I was going to write this post last night, but, as I was somewhat under the influence of alcohol and very tired, it was probably a good job I didn't. It is somewhat linked to my transition, but it is something which, yesterday, really annoyed me. 

Transitioning has taught me one very valuable skill - Patience. You have to be very patient waiting for things to happen. Whether that be appointments to go to, funding to be in place, therapy to go to they all take time to materialise. Couple that with the very slow pace of change physically, patience is something I now have plenty of. 

This has now carried over into my work. I was recently advised that, due to the flat structure of my employer, the likelihood of me progressing up the chain are minimal. For years I have known this and for years this has been a major source of annoyance. However, over the past few years, give or take the odd 'issue' at work, which has now been dealt with, I have learned to take this issue in my stride. Patience. If I have little chance of progressing, I have to be the best I can be, so when that opportunity does arrive, I can be ready to go for it.

My life isn't perfect, far from it. But, if something is wrong or isn't going well, only I can change it. Only I can see what need to be done to improve things and move forward. I have learned not to just stand around moaning about things and saying nothing is ever going to change. Things happen in our lives which may or may not be right, but we have to dust ourselves off, put them down to experience and use that experience to move forward. People get too focused on events which have happened and they have no control over. 

These events still affect their lives long after they have happened. They get bogged down in them until they are all consuming. I'm guilty of it in the past. I also learned that I was wasting valuable time on something which I couldn't change and that wouldn't change. I was better off putting that time to something constructive and moving forward. The past is the past and it's something I cannot change. I can change my future though and I can do that by staying positive and being the best version of me that I can be. 

In essence, you have to be patient with life. Thins don't always happen overnight, but things can and will change. You have to make them happen. Focusing on the past is futile. Use that energy to make changes that will improve you. Those improvements will help you to move forward. Standing around moaning to others not only brings you down, but those around you. I have to walk away when people moan about their lot, but won't let go of the past or push themselves to improve their lot. When they pull others down with them with their negative views. It frustrates me, when I am trying to be positive, with everything I have and have had to put up with in the media and at work. 

Those of you who know me best, know how hard life has been for me and for me, I am immensely proud of where I am mentally at this point. The loneliness is hard, the persecution of transgender people in the media is hard and the general fear of any kind of abuse when out in public is a real and constant fear. However, I try to remain positive, upbeat and happy and with my work issues being sorted, I am the most positive I have been for a while. I try to spread a little positivity and make people smile where I can. I don't waste my time looking back on what if's. That's happened, that time has gone. I put my energy into my future. Some people around me need to do the same.

Here endeth the lesson.

What makes a woman, a woman? What makes a female, a female? Why are transgender people constantly having to justify their existence? Why should anyone have to justify their existence?
Questions. So many questions. My validity as a person is constantly being questioned. Not by my friends I hasten to add, but by certain sections of the public at large. My rights as a person are constantly being questioned by a small minority of bigoted people at the moment. The fact that I wasn't born with the right 'equipment' at birth, precludes me from ever being the true me. The real me. 

Well, they're right. I wasn't born with the right equipment. I was given the wrong equipment. Nature sometimes gets it wrong. The 'equipment' I have has always felt alien to me. Through the marvels of modern medicine, I can go some way to having the right 'equipment'. Hormones and surgery to be precise. However, it's not just having the right 'equipment', is it. Yes, I will have the physical appearance of a adult female, but it's also the feelings, thoughts and emotions that complete me as a woman. 

Growing up, I was always a little more emotional than others with the same 'equipment'. I wasn't into war games, football or the rough and tumble as was advocated by genetics and the public perception of how I should act. It never sat with me 100%. So, I just got on with it. Carried on growing up as I was. Never being truly happy with myself, but believing that that was it. This slightly weird and awkwardly shy person. When puberty hit and my body started to develop due to the hormones it was given, I would look at the opposite gender and wonder why my body wasn't developing like that. 

Then life events happened. Early 1990's. Family issues. That's when I found crossdressing. That's when these feelings that I had suddenly started to make sense. That difference in my brain and my heart as opposed to my physical appearance. Becoming the opposite to my actual life. I felt, well, happy. I felt right for those few short hours. Fast forward 20 years. Another life event. The suggestion, after a few hours of conversation that perhaps I should try crossdressing again. So I did. All those suppressed feelings and emotions came bubbling back to the surface and things started to make sense again. The differences, the wanting of my body to suddenly morph into the right one with the right 'equipment'.

