Jan 11 99

I'm tired… 'one day'. How many 'one days' are there out there? Things we tell ourselves one day we will have… so we go on and do what we need to do because one day things will be different, or better. For me it's school related… one day I'll be working and on a different schedule, making real money and able to do HRT when I want. One day.

Jan 13 98

Hey there. Just me checking in. I'm doing okay… realized what had been bugging me the last few days, or at least what helps to ease my mind…. Crossdressing. Silly? Perhaps. There's something warm and fuzzy about looking down your front and seeing those two lumps there… Whew… "one day… one day" The one-day song. Am I in the wrong for thinking about the future… I mean… I'm not whaling pain and misery about the present because I know that what I think I want is achievable. I look into the mirror and see the face that I'd like to see develop… less beard and more smooth cheeks.

I close my eyes and I feel peace. God… please let me one day have breasts and a pussy. I'm not looking to abandon who I am… nor am I seeking to ruin my life… but I feel so relaxed… and like to think of looking at myself externally and seeing a woman… and peering inside and embracing whatever womanhood is inside of me.

Jan 13 98

Sometimes I feel like I've being pulled in a few different directions at once. I have the "study work sleep" schedule which is not really conducive to fat-burning exercise. I need to loose about 75 pounds so I can have SRS in the U.S…. seems so distant. Easy to give up hope sometimes… the little thoughts and voices that ask "do you really want SRS?", "are you really a woman?"… they exist but seem to be very faint… echo off empty walls and diminish. Right now there's not really an option for anything beyond what I am doing… I want to find out more… and I'll get it in time… I just need to be patient.

Jan 18

Well, almost bedtime. Almost time to take off my clothes… put the bra away and get the cosmetics off my face. I know I’d have to do it for bedtime anyway, but there’s something sad in spending one’s whole weekend ‘ala femme’ and then shedding that for another week. I suppose so long as I am desiring more of it than I’m on the right track. I just don’t want to be deluding myself… if that makes any sense. I don’t want to be in fantasy land… I want to be rooted in reality… because that’s where I live… and I want to be a woman there. I hope that one day I’ll look back upon all this and laugh… chances are I’ll say something like “oh… if only I knew then what I knew now”… or “I can’t believe I waited so long to do this… but I know I did the right thing” or some such stuff. Oh well… gonna spend the last few moments snuggling with my teddy bear.

Jan 19 – late

Tonight my roommate had a friend over, so I curtailed my plans for woman mode till it was safe. I don’t know if that is an accurate descriptor… I like to think of myself as being basically the same no matter what I do… be it wearing a bra or not. So when I say ‘woman mode’, it’s not like my personality changes. What does is the fact that I stuff my bra with some extra pantyhose… and I might wear some lipstick to keep my lips from becoming chapped over the course of the evening. So I don’t know if ‘woman mode’ is more like it… perhaps I should say “inflated bra mode” or something.

So as I walk back into my room… I say “but I feel better… and that’s more important to me.” I wonder how true that is…. I mean it sounds good. In the end it’s you who’s gotta be, and what you gotta do and look at yourself everyday in the mirror. How many women get up and see the perfect woman staring at them in the mirror? Isn’t that what the whole cosmetics and fashion industry is about… filling the gap between what is, and what could be in our mind’s eye? In the extreme it’s plastic surgery… but in the microcosm it can be simple shading techniques with foundation, loose powder, and neutral toned blush. Eyeliner can be used to narrow wide eyes, or widen narrow eyes. Lip pencil can make fuller narrow lips… I mean these are all ‘corrective’ things.

So, if we are happy with ourselves… or rather (more for me in this case) if we are happy with the results from the steps we are taking… then are we not doing the ‘right’ thing for ourselves based on our own standards? I mean I know I’m never going to be on the cover of the Woman’s Home Journal… but isn’t the fact that I actually look at myself in the mirror and not go “phhhffft!!!!” at the man there… but say “you’re getting cute, you know that?” to myself.

My only hope is that I don’t look like a man in drag… but for goodness sake… I’ve got the un-altered body of a man… and I’m wearing woman’s clothes. I’m not trying to be a female impersonator… I’m just being me… and I feel more at home with the bra in the inflated position.

