Thursday, 12 August 2010

Blog Split

Hello, perhaps you are a regular reader of my cisgendered-journey? If so please add yourself as a follower and feel free to ask questions or pass comments.

It's been an incredible two years with many highs and lows. To live with a "Great love" is a blessing but to lose your children a curse.

I have decided to split the blog. My documenting of Angela' transition and it's affects on me and our loved ones can now be found at:

Transgender Love (ie this blog) will also be continued but will be a closer analysis of how I will eventually come round to understanding how my immediate familys breakdown in childhood and my father's struggles with gambling and substance abuse has impacted on my own family. My accounts of my brother's suicide my frayed relationship with my mother and my on going struggles with alcohol seem a sad tangent from the central issue of transgenderism. Hence the blog will now be divided. It seems like an obvious metaphor where I would prefer to live vicarioulsy through Angela than confront my own demons once and for all. They are legion as they are many.

Thank you everyone who who has read the blogs to date and if I have offered a positive insight to anybody and made anyone think again about the existence of third gender people then I will sleep a little easier. Or perhaps you your self have been affected by loss and become a survivor, just like me?

Fear and love are contradictory terms. Love is reckless in giving away, oblivious as to what it gets in return. Love wrestles with the world as with the self and ultimately gains mastery over all other feelings. My daily experience, as of those who are working with me, is that every problem lends itself to solution if we are determined to make the law of truth and non-violence the law of life. For truth and non-violence are, to me, faces of the same coin. The law of love will work, just as the law of gravitation will work, whether we accept it or not. Just as a scientist will work wonders out of various applications of the law of nature, even so a man who applies the law of love with scientific precision can work greater wonders. - Mahatma Gandhi

Sunday, 8 August 2010

Relaxing together the day before the big OP.

All about me

Angela is regularly asking me whether I still fancy her, does she look OK? But it's weird. I have no notion what she will look like when the swelling goes down. Prior to the op the team of surgeons where all aiming to get a result that was the same face, just softer and feminine. THE SAME FACE JUST A FEMALE VERSION... but what I am seeing five days after the op is a new face, a face I have not seen before, this is bizarre and we are talking about this a lot. I feel like I don't know this face. How would you feel if you woke up one morning and the person you loved and desired had a new face? It's unsettling and I gaze at her awake and while she sleeps and wonder how it will feel to kiss this newly feminine face. It is very very different. How will the children react when we get back? My young son is staying with Nan in Ireland for the summer holidays, he adores Angela, he does not know yet that she has had the op? I need to prepare him. I think it could be a great shock otherwise. His daughter, who is under 10, knows about the op and why it is being undertaken, but how will she feel about her beloved Daddy's new appearance? We have to be sensitive and use our time together to talk and about what all this means. Where do you find resources on this? Who can advise us? We are as a family in the dark. I hope-and if I felt that there was a god - and I'd pray that by talking honestly and openly it will be an easy transition for our family. It is more life changing I feel, than the Sex Reassignment Surgery for everyone else, as it changes our perceptions. Aesthetics are a very powerful thing.

Walking along the promenade yesterday to get Angela an Ice Cream and me a strawberry Daiquiri, I felt uncomfortable being affectionate to her in pubic and I knew exactly why. It is an old personal issue I have had...
I find it OK to be the loving partner of a transexual woman (on the margins of society, individuals who have been affected by this call it cisgendered, I don't know why) but feel a peculiar discomfort at being seen as an older lesbian.... I don't like it. it may be a cap that suits others but it doesn't feel right on me. This is not a new feeling for me, I have had relationships with women but as much as I loved those women I struggled with a lesbian identity. I just don't identify with that. I have been lying in bed at night trying to work out why? Is it internalized homophobia, is it that I want a man? Is it that I am very cerebral and analytical by nature? I feel that humanity has constructed a society with all it's structures and codes from words and the problem with that is that the world shifts and words also change in their meaning and their power. Have we built a world on the back of thought or is it all just in out heads? I find it very hard to explain what I mean because at the end of the day it's all semantics, descriptions, trying to put a definition on how I feel, who I love and how I love and if I hang the banner of say Lesbians Moms over me and Angela I feel odd... but in essence this is what we will become. I so hope we can be this and that I love her enough to accept all the words that could be used to describe what I purportedly am.

