Halloween & Brains

Fun stuff first, Halloween approaches, the cross dressers high holiday. Remarkably I never took advantage of this one occasion in western civilization where dressing as a woman is “acceptable”. Of course I was too worried that I would give away my secret.

Also I usually found myself travelling on Halloween and had no desire to pass through customs dressed as a French maid. This year is different I will be home to hand out candy or take the children trick or treating.

Perhaps this year a costume, nothing too outré… witch, Vampyra, Corpse Bride, Morticia Addams, or even a princess. Nothing showing too much leg, Bettie Page would be so cool but I wouldn’t want the neighbors to get the wrong idea….yet!

A post in two parts as I didn’t want to just talk about being down.

The big city meeting yesterday went well and it looks like our company will retain the client and continue to make money, not as much as this year but still pretty damn good for the industry and economy.

I have a love hate relationship with the city, I envy the excitement and crave the corner office but am repulsed by the disparity between the have and have nots. Such a suburbanite.

It is frustrating sometimes to work so hard at your job but then still have to SELL yourself and the product, sigh I have no problem with unfettered capitalism but sometimes I just want to go to work do my job and then go home.

Some opportunity for a transition job but it is very dependent on other people making things happen. Potential conflict of interest does not allow me to participate and that is maddening. Especially as I am the woman to make it all happen.

Yesterday had me so keyed up the inevitable physical and mental crash followed. Low level bickering my SO (really SO is unfair a term, so gender neutral. She is my wife however I don’t wish to acknowledge my male role as husband, granted a role that I have abdicated some time back).

Any disagreement with my biggest supporter is a quick off ramp to a depressive episode. Slept most of last evening instead of working on computer or cars. This morning found me weepy and full of gender dysphoria, short of temper and generally pissed at the world.

Listened to an interesting interview on the radio as I tried to bend the laws of space and time on my morning commute. Basically recent discoveries show that the brain is constantly evolving itself (neuroplasticity) and as such offers the possibility for all sorts of mental health cures. An example would be training the brain to correct the “mental misfire” that causes obsessive compulsive disorder. Perhaps depression can be equally switched off….I am trying.

http://www.cbc.ca/documentaries/natureofthings/

Hugs,

April

PS. Top photo is Vampyra (of Ed Wood fame), then the original Morticia, Carolyn Jones, she also played the bad girl in King Creole with Elvis and finally a safe for work picture of the beautiful Bettie Page.

Drab or Male Drag

Meeting in the city today, so this has to be a quickie. The city means a suit and tie. My job is usually casual dress but I used to work for a multinational and wore a suit everyday. I actually liked that, a suit being the closest men can come to any sartorial elegance.

I put on the dark blue pinstripe, crisp white shirt and blue and gold tie and stared at myself in the mirror. A somewhat unfamiliar person looked back, my longer hair was at odds with how I usually appeared when formally dressed, the suit did not seem to hang as well, I have lost weight.

There was also something about the eyes and the face, the woman inside was starting to shine through after five or so months on hormones. Wishful thinking, perhaps but I am sure I could perceive some subtle changes.

Male drag? I hope no one reads me?

Hugs,

April

CLICK

Things have begun to click into place, early on in this blog I wrote about a new feeling of confidence in my female self. I indentified this confidence as an important milestone in my transition.

The new confidence has allowed me to tell more people about the real me and most importantly to finally tell my father.

Just like that another mental piece of the puzzle has clicked into place. The new cog in the machine is the realization that I am really going to do it. The realization that in the not too distant future I will live full time as a woman that I will have surgery, that the way I experience the world and how people see me will change forever.

I have brief glimpses of that future once a week when I can get out for a precious few hours. Womanhood as seen through a scanner darkly, yes I am scared. I am afraid I don’t have the mental strength, the force of will to achieve my goals. I am afraid I will destroy what I value most in my current life.

But I keep moving forward; one foot after another…it is all we can do.

