“Owner of a lonely heart. Much better than an owner of a broken heart.”


How’re tricks?

This time around the post is, to coin a well-loved phrase, a game of two halves. Well, not so much on the game front. That would imply some type of playing about or…. actually, I don’t know, but something less than serious. 🙂


As I write it’s Tuesday afternoon and I’ve just come back from my first counselling session. It was a positive experience and we talked about a number of issues. How do I feel right now? A little calmer than when I left. Back then, I left… well, not upset, but like I had been shaken up internally. As if there was a swirling wind within me; something pushing at the metaphorical bars trying to get out, but it couldn’t. So, I sat and ate my lunch in the autumn sun as I waited for the bus. Eyes now safely behind dark glasses and the anonymity of the street to let me think. I gazed out of the window on the way back, trying to ignore the people I could see and make sense of what was going on internally. Like other t-folk this week, I seem to be feeling jealous of the female form. I hope it’s just a side effect of being down. The alternative scares me too much.

Matthew Johnstone’s I Had a Black Dog

Some of the things we spoke about, well, they’re deeply personal and I won’t reveal them on here. Not that I don’t trust you guys not to take it seriously, but not everything is about me – there’s family stuff too and I try to keep the Jones Massive out of the limelight. What I can do is talk about in vague terms. We talked about work, home-life, relationships and – of course – the T word. The councillor, was insightful and lead me down a number of paths through conversation. She said that she has to try and not make a snap judgement, but probe around the subjects and find out a general picture of what may be wrong. Talking of pictures, the image to the right is by Matthew Johnstone. He wrote/drew a couple of books and that’s from I had a Black Dog. He has a blog and it makes for very interesting reading. Hopefully he won’t mind me using one of his excellent illustrations.

Last time, the lady in question had said that it may be undisclosed grief. I guess mentally I’d prepared myself to talk about that… yet, instead, I found my barriers falling down and being completely open. I told myself that I needed to be open, open so that I could get everything in the open. No secrets, no lies. It’s not something I do very often and I found it tough. I know the young lady does this as a job (and well I might add), but opening your heart to a complete stranger: I found that tough. Hell, we talked about some things that I don’t tell anyone: not even the Ever Lovely Mrs Jones.

After about 35 minutes or so, the councillor said that she had a feeling towards a pattern appearing. That was that I smooth things over. In order to keep stuff going – work, socially and personally – I disconnect and compromise to keep the peace. Yes, it gets the job done, but there is a price. The price is this: I don’t always get to be me. She said that maybe in the last year or so, maybe I smoothed things over so much… that… that I forgot to be me. “Will the real Slim Shady please stand up? Looks like we’re going to have a problem here.” 🙂

Ironic in a way I suppose. At work I can be immensely forthright – double barrel blunt on many an occasion. Yet socially and at home, the opposite can be true. Maybe I feel that work, it’s not personal so in the giant swing of things, it doesn’t matter? I don’t know, I’m not a professional headologist 😉

Where do we go from here? Well, another session: same Bat Time, same Bat Channel. It’s left me with a number of questions and a lot of think about. One of them is how much am I holding back on the trans front. We talked about body image at one point and that I don’t shave my legs. Most of the time it doesn’t bother me, I can work round it (two pairs of tights or leggings and I’m good), yet… Yet, there’s something else that lurks along with those thoughts. They don’t look how I feel. I don’t consider myself female, I never have. I’m somewhere in the middle: mentally, bits of both as I’ve blogged about in the past. But being hairy, I’ve never liked it. It just…. it just doesn’t feel right.

Coming back to smoothing things over, Mrs J isn’t happy about smooth pins. It upsets her a great deal. I guess the question is this: what price freedom? How much do I push for me to feel right at the expense of others? Can you have your cake and eat it?

Decisions, decisions eh? 🙂


Sometimes, things just don’t work out. I’m not going to the Big Night Out. I am up and down like a yo-yo today. This morning, parked up in a layby sobbing away, I was worried that I’d wrecked things between me and Mrs J. I dried my eyes, pulled a brave face from somewhere and went to work. How very British. 😉 Things are better than they were, but I still seem to be slipping back into the dark mire. I wish it would just f*** off, I really do.

Still, it’s the weekend (for us at least) and that means no work to do, time with the family and maybe a trip to town for a spot of shopping. All stuff to look forward to.

Take care,

[ Today’s lyric Owner of a Lonely Heart by Yes ]


  1. What can I say Lynn? I recognise those feelings, they arent any better when youre single.
    I think compromise is the only way to go. Hope youre feeling a bit better, I know its not easy. (british understatement alert).
    You have my mobile number if you want to talk. Or there is the computer…

  2. Sympathise and empathise. Especially on the body hair. But, as Sophie writes, the grass isn't greener – the context may be different, but the boundaries are just as real, just differently aligned.

    So we muddle on down a sort of middle path, without realising that this is actually a positive choice we have made. Smoothing things over, keeping the peace, this isn't because we haven't the guts to be "ourselves", it's a very powerful and empowering choice we have made. And there are sometimes spells when it feels like a huge sacrifice.

