my transition

There was never really a decision to make when I  transitioned from a man to a woman. It just felt natural blossoming to an exotic flower. Although it was a difficult adventure at first, meeting girls who are  fenced in my world, made this journey a little bit less stressful.

I have a lot of sisters who were primarily my major influences. I saw them playing with their Barbie dolls. Colorful, pretty clothes. Make-up. Girly stuff. They seemed like magnets that drew  me so close to them. That’s probably the reason why I was so effeminate, I was surrounded with women and all that shines, glitters and sparkles with them. Just imagine a boy, crouched on the floor, hands on his chin, admiring the girls twirl in an invisible star burst, smiling with that beautifully painted face, hairs curled to perfection, well manicured and pedicured nails, and the clothes, those clothes…flowy, satiny . It’s what dreams are made of.

At first I thought I was just gay. A flamboyant boy girating with Cindy Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”. Then my desire burnt more intensely as I grow older. I had my hair grown longer. I subscribed to Avon for their make-ups. I used my sister’s clothes. I wore feminine underwear. Shoes, stilletos!

My parents were not in the same boat as I were though when they found out about my dressing up. My brothers gave me a hard time at a point of disowning me. Most of my relatives despised me. I was a disgrace and a source of embarrassment they said. Everyone it seemed looked at me as if I were a freak of nature… It was a very hard phase of my life. But I didn’t crumble. I studied hard and proved to everyone that despite my being different, I can still be a source of pride. And I did. I graduated with honors from grade school to college. I put myself to scholarship my entire academic career.My immediate family slowly and gradually embraced the person that I have become. My father officially gave up the day when  he gave me a hug and he said he was proud of me. That day was when I gave him my first pay check from my first job. My mother, sisters and brothers gave me their nod of approval at varying points of my life.

Although this has been the case with my  family, the society I lived in was an entirely different story. I got bullied, teased and hurt. Physically and emotionally hurt. Men would only want me for financial reasons, not for the love I was hoping to be reciprocated. Things like these would drive a person like me to depression or insanity. Nothing has kept me alive but  my faith in God. I know in time things would change.

Even though I live in Canada now,  sometimes I still feel that my journey has its bumps and hurdles.  When people would find out the real person that I am, the disgust in their faces are unthinkable. As if I were a monster that walked on the surface of the earth. This may be the case, but Canadian men love us ,to the point of spoiling us and that I am not complaining. It’s a good feeling being wanted even  if it’s lustful. Even if I am just a piece of meat.

It  is here in Canada where I had my breast implants, some facial feminization surgery, laser treatments, skin buffing, silicone pumps …the whole nine yards.

I love my life. It is too short of a journey for me to dwell on depression and sadness. But it did come at one point. Maybe it will come again. I pray for strength all the time. That when that time comes, I’ll be ready.

TGIRLS VS XDRESSERS ( the unseen war )

Transvestites, crossdressers, drag queens : by general definition  means,  men dressing up as women on certain occasions. The drag queens pushes the envelope by dressing  more elaborately and donning over-the- top make up , these for the intention of stage shows and performances.  Although all chose to dress up as women, they do not have the intention to be women. Most of them are flamboyant gay men.

Transexuals (i.e. tgirl, tranny, shemale, ladyboy) on the other hand, maybe at one point started to crossdress, but in the long run decided to pursue womanhood by dressing up full time and opted to forego with surgeries and treatments leading the way to becoming or looking like a lady. While the majority undergoes surgery, some just embraced the body they’re in and just dress up 24/7. Reasons: Trania: I already look feminine, and I love my hormone boobies. Teeti: I don’t have the financial means to do so. Phukee:  I’m old and just want to have fun now, I just don’t know if my body can handle going under  the knife. Sheika: out of religious and family respect, I’ll treat my body as a temple. Quania:  I’m scared of surgeries and I have low pain tolerance.

Pre and post-op transsexuals. The former keeps the penis, the latter has it chopped off. Main reason: personal and varying ( this will be another topic).