Transition is no longer a matter of if but of when. A lifetime’s unspoken desire realized, I can’t wait. I am excited, I tell myself that I can’t believe I am actually doing it and happiness courses through my body.

Hugs,

April

Baby You Can Drive My Car

Greetings, thanks for coming back, sorry I missed Friday I had a post all a ready to go but just ran out of time!

Friday was a big day, I was to see my therapist presenting as April 100%. Obviously I could not leave work dressed, well I could but it would have been my last day!

The session went well but I don’t think I was feeling completely myself (April that is) He kept intruding. I think I was nervous being seen by my therapist as April for the first time and as I just left work I was having trouble shaking off all my job worries and concerns.

Later I was able to go for coffee with a friend (still as April of course). I had the privilege of being a passenger in my own car. I let my male friend drive and open my door for me. I could get used to that, so happy I could purr, stretched out in the leather seat, heels and short skirt.

Pleased with my confidence as I was able to relax in a busy coffee shop, SO asked an interesting question, was I more at ease because I was with a man? Hmmm

Drove home in the Mark IV with the Black Angels on the stereo feeling like a pretty cool chick, no raising the power windows when pulling up to another car at the stoplight tonight. I did chicken out a bit on the way home. I had to desperately use the washroom; I drove into a Tim Horton’s but a plethora of teenagers made me change my mind. Instead I found a gas station/convenience store, don’t think the attendant clocked me. I gave him a nice smile and a thank you as I left.

I didn’t think I could get out on the weekend but my SO got home early and I was able to get ready at the last minute and make it too an LGBT dance at a local pub. I had a cute LBD I had been dying to wear. I did my nails bright red and wore my “Black Candy” heels. Even better I was able to meet my girlfriends, Natasha and Ashley there, it is unfortunately a rare occasion when all three of us can synch our schedules.

The place was really hopping (had to line up to get in!) and as we were the only Trans girls there we were the source of some attention and interest. I was totally self conscious at first but I eventually made it to the dance floor for some seriously retro disco tunes. Too bad I missed them playing the Ramones. Closed the place down leaving around 2:30 AM.

Sunday spent most of the day as April, cleaning, helping with school projects and making dinner.

Reluctantly remove my nail polish this morning in preparation for another work week. I am so looking forward to the day when a little red nail polish won’t be an issue…

Hugs,

April

PS. Here is what I have been listening to all weekend, Bloodhounds on My Trail by the Black Angels. Cooly hypnotic.

Jebus...That Thing is Long

No not what you think!

I took the children to school this morning. As I was backing out of the parking lot in my lowered 76 Lincoln Mark IV. One of the moms not realizing I had the windows down uttered the above quote and I just knew I had to use it for the title of today’s post.

I am not sure if her exclamation was spoken in amazement, horror or admiration. So what does this have to do with being Trans….not much actually. However, I often take the children to school and it is hard not to succumb to dysphoria as I admire all the moms, whether dressed for the office in skirts and heels or just casual jeans and a t shirt.

Still presenting as male I am effectively segregated from their conversation, I long to be one of the girls. I want to tell them that I am one of you but of course I cannot.

When I transition I will not leave and start anew, I have children and responsibilities. It is inevitable that most of the people you see me will know who I used to be. Will I be included when I take the children to school as April…it should make for some interesting conversation on the playground before the bell rings.

Sunny day must be improving my mood, also heard that some progress has been made on my Jaguar XJS wiring harness (it has a Chevy V8) so that is good news. The Corvette powered Jag strikes me as a real April kind of car….we all need a little under hood conversion right?

Last night I washed the Lincoln and sealed up a leaky gasket around the steering column that was letting in copious amounts of hot air from the custom built 460. Then finally able to shed horrid guy clothes for girl jeans bra and top to watch TV and fold laundry...my I lead an exciting life.

