Those Are The Days

Running, felt different this evening. Body twisting and hanging forwards over my hips. My bum felt a bit bigger, may be its those frozen soy beans I’ve been adding to my meals. May be not. More likely frozen ice cream or chocolate.

Nothing has changed of course it’s me and my own self perspective and my body image. Noticing things that have always been there. My own natural feminine traits that I notice from time to time which tonight have combined into one big self recognition; it just so happened it came together in a vibrant and flavour overload this evening. My three quarter lengths just seem to fit perfect and the sports bra never having felt more comfortable. This has always been the case of course and again it just happens to be a positive night and a perfect time to take advantage while fore-filling one of my New Year’s not really a resolution, resolutions. Running, exercising and getting my weight back to where it should be – where I want it. Not just to feel good about myself, keeping my self-respect about my own body and my health.

There are some days I wish I had feathers in my hair and just to glow femininity It’s just one of those things that come with being transgendered. In fact it’s one of those things that come with being a woman. Didn’t Chaka Khan sing ‘I’m every woman’. I like to think this depicts our ability to be somebody of depth with many kinds of aspects to our personality; not just being seen as a single stereotype of what a woman should be. It’s what a woman can be, by choice.

There are days when I feel quite neutral and my mind is focused on other things besides my own spirituality and femininity. It’s all part of living and the waves of feelings, thoughts and action that we run through every day, not just as a woman but as a person. There are some days I feel sensual and there are days when I’m just damned annoyed at something. We’re all like it from time to time and being transgendered doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to be like that if we’re going to be a woman. This is because like I’ve said previously I strongly believe being transgendered is simply a state. A state of deciding what we are. Self discovery. Deciding what we’ll do about it so we can get on with the rest of our lives. For those who discover that they are indeed a woman then that is the point they cease to be transgendered; unless they still have issues to resolve. That is the point at which they become a woman. It is of course just my personal view of what transgenderism is.

–♥–

I try not to dwell on these details too much now that I have found a way to live with my thoughts and where I will go with it. The weather was clear today but with the forecast for rain in the afternoon my decision was cemented; get out and run rather than stay in and do an exercise DVD. I got ready quickly so that there was no delay in getting out the front door. No text messages or emails to divert my attention and pushing breakfast every so much closer to lunch time. I got to the front door. Key, check. Trainers done up, check. Three quarter lengths pulled up (they like to sit low on the hips, double check. Sports bra, ah. ‘Do I really need it’ I thought. Well I really don’t, certainly not at the moment though it does do something for what I do have. No I thought, I enjoy wearing it for me. It’s not for effect it does something for me and gives me a little extra confidence. So as much as I can run without it, I actually enjoy wearing it. Upstairs I went, top off, bra on, top back on, hoodie back on, back downstairs. Practically knackered already.

With the bleak weak sunlight of the winter hiding nothing from anyone and the business of Sunday morning of dog walkers and joggers I headed out. It’s different from the evening. In the evening there is the cover of darkness and dim street lamps. Emptiness in the streets, especially with the cold of January and the threat of snow in people minds; and the draw of the sofa and a television. The brightness of the day means a little extra confidence is required. While the truth is that it’s not that much different from the cover of the evening and people care just as less as they do in the day. I feel less worried about it these days. I’ve said before I barely hesitate to walk out the front door but running around the streets there will always be cars passing with people returning from that oh I’ve forgotten something at Tesco wiping out any saving they made with club card points and those carrying out their Sunday morning paper ritual. More often than not the driver will look as they pass. More often men but never limited to. I don’t know what they’re thinking. I never will unless I ran after the car like an excited dog and breathlessly asked them as they struggle out of the car with a plastic bag of forget-me-groceries “What was you thinking?”
“Sorry?”
“Back there. Coming up the hill.”
“I don’t…”
“When I was running, you looked…”
“Do you need help?”

So may be not such a good idea to ask. More to the point not much point in worrying about. It’s usually easy enough to tell when a driver looks over as a result of a testosterone driven roaming eye. For those who were confused as to whether I was a man or woman then what does that matter. They don’t know. So what? The fact of the matter is most people just look at other people. People are interested in other people. Look, there’s someone running. Wish I was doing that but Eastenders is far too addictive.

Transition is probably mostly about our own minds transitioning more than the minds of others. Sure some people will have views, some stronger than others but lets not underestimate our own work we have to put in. I certainly have a long way to go but with a bit of patience in myself I should be able to keep the glass half full and enjoy the trip.

Until next time.

x

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4 thoughts on “Those Are The Days

  1. Thank you. I’m sure many people will have different reasons or have other conclusions about how they feel. I certainly suspect that the gender debate has a long way to go. We still don’t actually know why this happens and may be we never will.

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