Even good coffee is of little help. In a moment I will doll-up. For now just too cozy in my negligée.
Then I'll spend my day doing this and that, mostly nothings. Until Monday shows around.
A whole different game. Exit the comfy torpedo bra, welcome the concealing tit splasher, a.k.a. minimizer. Have an appointment on the job, can't risk it. It'll be the black sturdy one that erases all in it's tight grip.
Good bye pink mules and swishing hosiery, welcome jeans and day's shoes, baggy shirts. Winter jacket. Wig stored on it's foam head, game over.
This dual life takes a dear toll. Trapped in the wrong body for life.
Quick count. Fairy casted her spell like 45, no my bad, make that 48 years ago.
Almost a half a century of perpetual hiding and survival. That many occasions lost with the wind.
Yep. Those were other times. Transition, a dream few dared contemplate.
Today I could. Most administrative obstacles have been removed. Society has changed, medecine madde huge progresses.
Yes, I could finally afford to be me.
But that's not going to happen.
Life took also it's toll on my body. Now, it won't respond that good to HRT, scars risk to poorly heal.
Anesthesia, another big question mark on the picture.
Yes I could but I can't anymore.
Sisters, Honeys, take my bitter tears as a warning. Transit. Yes, I realize it's quite a decision.
However nothing would match the perpetual dilemma of not being truly you.
Fairies spells can not be undone. Once part of it, forever part of it.
I've spent my life chasing a dream, "passing", however it was more of an existence.
Had even fully functional lactating breasts concealed under a loose male business jacket.
Nevertheless it was a masquarade, perpetual cheating in a world where I don't belong as male.
Stepping out of my nightgown and walking away in a suit, how horrible can that be.
Transit while you can, be more than you could ever be.
I love you, I love you all !
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