By the way Jebus…it’s a Simpson’s thing
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=jebus

Hugs,

April

Am I A Woman?

My head starts to spin sometimes when I read transgendered theory, not just the scholarly works but also the insights of those of us so "afflicted”.

I used to go for long walks and debate endlessly in my mind whether I was really Trans or just fooling myself. I would return home physically and mentally exhausted.

I am past that stage now and am confident in my decision to transition. However, does that mean I was always a woman in the wrong body?

I can’t say that I always felt like a woman, really what benchmark would I use? I just knew that I was different and did not have the same ease amongst those of my own physical gender as did my contemporaries.

I had few if any male friends and preferred to hang out with the girls at university. I used to think that my lack of male bonding was due to the fact few guys shared my eclectic interests (no I am not talking about a love of shoes.)

So am I a woman, right now I don’t know. I wish I could answer in the affirmative but I feel trapped in a no man’s land between genders. I know I long to leave this purgatory and become the woman I am meant to be.

The process has started and I know I will make it

Hugs,

April

April’s Automotive MissAdventures (a continuing series)

Being thoroughly fed up with the Toronado’s leaky sun roof and stripped interior, I drove her home from work then parked her under cover for the rest of the week and will hopefully have some time to delve further into the mysteries of GM’s and ASC (American Sunroof Corp.) astroroof design.

My SO and a neighbor pushed the carburetor free 72 Mark IV out of the driveway so I could move the Corvette. The Vette was washed (it was of course dark by now) and driven over to my mothers for winter storage (thanks mom!). From mom’s I retrieved the 1976 Lincoln Mark IV which will hopefully serve daily driver duties until she goes into the shop for some tranny work…don’t get excited that means transmission.

The 76 Mark ran well though she is a pig on gas, single digits compared with the Toro’s 20mpg. A couple of idiosyncrasies to fix including a vacuum headlight switch that likes to fail on a regular basis. Her most glaring shortcoming is a terrible paint job that is beginning to chip and peel, no doubt to an earlier life spent outside in the hot Florida sun. If the Mark is to serve this winter the twenty inch rims will have to come off for the original 15’s.

Bottom line nice to have a car with an interior again!

Told Dad

I had lunch with my father on Friday and told him about how depressed I had been. My father called on Saturday and Sunday showing concern. I was working Sunday, filming at the race track. I told him that I would meet him at 10:00PM at his house.

I was not planning on telling him until much later in the transition process but I felt that I needed to tell him now and that the time was right, sometimes you have to follow your instincts. I was incredibly nervous and so scared it was almost physically impossible to get the words out.

My father is also an Anglican Minister (Episcopalian in the USA), his second career. It helped somewhat to think of him in his role as a minister hearing a confession rather than my father. I told him I am Transgendered, however he was not sure of the term, I explained what it meant and he was surprised. As a minister he did not have any real experience with Trans people but the Anglican church is open to gay community. It does turn out that he knew one M2F, an older woman who had passed away two years ago. She had fought in Burma in WWII and transitioned in the early seventies. He had thought quite highly of her.

I told him everything about the hormones, plans for surgery, what my real name is, I even showed him a couple of photos. He took everything quite calmly and asked intelligent and respectful questions. He told me that I had nothing to be ashamed or guilty about and that I am as God made me. He is still my dad so I held it together and did not cry but came very close. He even suggested that once my transition is "complete" that they have a celebration at the church. He was sorry what what I had gone through as a child and that I could not share my feelings earlier on.

I am so relived I was dreading having to tell him, we have not always had a close relationship and I went expecting the worst. I am really surprised but incredibly happy at his reaction to the news. I had a tough weekend dealing with some depression but feel a new purpose this morning.

Hugs,

April

Crappy Car Stuff:

In case you are interested in my automotive adventures. Just had time this morning to drop into an auto glass place, basically they washed their hands of the Toronado, too old too complex. I am trying to locate a terrible sun roof leak, I mean massive. I had the entire interior gutted and this is my daily driver! Feel silly driving around in an empty car with the headliner temporarily taped into place.

