With a stretched motorwayed chasm between us and a bottle quaffed it's unwise to type and press return, but Tillie is prone to confessional outpourings and immune to the tuts of imagined outsiders or concerned friends.
I want to be somewhere else and for it all to be easier.
I want to be in our special intimate place, in our silky nighties, where gender is disregarded and we are just lovers and friends, smiling in the half light.
And not here remembering our last meeting and trying to reduce the magnitude of it for other people, to be owned but not disown others.
Who doesn't long to be understood and valued? It's a universal longing, I'm not alone in my yearnings. I want to be conjoined, to be adult and emotionally carefree.
I want to sit beside her, pull her to me and place my temple to her temple and know we are two people together in a vast populous who seek an informed closeness.
There are some bridges that are monumental in there construction and that I am the architect of future designs, for my happiness, that I need to garner every resource. I don't feel tough but know I am.
My ramblings are a chaotic love letter to Angela.
In a world of strange pressures, my fingers will apply weird and irregular pressures to her flesh, and the braille of my touch is a language of tender words that speaks love. I know every love is new, but silly Tillie believes that perhaps you can love and be loved in return. The pads of my fingertips tenderly seek your pleasure and say let me please you.
"We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community."
Dorothy Day
Thursday 28 January 2010
Tuesday 26 January 2010
Birthday celebrations and life's deliberations
It was my 46th birthday on Saturday night and it was arranged that a gang of us would hook up in The Gay Village in Manchester and trip the light fantastic and indulge in some fine dining. Lots of my TV girlfriends were coming along and it was going to be a well needed break from bickering kids, domestic boredom and late night dipsomania.
The day got off to a poor start with me getting fractious and annoyed with my ex husband (Baldprick) on my doorstep. This was my first husband and the only guy I married, it was only due to the fact I got pregnant that I married him. He is the biggest mistake I ever made, after having the kids he evolved into a violent weed smoking pervert who was unable to hold down a job. The only good thing to come out of it was the children.
It had been planned that Angela, myself and the four children (3 of mine, 1 of hers) would enjoy Holy Holly Day in Nantwich which is a very noisy and exciting re-enactment of a battle from the English Civil War and then on for Cake and Ice Cream in a local cafe. The children were all up early and excited! Anyway Baldprick turned up without prior warning, he had not been to see them for two weeks, and is always late, to take my two eldest children out (and to prepare them their Holy Communion in the Summer) and would not relent despite it being my birthday and neither of the children wanting to go with him. Despite my daughter's tears of disappointment, he demanded he take them. I am tired of my 11 year old daughter feeling traumatised about seeing her father and think I will seek legal advice. I should not hate him so intensely but he is an aggressive arrogant little Napoleon. After he left I felt agitated and angry with myself for letting this jerk rattle my cage. It makes me start seeking revenge and engenders feelings in me that I deplore in others. I know this seems vengeful and dark but my hatred and loathing of him is so deep seated I cannot shake it.
Anyway, Angela decided that we would head off at noon with the two youngest children and make the most of it. It was very enjoyable being together, and her boy disguise was nothing short of genius, even with her natural, sandy blond, long hair, pierced ears, smooth face and painted finger nails she looks quite boyish. I'll always love that boy in her, somehow it makes her completely perfect as a human being, so many polars drawn together, male to female, straight to gay, drawn into my beautiful girlfriend, she is many contradictions yet a magnetizing unison to me. My Prism.
Johnny animal, 20 stone of babysitter, was duly recruited, knowing that whilst Angie and I were out clubbing the kids and Johnnie would all be having fun playing video games and eating junk.
We drove to Manchester and were in high spirits, I was feeling a lot of love, optimism and very secure, both of us boppy and upbeat despite tiredness and our loss of sexual activity in recent weeks (Angie has been taking hormones as she starts her physical transition to be a woman). We were being boisterous and playful in our room in The Ibis and generally wrestling and teasing one another,liking each other a lot. A loss of the sex has been replaced by increased affection and sensuality. The sense of fun remaining. Although if her habit of chucking cold water at me in the shower persists I will deploy battle type strategies to thoroughly soak her when she least expects it!!! Tillie Warmbath ain't going to be Tillie Coldbath and rollover!
Angela picked a short youthful black satin Lipsy dress with killer black velvet heels.
I wore a more mature 1940's Pillarbox red A-line Chiffon dress that showed my curves and made the most of the fact my weight has increased after numerous over indulgences with Angela (oh those Nachos are soooo good) and my increased penchant for red wine (slurp slurp yeah). Joking aside I know I have some pronounced dependencies right now but all will fall back into place when I return to work.
The evening started well, with a delicious meal in the wonderful Villagios washed down with several glasses of Pinot Grigio. The conversation was mercurial and witty in the company of JaneG, Abicat, and Louise, three of my favourite people and all trans in one way or another. (I'll post a pic later if I can). I was totally happy with those I loved, and was delighted to get a gift of beads from the girls to add to my burgeoning bead collection. Thank you ladies. I felt special and Angela looked beautiful as usual. The terrific teeny trans girls from North Wales rolled in, with an air of expensive cologne and exquisite girlish dress sense, all of them young and looking a million dollars... "I am so jealous of their youth" commentated Angela, and I saw in her a rare regret that she could not have been her true self when she was younger. Anyway the hours for dancing were looming and we were keen despite our arthritic inclinations and sensitive dispositions!
I did not see it coming but Tillie had a tantrum looming that was born of several niggles that had been accumulating in recent times.
After the meal we decided to go for a dance and some more drinks. Me and the girls went into View, a spacious and young venue which is predominantly frequented by young dykes, the atmosphere is young and lively, standing on a balcony overlooking the dance floor, I watched a sea of young girls having great time, I felt too old to be there and a touch uncomfortable... I became aware in the corner of the room, a middle aged woman signaling and grinning at Angela, summoning her to come over, this is not unusual behaviour in the village as Real Women always make a fuss of the transvestites, requesting to have their picture taken with them, as they see it novel and amusing. Angela, checked with me subtly and went over, I watched Angela, laughing and giggling whispering into the woman' ear, her face close to the woman's hair, flirting, one of my friends said to me "What the hell is she playing at?" Several times Angela, came over to me, telling me she loved me and asking for me "permission" to flirt on, I felt really unhappy, it was something I have frequently seen her do. From a distance I watched a group of young girls taking pictures of my TV pals and Angela, she was loving the attention, all drunk laughing at the hilarity of the siutation, one of the group asked me to take pictures but not to join them. I find it annoying that my friends are a tourist attrtaction, or freaks to most of these girls, a bit of cross dressed totty to spice up the evening's pissed up piccies. My girlfriend is not a transvestite, she is transitioning to become a woman in her own right, I am living a more complex life so she can be free, I do this willingly as I love her and no other, but feel annoyed when others treat her like a novelty. Angela is a champion flirt and I felt disprespected and unattractive.
