motherly love
shit. that didnt go too badly. she's understanding but mainly scared at the thought of me going under the knife. i couldn't reassure her that i wont, but i did acknowledge that i'm not going to rush anything. i guess the relief will sink in.. soon. i woke from a nap earlier this evening, and just felt.. so utterly good in my body. no tension whatsoever. everything connected properly, from legs to hips all up my spine to my head. i felt a renewed interest in my girly bits, although this last week i had just blanked them out. i felt the desire to play with myself, to touch and feel. half it is as if i am feeling somebody else, some cute girl's body. the other half, there is the sensation and satisfaction for me. if i did get rid of my breasts, that's something i would lose, access to boobs to grope O_o. i would certainly have to ensure to have a girlfriend, for the fun of playing with her bits. now my housemate is calling my breasts 'moobs' (for man-boobs). two of my lovely prettyboy friends invited me over for a boys night tonight. but teh sick kept me at home. i think one of them is probably a transgendered woman, and doesnt fully accept it yet. either way, they both register uniquely on the gender spectrum. prolly why we've stayed close buddies over the years. my acknowledgment of myself as trans, seems to have got people thinking. atleast, i hope it has.
i have this image of myself, or a kinda dream really. me in vancouver or somewhere, skateboarding through the night, flat-chested, male and in control of my body and movement. i flick past streetcorners and see the orange glow of the city. buses pass in the distance, their cables grinding overhead, homeless people eye me off from their alley-way kingdoms. i am smooth and silent but inside i am so happy, happier than i have ever been perhaps. i am a queer boy who can finally fly. i am swift and solitary, skimming through the night. this is my daydream. this is my vision of my boy identity i should have had. that i maybe can, or will have...
i have this image of myself, or a kinda dream really. me in vancouver or somewhere, skateboarding through the night, flat-chested, male and in control of my body and movement. i flick past streetcorners and see the orange glow of the city. buses pass in the distance, their cables grinding overhead, homeless people eye me off from their alley-way kingdoms. i am smooth and silent but inside i am so happy, happier than i have ever been perhaps. i am a queer boy who can finally fly. i am swift and solitary, skimming through the night. this is my daydream. this is my vision of my boy identity i should have had. that i maybe can, or will have...