Some suggestions on where to look next, means more disassembly and that means car may have to be off the road for a time. As usual up to me to fix.

Getting desperate for a daily driver, Don’t want to push my Eldorado project as it is still a bit of an unknown, think best bet will be to fix trans issue on 76 Lincoln Mark IV as the car is in very good overall mechanical condition. Too bad the paint job is so bad.

Sent the carb for the 1972 Mark in for professional repair, bad news was that it kept leaking but I think I narrowed down the problem to the carb. The 72 is scheduled for storage as it is too delicate for winter duty.

Argh driving me to distraction…..with everything else going on I really don't need all these car problems. I need to save my time and energy for family and transition. Really who needs a double digit collection of 19 ft long cars?

Precious Hours

Ah the weekend, she approaches with endless promise. Family, a fleet of less than perfect “classic” cars and a house to clean does tend to eat up any down time.

True I have been able to dress in a more feminine fashion at home but it is hardly 100% April or for much time. The children have dance class, swimming and there are always chores to do outside. I am not quite ready for the neighbors to meet April.

My slice of suburbia is a real Peyton Place where no secret can remain hidden for long. As soon as one person knows he is planning to become a she the entire street will know about me….as they say, there goes the neighborhood.

Still I am lucky enough to get out once a week for coffee or drinks (mostly coffee, I am not that kind of girl) with a few close friends.

So much planning, preparation and stealth goes into these few precious hours I can be myself. Before I know it the evening is over and like Cinderella I must return to the drab male world for another week. I look ahead to living full time as a woman otherwise I would go mad.

But for a few hours I can be me and the joy is sometimes overwhelming and sometimes a quiet contentment. It is during these precious hours that the guilt and shame are vanquished and depression blotted out by a radiant soul.

This post is dedicated to all my sisters and brothers waiting for the weekend.

Hugs,

April

Hiding the Better Angels of Our Nature

Being Trans means that you are basically living in stealth all the time. Trying to be a man when inside you really are female. Or visa versa of course. Does being female but having to live as man mean I am in stealth mode?

Trans means never doing anything to bring attention to our true selves. To avoid at all costs any hint that we have female characteristics or tendencies.

The mundane becomes torture, I used to avoid shopping malls and still do when in drab. The predominantly female oriented shops caused terrible dysphoria and before I came out to my SO I was afraid my longing sideways glances at the store windows and a life denied would instantly give me away.

I work in a very male environment and have to be a typical bloke (as our English cousins say), laughing at the sexist jokes and mean spirited humor. Inside I recoil in disgust longing instead to be one of the girls.

Being Trans means always feeling apart from our co-workers and society at large, hiding our true selves, playing our cards close to our chest. Never showing the best of ourselves to our loved ones and friends. Hiding the better angels of our nature.

Cracks are appearing in my male persona, my hair is longer, and I wear it differently. Can my co-workers sense anything; do they notice the lack of facial and arm hair? The weight loss, the depression? Perhaps I am paranoid but I think they suspect something they just don’t know what. I know my co-workers already consider me “different”. I guess my eventual transition (not in this job LOL) will not be a total surprise. They will be able to say, “I knew there something wrong with him (her)”.

Extra Bonus Bitch Session:
Sometimes day to day life makes all the Trans issues doubly hard to deal with, work, car problems, home repairs sigh.

Blog absence yesterday was due to some on location filming for work. Managed to find an hour last night while family was out to work on my Lincoln Continental. A little progress on the Mark IV, no more flooding carb but odd exhaust note and lumpy idle remain.

One step forward two back, the family "truckster", Chrysler Town & Country is having mysterious drive train maladies…argh. SO is taking the big white mini-van (is that an oxymoron) to the garage today for a diagnosis.