  3. Hi Lynn,

    It must be hard for both of you not to be in control of this thing.

    I hope you and Mrs J patch things up ok.
    I take it she isn't interested in taking part in 'Lynn stuff' then?

    Just remember you are not alone and there are people out there that think about you a lot and look upto you and you are loved xxx

    Samantha xoxox

  4. Thank you all for your kind words of encouragement. It means a lot. I'm sorry the post was a bit heavy in places, but sometimes that's the way it goes.


    Sophie: I am feeling better thanks and ta for the chat t'other night too. Very much appreciated.
    I don't think being single is the answer and it's not a route I want to go down. I like being married and I love Mrs J and the kids. I think when I manage to get out of the dark, a lot of things will improve.

    Claire: If I find the answer, I'll be sure to share it with you. 🙂 I thought your post this week was rather fab – more Brit understatement 🙂

    Demi: No, the grass isn't always greener and I don't want to explore the option of being single. I don't think it's the right answer for me, Mrs J or the nippers. Mentally, it would drive us all through the ringer – although Little Miss is probably too young to remember – and financially, I can't provide enough for two households. I really don't want to go there.

    Jess: Thank you, Jess.

    Samantha: It's not easy, I'll give you that. 🙂 That's not to say that I have it bad, there are folk who have it far worse than I and for far longer. My problem with it – the black dog if you will – is it seems to come from nowhere. One day, it's a typical day, some good bits, some bad bits: so it goes. Then… the colour seems to drain from the world. Not even shopping helps 😉

    We have sorted thing out thanks. Mrs J is good about my trans stuff, but she's not actively involved. She's never seen me in Lynn mode (or a photo) and really, I'm not sure I want her to either.

    Having this blog, emails to friends and the good people at Chams all helps. I'll get over this and be back to my old self. I don't know how long it'll take, but I'm not sitting down in the darkness forever.

    As to being looked up at, thanks for that. I feel…. no, I sometimes feel that I've let the tranny side of things down. Yet, we all slip up once in a while. To project this super-trans image would be pure BS. 🙂

  5. Keep at it, Lynn.

    It can be difficult opening up, but it's essential. Otherwise you risk leaving somethings still-covered.

    An analogy I used (not saying it's right for you! Only you can decide that), was that of a big door. A massive oaken thing, it had big iron hinges, painted black, and a forbidding handle and lock. It was all set into a frame of stone, like an old church. I spent a long time trying to open that door, or keep it closed. What I didn't realize was that the entire construction wasn't set into anything! There were no walls.

    Not exploring all of what was behind the door led to me not seeing what I really needed to face up to, and understand. And all I had to do was walk around the door. When I looked back, on the other side of that door, I couldn't help notice that the door didn't exist.

    Therapy is a journey; don't expect any quick understanding. Sometimes a revelation arrives on a high speed line. More often it has layer after layer of crud on it, all which need peeling back.

    It does get easier. Believe me, it does.

    Carolyn Ann

  6. Hi Lynn,
    Like you I have issues with hairy legs. I really just don't like having leg hair. Never have, but it's expected that men shave their faces but not their legs – and I bought into that for decades.
    My dear wife was deeply unhappy when I finally stopped messing about with the trimmer and shaved mine. It still makes me squirm to think of how unhappy she was. A couple of years on and things have settled down. She and my daughter joke about it but it's not an issue. I'm still me, and I'm still a bloke – never want to be anything else.

    Re depression – you must try to remember that most folks get miserably depressed. I think its part of realising that life is finite and really, there are some things that are just not going to be on the map. For instance, it took me 10 years to come to terms with the fact that I was never going to have more than one child. Count your blessings.
    So if there is a message here, it's that there is no one-size-fits-all model. You can be a man and still like female things. And being yourself is what counts.

    Sorry to drone on a bit. Hope this helps, even if only a little bit….

    Chin up!


  7. Stace: You said something, sometimes… that is enough.

    I had to Google your closing and I think it fits perfectly.

    Carolyn Ann: I found myself nodding in agreement as I read your comment. To be honest with you, I didn't want this – the depression – to be about being trans or me feeling a bit trapped by it – I wanted it to be something…. something everyday and not always about bloody dressing up. I guess you don't get to pick though do you? 🙂 Maybe it's best to keep plodding away at it, maybe the answer will turn up – either fast-line or crud-covered. So long as it arrives, I'm easy either way. 🙂

    Penny: It does help, thanks. When the Black Dog is away, I find it easy to count my blessings. Health, family, friends, etc. I have an easy life compared to some. Yet, and as I've said earlier, when the depression strikes… the colour goes from the world and I doubt a cheque for 1000 quid would raise a smile (although I'd like to test that wager LOL). I think what I need to do is work out where I'm going and try not to f*** everything up at home. It's not an easy juggling act. I don't want to be female… or perhaps, more accurately trans. I'm not interested in presenting as a woman 24/7. I mean… how long does it take to get ready and an evening of heels is enough. Jokes aside, transition and family life at Chez Jones are not compatable.

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