I'm experiencing a kind of quiet turmoil, that my positive feelings for Angela quell but do not erase. What will it mean for the future? I have no bloody idea! I do know that it means adapting and that my love is a living interpretive thing that can dismantle fear and piece back together things that previously got broken.

I will write more later... everything I am feeling is I think normal, when your partner has been through a life changing operation and at the end of this chapter, I know for her it is liberational and where the real person she always was can finally start taking shape and be at peace.

I just need to remember in the middle of all this is me- and beside me is Angela and what remains of my family.

Saturday, 7 August 2010

Turning the corner

After Angela had clearly got most of her balance back and was able to eat, we were given the all clear to leave. I was longing to get back to our private space and unpack in order to cook us a lovely dinner. I ended up whizzing out to the supermercado to grab essential provisions for the invalid, ie, chorizo sausage, sangria, garlic, fresh plum tomatoes, onions and anything else that someone else with a mouth with full of stitches would find hard to resist. Later in the evening I cooked it all up with pasta with liberal amounts of grated mature cheddar... and ate it she did, albeit slowly.

We are now in the convalescent stage where, we can only try to rest, ease her pain and deal with her hopes and fears as they emerge. Angela is going to add to the blog soon and talk about what she has emotionally and physically been going through. She is up and down really, laughing and giggling one minute, (One minute I'm one hell of a gorgeous trans person then hey presto I'm a panda!) then half an hour later she is tearful and down. She has felt palpable sorrow and empathy for anybody who has to have their face taken apart and reassembled. All so they can look in the mirror and feel they can walk the streets not in stealth but as just another number. Just to feel normal - like the rest of us. It is absolutely true to say that on one hand Angela and I were accepted but it is a point of fact, every time we went out people stared at us. I wish all transexual women who suffer from this dysphoria could afford this procedure. It must be a terrible curse to be the inhabitant of the incorrect physical form. Gender dysphoria is no joke, it causes divorce, alienation, suicide and horrible fears of rejection. This is NOT a choice, your gender is fixed in the womb, and no one chooses to undergo such an agressive and painfull procedure without being totally driven by the need to feel normal.

It is testament to A that everyday since the op she expressed worry for a good pal of ours Abigail who is due to also have extensive facial feminisation, concerned for how she will cope in the heat and without a partner.


So what now? She has to recover, it will take months for her to get her true strength back, i think after the bruises have faded like a post pyroclastic sunset, we will still have to put a new and different life together; although Angela disagrees with this - for her she sees life made more easy, hopefully not having to worry about putting lippy on before greeting the postman in the constant battle to remain just a number rather than a freak).

What springs to mind is:


When we got back to the apartment, we were both in better health but in a kind of malaise, Angela is very, very strong and healthy (she has never smoked and did not drink much either) but the trauma of the op has taken it's toll and she has not slept properly due to the physical discomfort and I think being in strange surroundings. It has made us both tired, we have both been having unusual vivid dreams. It has been praying heavily on her mind, whether she has made a mistake - she fears her nose is not set properly.

At 2am on our first night back in the apartment, at the toilet she noticed blood in her urine while she was urinating. This was a little worrying for her but when her urine stopped the blood didn't - there was a fairly strong flow which had completely coloured the toilet water within a minute. She was very frightened. Just before coming here there had been a series of TV programmes about botched surgery and this was foremost in her mind.

So what do you do at 2am? the inside of her penis was still bleeding (although not painful), and to be honest, had we gone to hospital, we would have sat for ages and they would not have done anything then anyway - so we waited until the blood stopped and filled her knickers with a makeshift towel and went to bed.

It was obvious to me that she had bled because the catheter had adhered to her urethra, and caused a small wound when it was removed - I remember she yelped when it was taken out. There was already some blood around her thigh even then - so we guessed that this was when the nick was probably made. It was painless but still disturbing in the wee small hours when I was mopping the blood up of the bathroom floor and then trying to make a pad out of gauze to soak up the bleeding.

In the morning Angela tentatively went to the toilet, dreading what was about to happen - she had not really slept at all, running through the various medical possibilities and ramifications all night. Keeping a tight reign on the flow, - no blood appeared. The relief was visible through those black Panda eyes - I felt like giving her a bamboo stick and a conservation certificate to cheer her up.

So we called Ana the patient co-ordinator and she got Dr Daniel to call us straight back. This bleeding was not unusual at all. The important thing was that the blood had not formed a clot and hence blockage in the tube (which would have meant an urgent op as you could not go to the toilet) - so drink lots of fluids and take it easy. This is not extraordinary.