Have to do more filming on Sunday so I miss the big British car show they have here every year. Although most of my cars come from Detroit I have a soft spot for cars from the old country.

Ok bitch session over. Here is something completely different as a palate cleaner and reward for listening to me whine:

Evelyne Courtois` singing a French version of Sha La La La Lee.




Hugs,

April

The Power of Song

I didn’t come to a love of music until my late teens after most of my contemporaries had already firmly established their musical tastes and were spending lots on albums and cassettes (wow dating myself).



I was searching for a sound but commercial radio and pre-internet media was still a mainstream wasteland. It was not a until I heard an obscure track from Jerry Lee Lewis, Ubangi Stomp, better known by Warren Smith both on the SUN label. Talk about a weird song to change ones life but there you go.



The DJ came on and said that was rockabilly, I now had a name for what I loved. Now you can hear the most obscure and rarest rockabilly 45’s with the click of a mouse. Back then I searched through dusty used record stores for 45s and bought high priced European imports.



Rockabilly has a large contemporary following and has even evolved into a “lifestyle”. Back in the day (geez I sound like grandpa Simpson) it was totally below the radar and being a fan was about as popular as being trans. Please note that the above paragraph does not apply to the UK where they have had a wide spread Teddy Boy/ Rockabilly sub culture since the fifties.



No musical talent myself, my brother is a different story (a great guitarist) but I did have my own radio show at university to propagandize for my eclectic taste in music.



I use rockabilly pretty loosely, I love early country, fifties gospel, sixties garage punk, French girl groups, surf and anything that has that wild rockabilly and innocence of early rock and roll.



I mentioned in n earlier post that I have been wrestling with depression, sometimes we forget how powerful music can be to move the soul. Last weekend I was able to fight of the blues with some new rockin’ tunes. My current favorite band is the Raveonettes, here are two tracks that have raised my spirits and have been keeping me dancing around the living room for the past couple of days.



By the way, Sharin Foo the female part of this Danish duo is very pretty and shows off some great retro dresses. I also love her straight blond hair.



So do yourself a favor, break out your favorite track and dance and sing out loud you will feel better.



Hugs,



April

Random Thoughts from Suburbia

Saturday September 11th, flew Old Glory from my house. It looked so beautiful hanging there the red white and blue against the newly laid sod.

I have tried to make this a tradition; I still feel the terrible pain of that day. No one I knew died that day, one employee of the national bank I used to work for was killed. All Toronto came to a halt and the streets were filled with people trying to get home as the subways were closed.

I stayed late at my desk and left an empty business district at the end of the day to journey home to a waiting family. So many would wait in vain…

Despite being English by birth and having lived in Canada most of my life in my heart I am an American. My family’s first steps in the New World were through New York, like generations of immigrants before (but not Ellis Island which closed in 1954).

I majored in American history at university, the cars, the music I love they are all a product of the amazing democratic experiment across the 49 parallel. The freedom and liberty we enjoy would be impossible with her existence.

A bit of a manic weekend. Saturday saw a return of depression, trouble with my Lincoln Mark IV carburetor, rebuilt it but no joy. Sent me into a bit of a tail spin, will try again this evening.
Went out with my girl friend Marissa last night for coffee, drove a new Mitsubishi Evo press car. Still on such a high, it sooooo good to be out, happy with the photos too! We talked about my progress and for a minute I felt I was in the fast lane. Getting out so builds one's confidence, I wish I could do it more.

Feeling positive hope I can make it last!

My birthday today. My oldest gave me a home made card that said that my present was that she was renaming the character in her "novel" she is writing April, after me! Yes, I was very moved! Best present ever!

Hugs,

April

The Answer in Our Hearts

I was moved by Karen’s recent post on GID diagnosis and have thought a lot about my own experience. (http://shoutingdownthewell.blogspot.com/2010/09/crushed.html)

In our happy Dominion, well the province of Ontario at least the gateway to SRS is through the Center for Addiction & Mental Health. I had initially made an appointment to determine if I really was transgendered. My friend Marissa suggested that I contact CAMH, she could tell.