I won't go one but I threw my cards on the table and told Angie, how I felt and became hard nosed and bitchy, I was hurt and felt the heavy weight of all our trans issues bearing down on me. She was sorry and earnest in her apologies and we talked late into the night thrashing out the issues that were so upsetting to me, for me to feel secure and to accept that her flirting is based on a desperate need to be ONE OF THE GIRLS and not to actually bed any of the girls. Old insecurites in both of us die hard. I love her and do not wish her to change from the crazy party girl that I fell for. Sorry hun.
The day got off to a poor start with me getting fractious and annoyed with my ex husband (Baldprick) on my doorstep. This was my first husband and the only guy I married, it was only due to the fact I got pregnant that I married him. He is the biggest mistake I ever made, after having the kids he evolved into a violent weed smoking pervert who was unable to hold down a job. The only good thing to come out of it was the children.
It had been planned that Angela, myself and the four children (3 of mine, 1 of hers) would enjoy Holy Holly Day in Nantwich which is a very noisy and exciting re-enactment of a battle from the English Civil War and then on for Cake and Ice Cream in a local cafe. The children were all up early and excited! Anyway Baldprick turned up without prior warning, he had not been to see them for two weeks, and is always late, to take my two eldest children out (and to prepare them their Holy Communion in the Summer) and would not relent despite it being my birthday and neither of the children wanting to go with him. Despite my daughter's tears of disappointment, he demanded he take them. I am tired of my 11 year old daughter feeling traumatised about seeing her father and think I will seek legal advice. I should not hate him so intensely but he is an aggressive arrogant little Napoleon. After he left I felt agitated and angry with myself for letting this jerk rattle my cage. It makes me start seeking revenge and engenders feelings in me that I deplore in others. I know this seems vengeful and dark but my hatred and loathing of him is so deep seated I cannot shake it.
Anyway, Angela decided that we would head off at noon with the two youngest children and make the most of it. It was very enjoyable being together, and her boy disguise was nothing short of genius, even with her natural, sandy blond, long hair, pierced ears, smooth face and painted finger nails she looks quite boyish. I'll always love that boy in her, somehow it makes her completely perfect as a human being, so many polars drawn together, male to female, straight to gay, drawn into my beautiful girlfriend, she is many contradictions yet a magnetizing unison to me. My Prism.
Johnny animal, 20 stone of babysitter, was duly recruited, knowing that whilst Angie and I were out clubbing the kids and Johnnie would all be having fun playing video games and eating junk.
We drove to Manchester and were in high spirits, I was feeling a lot of love, optimism and very secure, both of us boppy and upbeat despite tiredness and our loss of sexual activity in recent weeks (Angie has been taking hormones as she starts her physical transition to be a woman). We were being boisterous and playful in our room in The Ibis and generally wrestling and teasing one another,liking each other a lot. A loss of the sex has been replaced by increased affection and sensuality. The sense of fun remaining. Although if her habit of chucking cold water at me in the shower persists I will deploy battle type strategies to thoroughly soak her when she least expects it!!! Tillie Warmbath ain't going to be Tillie Coldbath and rollover!
Angela picked a short youthful black satin Lipsy dress with killer black velvet heels.
I wore a more mature 1940's Pillarbox red A-line Chiffon dress that showed my curves and made the most of the fact my weight has increased after numerous over indulgences with Angela (oh those Nachos are soooo good) and my increased penchant for red wine (slurp slurp yeah). Joking aside I know I have some pronounced dependencies right now but all will fall back into place when I return to work.
The evening started well, with a delicious meal in the wonderful Villagios washed down with several glasses of Pinot Grigio. The conversation was mercurial and witty in the company of JaneG, Abicat, and Louise, three of my favourite people and all trans in one way or another. (I'll post a pic later if I can). I was totally happy with those I loved, and was delighted to get a gift of beads from the girls to add to my burgeoning bead collection. Thank you ladies. I felt special and Angela looked beautiful as usual. The terrific teeny trans girls from North Wales rolled in, with an air of expensive cologne and exquisite girlish dress sense, all of them young and looking a million dollars... "I am so jealous of their youth" commentated Angela, and I saw in her a rare regret that she could not have been her true self when she was younger. Anyway the hours for dancing were looming and we were keen despite our arthritic inclinations and sensitive dispositions!
I did not see it coming but Tillie had a tantrum looming that was born of several niggles that had been accumulating in recent times.
After the meal we decided to go for a dance and some more drinks. Me and the girls went into View, a spacious and young venue which is predominantly frequented by young dykes, the atmosphere is young and lively, standing on a balcony overlooking the dance floor, I watched a sea of young girls having great time, I felt too old to be there and a touch uncomfortable... I became aware in the corner of the room, a middle aged woman signaling and grinning at Angela, summoning her to come over, this is not unusual behaviour in the village as Real Women always make a fuss of the transvestites, requesting to have their picture taken with them, as they see it novel and amusing. Angela, checked with me subtly and went over, I watched Angela, laughing and giggling whispering into the woman' ear, her face close to the woman's hair, flirting, one of my friends said to me "What the hell is she playing at?" Several times Angela, came over to me, telling me she loved me and asking for me "permission" to flirt on, I felt really unhappy, it was something I have frequently seen her do. From a distance I watched a group of young girls taking pictures of my TV pals and Angela, she was loving the attention, all drunk laughing at the hilarity of the siutation, one of the group asked me to take pictures but not to join them. I find it annoying that my friends are a tourist attrtaction, or freaks to most of these girls, a bit of cross dressed totty to spice up the evening's pissed up piccies. My girlfriend is not a transvestite, she is transitioning to become a woman in her own right, I am living a more complex life so she can be free, I do this willingly as I love her and no other, but feel annoyed when others treat her like a novelty. Angela is a champion flirt and I felt disprespected and unattractive.
I won't go one but I threw my cards on the table and told Angie, how I felt and became hard nosed and bitchy, I was hurt and felt the heavy weight of all our trans issues bearing down on me. She was sorry and earnest in her apologies and we talked late into the night thrashing out the issues that were so upsetting to me, for me to feel secure and to accept that her flirting is based on a desperate need to be ONE OF THE GIRLS and not to actually bed any of the girls. Old insecurites in both of us die hard. I love her and do not wish her to change from the crazy party girl that I fell for. Sorry hun.