The war between the Xdressers and the tgirls, mythologically, started when the god, Savantah, doesn’t have the resources to keep up with his lavish lifestyle meanwhile saw that his twin tranny sister, Kevinia,  gets precious gifts from her mortal admirers. Jealousy sparked, and one night he sneaked to her room and tried on her clothes and make up. A big light bulb shone on top of his mohawk when he saw how pretty he was. Well , not as pretty as Kevinia, with her long shiny strawberry blond hair, big 36DD breasts,  Jlo hips, smooth silky skin, all courtesy of the goddess Aphrodite and Dr. Suporhn. Savantah put on a wig and shaved his face and body  extensively and went down from the mountains, wearing his sister’s clothes and make up and accessories. He modulated his voice, refined the masculine moves and swayed like a lady. And before he knew it, men were under his spell. Soon enough, he was back with his lavish lifestyle. Kevinia was furious when she found out what her twin brother was doing. Fooling all those men and robbing them off with their hard earned money. She confronted another tranny goddess, Lhuiller, who empathized with her but said, “we can’t control what men want. Some of them probably know what they’re doing and enjoy it. If they don’t then it’s something they have to deal with.” She puts on a flower on her curly hair and continued, “ it’s a tough world out there, even for us goddesses. We just have to be competitive. And just stay beautiful”. Kevinia just stared at her and pondered on that thought.

Savantah went on with  his conquest , and other gods followed on with his footsteps. Other tranny goddesses weren’t happy with this situation, and won’t accept Lhuiller’s logic. So the war goes on.

I have been on the scene where the trannies would whisper nastily when a crossdresser would walk in. The infuriating part though is, when the crossdresser romps  around, thinking she is the QUEEN. Looking down at everyone. I’m not saying all tgirls are nasty, and all crossdressers are mean. But there is a certain air that just doesn’t sit when these two breeds are caged together. Until these two species can come up with a solution to living harmoniously, then let’s just sit and watch the drama. J

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AM I GAY FOR LIKING TRANSEXUALS?

This is the question most often asked by men about themselves. They are confused as why they are drawn to that male appendage attached to that beautiful , sexy body and feminine face. This is just my thought and opinion and in no way should define who you  are.

NO, I don’t think you are gay when you are attracted to a tgirl. If, the only thing you do is give head. I think a  tgirl needs to be satisfied in sex and the only way to reach that satisfaction is through her penis. She needs to climax and orgasm, and as a partner  you need to meet that by giving her head or the least a hand job. BUT, if you bottom (i.e. gets the ass treatment) then that somehow tells me you’re gay or maybe bisexual. I don’t find it sexually stimulating or gratifying to get behind a man and pound his ass.

Although a lot of tgirls do top (i.e. gives the ass treatment) , it’s just for business. I have talked to a lot of them and they prefer their boyfriends just be the top in the relationship.  Confusing isn’t it? I know but these girls just needs to satisfy their clients but at the end of the day they want someone straight and masculine to  steer  the  motion on bed. Being feminine and ladylike in all forms and style, a tgirl need not be reminded that she has that male intuition in her by GIVING the ass treatment to a boyfriend.

If you are confident in your sexuality then I salute you. If you like tgirls and enjoy the things that go along with it and at night before finally resting your body to slumber, you feel STRAIGHT as an arrow, then you are STRAIGHT. Just don’t say ``hey I`m straight `` and then bend over and slap your assh*le with lubricant, to me that doesn`t say STRAIGHT at all.

Live life to the fullest. Enjoy it while you can, life is short. Don`t let labels dictate your way of living. Just live your life the way you want it to be. Be happy. And be strong. J

will and kate: a romance made to last

The vows.  The kiss.  The gown. The wedding of the decade.

According to a news survey, Prince William and Kate Middleton’s matrimonial ceremony is the most watched  TV event with more than 2 billion viewers glued to the boob tube! And so Ellen Degeneres said, that only 8 people in the world failed to do so.

It`s truly a remarkable moment where the world suffers too  much from tragedies and bad news, that a fairy tale romance could somehow alleviate everyones` spirit, even for a short time. I for one was mesmerized at this event and praise Kate for her impeccable taste for her wedding gown. I actually imagined her in that exact gown. The classic silhouette , the feminine lacy details, the simple and elegant outcome is just breathtaking.