The waiting list was long at least six months. I was devastated when my initial appointment was cancelled and I had to wait almost another four months to see a doctor for my initial interview and diagnosis.

In retrospect the delay allowed me to make up my own mind and to confidently tell the doctors that I wanted to be a woman and that I would be able to successfully transition. A lot has been written about CAMH locally but my experience was positive.

I knew the diagnosis I wanted and was aware that I would be tempted to subconsciously spin the answers to any questions to reinforce the desired diagnosis. Yes I did get the GID diagnosis I wanted, however then they were at pains to tell me that the next steps were entirely up to me. Transition, don’t transition we don’t care. If you want to proceed change your name and go full time, come and see us again in six months…so long and thanks for all the fish.

It has been challenge, finding a new doctor, starting hormones, seeking out therapist, coming out to friends and loved ones. A difficult road but I keep moving forward because I want to.

When I first contacted CAMH I was still wracked by guilt and shame and I felt that if I had a medical diagnosis I could say, look I am not just some crazy person. The true answer is in our hearts. I spent many nights walking and thinking until I was exhausted in body and spirit. A terrible struggle that saw me go back and forth between continuing to fight the “good” fight and to “give in” to transition.

I think I always knew what the final decision would be and that in the end it is the right
one.

Thinking of you Karen.


Hugs,

April

I know the ad is hard to read but above the smoking woman it says, "Your T-Zone Will Tell You" indeed!

Daddy You Look Pretty

In my prior post I clearly demonstrated how t-girls can be whiney bitches, actually I am a bit old to be called a girl but whiney bitch still applies.

A bit of a roller coaster weekend emotionally. Saturday was really tough but I had a much better Sunday and Monday.

Significant Developments?

I had already told the children about me but they had not seen me as April. They know I am Trans and that I will eventually transition to become a woman. The oldest that is eleven going on thirty understands more and therefore has the most trouble dealing with the changes. That is not to say she hasn't been supremely understanding and caring, she just does not want to loose her dad.

On Sunday I asked the oldest if she would like to see one of my favorite photos of April. She did and was quite surprised at how I looked. The other two girls never wanting to be left out of what their older sister is doing muscled in for a quick peak.

“Daddy you look pretty” was the oldest's first response. Wow, are you sure your mother didn’t pay you to say that! I was very moved. The seven year old asked who the photos were of and did a classic sit com double take when I said me.

I got dressed up in anticipation of going out Sunday evening and the younger two saw me as 90% April, full makeup, jewelry, perfume etc, just in jeans and runners, no wig but my new feminine hair cut. I don’t think the oldest was quite ready.

Can you believe I spent all day Monday as well, mostly as April, jeans, pink t-shirt (bra), female glasses and my long painted nails. Made breakfast and lunch for the children and cleaned the house. Only a short return to drab to change the fuel pump on the Mark IV, no nails were broken just in case you were wondering.

Last night my SO had a bridal shower to go to (borrowed a pair of my pantyhose ;) Later she told me all about it and we discussed the merits of various shoes in our collection....I do miss the husband and wife connection but I love being one of the girls. I guess we are more girlfriends?

Since she was at the shower I made dinner, washed up and got the children to bed...as April, well my favorite jeans, lavender blouse, a bra for the "little" girls and an apron. Shades of Betty Draper again.

I am finding it hard to articulate exactly what I am feeling; I am comfortable being out/being April to my children ...This is a true milestone. April is starting to come into her own, taking the wheel so to speak, no longer the quiet but ever present back seat driver (heck for a while she was firmly locked in the trunk). Excited, happy yes but a little scared. The old male facade, which also had a life of his own, is fading. The male facade meant safety, acceptance and anonymity all of which will be lost. April will have to be strong and confident woman.

