sexuallity
This is something that has been on my mind for a long time now, the ever present question of sexuality. Boys vs Girls, choosing and should I even have to.
I have always felt myself to be bisexual, well, bi curious until a few years back. Fear was without doubt the biggest thing that held me back during my teens, I told a close friend at college and the next day it was all over campus. Learnt the hard way that perhaps the company I kept wasn't as liberal as myself on such issues. A string of hetro relationships followed, that was ok, I liked girls, very much in fact.
Fast forward 15 years and the question was back in my mind, the desire to transition and be true to myself was strongly in focus after being buried so very deep for so very long.
My first intimate experiences with the male variety was a mixed experience in many ways, very enjoyable, but also wrapped up in the emotional torment of the time as one period of my life came to close and another opened.
Since then, though transition and HRT I've come to know many people online of both genders and a pattern has emerged. Most boys are potatoes (with a penis). I think this quote sums it up perfectly.
Ron, just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all do
~Hermione Granger
There are an exceptional few, one in particular comes to mind as I write this, I met him in SL while shopping for animations for the briefest of moments.
In ten minutes of normal conversation he took my heart in his hands and made it flutter. In ten everlasting minutes I was nervous, excited and enthralled. He was like a drug, cutting straight through everything I had ever thought about men, straight to my core and making it his, every part of my being erupting into light with a word. I have never felt so much so condensed.
He gave me ten whole minutes and then was gone. It felt like a lifetime and I don’t even know his name.
Girls on the other hand (transgender girls included) are a whole different world, emotionally deep and fluid, like a sea bubbling and frothing under the surface and for me, that makes it.
While it fits to say "I lust after boys, I fall in love with girls." its not quite how I feel.
It's the person that I fall for, everything else, height, hair colour, contents of knickers, shoe size .... secondary to the personality, the mind, the depth, individuality, what makes the person who they are.
It just so happens that most of the time, boys aren't even in the game.
Back in England :(
After a long and tortuous trip I'm now back in England in one piece ... well, physically anyway.
I've left heart and my home in Olympia. I miss Miya and Sarah so much, I'm trying to put a strong face on things but inside I'm screaming. I've not been able to get more than a few hours sleep at any time, if I don't cry myself to sleep I wake racked with grief. I keep expecting to see them just walk in or when I look up from my laptop, and when I don't it breaks my heart.
I don't know how long I have to live in exile, I don't know when I will see them again and its killing me.
Following my encounter with Garcia when I first landed in the US, I was worried he had put stuff in my file that would make future trips much harder than they should be. On the way back my fears were realised. My checked luggage was searched at every airport in the US I passed through, seems the TSA have me on their lists. I'm terrified I will try to go back to the US and find I've been red flagged, get taken for an interview only to be turned away and flown home. All because I'm trans and Garcia doesn't like trans.
Being back in the village I grew up isn't comfortable for me. Went out to the pub for a meal to celebrate my Dad's birthday,feeling shattered and jet lagged I decided to walk home before everyone else. Big mistake. Walking the familiar streets home I felt more afraid for my own safety than I have in many years, more terrified than I have ever been at any time during my transition.
When I was a teenager I was beaten frequently for having long hair and looking girly, several times it happened as little as 50 metres from my front door. I remember being so scared that I wouldn't leave the house on foot, and walking home has brought all those memories flooding back.
I know most of the people responsible will have moved on years ago, I know I shouldn't be as afraid as I am, but I don't feel safe here out alone. Don't think I ever will.
US Trans Immigration Help!
We're in desperate need of any help and advice, if anyone knows of similar cases can you please get in touch (trinity.deja at googlemail.com), via Trinity Dejavu in Secondlife or trinity0002d on YIM.
I'm a uk cit, pre-op male to female transexual, I have had no surgery at this point and have been living full time for the last 2 years.
I changed my name and title in the UK 2 years ago by deed poll then when applied for a passport the UK office asked for a letter concerning my op status. My GP wrote me a letter saying "to the best of my knowledge, this person intends to transition fully" this got me a F gender marker on my passport.
My birth certificate stills says M.
I wish to marry my US born female partner and immigrate to live together in the US.
