Wow! Things have just got decidedly real in my little world as a transgender ballet dancer.
So, this is the third post of my trilogy today. I was going to post just one – but I can really prattle on, so thought I’d better “break it down”, to quote MC Hammer. As you do.
No posts for seven weeks and then you get two at once. What’s that about buses? So, ballet. As I said in my last post, I desperately wanted to continue with it – and to get better at it. But I hated feeling out of my depth.
I’m 42, about to begin gender hormone therapy and have started ballet. So no mid-life crisis at all then.
Oh God, I’ve just had a nightmare. To begin with, I popped over to the big city for my fourth laser treatment. This part wasn’t the nightmare!
Soooo, last night I paid my first visit to a transgender support group. It’s not my first-ever visit to a transgender group, though. About 20 years, I attended a single meeting of Nottingham Chameleons.
Anyone who’s ever seen Rocky Horror – either on stage or screen – will know that line, sung by the gorgeous Little Nell as Columbia.
Just a short post today. As I said before, I consider myself to be non-binary. By that, I mean I’m OK with being male – I have no desire for SRS – but I also have a strong feminine side.
So it begins. After years of dabbling with herbal estrogen, progesterone cream and breast pumps, I’ve finally decided to do this properly.
OK, that’s not my real name. It’s highly unlikely that I’ll ever reveal my real name on here. As for facial photos, forget it. Why? Well, I’m kind of shy. I have a secret – a really big one – and I don’t want just anyone to know.