Hugs,

April

Black Dogs on my Trail

First of all sorry for the radio silence the last few days, a busy weekend and a holiday Monday followed by an off site meeting all day Tuesday meant no time to properly compose my thoughts.

Saturday was a complete write off; the black dogs of depression had run me down and left me pretty well mauled. I am not a very outgoing personality and had never experienced serious depression until I stated to deal with being transgendered. It has been the depression (that and all the damn cars) that drive a wedge between my SO and I, more so than even being Trans.

I am seeing a therapist and it helps immeasurably but even so the black dog can sneak up on you at any time. "Black Dog" was what Winston Churchill called his depression, a fitting image I think.

Saturday was supposed to be a milestone, my first female haircut at a beauty salon. Up early to make my 8:30 AM appointment, I was giddy with anticipation. I arrived early at the mall and impatiently waited for the salon to open. Unfortunately the recommended hairdresser’s first language was not English forcing me to explain about five times that I was Trans and wanted a female haircut. Any louder and I may as well have announced my Gender Identity Disorder over the mall's public address system! She kept giving me male hair style books to look through until I pulled out a picture of April and showed her who I really am. I think she finally understood and she did the best she could with my long for me but relatively short male hair.

To be fair she did a good job with what she had to work with and I ended up with a gender neutral haircut that will allow me to continue to grow out my natural hair. On the return home my wife was not too impressed with the styling and subconsciously I was also unhappy with the process. For a MTF the idea of a trip to the salon is a fantasized experience and mine did not live up to my high expectations. Coupled with my SO's apparent disapproval I quickly fell into depression. It is a vicious cycle, feeling bad about something as simple as a hair cut or car problems colors your thought process and soon you are questioning your ability to pass, transition or even your self worth. The more depressed I got the more my SO lost patience with me making me even sadder at angering my greatest supporter.

Depressions living dead embrace had me all the rest of the day. All I wanted to do was to lie down and feel sorry for myself. All hope and joy had gone replaced with a vast emptiness that makes ending your life seem like the right thing to do. I took the children out bike riding, went to the store but I was only going through the motions an emotional zombie.

Roller coaster emotions seem to be the lot of the Trans person. We experience such great joy and happiness when we can be ourselves and such terrible lows when we feel that opportunity is being taken away from us.

Sunday and Monday were much better and I have some good news to report but I will tell you about that tomorrow.

Tuesday was back to school for the children and back to work for me. My job can be rather thankless at times and my boss quite a handful, after a tough day I felt that the black dogs were nipping at my heels again. In the morning at the school I look around at all the moms and later in the grocery store at all the GG's and I felt that I could never be one of them, to look that good, that natural, who was I kidding. However this time I was able to shake off my phantom pursuers, perhaps I just didn't have the energy to beat up on myself anymore this week?

I forced myself to go for my nightly walk/exercise as it was a beautiful warm late summer evening. Leaving the iPod behind I strolled with my own thoughts and resolved not to give up but to press on with transition, really what choice do I have? As Winston said, “If you are going through hell, keep going”....he knew what he was talking about.

See you tomorrow,

April

An Experiment

For the MTF Trans person hair is so incredibly important. It instantly identifies you as male or female. The right wig can instantly transform.

I still have my hair so I guess I am lucky but I have a typical male hair line, tall forehead and widow’s peak. Also my hair is amazingly fine and straight. I think I will be able to grow my own hair once I transition but will still need the scalp advanced surgically to look feminine.

A busy work schedule and a favorite barber who is in another town has meant that my current hair is well beyond its male best before date. In fact it is the longest it has ever been. I guess I could have got my hair cut but subconsciously I didn’t really want to.

I usually wore it in an Elvis style duck tail having too use much gel and hair spray to keep my pin straight hair defying gravity. I have worn variations of this style for twenty years or so (ZOMG!). Occasionally getting a flat top in the summer months. Time for a change don’t you think.