Wednesday 20 January 2010
Shifting Sands
Things are changing between me and Angela, from our constant assertions that living 200 miles apart suits our "lifestyles" it is now increasingly difficult to say goodbye when we do part. I crave her at night and for all the love I have for my children, I have a separate more sensual love for her. It's surely not a weakness to miss someone and admit you seek their love and approval? We have decided we need to breach the gap between us and at some point I will yet again relocate... this is a huge life changing decision, but one thing is for sure, this time I am not taking a risk and this time I am not going to screw up.
Angela and I have been exploring options, looking at houses online that would be suitable for me rent in Newcastle upon Tyne. This is a step that needs to be taken as we want to be together as much as possible. It is agreed that we will not live together, this is my choice as I feel my three children would put too much strain on our relationship. I would move tomorrow, but I seem to be the perpetual nomad I have been moving all my life and with the exception of moving to Ireland to study, I always move for love. This time I need to weigh up all the pro's and con's see whether I can afford to pay rent etc, see whether my own irrationality will yet again cost me. I am guilty of being impulsive, I was diagnosed with ADD in my late twenties and need to step back and THINK.
Considerations
My eldest boy, is reluctant to move, he has Asperger's Syndrome and dislikes change, we only moved two years ago from Sussex and he has been through a lot of upheaval. It's a toughie. He says he likes his school here and that he will make me happy, he is concerned his friends will discover his mother is involved in a queer relationship with a transsexual, after only recently learning how to dispel bullies he fears my emotional choices will yet again thrust him back into a Lion's Den of humiliation and bias. (He tells me he is not homophobic, but if he intimates this to his peers he will be skinned). He could live with his Nana and carry on with his studies but my 13 year old son wants me to stay here with him and wait another four years till I move (when he plans to go to Uni). This hurts but whatever I decide it will be a sacrifice either way. Loving Angela makes me feel like a selfish parent. I am not sure how to address this. I love everyone concerned. I have told Josh that no concrete decision needs to be made until late summer.
Patterns
I am repeating an old pattern, I can see it, I am yet again moving for love, is this going to be the last time, where I finally meet someone who is not going to turn into a violent controlling bully? I am not motivated by money I just seek basic levels of love and happiness. I feel afraid of fucking up. I'm not sure. Angela has spent 12 months struggling to find feelings of love and now she is transitioning these emotions seem to be surfacing... what if it is the hormones affecting her emotionally. What if I am not really loved? For now I cannot risk it. I need to see Angela through her transition then, we can decide.
Honesty is a painful thing I have learnt but preferable to the heartache of deception and denials.
I need to be patient
Listen to my head and not follow my heart.
Me and the children deserve acceptance, love and security,
as does Angela.
Angela and I have been exploring options, looking at houses online that would be suitable for me rent in Newcastle upon Tyne. This is a step that needs to be taken as we want to be together as much as possible. It is agreed that we will not live together, this is my choice as I feel my three children would put too much strain on our relationship. I would move tomorrow, but I seem to be the perpetual nomad I have been moving all my life and with the exception of moving to Ireland to study, I always move for love. This time I need to weigh up all the pro's and con's see whether I can afford to pay rent etc, see whether my own irrationality will yet again cost me. I am guilty of being impulsive, I was diagnosed with ADD in my late twenties and need to step back and THINK.
Considerations
My eldest boy, is reluctant to move, he has Asperger's Syndrome and dislikes change, we only moved two years ago from Sussex and he has been through a lot of upheaval. It's a toughie. He says he likes his school here and that he will make me happy, he is concerned his friends will discover his mother is involved in a queer relationship with a transsexual, after only recently learning how to dispel bullies he fears my emotional choices will yet again thrust him back into a Lion's Den of humiliation and bias. (He tells me he is not homophobic, but if he intimates this to his peers he will be skinned). He could live with his Nana and carry on with his studies but my 13 year old son wants me to stay here with him and wait another four years till I move (when he plans to go to Uni). This hurts but whatever I decide it will be a sacrifice either way. Loving Angela makes me feel like a selfish parent. I am not sure how to address this. I love everyone concerned. I have told Josh that no concrete decision needs to be made until late summer.
Patterns
I am repeating an old pattern, I can see it, I am yet again moving for love, is this going to be the last time, where I finally meet someone who is not going to turn into a violent controlling bully? I am not motivated by money I just seek basic levels of love and happiness. I feel afraid of fucking up. I'm not sure. Angela has spent 12 months struggling to find feelings of love and now she is transitioning these emotions seem to be surfacing... what if it is the hormones affecting her emotionally. What if I am not really loved? For now I cannot risk it. I need to see Angela through her transition then, we can decide.
Honesty is a painful thing I have learnt but preferable to the heartache of deception and denials.
I need to be patient
Listen to my head and not follow my heart.
Me and the children deserve acceptance, love and security,
as does Angela.
Sunday 17 January 2010
Zapping Mama!
There was I bored and skint, last Thursday, feeling morose to say the least ! Ah poor Tillie-No-Mates! Anyway Angela suggested a sponsored trip to hers, I was to organise the babysitter and jump on the affectionately called Trans Pennine Sexpress- she would treat me to a little Rest and Relaxation with her in the penthouse! So after a quick call to Nan to take my youngest and my babysitter the caring adn reliable Uncle Ernie aka Johnnie Animal, albeit ex LSD and ecstasy fiend and occasional hedonist for my eldest Hobbits, I was all set to be on my way. The plan being that I would kill two birds with one stone, as Angie's boobs are growing nicely now and and are in urgent need of de-fluffing with her Intense Pulse Light Machine. I could zap all her inaccessible places (and I am referring to her back and not her bollocks before you get carried away) I'm more than happy with her imminent breast development - but hairy mammaries, NO way!
Last Summer Angie went to great time and expense to buy a state of the art IPL machine. as she had been flying from Newcastle upon Tyne to Southampton to have her beard treated by this remarkable laser therapy. it was very very expensive, especially with the additional hotel and travels costs. Although never one to miss an opportunity she would combine the trips with a chance to explore the new magical world of a born again Angela....clubbing and exploring the nightclubs of the South Coast. Hence to save the time and cash she bought her own IPL machine - it would pay for itself and would be a nice little business opportunity when she was smooth all over!
There's nothing like the smell of burning hair and stale dandruff to have Angela and I brimming with optimism for the future.
