It hurts…


I know it’s not cool for me to express here what I have so far been unable to say in person.

I know that everyone I love has their own journey to accepting the truth of what I have revealed about myself and that it is THEIR journey not mine.

It IS important to my identity and sense of self worth that I be tolerant and understanding.

I DO want to give those I love a ‘bye’ on things I won’t tolerate from strangers.

I DO understand that habit changes take time and are disconcerting.

I KNOW that TO YOU, who have not lived with my fear and shame and guilt, this announcement of my inner (and now outer) womanhood is something new and sudden.

But it still hurts.

It hurts when you call me by anything other than my new self assigned first name.

It hurts when you get my pronouns wrong in my presence.

It hurts when you try to explain me away:

I’m not trying to ‘reinvent myself so I can leave my baggage behind’ I tried that in college when I changed my nickname to <middle name redacted>. I tried it again by becoming Private <last name redacted> in the Army.

I’m not suffering from hormone problems due to BPH and or low Testosterone.

I’m not engaging in a hobby or fad or kink.

Yes you CAN know that you were a woman at heart before any age threshold YOU think is ‘normal’.

It hurts when you attempt to deny my truth… my identity.


It hurts, It Hurts, IT HURTS.

I hate my voice…


I can live with falsies and shapewear and having to shave my face to avoid looking like the incredible bearded lady.

I can tolerate the discomfort that ladies’ underwear inflicts on my certain ‘Je ne sais quois’.

With the right dress I can see a lady in the mirror.


But my voice offends me every time I open my mouth (those who know me will realize that’s quite often). It’s loud, it’s deep, it carries, it doesn’t sound feminine at all.  there are no hormones and no, safe, surgeries that will fix it. the only fix is training, expensive, long, WAITLISTED training.

The word waitlist is becoming all too familiar with me.

so. yeah. I hate my voice. Just thought I’d say.