"The unexamined life is not worth living" Socrates

- - scatterings of ideas sent to my younger self, a sensitive girl who was fooled into believing she was a boy because of anatomy - -

Thursday, 13 February 2020

Everything is Fine Here ...

I am posting one final time to say goodbye properly, and, as well, to clear up a mess caused by deleting an uncharacteristically hasty and messy post.

Yes, this is the last time I intend to post here for many reasons, most of them included in a post I did on my other blog; the blog I intend to continue to post to, when the spirit (the one I have left of the two that battled for control so recently) moves me.

I would especially like to thank my friends in Portugal who account for over 100, 000 of the over 500, 000 visits here. I really would have liked a comment or two from any one of you; ah well.

But, seriously, my sincere thanks to those who did comment so generously: Calie, Jenny, Petra, two Aunties, Dru, Melissa (rest in peace, love), and so many others who encouraged me at the beginning. A special shout-out to Tom, Lindsay, and Ellena (who left this world better by living and sadder by dying) who brought others here. She and they knew nothing about the world of a transgender woman, then learned more than they ever wanted to about this one in particular.

There are over a hundred followers, and I know most don't stop by anymore. And, yet, I also know that some do: Rouchswalwe, Joey, Emma, Anne, Lucy, and so many others whom I haven't heard from for ages, but remember fondly, and would love to catch up with.

There are others who became friends. I see them regularly, or irregularly. We talk or chat - thank you, too, and I hope to talk to you all soon ... tonight, in one case, I know already that we will chat.

So, I am fine ... everything is under control, apart from those things that should never be under control; the fun bits!

As Nadine tells us:
Love You! 

Love Yourselves! 

Wednesday, 29 January 2020


“Real isn't how you are made, ... It's a thing that happens to you."*

Almost six years ago, a post called Timeless appeared here.  It narrated an imagined encounter with a guide on the spiritual plane (if that sounds hokey ... ah well) named Aadi, and an alternate self, Beth. This was not the first post of that sort. Dreamtime encounters became an important part of my search (or quest) for inner peace. To be fair, it might be that becoming open to the idea of dreamtime encounters was what was important and the rest flowed from that.

So much has happened to me since then, and yet when I read what that person (who seems so remote from who I am now) wrote those years ago, it still feels authentic. In retrospect, Aadi and Beth should have seemed far-fetched (even to me), but they weren't - for me then or now. They were facets of myself and it was very important for me at that time to know them and flesh them out in these posts. Aadi and Beth were companions and helpers along the way on a quest that ended with me accepting who I am. 

I was on that quest for many years. It took me to dark places where danger existed - but demons were not slain. Instead, they became better understood and eventually accepted or, at least, put in their place. 

Long before starting this blog and connecting with real people who could help me understand myself, there were visits to fiction sites on the internet where folks like me were magically transformed to become real. As we know, stage magic is all in the preparation. In the end, nothing is really transformed. The rabbit and dove are always real before they are pulled from the hat. The assistant only appears to have been sawn in half. 

A different sort of magic lives inside of us and takes a sort of preparation that is quite different. After it is over it feels more real than anything sudden, theatrical, or mysterious. Yet, if I tried to explain what happened to me and all the transformations before name changes and surgery, it would sound ... well ... like magic. 

Any decent quest changes the protagonist forever. Without the journey, I would not exist now. Without the struggles I couldn't feel the peace I feel now. 

It seems to me the source of transformation for good is love - for others and self.  The Velveteen Rabbit*  would never have become real without the love of the Boy. For me, the child was within. There was forgiveness, then love from that long-neglected child. What sealed the deal was the love given by others. When I reached out, love came from so many directions; from people whom I had never met before (or since in many cases). Without support and reassurance from them, I might never have come home from my quest. Yet, looking back now, it seems like coming home safely was inevitable; just like a novel. 

The very end of my quest involved two people rescuing each other, and that story would definitely make a wonderful fantasy fiction!

"And a tear, a real tear, trickled down his little shabby velvet nose and fell to the ground.
And then a strange thing happened. For where the tear had fallen a flower grew out of the ground, a mysterious flower, not at all like any that grew in the garden. It had slender green leaves the colour of emeralds, and in the centre of the leaves a blossom like a golden cup. It was so beautiful that the little Rabbit forgot to cry, and just lay there watching it. And presently the blossom opened, and out of it there stepped a fairy."
*The Velveteen Rabbit or How Toys Become Real,  Margery Williams

“All my life I have been wandering in the dark - but now I have found your heart - and am satisfied.”
 “And what do all the great words come to in the end, but that? - I love you - I am at rest with you - I have come home.”
Busman’s Honeymoon, Dorothy L. Sayers