So we had a very rewarding albeit hurty session on Saturday where, goggles on and Angela prostrated on her blue treatment coach i would smear her with ultrasound gel and get to work, I feel no apprehension in inflicting the pain of it on her as I know she longs to be feminine and hairless. It's such fun, in my huge green goggles, high heels, yellow bikini, laser in hand, to feel like the beauty therapist from Hell!
It was a special two days, of connecting and looking to the future together and look at ways to start a business opportunities. On the journey up to my private Nirvana with Angela I had met two enthusiastic guys on their way back from a business conference where they had been planning the UK launch of a new eco friendly health product MOnvaVie that was a Multi Level Marketing opportunity. I was interested in this antioxidant drink (made from Acai berries) as normally with businesses chances like this they are normally well established in your country so you cannot get high enough up in the tree to really financially benefit from the distributors you recruit and the products like Herbal life aren't that hot. I decided to arrange a meeting with the guys with me And Angela at a hotel in Newcastle as we are always looking at ways to increase the frock fund! We decided after a lot of research that we would run with it and get involved! The next twelve months was starting to look a lot more challenging!
Also on Thursday morning I had had a phone call out of the blue offering me a job interview- finally another chance for me to escape my fevered cabin.
Although a price was to be paid for Tillie's life in the fast lane!
My mother is inclined to the odd psychotic episode and had decided to blow a gasket on the afternoon of my return, ( my crime being that my train was delayed by poor weather and my mobile was out of order..) just the normal stuff, telling the babysitter I was the whore from Hell, swearing in front of the kids and making false accusations of prostitution and parental neglect, she also foolishly insulted Angela over the phone (who she thinks of as a boy and who she has not yet met), She has a Ph.D in Martyrdom and self-flagellation and like most sociopaths is a good Catholic Woman filled with a forever burning Fire and Brimstone- Poor Johnny Animal was so traumatised that in the course of his later afternoon nap, taken after quaffing too much cocoa and caffeine that my Mother in a Cape Fear-esque type scenario appeared in a nightmare as a female Michael Ryan with a sawn off shotgun in hand and was stalking him in the name of The Lord! Her intent to make Johnny beg forgiveness for his role in my moral degradation. Waking with a jolt poor Johnnie was truly quite alarmed!
Angela was so annoyed by my mothers profanities and threats that unbeknownst to me, she got in the car and was driving down to Cheshire to confront her get an apology and face to face and to tell her She was transsexual and Tillie and her good self where planning a lesbian Wedding that would be on the front page of the local Chronicle! The shock would hopefully render my mother permanently speechless. Luckily I managed to dissuade Angela from her confrontation, but I suspect storm clouds are gathering over my mother's bijoux Bungalow of Hate.
Last Summer Angie went to great time and expense to buy a state of the art IPL machine. as she had been flying from Newcastle upon Tyne to Southampton to have her beard treated by this remarkable laser therapy. it was very very expensive, especially with the additional hotel and travels costs. Although never one to miss an opportunity she would combine the trips with a chance to explore the new magical world of a born again Angela....clubbing and exploring the nightclubs of the South Coast. Hence to save the time and cash she bought her own IPL machine - it would pay for itself and would be a nice little business opportunity when she was smooth all over!
There's nothing like the smell of burning hair and stale dandruff to have Angela and I brimming with optimism for the future.
So we had a very rewarding albeit hurty session on Saturday where, goggles on and Angela prostrated on her blue treatment coach i would smear her with ultrasound gel and get to work, I feel no apprehension in inflicting the pain of it on her as I know she longs to be feminine and hairless. It's such fun, in my huge green goggles, high heels, yellow bikini, laser in hand, to feel like the beauty therapist from Hell!
It was a special two days, of connecting and looking to the future together and look at ways to start a business opportunities. On the journey up to my private Nirvana with Angela I had met two enthusiastic guys on their way back from a business conference where they had been planning the UK launch of a new eco friendly health product MOnvaVie that was a Multi Level Marketing opportunity. I was interested in this antioxidant drink (made from Acai berries) as normally with businesses chances like this they are normally well established in your country so you cannot get high enough up in the tree to really financially benefit from the distributors you recruit and the products like Herbal life aren't that hot. I decided to arrange a meeting with the guys with me And Angela at a hotel in Newcastle as we are always looking at ways to increase the frock fund! We decided after a lot of research that we would run with it and get involved! The next twelve months was starting to look a lot more challenging!
Also on Thursday morning I had had a phone call out of the blue offering me a job interview- finally another chance for me to escape my fevered cabin.
Although a price was to be paid for Tillie's life in the fast lane!
My mother is inclined to the odd psychotic episode and had decided to blow a gasket on the afternoon of my return, ( my crime being that my train was delayed by poor weather and my mobile was out of order..) just the normal stuff, telling the babysitter I was the whore from Hell, swearing in front of the kids and making false accusations of prostitution and parental neglect, she also foolishly insulted Angela over the phone (who she thinks of as a boy and who she has not yet met), She has a Ph.D in Martyrdom and self-flagellation and like most sociopaths is a good Catholic Woman filled with a forever burning Fire and Brimstone- Poor Johnny Animal was so traumatised that in the course of his later afternoon nap, taken after quaffing too much cocoa and caffeine that my Mother in a Cape Fear-esque type scenario appeared in a nightmare as a female Michael Ryan with a sawn off shotgun in hand and was stalking him in the name of The Lord! Her intent to make Johnny beg forgiveness for his role in my moral degradation. Waking with a jolt poor Johnnie was truly quite alarmed!
Angela was so annoyed by my mothers profanities and threats that unbeknownst to me, she got in the car and was driving down to Cheshire to confront her get an apology and face to face and to tell her She was transsexual and Tillie and her good self where planning a lesbian Wedding that would be on the front page of the local Chronicle! The shock would hopefully render my mother permanently speechless. Luckily I managed to dissuade Angela from her confrontation, but I suspect storm clouds are gathering over my mother's bijoux Bungalow of Hate.
Wednesday 13 January 2010
Dull Days and self encouragement
"once again, can't figure out how to post a comment on your blog without signing up for another account of some sort. So, here is my comment to your blog:
Thanks, Tillie. You've pulled back the curtains to your very intimate boudoir, and allowed me to witness willingly but using mindfulness and without a sense of empty voyeurism. Teaching and enlightenment. You have a gift. love A (in Canada).