The plan or experiment is to see if I can have my hair styled for a feminine look, preferably one that downplays my forehead and can be combed in a male manner for work. That is not too much to ask is it!

I have an appointment with a stylist at a beauty salon early tomorrow morning. She was recommended by a friend. I will of course have to explain the “experiment” to her and that means telling her about me. “You don’t know me but I am Trans,” should be an interesting morning.

And if it all goes south it is all back to short back and sides…

Hugs,

April

A Trans Movie?

The Corpse Bride

The 2005 film by Tim Burton really caught my attention when it was first released. I bought the DVD, the CD soundtrack and even a figurine or is it action figure of the bride (Emily).

For a few months in my pre-out days I watched the film and listened to the music over and over again. Why so obsessed? Just a romantic story with a nice gothic feel or was it something deeper.

I suspect there is something Trans about this movie but I cannot put my finger on it. I have surfed around the net to see if anyone else shared my suspicions but I have never found a review or random comment that mentions transgender themes.

The story is based on an old Jewish tale of a murdered bride awakened by inadvertent vows, recast in Victorian England, all be it an Edward Gorey / Charles Addams sort of olde England.

Film critic Roger Ebert wrote that the film is not a “macabre horror story as the title suggests” calling it a “sweet and visually lovely tale of love lost”. I could not agree more. If you have not seen The Corpse Bride, go buy or rent it right away.

Now, it should be remembered that Tim Burton is the same director who brought us the bio pic Ed Wood, the infamous grade Z mogul who made the movie Glen or Glenda or I Changed My Sex. Poor Ed had a more than passing familiarity with his subject matter in this case.

Just what strikes me as Trans, is it that the groom Victor falls in love with Emily (the eponymous bride) even though she is not a “real” woman?

Emily’s joy at life and love regained, especially evident in the beautiful scene where she dances in the moonlight reminds me of the joy I and I am sure many of you feel when we can be our true selves.

I hope that readers will be kind enough to share their own perspectives on the film. Is there a Trans theme or am I delusional?

Hugs,

April

Words Have Meaning and Names Have Power

April Ashley

I did not struggle or fret over my name, it just came to me from out of the ether of my own experience. I would say a gift from the universe if I wanted to risk sounding like some new age hippie.

I was attempting to sign up for the crossdressers.com forum, my first tentative step in reaching out to the wider trans world beyond my closet.

I needed a female name, something close to my given male name but not a feminine version of it. Suddenly….APRIL…that was it. I had been friends with an April at my old job, actually that was her last name. Great, feminine but not too cutesy, I now had my forum name.

But sometimes things like a name take on a life of their own. April was supposed to be just a place holder, an internet nom de plume. When I came out to my spouse, she asked did “she” have a name, why yes April. When I first ventured out into the real world, it was April who took that first high heeled step. When I went to get my diagnosis of GID, it was April who walked confidently into the doctors office. It is the name my new friends call me and the name I hope that old ones and family will one day embrace too.

I am becoming April and I have no regrets.

It was only later that I realized that April was the name of the first British person to have SRS. (Not sure if Roberta Cowell should also get this honor) . I am sure I must have heard her name from my days at school in the UK or stumbled upon a reference to her in my earlier pre-web surreptitious research.

Not a middle aged transitioner like myself April Ashley became a woman at age 25. She has had and continues to have an amazing life that I cannot do justice to in a mere paragraph.

Instead follow the link below to read her biography, the entire work is on line and free to read. Warning, make sure you have a couple of hours spare! Her story would make a great movie.

http://www.antijen.org/Aprilv1/

See a more recent BBC interview here:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/local/london/hi/people_and_places/newsid_8383000/8383720.stm

“you can be who you want to be…but do it with joy…and be terribly brave.”

So retroactively I am claiming that April Ashley is my namesake, I hope she does not mind.

Hugs,

April (the other one)