The me that grew up was quiet and awkward because I wasn't my true self. My body presented itself to the world as the wrong person as the inside was having to portray itself as that person. The emotions, feelings and thoughts that I have now are very far removed from that person. I can show my emotions freely, I can think as I want to think and I can feel what I want to feel. No hiding, no acting. To me, this is a major part of me being me. It's not just about what 'equipment' I have, but what makes me tick. What I feel. How I act. What I want. 

It's the little things like dying my hair, crying at sad films, getting excited for weddings, wearing the clothes I've always wanted to, listening to the music I want to, using the right toilets and actually being me. Being transgender isn't a choice for me. It is me. It always has been me. Being born in the wrong body and now going through my transition makes me transgender, but it doesn't mean that I haven't always been a woman or female. I will always be a transgender woman or transgender female. No one is going to deny me my existence or question my validity. I am a human being, therefore I am valid. I exist. I am here. 

I want to thank everyone who has been on my transition journey with me and continues to support me. I have now been living full time for 2 years now and although there have been some very hard times lately, things are looking better. The end is in sight, but I still have a long way to go. Life isn't always easy and I have to constantly be on my guard when out, but I would never go back to my old life. The good far outweighs the bad. xxxx

Now, usually, my clothing consists of either my uniform, or jean shorts and a t shirt. However, in the last two weeks, I've had a funeral and a course where business dress was the dress code. An actual requirement to dress and look vaguely smart. Neat hair, make up and accessories. Not just getting dressed in my usual robotic way and slapping on some lippy and mascara. 

It's been a while since I've had to get dressed up and make more of an effort than usual. Not just for a night out either. Probably a wedding last year to be exact. To be honest, I'm a little out of practice on the make up front. I haven't worn a full face since June last year. Luckily, it is like riding a bike, without stabilisers, on an icy road, with a headwind...……..

I would have given a scarecrow a run for their money. Well, that's my opinion. It wasn't awful, but, not my best. I think this means that I need to go out more. More nights out. Probably. No, make that definitely. ( It won't happen as I am prone to procrastination and I am a home girl at heart). So, make up sorted. Now, the outfit. I do have a smart black skirt. M&S don't you know and a couple of smart blouses. My favourite top ever is my white flowery blouse from Wallis. Perfect. Put them together with my pair of low heeled shoes and the outfit is almost ready.

Finally, we have the accessories and the hair. Now, my hair is quite long now. Over three years of growth. After years of having really, really short hair, I love it. Although, I'm not very confident when it comes to styling it. It's either in a ponytail, clipped up or on the rare occasion, plaited. For the funeral, I thought I'd try something different. Nothing drastic or difficult, just different. I'd washed it the night before and plaited it, so, when I got up and took the plaits out, it had dried wavy. I decided to wear it down for the day. 

I changed the parting a little, took a bit from one side, tucked it behind my ear, used a flower clip to hold it back and there it was. Something different and something I could do without much difficulty.

Hair done, now the accessories. Not too OTT, but not too non descript. Once chosen and adorned, Voila! A vaguely smart woman was born. 

I stood and looked at myself in the mirror. Was that really me? Three years ago, I would have been in a suit and tie, short hair and looking totally out of place. Now, I felt, well, normal. I saw me in that mirror. The inside me was now the outside me. I know I say this a lot, but it's those quick snapshots of yourself in the mirror that make me realise that I am a woman, I 'pass' (a horrid phrase, but the best way I can describe the feeling) and that all that effort is worth it. Not just the effort on the day, but all the highs and lows of my transition. The hormones, the anguish, the knocks, the strain on my mental health. That one look in the mirror makes it all worth it. 

The same happened this week. Same outfit yesterday and different blouse today. Hair was up this time as had to be more business like. Another new situation to be in. I've been on work courses already during my transition, but never in business dress. Smart casual or smart is the usual dress code. (Yes, there is a difference between smart and business). Again, I caught a glance of myself in the mirror and felt the same sense of achievement again. 

I am happier in my body, more than ever before. I still compare myself to other women - lets face it, we all do. However, I know I'm never going to be, sexy, svelte or attractive, but I am who I am. A slightly overweight forty something year old woman who will probably end up with fifteen cats and a 10 bar a day chocolate habit. I have to be a realist. OK, maybe 15 bars a day and an addiction to cups of tea...…….

Yet again, certain media outlets and certain sections of society are trying to erase my existence. So, not only do I live in constant fear of abuse, I also have to read and watch whilst I am told I don't really exist or I'm just a man in a dress. I will never be a woman, I will always have male privilege and I want to push Cis women aside and attack them whenever I use 'their' facilities. So, basically, I'm a big fat liar who plays at dressing up.