It is comments like this that make me think that writing the blog is of use and will help others make sense of what is in essence the nonsense of life. It is of importance to me to let people know that my queer love is very very normal whilst I know seemingly very exceptional.
The snow fell heavily again last night, it makes the carless Tillie in me reluctant to leave the house, as I only own footwear of a frivolous or chilly kind. I spent the entire day in bed. Ignoring all the practical and domestic jobs I need to attend to. The harsh weather a cold symbol for my insularity and lack of outward expression. Stuck in a cold stasis. I need to get tough and get out there. The book business is slow right now, and my role as sole provider is lacking a glow of warm and loving domesticity as the bills fall through the door and all three children crave the gadgets and designer clothing of their wealthier peers. Just as Angela tired of going through the motions of acting like a man, I need to become the energetic, creative woman I used to enjoy being. I feel like a half a person and I want to buck myself up. Being maudlin and miserable are characteristics I detest in my self and it is going to stop!
I have been tired and in the doldrums for weeks and need to seriously galvanise myself into action, my only focus at time seems to be Angela's tran-journey and the kids. I am insular and feeling horribly drained... I've been hitting the bottle late at night and I'm all run down again. A plan of great intent and magnitude is called for... it will involve seriously getting my finger out.I need an external focus outside of the home. Other people.
Lets face the major issues here:
Issue: Tillie is bored and wishes she was apple pie Mom... but she never will be.
Action: Go to the job centre and check out the local college website / Go utterly mad and contact Keele University about doing her Ph.d (Continuing her interest in Gender and sexuality).
Issue: You drink too much too often:
Action.... stop again...and again? I know Iam in the company of numerous other women who drink way too much but they won't articulate that or like me struggle to resist that most delicioous of coshes. I think i need to go into rehab (as my GP suggested) to be honest but who will look after my kids. This a real tough one for me and some real support and soul searching needs to be done and probably over a large class of Pinot Grigio when all the kids are safely asleep. The wine late at night is making me fat- this could be a real morivator to stop or seriouosly cut down.
Make a list of your priorities and do a to do list. These actions work. Focus and look to your blessings.
An internet comnnection will be taking me for walk in The Peak District on Sunday and this feels like a good oppurtunity to blow the cobwebs off and recall how fucking beautiful this planet is and to be here seems as good a reason as any to love others and be true unto myself.
The alcohol abuse really makes my writing dull, the words cloying and tacky, I know my full potential is being severly hampered by my own exhaustion and sluggishness.
I'll bounce back.
Thanks, Tillie. You've pulled back the curtains to your very intimate boudoir, and allowed me to witness willingly but using mindfulness and without a sense of empty voyeurism. Teaching and enlightenment. You have a gift. love A (in Canada).
It is comments like this that make me think that writing the blog is of use and will help others make sense of what is in essence the nonsense of life. It is of importance to me to let people know that my queer love is very very normal whilst I know seemingly very exceptional.
The snow fell heavily again last night, it makes the carless Tillie in me reluctant to leave the house, as I only own footwear of a frivolous or chilly kind. I spent the entire day in bed. Ignoring all the practical and domestic jobs I need to attend to. The harsh weather a cold symbol for my insularity and lack of outward expression. Stuck in a cold stasis. I need to get tough and get out there. The book business is slow right now, and my role as sole provider is lacking a glow of warm and loving domesticity as the bills fall through the door and all three children crave the gadgets and designer clothing of their wealthier peers. Just as Angela tired of going through the motions of acting like a man, I need to become the energetic, creative woman I used to enjoy being. I feel like a half a person and I want to buck myself up. Being maudlin and miserable are characteristics I detest in my self and it is going to stop!
I have been tired and in the doldrums for weeks and need to seriously galvanise myself into action, my only focus at time seems to be Angela's tran-journey and the kids. I am insular and feeling horribly drained... I've been hitting the bottle late at night and I'm all run down again. A plan of great intent and magnitude is called for... it will involve seriously getting my finger out.I need an external focus outside of the home. Other people.
Lets face the major issues here:
Issue: Tillie is bored and wishes she was apple pie Mom... but she never will be.
Action: Go to the job centre and check out the local college website / Go utterly mad and contact Keele University about doing her Ph.d (Continuing her interest in Gender and sexuality).
Issue: You drink too much too often:
Action.... stop again...and again? I know Iam in the company of numerous other women who drink way too much but they won't articulate that or like me struggle to resist that most delicioous of coshes. I think i need to go into rehab (as my GP suggested) to be honest but who will look after my kids. This a real tough one for me and some real support and soul searching needs to be done and probably over a large class of Pinot Grigio when all the kids are safely asleep. The wine late at night is making me fat- this could be a real morivator to stop or seriouosly cut down.
Make a list of your priorities and do a to do list. These actions work. Focus and look to your blessings.
An internet comnnection will be taking me for walk in The Peak District on Sunday and this feels like a good oppurtunity to blow the cobwebs off and recall how fucking beautiful this planet is and to be here seems as good a reason as any to love others and be true unto myself.
The alcohol abuse really makes my writing dull, the words cloying and tacky, I know my full potential is being severly hampered by my own exhaustion and sluggishness.
I'll bounce back.
Tuesday 12 January 2010
Good times in the Penthouse
... look through my magic telescope, Angela has just collected Tillie from Newcastle railway station, they have been apart for ten days, they live 198 miles apart. See them, there! They look like two hippy chicks. Tall aren't they? They are returning to Angela's penthouse flat, they are an attractive and very striking pair of women. "
In the lift Tillie is deliberately body echoing Angela's aloof unaffectionate body language. It is a process that Tillie learnt from studying NLP, Till leans again the wall with her hands behind her back, copying Angela's stance, she looks away from her, Angela looks a little nervous and by the 6th floor grabs Tillie, she does not like her being even slightly stand offish, Tillie has shown her silently what others feel when they experience her, she grabs Tillie and embraces "It's so good to see you Till" Three months ago Angela would not have been so loving. But she is learning.
Entering the flat, there are large cardboard boxes, unhung pictures, stacks of china, she has never properly unpacked with the exception of her girl apparel which is beautifully arranged and carefully hanging in the huge mirrored wardrobe that Angela built to protect her hundreds of beautiful feminine dresses. Her boy clothes are unkempt and unironed thrown about the place- there is a complete disregard and disinterest in what she deems to be her Drab. The flat is total chaos, TIllie gave up trying to tidy it months ago, "Welcome home Hun" Angela pushes Tillie up against the sink, her pelvis squared to Tillie, hse feels Angela's cock stiffening beneath the blue satin of her skirt, an anticipatory frission of lust, swells within "It's so mega to have you back" She feels small and owned within Angela's long smooth warm limbs. They look into each others heavily made up eyes and scan each others faces, She adores Angela's perfect features and large, long lashed blue eyes. They are both looking to remember what may have been forgotten of each other in their absence "I need to zap your 'tache Tillster" They both laugh "Your 'orrible sometimes Meanie pants" in mock offence says Tillie.
