Not your usual post today – but I thought I’d post a few pics from my visit to that London on Saturday – to relive my early 20s, when Britpop ruled the music world.
Whether it’s beer, music or football, I can’t abide fakery in life. And that extends to being trans as well – I wanna keep it real.
I never usually stay in touch with ex-girlfriends but, in the case of this one, I was always prepared to make an exception. We shared a house together and planned to spend the rest of our lives together. It didn’t work out, but I still hoped we could be friends because she’s awesome. Anyway, I saw her a couple of days ago.
So I’ve just got back from my third appointment at Nottingham Gender Clinic – and it’s the best possible news. The experts there agree I have gender dysphora and, subject to my blood tests being OK, have agreed to prescribe estrogen. *Punches air*
They say that everyone has a book in them but, me being me, I reckon I’ve got two. So I’m gonna write ’em. Please go out there and buy ’em! :o)
I’ve just had a photograph of me copied from a dating site and pasted on Twitter in a transphobic post by a notorious TERF. I mean, what the actual f*ck?! It’s time we put a stop to this. Here’s how.
Butterflies seem to be an important part of the symbolism of being transgender, especially for those about to transition, leaving that ugly caterpillar body behind, entering a second-puberty chrysalis and then emerging as a beautiful creature at the end of it all.