Well, sorry to disappoint you. Admitting to myself that I was born in the wrong body has been a 25 year journey. A journey of, to be frank, absolute hell at times. The feeling of growing up in the wrong body and having to conform to that body, when really, your subconscious is telly you that something isn't right. The wanting to literally be someone else, to be free to be myself constantly eating away at you. Living a lie. 

Ever since I started my transition, I have felt freedom to be myself like never before. My life makes sense now. I feel right. From my head to my toes and everything else in between. I'm not a man in a dress; I am a woman. My body is starting to match the feelings my mind and heart have always felt. 
I have never felt I've had male privilege as it didn't resonate with me. I've always had to fight my corner and to be heard. I notice male privilege more now, so perhaps I was afforded it but never realised. 

When it comes to facilities, i.e. Toilets, there is one reason and one reason only that I use them. Newsflash! I need to go to the toilet. Nothing more, nothing less. Same as each and every one of you.
Changing rooms in shops. I want to try stuff on. I also eat, drink, sleep, cry, love and think just like every other human being. I am a human being first and foremost.

All of this 'discussion' about my existence is quite basically a load of crap. I am here, I exist, I am living my life, paying my bills, doing most of the things I want to do. Life is harder in some ways now and that is the price I'm having to pay for being true to myself. From the constant fear of abuse, the everyday onslaught of my right to exist, to finding that special someone to share my life with. My mental health has sustained enormous damage over the past year. I amaze myself that I'm still able to function most days. The temptation to shut off the world around me is huge given everything I have and I am dealing with. But I don't. I am stronger than the bullies, the populist and scaremongering media and the narrow minded sections of society. I am stronger than the people who deny my right to exist. 

I AM HERE! I am living my life, my way, in my own time. I am a Woman. I am Female. That's how I feel. That's how I've always felt.

Happiness. Never underestimate it's healing powers or it's ability to lift your mood. It is something that has been in short supply for me over the past year. The odd glimmer here and there but mostly there has been the cloak of sadness and the hat of depression. There have been a few developments in my life which have lifted the hat and taken off the coat for the time being and if all goes to plan, I can at least pack them away for a while.

After spending 3 weeks off of work, I have been, albeit, temporarily moved to a different branch. My position had become untenable, through no fault of my own. So, due to the life changing year I have coming up, I don't need that kind of stress in an already quite stressful life. So far, things are a lot better. It has improved my mental health, my physical fitness and my confidence. I have a manager who is using my skill set and colleagues who will actually speak to me. I'm actually enjoying work again. Hopefully, long term I will get to stay either in this branch, or one of the other local branches.

Being in another branch at the moment is a good thing as I no longer have a car. My automobile has gone to the salvage yard after being written off. I only had a low speed bump, less than 5mph and on the basis of 4 photos, my insurance company have paid out. I was thinking of getting rid of it anyway as I didn't need one so big. (Oooh-err missus!) Decision made then. As I am getting the bus into work, the car was just sitting there anyway. Depending on the branch I end up in will also make my decision as to if I replace the car. The benefits at the moment outweigh the drawbacks. Improving my fitness by more walking, my mental health by less stress from driving and my bank balance by no incidental motoring costs.

I'm looking forward to two weeks off next month. This time, I won't have to worry about going back and can enjoy them. My first Speech Therapy group session is in those two weeks and I am planning a bit of an image change. No details, you'll just have to wait for the photos. Time to enjoy life again and look forward to what is coming up in the next 12 months. There is a long way to go, but I'm feeling more confident that I can make the changes needed to get to my goals. Wish me luck!

After yesterdays musings, now it's time for an actual update on how everything is going on a daily basis. The diary of my transition is the title of this blog so it's only right I keep you all updated. So, here goes...…

The physical effects of the hormone therapy have levelled out at the moment. My body has changed shape; my skin is softer; I am developing a (small) chest and putting on weight around my thighs and hips. I have put on a bit of weight generally around my middle which I will need to shift at some point. I am also vitamin D deficient again. More tablets. Up to 7 a day now.However, I need to deal with another issue before I really get into that. I am currently undergoing speech therapy and I am due to start electrolysis (finally) at some point. Still having to shave every day is a huge chore. 