Prince William is a stunner himself. That vibrant red military uniform is his homage to his fleet. And my respect goes to that.

They look so beautiful together, and I hope this marriage would be in for the long run.

Cheers to the newly wed Will and Kate J

I'm a B*TCH

Sometimes it’s so hard to find myself in the crowd. I look at the mirror and I don’t recognize the person in my reflection. So much had changed in me both physically and mentally through out my adult life. It’s a constant struggle to stay sane in this crazy world. I am never the pessimistic, but negative stuff does take its toll on me. I guess I’m only human to succumb to my weaknesses.

I grew up unattractive. Pimply. Short. Dry hair. Betty Suarez in the TV series Ugly Betty is far more beautiful than I was. I was poor too, so gearing up fancy clothes and accessories to cover my outside flaws , was out of the equation. So there I was ugly face  and wearing ugly clothes. Good thing I was smart and academically forward so that diverted the public’s attention to my achievements. But finding someone to share love  with was a struggle. Physical attraction was always the key. And I didn’t have that attractive physicality.

Good thing I have the best girl friends in the world who shared their beauty secrets to me. Feminine hormones to smoothen the skin. A trip to the salon for the hair. Gym and good food for the body. So I suddenly turned from being ugly to somewhat not ugly. Still not on the beautiful meter. But it has been a journey getting to the somewhat not ugly stage and for that I’m already grateful.

Money hadn’t been a problem when I moved here in Canada so I had the resources to do more in the beauty department. Surgeries. Implants.Laser treatments. Gym membership. Full hair lavish treatments.  And the best cosmetics , clothes and accessories my credit card can afford.

I consider myself pretty now. Guys recognize me with a different passion. But I  still find myself lost in the crowd, my reflection suggests another person. I cry some nights, but not with anger with what Ive done with myself, but with what Ive done with who I am. I have become more arrogant, snobbish and stuck up. I have demeaned girls in my world who are ugly and masculine looking. I have toyed  with people’s feelings. I boast of my designer stuff like I’m a celebrity. Bitch, that’s what I’ve become.Worse is I am aware of all of these and I choose to do it still. Like there is the devil telling me to do it.

Yes I am pretty. Quite attractive.  Inside I’m burning. But hey, I know I can still put out that devilish fire in me. In time , I will. I know, I will.

to all men who adore trannies....

Why do some men treat us like toys?  I have been in the tranny scene long enough to know SOME of the reasons why they treat us like a piece of meat. First of, they watch too much porn, that when the time comes that they are faced with a real  tgirl, their cock pulsates like their brains migrated there. And in so doing think from that appendage that grows hard upon the sight of something sexually stimulating. The thing that pisses me off extremely  is  that their hands are all over! From the ass,  to caressing the cleavage and to the crotch.   Unbelievable.  And they wonder why the girls are rude to them. Secondly, they are paying ( this applies to escorts) , so they think that they have the authority as a customer or a client to do whatever they please. Like spit on your asshole, put the bare finger in the asshole, go bareback,  biting, slapping,  and so on and so forth without the consent of the escort. Now, what is very annoying is that they are only paying for a chicken nugget but wants the whole chicken, catch my drift? Thirdly, is that they perceive what they see. They see a tgirl dressed in nothing but the skimpiest of clothes, they see a slut, a whore, and yep a piece of meat. Sigh, I guess we girls should start dressing up as nuns in order to gain respect.

This does not apply to all men though. Although some are dogs, some are puppies. Respectful, polite and chivalrous,  a man who knows how to treat a woman. Treat a tgirl the same way you would treat your mother. But if you have an estranged relationship with your mother and you want to strangle her, then that’s a different story. Just be polite and be nice. Buy her a drink if you are at the club. Ask her what you can do as a paying client. What are your limitations and boundaries. And don’t watch porn prior to seeing  a tgirl. The image playing in your mind would change your demeanor  upon meeting a tgirl face to face. Also make sure you have mints  and applied underarm Old spice when engaging with a tgirl. And when I say engaging I mean intercourse. Don’t wonder why she is of considerable distance when this engagement is ensuing.