The last 48 hours has been peculiar, both of us exhausted and me pretty much feeling helpless, just trying to ensure she eats decent food and relaxes.

Thursday, 5 August 2010

Day 1 - Airhead syndrome

We had an assessment with Dr Danial and Dr Capitan today and it was agreed without question that Angela should stay in for one more night. If she had become dizzy and fallen I would not have been strong enough to hold her - she was just not well enough to be moved.

Yesterday was a worrying day, A had noticed that her forehead felt like a freezer bag filled with slush. We assumed this was just post-op swelling.
We had not realised that all the swelling on her temple was trapped air, from the operation and not just oedema. Her brow was very "soft and squishy". The air was creating pressure, and therefore, Dr Danial, got a long thick hypodermic needle and made several holes in the top of Angela's scalp and proceeded to apply pressure to her forehead and push out the air. We could hear the air escaping. Hissing like a burst football. It was far worse for A as she got internal noise as well. It was explained that the air would have been naturally absorbed over a couple of weeks if left, but this procedure just accelerated the healing process. We were told it would not hurt as her scalp did not have a lot of sensation, but after the fifth hole was made and he was soaking up the blood with some gauze, her feet told a different story entirely as her toes started furiously wiggling.

It did hurt and I maneovred myself around the bed and held her hand she squeezed it tightly. She bled a Little from the puncture wounds and I am hoping soon to get her hair washed as the last thing she needs is an infection in those wounds. Her long hair is matted with blood, sweat and literally tears, it's going to be awkward to get it clean. I can't wait to get her all scrubbed up and sparkling again.

It was not nice for A to have the air pushed out of the wounds in the top of her head but it did reduce the swelling noticeably and Dr Danial applied strips of surgical tape to keep the forehead flat.

Dr Danial on his round did reassure us that, it was not a cause of concern and we managed to all make light of it.

Today though after her first shower the blood clots from her nose work were loosened and she tried to gently blow her nose and suddenly gasped in horror as she realised her head was noticeably inflating.
Angela was scared and as we had not had any prior knowledge of this phenomenon we were a trifle alarmed to say the least. The doctor's I think are so accustomed to this happening it did not occur to them or anyone else on the staff to tell us. It was bizarre and a real shock for Angela, as we thought something major was wrong. I on the plus side said she always was an airhead and would never need a snorkle ever again.

It was explained today when we sought advice from Dr Danial, that this was normal for any patient who has had their brow and nose bridge adjusted as an air-pocket under the forehead is a normal outcome when the sinus wall has been removed and altered so drastically. The reason for this is that the cutting of the bone to allow it to be extracted means there will not be an airtight fit when replaced into the forehead. and sitting upright whilst sleeping and the cold mask for the rest of the day would help. Anglela was instructed to NOT blow her nose but suck it up and swallow it..... yuck! If this had been properly explained yesterday A would not have got such a fright when she blew her nose.

I need to add here that we have entirely pleased so far with all the treatment and some of the smaller problems like this were well dealt with as they happened. The nursing staff were diligent and all requests, urgent or otherwise were dealt with kindly and promptly. The clinic was superb. I have shared this experience so as to give a clear picture to other transsexual women what they can expect if they are planning FFS..

As soon as the Dr's left, Angela fell into a deep sleep. The tiniest effort is utterly draining.

We will now wait for the nurse and get further blood tests, to check her haemoglobin levels and also, to get her mouth cleaned and her teeth brushed. This could be sore but something that will reduce the chance of infections in her mouth and also make her feel fresher. The catheter is coming out in the next hour and we plan to get her in the chair and enjoy a delicious ice cold orange juice.

I am so relieved that we are staying until late tomorrow and Dr Danial has prescribed extra pain medication!


A visit from Dr Kai

13.48, I popped out for a sandwich and a large cafe con leche, on my return I found Dr Kai, re-dressing Angela's nose, all the packing had been removed and he was in the process of reapplying the splint and generally cleaning up her face. The new nose looks finer, with a very gentle ski type slope, the bridge is more refined and her nostrils are smaller. He went to great lengnths to create what her refers to as the "nose tip deformity" which is a characteristic that most female noses share. Concern was expressed by A that she would not be able to pick her new nose!

