How’s it going? All piglets fed and ready to fly? Good, good. Fly my porcine beauties, fly, fly and be free!
While you where sleeping.
I don’t know about you, but Christmas completely threw my sleep patterns. Late nights, late mornings then early nights because of an early start. In an ideal world, it would be late nights and late mornings! Sadly my employer doesn’t see it like that, but hey, you can’t have it all can you? 🙂 So – and at the risk of sounding like Jesse’s Diary – this week I have mostly been trying to get to bed earlier than previous. So far, so good.
The sleeping plan was going well until Thursday. Thursday was a night out with the NottsChams girls and you know how it is, you get chatting to folk and before you know it, it’s gone 11. Still, good fun none-the-less. Daphne hosted a quiz which was done in her usual irrevrant style and did well to cope with the silly answers provided and the catcalls. Top marks, gold star for you dear. Sandi asked for some volunteers for other things to do on a night. Looks like I may be doing a music quiz. Here’s your starter for ten! 🙂
Good for the Soul
I’ve been name-checked (or is that blog-checked or tagged?) twice this week. It’s nice to receive compliments isn’t it? Doubly so when it is from your fellow bloggers. Becky’s summary made me laugh – as did Chrissie’s comments (she her blog links). Older sister indeed [lol]! Thanks girls! Maddie – welcome to the blogosphere. Get posting baby! 🙂
Why the blog title Yet Another T-Girl Blog? I guess it’s because blogs are so commonplace and when I started up, they seemed The Next Big Thing. I wasn’t sure what I’d be writing about, only that I wanted to write something. So I picked something tongue-in-cheek and went with it. The perceptive amongst you will have noticed its similarity to a few computer applications.
Does my bum look big in this?
I popped into town earlier in the week thinking I’d have a look at those Curves Up knickers Ann Summers are selling. Yes, they are a gadget, but men love gadgets! But sadly, they’d sold out (boo!) But the very nice lady behind the counter said she’d pick some up from the Derby store and I could have those (yay!). So, I’m now a proud owner of a pair of knickers with their own bum. This reminds me that I must get my camera repaired so I can do a before and after. This is yet another t-girl blog after all and it would be rude to buck the trend. 🙂
The Big Question: Why?
Why? Why indeed. What makes a young boy pick up a pair of his mum’s tights from the laundry room and go and try them on. Perhaps watching Belles or Cupid Stunt (classic!) is to blame. Because – and let’s face it – television is the director in our lives isn’t it? Oh, it isn’t? Ah, okay, well a less flippant answer then. Chances are this’ll take a bit of time, so you might want to get a cup of tea or something. 🙂
Why? I used to ask this a lot when I was young. Why am I not ‘normal’? But then football, drinking beer until I was ill, stiff upper lip and macho posturing were never my thing. The local junior school was a tough place. 🙂 But seriously, who I am to judge? All I can say is that they are not for me. So, instead it was a secret life with me fighting the ‘urge’ to just let go and accept. Be a man, be straight, I would think. So, if there are teenage t-girls reading this, and if you want a grain of truth from an older bird; heed the words of Primal Scream: don’t fight it, feel it. (Primal Scream? Nah? Ask your Dad…or Google). Just accept. Accept that you have talents that other men do not. Okay, so you have a slight wider wardrobe that Joe Public, good. Most of them dress like chavs anyway. 🙂 It won’t be easy, but is it worth it.
I think we all know that life is too short; too short for you to deny and fight yourself for the sake of a fictional normality. I wonder if that’s why it takes a while for trans folk to start coming out in their late 20s / early 30s. Perhaps it’s the loss of friends or parents that makes you realise that you have a finite time here. As the saying goes: it’s better to regret something you have done, that something you haven’t. How true. Another way of looking at it is that it is our genetic programming (to go back to an earlier post). Maybe we fight it during out teens – with the occasional and joyous lapse – but as we get older, we become our genetics more and more. How many times have you caught yourself saying: “I’m becoming my parents?” If it *is* genetic, maybe that is why it is so bloody hard to stop.
So, three paragraphs later and I still haven’t answered the question. If only I was paid by the word eh? So, why do I do it? [Ed: stay focused, Lynn. Stay on target! Uh-oh, we’re loosing her, she’s going into a Star Wars daydream.] Why? Because it’s fun. Because it is who I am. I’m not him/her, I’m me. I have male and female aspects to who I am. Wearing a dress doesn’t make you female and to be honest, that isn’t the point of being trans. It’s about looking good and feeling good. It’s about the social, the going out, feeling the wind on your face and the sound of your shoes on the pavement, having a laugh with the ‘girls’….or maybe that’s just me. For you it could be none of those things. What I will say is this: it is just about being you: accept and relax. Breath in, breath out.
It has taken me a long time to get here and it hasn’t been without the help of others. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, those that make a difference, the folk who organise the socials, run web pages, forums or who blog / invade MySpace or who walk down the high street en femme – you push the envelope and society learns that we exist….. and maybe, just maybe, some of us will come in from the cold and join in the fun.
No Going Back
Fool that I am, I’ve switched to the new version of Blogger. Fingers crossed eh?