I miss them all so much… *sniff* Never go through photo albums alone, you always end up going "I miss you so much!".
I can't believe how much we have all changed, the first photos from 1997 up to now, and the differences are really incredible. I suppose I can claim to have changed the most, but for the others it was the final maturing which did it, while mine are now chemically induced. I've been virtually unphotographable for the last 8 months because of the Roaccutane and before that I had this impossible mop of hair which I hated not being able to do anything with. So, now that my face actually has some oil back in it, and my hair has come to a point where I actually like it, maybe I'll whip out the camera with a bit more frequency.
I still can't pick the changes to my face. I know there is supposed to be an increase in the fat layer under the skin, but (IMHO) I'm getting a more rounded oval type look due to something going on along my jaw-line. Maybe it's becoming less harsh, but I need some nice photos (which I don't have the intense urge to rip up) to go for a comparison.
That's the other thing which really gets me going. I was reading a description of "primary" vs. "secondary" transsexuals. It's not just the term which seems to infer that one is better than the other, but their language in this British report totally annoyed me. It inferred that "secondary" transsexuals were actually mostly glorified transvestites or effeminate homosexuals, whilst the ideal "10%" could seemingly do no wrong. I could easily identify myself as a "primary" transsexual, but I'm damned if I'm going to work within their petty little boxes and definitions. I will define myself, and I will direct my medical treatment as I, a highly educated and well informed and researched person can. Grrr… Hear me roar… sort of. ;)
The other thing which has struck my amusement/conceptual zone tonight was the idea of the last 8 months or so as a chrysalis period for me. Wrapped tight in a cocoon of dry flesh, hidden from the world I have begun my metamorphosis. The coincidal nature of the Roaccutane and hormone therapies have meant that now as I slowly start to come back into the world again, I am a changed person both mentally and physically. My retreat was prompted by the fact that physically I could not bear the light and mentally did not wish to be seen in that hideous state. The idea of the rebirth is easily seem with the plain caterpillar becoming a wonderful butterfly, and it suggests a positive upwards notion. Therefore it is a perfect model for forward improvement.
Whatever… Phttbbbbbb… *blows raspberry* ;)

I was just wondering in the shower (as usual) what I would say if someone were to ask me why I am a transsexual. My response…

"Have you seen the famous painting the "Mona Lisa"?"

"Yes."

'Describe it to me."

"Um… it's a woman with dark hair and eyes wearing a dark cloak and it's set against a green nature type background."

"Now do you think that that description does any kind of justice to the real thing? No explanation in the human language even with infinite time could help me to explain why I am what I am to you."

It's a pity there aren't more transsexual therapists, at least they would have the "insiders" understanding by default. There is so much to be said for empathy. If I couldn't settle for the good old "sex-change" machine dreamt of by countless legions of tranny's, then I would settle for a machine which would allow people to feel the true empathic feeling that another is trying to get across.

Ok, before I ossify any more, to bed…