Angela earns herself a playful slap on the arm. They will stand and hold each other just smiling.
The sink is filled with unwashed pots and pans, every surface in the flat is dirty and covered with make up costume jewellery, odd stockings, bills, receipts, an assortment of jazzy expensive handbags. It is a complete example of Angela's ability to only focus on what she enjoys doing. Tidying and being orderly are an alien concept it would seem.
"Now you sit down, I'll pour you a drink, you know you want one Subby" she mocks, she moves a pile of crumpled laundry and places it precariously on a pile of what is hopefully clean ladies lingerie and underwear. "Let me show you what i bought" Together they love to look at Angela's new clothes fresh from that endless shopping Mecca Ebay, Angela will give a TIllie a fashion show, much to Tillie's obvious glee......They say they are not in love but I think they are.
After dinner they will put on their matching red satin nighties and snuggle under a duvet watching Battlestar Gallactica and they will be in their favourite most treasured zone... two girls cuddled up on the sofa just happy to be together. Tillie's dipsomania disappears when she is in her caccoon with Angela,
In the lift Tillie is deliberately body echoing Angela's aloof unaffectionate body language. It is a process that Tillie learnt from studying NLP, Till leans again the wall with her hands behind her back, copying Angela's stance, she looks away from her, Angela looks a little nervous and by the 6th floor grabs Tillie, she does not like her being even slightly stand offish, Tillie has shown her silently what others feel when they experience her, she grabs Tillie and embraces "It's so good to see you Till" Three months ago Angela would not have been so loving. But she is learning.
Entering the flat, there are large cardboard boxes, unhung pictures, stacks of china, she has never properly unpacked with the exception of her girl apparel which is beautifully arranged and carefully hanging in the huge mirrored wardrobe that Angela built to protect her hundreds of beautiful feminine dresses. Her boy clothes are unkempt and unironed thrown about the place- there is a complete disregard and disinterest in what she deems to be her Drab. The flat is total chaos, TIllie gave up trying to tidy it months ago, "Welcome home Hun" Angela pushes Tillie up against the sink, her pelvis squared to Tillie, hse feels Angela's cock stiffening beneath the blue satin of her skirt, an anticipatory frission of lust, swells within "It's so mega to have you back" She feels small and owned within Angela's long smooth warm limbs. They look into each others heavily made up eyes and scan each others faces, She adores Angela's perfect features and large, long lashed blue eyes. They are both looking to remember what may have been forgotten of each other in their absence "I need to zap your 'tache Tillster" They both laugh "Your 'orrible sometimes Meanie pants" in mock offence says Tillie.
Angela earns herself a playful slap on the arm. They will stand and hold each other just smiling.
The sink is filled with unwashed pots and pans, every surface in the flat is dirty and covered with make up costume jewellery, odd stockings, bills, receipts, an assortment of jazzy expensive handbags. It is a complete example of Angela's ability to only focus on what she enjoys doing. Tidying and being orderly are an alien concept it would seem.
"Now you sit down, I'll pour you a drink, you know you want one Subby" she mocks, she moves a pile of crumpled laundry and places it precariously on a pile of what is hopefully clean ladies lingerie and underwear. "Let me show you what i bought" Together they love to look at Angela's new clothes fresh from that endless shopping Mecca Ebay, Angela will give a TIllie a fashion show, much to Tillie's obvious glee......They say they are not in love but I think they are.
After dinner they will put on their matching red satin nighties and snuggle under a duvet watching Battlestar Gallactica and they will be in their favourite most treasured zone... two girls cuddled up on the sofa just happy to be together. Tillie's dipsomania disappears when she is in her caccoon with Angela,
Monday 11 January 2010
Sexual Identity, hormones and body-morphing.
There is a path it runs from A to an uncertain letter of the Alphabet, Angela and I (and her daughter) are following this path. Everyday she becomes slightly different in her appearance and in her social and sexual expression.Her beard is history, her natural dark blonde hair is long (and ready to be highlighted and styled Miss Messie Jessie!), her skin is softening up and becoming less furry, her boobs are slowly taking shape, her gestures and speech patterns are more womanly, she can and does cry like a woman... With each shift - I also have to adapt, both of us keenly analytical and vigilant to the changes. Hence this blog, so I can track and diarise these changes and my own emotional growth. As more and more of her true gender is revealed and authenticated so I too have to change.
About five or six months into our rather sexually charged but emotionally reluctant and hesitant relationship, we were very aware that Angela was not a mere transvestite or humble cross dresser, that with increased opportunities to dress as female, she felt she was psychologically female. her real self was stripping off all the defensive layers that had she had accrued, her male self was the construct around Angela and not vica versa. It was he who was the artifice, only Angela was real. When we originally forged our bond, our connection was really based on avoiding loneliness and highly charged lesbian flavoured hetero sex, (she would be en femme when we made love), but the mode would be in essence based around penetrative sex and oral sex. I feel a weird guilt now looking back admitting it was the best sex I had ever had... it stills feels taboo to say as a woman you like sex. As that part of our "love" has now subsided as she becomes increasingly feminised through the use of feminising hormones and anti androgen's, I have to take charge and negotiate the mazes of my own passions.
It is critical i share this, immense range of feelings and my response to these changes, as my whole identity, my self labelling has to shift.
As our relationship commenced, I saw her as a perfect package of male and female, but in those early days the boy in her was more prominent, she was more boyish in her mannerisms, as well as her interests. I adored the man who had come to my home and told me I was worth more and who had never been disloyal to me and my constant cylonesque companion. For all I gained each day in my beautiful Angela I lost the special boy who had touched me so deeply with his honesty. This was truly a sacrifice for me, willing made but still a perceived loss.