So… while I don’t want to appear as a man in drag… there are limitations to what I can do to not appear so for the time being… so I accept it and move on. I think I’m looking good… and that’s what matters. Sure I’d like others to think so… but I’ve seen many types of women come and go… there’s no reason I can’t fit amongst them… but even were I born a genetic woman I’d be someone you’d stare at anyway… people are curious… and there just are not that many woman near 6 foot tall. But they exist… we can’t all be supporting the “plus woman’s” section of Wal-Mart or JC Penny. Jan 21 – Thursday

I thought about breaking out the cosmetics and such… but in the end I just decided on the lipstick I hate. It may sound silly, but one of the first things I can remember… well, one of the things that I really wanted to do was wear lipstick. I can even remember when I was in 1st grade winning a prize from my teacher’s grab-bag treasure box… basically it was a hard candy in the shape of a lipstick. I remember that when I opened the lipstick case and found it was candy… well, I was a bit upset. I wanted it for the lipstick… not really the candy. I can remember being in the playground at school trying to make the candy lipstick work… and knowing that the candy was for girls. Anyway, knowing how much I wanted to be able to wear lipstick… well… when I have the opportunity now-a-days, I put it on. I even wear it when I go to bed to keep my lips from getting chapped in the winter.

I don’t use up cosmetics quickly… I suppose I have had this batch for quite a while. I took advantage of the Christmas Shopping rush to buy several cosmetic things I’ve always wanted… in the form of “gift sets”… cosmetics, brushes, and tools of the trade. Before Christmas, I had some things that I had bought at the occasional trip to the grocery store. My trick was to buy a lot of groceries, and to place the cosmetics somewhere in the middle of my order. Usually the order would get started, and for the most part the cashier does not even look up at you until the order is done… and by that time they’d rather get you out of the way than look at you and ask you about the lipstick you just bought. My latest set of clothes came from a visit to a Wal-Mart down near my folks, where I did not know anyone there, nor me them… and chances are we’d never meet again… so I did not feel odd about buying bras… heh.

Jan 22 – late

Whist I was having dinner with my friend, he mentioned the ability of his medical company to allow for minor organ transplants. According to the “boys in the lab”, the company can medically (not legally) transfer any organ (including the penis) from one person to another. I asked about the feasibility of a vagina transplant, and he said it was medically possible. I figure that means within the next twenty or so years it may be legal as well (and safe… we hope). So perhaps waiting is not all that bad.

Anyway, back to the conversation with my friend, it did bring up some old thoughts that I’ve had… mostly why I wanted to be a woman back in the early 90’s… mostly they are still with me. One of these is the fact that I would like to have sex with a man as a woman… and be able to be a wife/friend/mother to a man. I’m a terrific person… bright, loving… all good things. If a man doesn’t see that in me… well, too bad for him. Another reason is that I like the feeling of having breasts… feeling them against my body… I feel more complete as a person with breasts. I shared these with my friend, and we went though a round of questions.

Jan 23 – early

I can’t sleep late… I woke up with things on my mind… not really troublesome things. But there is much I’d like to do today… it’s my first day back at work. I awoke to a daydream of me working at a theater in Chiefland, which is about 40 minutes from Tampa, where I could get what I would need for hrt and srs.

I’m kind of troubled by my thoughts… their not negative, but I am growing tired of wishing to be a woman, or talking about being a woman, or looking in the mirror and seeing how far I have to go. I suppose this is where a therapist would help me out, but based on my experience this is something I can handle here at home.

Sometimes I wonder if I am fooling myself in some ways. I guess after last night’s conversation with my friend I am wondering how realistic my plans are… how realistic I am. I know that this is what I want to do, so I suppose I can just leave it at that and let things fall where they may. My plans for hrt and srs are do-able… I just have to wait.

Something that is bothering me is the notion that transsexuals are female impersonators. Maybe they are… I don’t know… I’m not at that stage of the game yet. But what’s got me upset is the fact that no matter what a genetically born woman does, she is still a woman… no matter what ideals she lives by, no matter what her sexual preference is, or what clothes she wears… how she acts… how she talks, how she walks… a woman is a woman. Why can’t a transsexual woman be the same way? It’s like there’s a special set of rules for transsexuals from society.

Jan 29

I close my eyes and think about where I am. I am thankful I can type and not watch the screen. What is going on with the keys. I can feel my fingers on the keys. Am I typing? What do I see in the darkness behind my eyelids? I see myself in the living room about half an hour ago. I am wearing a blue skirt, a blue blouse, and white heels… gray hose. I sit on the edge of the couch all proper... I look in the mirror and ask if there is anything on my mind. Everything.

I want to slow down time for a moment… to feel what is going on around me. The feel of the bra against my skin.. the throbbing of my feet. The fan in my hair. What is there?

What is my prize for being alive today? I have made it another week. Next week another week. Next year another year. Two years I graduate again. I have a job… pay my bills. My hair longer? If I have something to do with it. I look for myself… refine myself. Getting slimmer, getting female… growing breasts.. exercising. Growing. This morning I saw myself. I saw a woman my size… she looked good.

God… I don’t know if I really am concerned with why I am this way… but when can I grow breasts… when will my beard hairs go way? I want more to my life than wearing make-up and sitting in front of my computer on a Friday night… more than a stuffed bra. More than tired feet from ill-fitting shoes. I believe it exists.

Back to Main Page