Mentally, I'm in a slightly low place at the moment. Major issues at work have pulled me down. I can't go any further into this as it's still ongoing. It has caused me to seek time off of work as it and still is affecting me physically as well. I am suffering from a loss of confidence and with the issues in yesterdays post, they have pushed me down.

On the plus side, however, I have currently been discharged from the care of the consultant at the clinic and have been referred for surgery - I am currently awaiting my first outpatients appointment. Hopefully, this time next year, I will be in the recovery phase of my transition. There's still along way to go before that happens; weight loss/BMI reduction and more electrolysis due to past operations. I shall explain all another time.

What is next? Firstly, improving my mental health. That's the priority. I'm lucky that I've had a good group of people around me recently that have been looking out for me and keeping me relatively sane. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything you've done recently - I really appreciate it. Secondly, weight loss and exercise. My BMI and waist measurement have to be within certain parameters to be eligible for surgery. I've come this far and don't want to have any more holdups in treatment. 

So, that's where I am. Still plenty of hoops to jump through, things to do, weight to lose and issues to solve. Fingers crossed xx

My name is Danielle. If you want to put a label on me, use Transgender Female. I prefer Human Being myself. Why? I am a Human Being, first and foremost. My gender should not come into the equation, however, it does. You may ask yourself; 'If your gender doesn't matter, then why are you putting yourself through the process of changing it?' It's a question I have asked myself many times over the past few years. Why am I putting myself through all of the aggravation, pain and mental health issues? 

I have for many years now, known that I am my own person. Whether other people like that person is entirely up to them. I am fiercely independent, know what I like and dislike, a good listener, sometimes be very annoying and tells crap jokes. That essentially makes me, well, me. So why am I going through the transition from changing my 'assigned at birth' gender to another? To align my mind and heart with the body I should have had. Lets face it, there are many gender markers out there, but 2 basic body types. Those with dangly bits for genitalia and those with non dangly bits for genitalia. Those with developed mammary glands and those without. I an correcting what mother nature got wrong and putting my brain and heart in the right body shape for their feelings. 

Now recently, there has been a lot of media attention regarding the rights of transgender people, not just in the US but right here in Blighty. Only last weekend, a group of transphobic people from the LGBTQ+ community hijacked the pride parade in London hurling their transphobic propaganda out to the crowd. (Excuse me if I sound biased, but, well, you can see why.) You see, this very small minority of people claim that I will never be a woman and therefore, shouldn't be included into that sphere. 'You can't just have an operation and be a woman. You will never know what it's like to grow up as a woman and go through all that a woman has to go through. You shouldn't be allowed into Female spaces during transition either.' (Please note the use of Woman in their argument as opposed to Female.)

This is very true. I never will know what it is like to grow up as a woman. However, I have grown up in the wrong body (Male) and lived with my internal struggle for about 25 years. Puberty the first time around was bad enough as I wished for my body to be different and that I'd one day wake up with a female body. I spent a lot of my years from 8 to 16 being bullied for being a bit different and not getting involved in sports or playing with traditionally boys toys. As soon as I could, I started dressing in secret as female and knew instantly that I felt more at ease with myself.  It just felt right.

I went through my own growing up cycle, trying to come to terms with my own issues whilst trying to become an adult, make job decisions and outwardly appear as people wanted me to appear due to the gender I was assigned at birth. I even got married. Those feelings were still there, in the furthest recesses of my brain. So, no, I didn't grow up as a woman, but I had a feeling that I was female from an early age and had to grow up with that and thinking that I would be in the wrong body for the rest of my life.

Luckily, I am in a position to change that. This does come with it's own plethora of issues, hoops to jump through and anguish to contend with. Long waiting lists for treatment, the stares, funny looks, feelings of dread and fear when in public that you might get some physical or verbal abuse. My one overriding fear, day in and day out, is the fear of the abuse. Every time I go out, use public toilets, use public transport, I fear that someone will say or do something. If I go into a female toilet, even though I know that I identify as female and I am legally entitled to be there, I fear someone taking offence at my presence when all I want to do is use the loo. I identify as female, my brain says I identify as female and my heart definitely says I'm female. 

I don't feel male at all and any last vestiges of my assigned maleness have almost gone. Some won't go completely - they will be the parts that make me who I am. That's the point of all this. I am me. A human being. Who has the right to deny me my basic human rights? All I want in life is to be comfortable in my own skin, earn money, have a nice home and nice things, be happy and find someone to be with. The same as 99% of the people on this planet. I just want to live as me, in the right body, liking and disliking what I like, listening to the music I like and telling my crap jokes. Please?