A asked me to take some pics of this new stage and show her them, she is all puffy and rather grotesque, she peeps at me out of one very bloodshot eye.
"Oh Dear" she says gazing at the digital photo, her specs lightly poised on the squishy and delicate bridge of her nose.
"Yes, Love, I've had hotter dates"
She smiles at me gently and Dr Kai chuckles.

Dr Kai, did keep slipping with his pronouns though, with plenty of "he's" and "his" peppering the chat. Although he was very tender with Angela and referred to her as "My Dear", it felt very kind and not in the least bit patronising. He is extremely sexy (as some of the female staff had also noted) and reminds me of some of the lotherio type mediterannean men I have met in LA

As he went to leave his mobile rang, it was clearly "a lady", she wanted to know where he was in no uncertain terms, he placated her with the truth,
"I couldn't find you, so went to see one on my patients, I'll be there in five minutes"
We laughed together after the call:
"That was so obviously a women" said Angela
"Ah women, can't live with them, can't live without them" I laughed.
It was very funny when he replied to us with no intended irony
"Ah yes, women, I like lots of variety"
Angela and i laughed after he went,(well I laughed, A actually made muffled grunting noises like the piglet Babe), she was clearly pondering his reply.... "Do you think he meant VARIETY" ?

With no doubt, tonight will be difficult and we are going to try to get her another night's stay, as she is very dizzy. On a plus point, she ate a good portion of cold Spanish Omelette and ham and seemed nourished by the meal.

Yet again she is sleeping, her cold mask has a reassuring hum, it conceals her face and while she naps will hopefully reduce the notable swelling on her face and skull.

It's lovely and sunny outside and I'd love a glass of crisp chilled white wine. I will so deserve one!

Post Surgery Blues

12.27, Angela is sleeping fitfully,she has been in bad pain today and even the slightest movement is very difficult.
We saw the surgeon Dr Danial, yesterday and he explained the chronic swelling over her right eye was caused by heavy bleeding in the op, apparently she bled more then most people and it slowed down all the procedures and contributed to this especially nasty oedema.

We are meant to be discharged today, but I remain unconvinced that she is well enough to be moved. Even the slightest motion makes her feel very unwell, how will I get her in a cab and up into the room. She has been on intravenous pain killers for the last 36 hours; How will she cope on one tablet every 8 hours back in the hotel? I think she needs stronger medication than that. Perhaps I am fretting, all the staff feel my concern and Angela's suffering is normal after such a lengthy and aggressive procedure, but it doesn't stop me fretting.

Th nose surgeon Dr Kai o'Kay and Dr Danial are visiting at 16.00. Dr Khai is going to removing the dressing from her nose. By all accounts the removal of the "packing" from her nasal cavities is extremely painful but should offer some relief. Hopefully she will be able to breathe better. I do hope so.

Earlier I went down to the cafeteria in the Hospital as A wanted a cold fresh drink, in there I bumped into Juan the nurse. Juan attended to Angela, before the op and is a tall, typical spanish hunk, he is I think gay and such a total sweetheart, sunny and intelligent, with exceptional English language skills, my day instantly brightened when I saw him at the counter. He beamed at me and beckoned me over to sit beside him and we chatted at length about the ffs, recovery, issues of trangenderism and feeling different. I hope I see him again as I would like to invite him to Newcastle for a holiday to meet our friends. it was wonderful to see his smiling face.

For now I am sitting writing this and hoping they keep her in for another night, just for the pain to subside.

Angela's elderly Mum phoned yesterday and was tearful and concerned on the phone at how I would manage in the hotel and seemed consoled that we had an apartment not just a room. So I could cook soup and stuff for A and get her settled. I did feel though that Edith was correctly worried about such an early discharge following such a long operation.

In a week I feel confident that Angela will be feeling stronger and more comfortable. Poor poppet.

We have both noticeably lost weight, due to lack of food and worrying I think.

Wednesday, 4 August 2010

"I bet all the nurses fancy me" she rattled.

Well it was a restless night with nurses in and out, draining the catheter bag etc. She didn't stop vomiting blood clots for quite a few hours and snoring like she was on her death bed, a kind of apnoea combined with a hideous death rattle.