When we discussed the imminent use of hormones and Angela transitioning, I would be dutiful and encouraging, but felt fear, at the loss of her sex drive and erectile functioning, I did not know any other real women who would be able to share this experience with me, I was pleased for Angela's happiness but was suppressing my own disappointment, that something like sex was critically such a self definition to me, there is something shameful as a respectable female in admitting that you love sex, and have deep physical desires for someone, that it is cruel to say to your lover. "Can we not keep this one thing"? People who I confided in, well meaning transsexual women, would talk to me about sex toys, plastic cocks, extended foreplay, a surrogate (yeah right that's helpful... stand in line boys, it's a tough job but someones got to do it!) but what I grieve and fear is the loss of an intimate and mentally involved love making process, that has been the norm for most of my life. The process not a singular act. Thoughts of leaving her over the issue of sex tortured me, but the more they came, the more I knew I could never ever leave this woman who somehow was deep inside of me and such a support to me. I could not bear to be without her in my life. As she became more female the more we loved each other, the more she seemed able to emotionally love me, (her boy mode is emotionally autistic I think). I am sure I can adapt but it will take time, intelligence and love, but it is difficult to push away a physical longing. It as been suggested to me that the desire for penetration is not the same as the desire forheterosexual sex...this suggestion is a mantra of hope for me, and one for me to contemplate.
We have a scenario we paint, a vision of the future that we sometimes giggle about, where our rather straight laced, sensible and serious daughters are driving us out for the night, whilst we are in the back of the car being tut tutted by them - as their two eccentric lesbian parents from Hell. I never envisaged myself as an elderly dyke, the nice old Lezzer next door? I have had lesbian relationships in the past but I lacked a commitment, I hurt the women I was involved with (I'm sorry). it was a side to me but not my identity, I never felt like a proper lesbian. When I talk to strangers, i am conscious that it is disloyal to Angela to refer to her as HE, and on a train recently struggled to tell two chatty and effervescent young people that I was going to meet my female partner. For the first time in many years I hid my queer nature, in my mind the lesbian self-label was sticking, but I felt closeted about it in the company of heterosexual people, I do not want to explain myself but I also do not want to feel social discomfort.
Angels' transition forces me now to ask "Who am I now?"
I am forced to adapt, re-channel my sexual energies and develop a new socio-sexual identity. My love is transforming me as she transforms.
We are chameleons.
Whispers
May i say quietly to you
as you lie in my arms
tall and satinned
long limbed
and the moonlight on the snowy lawn
lights my study
and the books bear witness
to us
as queer women.
I run my fingertips over your spine
then theirs
may I say quietly to you
that "Angel, the sacrifices hurt me
but the boons of love make me rejoice"
closing my eyes just breathing
less of you is more of you
We are inside looking out
I will say quietly to you
"thank you Chikka
for our beautiful contradiction"
About five or six months into our rather sexually charged but emotionally reluctant and hesitant relationship, we were very aware that Angela was not a mere transvestite or humble cross dresser, that with increased opportunities to dress as female, she felt she was psychologically female. her real self was stripping off all the defensive layers that had she had accrued, her male self was the construct around Angela and not vica versa. It was he who was the artifice, only Angela was real. When we originally forged our bond, our connection was really based on avoiding loneliness and highly charged lesbian flavoured hetero sex, (she would be en femme when we made love), but the mode would be in essence based around penetrative sex and oral sex. I feel a weird guilt now looking back admitting it was the best sex I had ever had... it stills feels taboo to say as a woman you like sex. As that part of our "love" has now subsided as she becomes increasingly feminised through the use of feminising hormones and anti androgen's, I have to take charge and negotiate the mazes of my own passions.
It is critical i share this, immense range of feelings and my response to these changes, as my whole identity, my self labelling has to shift.
As our relationship commenced, I saw her as a perfect package of male and female, but in those early days the boy in her was more prominent, she was more boyish in her mannerisms, as well as her interests. I adored the man who had come to my home and told me I was worth more and who had never been disloyal to me and my constant cylonesque companion. For all I gained each day in my beautiful Angela I lost the special boy who had touched me so deeply with his honesty. This was truly a sacrifice for me, willing made but still a perceived loss.
When we discussed the imminent use of hormones and Angela transitioning, I would be dutiful and encouraging, but felt fear, at the loss of her sex drive and erectile functioning, I did not know any other real women who would be able to share this experience with me, I was pleased for Angela's happiness but was suppressing my own disappointment, that something like sex was critically such a self definition to me, there is something shameful as a respectable female in admitting that you love sex, and have deep physical desires for someone, that it is cruel to say to your lover. "Can we not keep this one thing"? People who I confided in, well meaning transsexual women, would talk to me about sex toys, plastic cocks, extended foreplay, a surrogate (yeah right that's helpful... stand in line boys, it's a tough job but someones got to do it!) but what I grieve and fear is the loss of an intimate and mentally involved love making process, that has been the norm for most of my life. The process not a singular act. Thoughts of leaving her over the issue of sex tortured me, but the more they came, the more I knew I could never ever leave this woman who somehow was deep inside of me and such a support to me. I could not bear to be without her in my life. As she became more female the more we loved each other, the more she seemed able to emotionally love me, (her boy mode is emotionally autistic I think). I am sure I can adapt but it will take time, intelligence and love, but it is difficult to push away a physical longing. It as been suggested to me that the desire for penetration is not the same as the desire forheterosexual sex...this suggestion is a mantra of hope for me, and one for me to contemplate.
We have a scenario we paint, a vision of the future that we sometimes giggle about, where our rather straight laced, sensible and serious daughters are driving us out for the night, whilst we are in the back of the car being tut tutted by them - as their two eccentric lesbian parents from Hell. I never envisaged myself as an elderly dyke, the nice old Lezzer next door? I have had lesbian relationships in the past but I lacked a commitment, I hurt the women I was involved with (I'm sorry). it was a side to me but not my identity, I never felt like a proper lesbian. When I talk to strangers, i am conscious that it is disloyal to Angela to refer to her as HE, and on a train recently struggled to tell two chatty and effervescent young people that I was going to meet my female partner. For the first time in many years I hid my queer nature, in my mind the lesbian self-label was sticking, but I felt closeted about it in the company of heterosexual people, I do not want to explain myself but I also do not want to feel social discomfort.
Angels' transition forces me now to ask "Who am I now?"
I am forced to adapt, re-channel my sexual energies and develop a new socio-sexual identity. My love is transforming me as she transforms.
We are chameleons.
Whispers
May i say quietly to you
as you lie in my arms
tall and satinned
long limbed
and the moonlight on the snowy lawn
lights my study
and the books bear witness
to us
as queer women.
I run my fingertips over your spine
then theirs
may I say quietly to you
that "Angel, the sacrifices hurt me
but the boons of love make me rejoice"
closing my eyes just breathing
less of you is more of you
We are inside looking out
I will say quietly to you
"thank you Chikka
for our beautiful contradiction"
What is it with Tillie and the T-girls?
