Maiden’s Journey

Now that shorts season is behind us, and my legs will be hidden by trousers for the next six months, I am free to shave my legs.  I had a brief window of opportunity when my wife was out to get the clippers out and remove the long hair from my legs, chest and tummy. Unfortunately I can’t reach my back to do that, but can do my shoulders at least. And when I say clippers, I mean the dog grooming clippers, which I have found to be the best thing for clearing leg and body hair growth. Lucky I never balded the dog, because they’re pretty effective.  Seeing myself hairless is lovely. My legs go from male to female instantly and I love it. Hair definitely triggers some dysphoria. It will be easier to wear tights when I next get the chance to go out dressed female. Plus, tights will feel nicer to wear too.  Looking at myself in the mirror wearing a crop top and matching knickers with no body hair and shaven legs, I felt so much more feminine. If it weren’t for the unsightly shap...

With the help of my padded bra and padded shorts, I am able to give the illusion of some female curves or to put it another way, “tits and ass”. Because they are just padding though, they don’t move like the real thing, there’s no jiggle or squish.  I was traveling in London today and so was surrounded by many more women than I would normally see, which has made me feel more envious of what I don’t have.  There was a woman on the train wearing a black stretchy ribbed dress that is similar in shape and style to one I have. Her hips and waist and the shape of her bottom were so very feminine. I would love to have a shape like hers. Maybe by taking feminising hormones, I would be able to have a more rounded and feminine bottom, although I can’t have the hips as that is fixed by my bone structure.  There was another woman at the station wearing leggings and again, I was envious of the shape of her thighs, her round bottom and the curve of her tummy. Through feminisation I cou...

I have not been out presenting female in public for about six months which is a long time.   The last time was my trip to London when I went out to the bar and dinner, which felt great, and to breakfast in the hotel which was less successful. At that time, I felt confident and like I could do this.   Following my wife catching me out with some of my underwear, I cut my hair, put away my clothes and didn’t do anything for a while. It seems my confidence got lost in that too, because when I started thinking about going out dressed again, I felt really nervous about it.  Probably doesn’t help that the anti-trans lobby had successes during this time and it feels a less safe thing to be doing now than it did six months ago.  Whatever the reason, I was pretty scared this time.  The biggest mental hurdle is around changing from male to female clothing, as I have to leave the office and arrive at the mall in male clothing, then be back in male clothing to go home so...

I feel like I have lost sight of who I am.  Up until my wife caught me out with my female underwear, I thought I knew who I was and where I was heading.  I had the official diagnosis of gender incongruence and dysphoria and a referral for feminising hormone replacement therapy. I had been wearing female underwear full time for three months, was shaving and waxing my leg and body hair, and sleeping in a nightdress every night. I had pushed the boundaries of being visible presenting female by going out in a dress to a lesbian bar and to a restaurant and even hotel breakfast. The latter was a bit uncomfortable but it felt like part of the journey and an important step so that I almost welcomed the stares and unsubtle comments.  So I knew who I was. I was Nicola. A transgender woman who was working towards coming out and beginning transition.  Then at the end of March my wife found some of my female underwear that I had forgotten to hide. This could have been the crucial...

I commented to a friend yesterday that I had once had a dream that I would run away to New Zealand to live as a woman.  This was when I was around seventeen and in the sixth form at school. I still had lots of confusion about who or what I was but had been secretly cross dressing and wishing I was a girl for five or six years by then.  I then saw a documentary on television called A Change of Sex, which followed the journey of a “transsexual” man who was undergoing a “sex change” to become a woman. These were new terms to me. I had heard of transvestism and there was an old transvestite in our part of town that everyone referred to as a “tranny” and my mum had explained when I was younger was a “very sad person with mental problems”. So my limited knowledge of gender non-conformity was that a man in a dress was sad, mental and an object of ridicule. I also had no idea that he had any options beyond wearing a dress and being a transvestite. Of course I liked to wear women’s clo...

I’m wearing a soft crop top and Brazilian knickers under my male clothes today and it’s the first time   I’ve done so since my wife found out about my underwear.   I did wear some knickers last weekend for a day, which was nice but this is the first time I have had the crop top too.  Considering that I was wearing the underwear full time and the crop tops every weekday evening and all weekends for the previous month, this has been a big gap.  I have really been craving the feeling of a bra or crop top. That stretchy tightness of the band around my chest and the straps over my shoulders. It is such a relief to have one on now.  Because I’m a bit scared about getting caught out again I have only worn the soft crop top as that is least visible under my clothes. The more structured crop top has bra straps which are a bit more noticeable so although I really want to wear that, it felt a bit too risky.  This is so rubbish that I have to hide who I really am ...

I’m wearing female underwear today for the first time in a month.  I feel more myself. It’s just more right for me.  I have also been using the loo seated again, which I do automatically when I am wearing female underwear.  It isn’t like I’m super aware of the knickers all the time, but it does feel different and when I do notice it, it feels nice.  Whether this is related to doing something a little bit feminine, or that I have just come out of a spell of depression, but I feel more optimistic today.  There are scenarios that I can imagine where I get to be Nicola. For the past month I have felt without hope on that front, so it is nice to feel that there could possibly be ways to be me.  Clearly my need to be a woman hasn’t gone away just because I have repressed it and taken no steps in that direction for the past month. Not that it was ever going to and I didn’t expect it to at all.  One of the thoughts that troubled me whilst I was repressing my w...

I have now not done anything feminine, worn anything feminine nor shaved any of my body or leg hair for three weeks now and I’m just getting more and more sad.  I have given up on the only thing that I hoped for and so now I have nothing.  What is the point of anything? This is hardly helped by the news.  I have been reading all the news coverage of the court ruling on the definition of a woman in the Equality Act and it is so very depressing.  Although the judges pointed out that trans women are still protected from discrimination, it is hard to see how that is going to be meaningful.  If there are only two categories provided, whether that is toilets, healthcare or societies, and trans women are excluded from the female category then it is a choice of nothing or having to be in men only spaces, clubs, etc.which is clearly intolerable and unsafe. So effectively then, trans women are excluded from all things.  This is so upsetting. 

We had a nice day out at a flower festival.  Something I am finding challenging now is being around a lot of women and girls. This place was crowded and flowers are more interesting to women than men generally so it did seem to be majority female. Seeing women now is making me sad. They have long hair that I don’t have, wear pretty clothes that I can’t wear, have voices that I can’t emulate and body shapes that I don’t have. They move differently and are natural among the flowers posing for photos with the blooms.  Everywhere I look there are reminders of what I am not. What I can’t be. What I can never have. And even if I did destroy every part of my life and go through all the pain of transition, I still wouldn’t be one of them. No one would be taking my picture crouched among the flowers because they thought me pretty. This could never happen. The most I could ever achieve is taking selfies alone whilst other people nudge their partners and point out the trans person. This ...