Can we do this? (as im still M everywhere except passprt)
Will I be treated as M or F for marriage and immigration purposes? Will I be seen as M for one and F for the other?
I really need all the help I can get on this, were tearing our hair out not knowing if we can stay together. We dont want to live in the UK (even though that would be simpler).
Update : To Rachel who commented below, Please get in touch - We really need to talk to the people involved as there case could really help us.
rachel
July 20th, 2008 01:11 elong story short, according to my friend Nikki who did the same. You’re still federally considered male as your birth cert says so. You can legally marry her due to the above. Nikki did the same.
Likewise, we need contact information for people with similar cases, this would be an amazing help!
Diary of my Dreams
I've been toying with the idea of writing my dreams down for years, just another one of those things that come bedtime I've forgotten about, no biggie, I don't remember my dreams anyway, never have.
Now my dreams stick with me for days and I can't shake them. Fears, uncertainty and memories mingle exposing the fragility of things taken for granted. Hopes and desires papering the cracks fall away like tissue paper leaving me hollow. More often than not I wake wet with tears and if I don't, the memories dragged back into focus reach into my heart and pull with such force that I can't stop.
The following are just summaries, all I can bare to commit into writing.
The first dream I've left the US and I'm unable to go back, something happens to miya in my absence and I can't comeback to say goodbye. When I finally do many months later I visit her parents home and see her ashes in a tin on the side. Sarah isn't here either, I need her and don't know where she is. My heart is broken, ripped from my body smashed into a despair so intense that I take miya upstairs, open the tin and cut my wrists over her cremated remains. I give her my life in the hope she will live again and we will be together forever.
In the second I'm out shopping with Zoe (my daughter, 7), we're inside a sprawling makeshift building with many rooms and staircases in every direction each with people selling everything you can imagine, things layed out on tables and colorful blankets. It feels like a carboot sale or market. Zoe is excited and difficult to control, I have to keep chasing her from place to place, telling her not to touch, telling her there are things she can't have or doesn't have the money for. My exwife is here but she doesn't look well, here face is tired and looks thin. She needs to find something but I'm distracted with Zoe and can't help her.
I wake, it's very early and I lay in bed crying and trying to clear my head. Sarah and miya are here with me asleep. I know I should wake them but I wont. The sounds of them sleeping are soothing and bring a smile to my face, Let them sleep, just for a little longer.
I'm ok, just dreams, I still don't remember them most days, I think that's for the best.
The Wonder Years
I've wished I was born a girl since puberty (at which point everything just seemed to go the wrong way). I remember the excitement of 'Sex Education' in high school and learning about periods, breasts and babies. It simply didn't click during the first few lessons that I was a boy and non of those wonderful things would happen to me.
I remember walking between classes and it hitting me like a sledge hammer - I wont have periods, I have the wrong bits. I broke my heart in the toilets and was late for my next class, sobbed most of that night wishing I had never been born and it's stuck with me ever since.
It's not like I hadn't known I was a boy, I suppose I just expected things to work out in the end. Maybe it would drop off, maybe I would wake up one morning in the right body, I knew you "changed" during puberty. Maybe I took the meaning of the word change to far. All I know is that my physical gender wasn't an issue till I found out it wasn't what I knew at heart.
My teenage years were a living hell. I found the company of few girls better than many of my male friends, I grew my hair long, my waistline curved in where a womans does and my breasts did bud for a short time. I looked and felt different and was almost always alone or excluded.
I used to get beaten up for my appearance, a couple of the rougher groups of lads would make my life hell at every opportunity, and a couple of boys made sure I left the encounter stained with my own blood and in a mess.
In the end I was scared to leave the house, going to the village centre was out of the question and when I ever did go out, I adjusted my routes to be sure I wouldn't bump into them - it didn't always work. The resulting depression would see me standing at the top of the stairs willing myself to dive down them in the hope I would break my neck and die. Fear of failure stopped me.
It only ended when the worst bully was pratting around on a bridge over the railway lines, slipped and fell on the power lines, then fell again to the track. He lived, electrocuted, frazzled, badly burnt and broken, but alive. Safe to say I've been a firm believer in Karma ever since.