Skip to main content

18th February - not having the conversation but at least we are talking

Lately, my wife and I have been talking more than we have in a long time and being more open about our own opinions than we have been used to do. 

Not so open that I have shared all my own secrets about being trans, but it’s still good and puts us into a better place for when I ever am ready to do that. 

We talk a lot about feminism and women’s rights and the wrongs of male behaviour and negative masculinity. We are both on the same page really and I think she does now accept at least that I am not one of those men and nor do I represent men as a whole. 

We spent some time with her friends and one of them has found many (like a lot!) of half siblings from her biological father who seems to have spread his wild oats most liberally. Driving back we were talking about that behaviour and I observed that all men are bastards, to which she touched my hand and said not all. Which actually is the nicest thing she has said to me in a while! 

On the one hand I’m obviously pleased that she’s accepted that I’m not the spokesperson of the patriarchy, which is certainly how I have felt in some of the conversations we’ve had, but on the other hand, I don’t like being thought of as a man of any kind. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

23 Sep 2025 - a handbag?

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...

27 May 26 - does my brain actually have a “girl mode”?

As I keep reflecting on my night out as Nicola last week there are a lot of questions and ideas that are swirling around in my head.  One is, whether my brain has a “girl mode”, because I felt so different and behaved in ways that were unfamiliar to me.  The really distinct difference in how I felt this time was that I didn’t feel like I was a man in a dress at all, I just felt like me. I remember thinking that this is what it is like to be “inhabiting womanhood”. Evidently I have ridiculously pretentious notions after a few drinks, but it was what I was feeling. This is what it is like to actually be a woman. Less pretentious.  An odd thing, but one which does make me wonder if my brain has some kind of “switch”, is that I looked at women differently. I am exclusively attracted to women and I am attracted to boobs and bums as much as the next man (cringe at associating with being a man). I know it is impolite to stare at a woman’s chest, and I make a conscious effort no...

21 May 2026 - a night out

Having a night on my own in London, I wanted to go out presenting female and get some more “real life experience”.  I had drinks and dinner with some colleagues early evening and to be honest had already had too much wine before I went out later by myself. This probably helped my confidence, although not my coordination with nail polish and mascara, which were a bit slapdash to say the least.  I remember last year getting in a lift in the hotel in a dress ready to go out, and being self conscious of people staring at me. This time, didn’t give it a thought. Likewise going into the underground and being on the train with other people. I didn’t notice if anyone looked at me and nor did I care. I was just me being me and wearing a skirt didn’t feel like a Thing, I wasn’t conscious of my clothes at all.  Similarly walking through a busy Soho to the bar, I just felt like I normally do walking around town.  Got to She Soho. Amazingly the bouncer asked me for ID. I’m 51...