So guys, all I have to say is, I may be a tranny, yes I am yummy as a steak, but nothing is more attractive than a guy who can figuratively belt out Aretha Franklin’s R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

a new beginning

Today I start a blog. This would chronicle my journey and evolution  as a transsexual;  my thoughts on things relevant or irrelevant to life; my opinions on current events, gossips and juicy headlines ; or just anything brewing under the blazing sun. This would definitely hone my literary and writing skills, or the lack thereof…

I would like to keep my identity anonymous to protect the people who are dear to me. Although this might be the case, my stories are pretty accurate and factual.

I grew up on a third world country in Asia, witnessed a lot of things a normal kid shouldn’t lay eyes on. Poverty had always been on my shoulders,  but I know this is just temporary as I am driven to change this course of my life. My parents pointed out the value of education early on in my existence. Saying this would be my ticket out of fish and rice on to the plate of medium rare steak and mash potatoes with red wine. Of course they are right. Although I prefer my steak well done, which I had two nights ago . Our house was small. Two bedrooms. One washroom.  A small kitchen. A leaky roof.  Six people. Natural disasters are our enemies , because not only do we fear for our lives during that dilemma, but after that as well. Our house is not built on the strongest of foundations,  and if the big bad wolf would pay a visit, he would just have to blow our house to get in. My childhood wasn’t about playing games and wishing on a bright star, it was more of a struggle…food on the table, clothes to wear, tuition fees for school, medicine when one of us is sick, etc. These things have defined me as person. And while now I’m sitting on my comfortable bed , typing on my Mac laptop, and snacking on Godiva chocolates, I look back on these and smile. Although I wouldn’t wish this to anyone who had been accustomed to a good life, I would definitely go through that stage again just because they made me strong. A strong individual who can go through almost anything . A strong individual who can weather any storm. A strong individual who can take on majestic risks and rise victoriously.

Barbie was actually my first influence to being a transsexual.  Her golden hair, wide blue eyes, those legs that literary and figuratively went on for days, and that curve that the Coke bottle envies, were my fascination. My sister dressed her up and vividly thought  that I was putting her clothes to. Those sexy outfits and stiletto shoes were what made my dreams. Somedays I would secretly snuck Barbie out of my sister’s closet and play with her. Brush her long shiny hair. Imagined putting on her make- up and conjured up a story about her snatching every men in the club. That was just the beginning of a tedious and rigorous trek to being the woman I am today.

In grade school, I would always approach and play with the girls. The boys back then are into rough games and tend to get cuts and bruises and  I couldn’t handle that. So I would stick with my girl friends and play some gentle games like jump rope. After that I would braid their hairs and pretend we were on pageants. I would act as the host and judge. Underneath me wishing I was the candidate instead.

High school was a bit different. Hormones had already started kicking in and they kicked so hard I despised that period. Acne, deep voice, broad shoulders, and hairs all over! How I hoped that someone had already introduced me to estrogen pills to supress those horrible effects. But no, I have to go through them, and endure those horrendous  transforming phase. At this point in my life, my effeminate and flamboyant nature had already been evident despite the masculine changes I was  entering. And that nature got me bullied a lot. I cried. I didn’t like being teased. My family thought I was queer too and my father would give me the hardest time about it. I just embraced the fact that I was different and in order to shift the attention from my unique personality, I studied hard and became an honor  student. My family was so proud of me but that didn’t shake anything. Their fear that I'll be something different still remain intact in their brains. And that my future would just be confined to the beauty parlor where most of my kind in my country end up.

Trying to prove them wrong, I got into a prestigious university and got myself a Bachelor’s Degree in Health Sciences. I thought that it would be a great pre-med course for I wanted to be a doctor. I have already been accepted to a medical school when the unthinkable happened, my family can’t afford to send me to my dreams of becoming a healer. I was crushed but that didn’t end my life. I looked for a job and after a long search ended up with one. I was overworked and underpaid but I didn’t complain.

I was in that job when an agency came to my city looking for immigrants to Canada. I applied and luckily got in. Long story short, I am already here.

More stories to come J