At 9am this morning, from the third floor room we are using, I can see the seafront with a fine dull grey coastal mist settled over the slaty waters and nodding boats. The streets are empty and it's clearly going to be a beautiful summer's day. Angela's nausea has now passed and she is just sore and exhausted. Speaking is very difficult due to the various sets of stitches inside her mouth, the constrictive effect of the dressing from the rhinoplasty (they broke her nose), her badly swollen lips and the effect of the cold mask. I can see that her brow is very different but cannot tell how good an outcome she has, we know that the jaw work will be largely invisible until, she has a facelift in six months to remove the loose skin. I can tell from the tip of her nose, peeping through bloody gauze that it is very different, smaller and repositioned.

If she was going to really suffer, then was it last night.
The clinic's nursing staff were exemplary, despite many of the girls not speaking English. It was not a problem.

I told her when she came round if she said
"I bet all the nurses fancy me"
I'd know she was a bullshitter"

She's giggled twice at my predictable jokes. All will be well.

It's just going to be a case of slowly getting her back onto oral fluids and waiting for the swelling to go down.

I'd still like a cup of tea.

Tuesday, 3 August 2010

A swell kinda night

It is 2.37 am,
she is back now, it was a long long wait, she is very poorly with a hydrating drip
a drip for nausea and a lot of pain relief,she looks car crashed, her left eye is like a plum, she is unrecognizable due to the swelling.
After vomiting blood clots for a few minutes and then being treated and cleaned up by the nurses, she started to drift in and out of sleep. it was going to be a long night...the cold mask makes a soothing hum and by all accounts will reduce the swelling in the course of the night.

I would like a cup of tea.
I have no doubt she will look a million dollars but right now she looks like a million Lira... poor Angela.

Three Magi bring great news

22.32, my stomach is in knots and my friends on Facebook are keeping me from going demented. The nurse had just told me in broken English that Angela would be another two hours.

Then ten minutes later the two maxiofaial surgeons who did her brow and chin work came to see me! All three, are young, handsome, accomplished men. They reassured me that it had all gone very well, and her frontal jaw had not needed shaving, and talked me through how they had just removed the muscle that created the fleshy pad with the dimple on her chin. All three embraced me. We chatted about the intricacies of their "work"

"You'll like her new chin" they said
"I liked it before" I replied, smiling. Feeling foolish in holiday makers red cotton shorts and t-shirt withe pen mark on it.
then feebly claimed
"As long as she is happy, I will be happy".
I feel so inutterably sad, I loved her beautiful face, I embrace her happiness but feel a sense of loss. Is this selfish of me? Probably.

They had with them a Facial surgeon from Brazil who had come to watch the procedure as a training exercise and who had offered to take pictures.

So six hours in, and Dr Kai from Granada is now starting her rhinoplasty. I feel sick with worry. I can hear a man down the corridor moaning in pain, the corridors are noisy with busy staff, rattling trolleys, rooms being moved around. Somewhere in Marbella there was an emergency today and it caused some problems, even the plastic surgeons were called to assist. If I have had a long day, God knows how tired they are.


it is 21.48 here and Angela went down to the operating room at 1600 hours, I popped out earlier for tapas and coffee and sat on the promenade and watched young people in the distance on a huge inflatable playing volleyball, they would catch the ball with their feet and flip over two or three times, then with the ease of simians, flip the ball back over the net for another young bronzed slip of youth to flick the ball back with the tips of a moving hand. I was being texted by well meaning friends and I watched every minute of time move in slow motion.

I wondered at the total carefreeness of those around me, the sun was warm - hibiscus and rhododendron where pinking the banks of earth beneath huge palm trees, it was bliss but the joy was hollow like a painted empty tin. I was just waiting and waiting to get Angela back in one piece. Safe.

5 hours now
tick tock
tick tock

Of course it's not goodbye

When we turned up today for the op, we had no room, the private hospital had been taking in emergencies, and we had to prepare in a temporary room, it was very clean and bright and well equipped, all the nursing staff, with their varying degrees of English were exceptional, but it did mean that I could not unpack or go and buy essential supplies, such as straws, medicated shampoo, rubbing alcohol. bruising cream, as I had planned. I was also very hungry and wanted a cup of coffee, to feed my caffeine addiction.

With a post it note on her willy saying (wrong procedure)Angela went down to theatre about an hour ago, she had been crying on and off all morning, and was extremely frightened, (a certain amount of drama queendom doth prevail) but it is scary and the procedures are without a doubt quite alarming. I would not like my face, sawed, and chipped and screwed back together.

