will be sorely missed.
I previously linked to my friend Aria’s new post here. I’d like to add some thoughts, observations, and conclusions of my own.
I discovered, over the past six months to a year, how much I dislike fighting. Whether it was commenting somewhere or on my own blog, I felt the same disquiet fall over me like a cold fog. I felt dirty. Every time.
I’m not angry, or bitter. Really. I actually love who I am and the life I’ve created for myself and my spouse. I’m at ease and content with my life. Life has become a series of daily challenges, to be won or lost. And, contrary to popular belief, this started before my surgeries, not after.
I’m tired of the old ways, of constantly defending myself from the onslaught of ridiculous accusations and slurs to my character, intelligence, and sanity.
I’m not on display for some man’s prurient interests, nor will I continue to respond to his overt or covert verbal violence. If I’m not pretty enough or feminine enough, too fucking bad. My spouse loves me just the way I am.
I didn’t “cut my balls off”, nor did I “mutilate my genitalia”. I had corrective surgery. It has nothing to do with you so get over it.
And I didn’t decide this in a drunken stupor, listening to country music, which I actually like. This was decided for me before I was born.
If you’re looking for a fight, go elsewhere. I refuse to play that anymore. I will not respond, nor let others goad me into responding.
I will not go looking for fights and drama. I’m done with that.
I will try to be a good example for others. I will practice live and let live. Everyone has the right to choose their own path.
I choose the path of least resistance.
This is going to be a great year!
My friend Aria has posted, for the new year, some excellent ideas. Give it a whirl!
but then my little fairy friend decided to bad mouth me and my former medical condition. I really wonder, Mr. GayBoy, if you would say all those things to my face instead of hiding behind your anonymous blog from where I consider to be the number two armpit of the northeast, Boston. But I guess, while waiting for your next trick, you had one Corona too many.
On second thought, I am ending the year on a high note!
Happy New Year, Y’all! 🙂
Though I know better than to continue responding to my new friend I have one thing to say to him:
Shut the fuck up!
You don’t speak for me!!
You wouldn’t know femininity if it smacked you in the
My gay detractor thinks the gay “non-op” is more feminine because she can pose better in a picture but I can make driving an 80,000 lb truck look sexy!
My heartfelt thanks goes out to my new admirer friend, “Jamiegotapenis” for all the hits. Thanks, dude!
So it looks like a very nice man has been helping me with my blogging efforts. The problem is he thinks that my life revolves around make-up counters and nail salons. It doesn’t. Actually, it’s pretty normal at this point, though I’m worrying a bit about this year’s taxes. My accountant gave me sage advice though: we’ll worry about them next year 😉
See, I’m a truck owner, not a retail sales person. My corner office with a view has a steering wheel and a laptop. Heels would be a concern in my environment. Boots and jeans are de rigueur, not optional.
This is really a non-issue and a non-event. Mr. Penis thinks he can dictate policy to all women he loathes.
Sorry to disappoint. I don’t play that.
Oh, by the way, please don’t include me in your so-called “transgender spectrum”. That bus crashed and burned long ago…
I dedicate this to TrannyGirl15, the inspiration for this poem.
This is what the world has come to
The narcissistic pining of the disenfranchised
Lost in their own shit.
Look at me! Look at me! Look at what??
Borrowed daddy’s money to pay for something unneeded?
You’ve put a mask on your true self.
And god forbid someone disagree with your reality
Suggesting that maybe your entitlement is unwarranted?
And your advice useless.
A fool and her money
are soon parted
as we know all too well.
So tell me supertranny
What are you going to do when the emergency personnel
discover your secret?
I know, I know
It doesn’t matter,
You’ll tell them “It’s ok,
I’m a Non-Op”
Do us all
A really big favor
And shut the fuck up!
You have absolutely no clue
What a transsexual is
And you never will.
Stuck in the
Of your own making.
I have this picture
that I look at once a year
This particular picture
isn’t a tribute to something lost
or even forgotten
but a departure.
there are two things here
an open suitcase is just as important
if not more so.
A long lost instruction
“…start packing a week before you leave…”
so I did
both inside and out.
I can see the question
bouncing in my friend’s head
why save such a horrible thing?
Then the answer dawns
and she smiles.
“We’ve shed our chrysalis,
our wings singed from the flames,
no worse for the wear