In one spell of distress this morning, she was sobbing and saying, "Why does this have to be me facing this"... I comforted her, "we are the truly lucky ones"
and all I could think of was all the transgirls, out there working as sex workers or only being able to dream of the luxury of Facial Feminisation. It's a harsh reality when intrusive aggressive theater is the the only recourse to your gender dysphoria and each step seems such an extreme.

I am sitting in this empty room, listening to the Spanish nursing staff chatting brightly and speedily, and Angela is somewhere in the building getting her face taken apart, I feel afraid, and the next 6 hours seems like a long stretch and the future seems like The Russian Steppes or a great vast prairie where I know there are borders to other countries but I cannot see them, yet.

We were well prepared, we know, the next couple of days will be dark, we have spoken to other previous patients and done a lot of background research we know the team is of a high standard and she is in safe hands. She spent the last 48 hours writing a long letter to her daughter, just in case the worse things happens....which we know won't happen, but t doesn't stop the fear I suppose...

I just don't like to think of Angela in pain, she is my best friend... I have a two bride wedding blessing to arrange and I want her to look like the happiest woman in the world. I want her to look in the mirror and say

"Look that's actually me".

Pre-op procedures and palm trees

We flew out to Marbella on Sunday lunchtime with Easy jet, it was an uneventful flight and Angela and I barely spoke, we were reading, Angela was immersed in A life in two genders by Jenny Boylan and I in a memoir of Catholic misery called The God Squad by Paddy Doyle... ironically both books concern remarkable journeys made by brave individuals who have been marginalised by society and through no fault of their own..... Paddy and Jenny both speak out in order to help others who are affected by "issues of otherness". Angela and I are going ahead with this difficult chapter of her life as she cannot live as The Outsider - feeling different is not a cause for celebration in the aisles of ASDA or in a swimming pool when Joe Normal is scrutinising you.

We have both been quiet, and Angela, has been teary and fearful, I imagine it is the tension, a fear of an unsatisfactory outcome, a dread of pain...we are going through the same process as any normal couple would follow for a romantic sunshine and sangria type holiday, double checking passports, caryying round vats of sun block... except that is not the purpose of the trip; our aim is to get Angela's face feminised. (please see previous blogs for details of the surgery)

On Sunday night, we walked along the seafront, with all the Spanish holiday makers, it was a text book seaside idyll, the Mediterranean smells of lemon, garlicky seafood and olive oil. the sound of the sea, rolling like the chants of time, surging over and over. The breeze warm and balmy. Sitting at a low key sea front cafe, later in the evening, amidst dowdy, stern faced Spanish Matriarchs and young Spanish well mannered families on the beach. We were drinking San Miguel and eating paella, several times as we walked through the langerous and laid back crowds we overheard people whisper "Hombre", we felt like any two women alone, but this type of snipe and the the occasional quizzical glances belied the fact we were not like any other couple.

We talked late into the evening about what would happen if she died, where I would go and whether I would cope. We talked of our lives so far and what we hoped for. We seem to be so overshadowed by this Spectre of transgenderism, it consumes and pre occupies us, never one thing or another. It has created a kind of life dysphoria, which we have to negotiate and engage with. If you placed The angel of The North on our patio it would command less of a presence than the chimera of transgenderism.

Monday was taken up with x-rays (revealing a previously undiagnosed clear scoliosis of the spine), bloodtests, CTI scans and assessments with firstly the anesthetist and then two of the three surgeons who would undertake the surgery. Dr Daniel and Dr Kai. Angela has such a beautiful face, with hight cheek bones, and large mossy green eyes, a very dignified nose and full soft lips, her hair is naturally long and dark blond, with the odd strand of silver grey, like shafts of light. It seem strange for the surgeons, to analyse her face and talk about certain deformities, a slight lean of her nose, her widows peaks, the thickness of her noses bridge. I sat in silence, knowing I could never say, "what the hell are you talking about, I love that fucking face".... i would keep her forever as she is, and not change one thing, but that I know would be selfish of me, and if she was happy with her male features then she would not be mine.

We made love in the hotel room, yesterday, and i draped soft silk sleeping gowns over her body and kissed her face knowing it would be the last time, and from hence forth, she would be the same person I loved but yet again transformed. She hopes I will love her just the same, and I hope that my feelings remain the same despite her anatomy.

oops battery running low, to be continued and corrected later.

Love to all