Tillie and the t-girls! Hmmmmmmm I think I feel a live band coming on!
The question I am most frequently asked is "What is it with me and trans people? " (I feel a rather exotic dance act coming on!)
When Judy first introduced me to the world of the T-girl in September 2008, I was very much alone, with no local friends, and I found her circle of T.V's and cross dressers to be warm, friendly and also rather spicy. There were numerous opportunities to be wined and dined, and dance till the early hours. Her friends would be willing to pick me up and often treat me. I was on a reduced income living in a small village with three children. I was trying to sort my self out as a self employed web based business (up and running now- thanks to Angela's help) and life was not really a lot of fun. Tillie is a vivacious and sociable girl with a wild child side to her that is never far from the surface. The nights out with the beautiful t-girls was a welcome outlet and a thrill. Many of the girls would be leading secret lives in their need to dress and appreciated a friend to talk to and the company of a real woman who accepted and embraced their en femme natures and expressions. It is something I find profoundly touching and also brings out a protective streak in me.
Many people associate transvestites with deviant and promiscuous sex, and whilst this maybe partly true, I believe it is only as true as in the entire vanilla male population, many of whom go drinking in clubs in order to get laid. It is not just t-girls who like a splash of PVC and a session of tied up teasing. it is just they look hotter when they are playing the game! It is I guess psycho sexual for me, although on a psychological level, the eroticism and sensuality it arouses in me could be a definite aspect of my innate bisexuality and the perfect compromise for my sexual expression. When I first started my affair with Judy it felt very right, to be held in the arms of a man in satin and stockings.
I find t-girls very exciting, and once "out" they exist as a large and formidable community, I have been befriended, and courted by multi millionaire, financiers and young students, the common link with them all being a desire for a feminine expression and to be accepted as such. I love to go clacking down Canal Street, with a gaggle of six foot t-girls, to tease the boys!
So partly my love is a love of of life, and an attraction to a subversive lifestyle that bends the rules of society, gender is an explosive issue and can provoke volatile and diverse reactions, and like my life long devotion to gay issues and rights hence I am an ally to the trans community ans proud to be an advocate of trans issues. Like a call to duty. Gender was a key area of study when I undertook an M.phil in Women's studies and know that gender and sexuality, the self -are One but spectral and faceted. I feel I understand the very nature of it.
I am being very specific here, and referring to TV's and cross dressers, the trans person is a varied species- with private lingerie wearers who are largely secretive and mostly I think autogynophiles (masturbators), fetishists, etc And then we start to encounter the clearly transgendered individuals right through to the transwomen who are born in mismatching bodies and who have female brain patterning. This is something very different to my sexual and social fascination with t-girls! Many of my transsexual women friends are highly offended if referred to as trannys! In my mind my transsexual female friends are as female as my natal (biological) female friends. It is a more domestic and centred love I feel for them. Sometimes though the transwoman see "t-girl" as a dirty and demeaning word, and I feel this is also a terrible prejudice, as many transswomen start as transvestites and only realise the extremes of their transgenderism as they get older, and suppress their true female due to denial and a myriad of social pressures.
Angela's transsexualism, when it emerged about six months into our relationship had a huge impact on my life and how I view my role in society and the basic tenets of truth telling within my family, it has caused me much soul searching and questioning about my own sexual identity and the impact it has on others. I feel other trans-partners may need a friend in me to help navigate what is a beautiful but treacherous journey.
My open, queer and studious nature facilitates a deep love of this community, and a safety net it provides for me as I know I am also valued in return. I also need to protect Angela.
The question I am most frequently asked is "What is it with me and trans people? " (I feel a rather exotic dance act coming on!)
When Judy first introduced me to the world of the T-girl in September 2008, I was very much alone, with no local friends, and I found her circle of T.V's and cross dressers to be warm, friendly and also rather spicy. There were numerous opportunities to be wined and dined, and dance till the early hours. Her friends would be willing to pick me up and often treat me. I was on a reduced income living in a small village with three children. I was trying to sort my self out as a self employed web based business (up and running now- thanks to Angela's help) and life was not really a lot of fun. Tillie is a vivacious and sociable girl with a wild child side to her that is never far from the surface. The nights out with the beautiful t-girls was a welcome outlet and a thrill. Many of the girls would be leading secret lives in their need to dress and appreciated a friend to talk to and the company of a real woman who accepted and embraced their en femme natures and expressions. It is something I find profoundly touching and also brings out a protective streak in me.
Many people associate transvestites with deviant and promiscuous sex, and whilst this maybe partly true, I believe it is only as true as in the entire vanilla male population, many of whom go drinking in clubs in order to get laid. It is not just t-girls who like a splash of PVC and a session of tied up teasing. it is just they look hotter when they are playing the game! It is I guess psycho sexual for me, although on a psychological level, the eroticism and sensuality it arouses in me could be a definite aspect of my innate bisexuality and the perfect compromise for my sexual expression. When I first started my affair with Judy it felt very right, to be held in the arms of a man in satin and stockings.
I find t-girls very exciting, and once "out" they exist as a large and formidable community, I have been befriended, and courted by multi millionaire, financiers and young students, the common link with them all being a desire for a feminine expression and to be accepted as such. I love to go clacking down Canal Street, with a gaggle of six foot t-girls, to tease the boys!
So partly my love is a love of of life, and an attraction to a subversive lifestyle that bends the rules of society, gender is an explosive issue and can provoke volatile and diverse reactions, and like my life long devotion to gay issues and rights hence I am an ally to the trans community ans proud to be an advocate of trans issues. Like a call to duty. Gender was a key area of study when I undertook an M.phil in Women's studies and know that gender and sexuality, the self -are One but spectral and faceted. I feel I understand the very nature of it.
I am being very specific here, and referring to TV's and cross dressers, the trans person is a varied species- with private lingerie wearers who are largely secretive and mostly I think autogynophiles (masturbators), fetishists, etc And then we start to encounter the clearly transgendered individuals right through to the transwomen who are born in mismatching bodies and who have female brain patterning. This is something very different to my sexual and social fascination with t-girls! Many of my transsexual women friends are highly offended if referred to as trannys! In my mind my transsexual female friends are as female as my natal (biological) female friends. It is a more domestic and centred love I feel for them. Sometimes though the transwoman see "t-girl" as a dirty and demeaning word, and I feel this is also a terrible prejudice, as many transswomen start as transvestites and only realise the extremes of their transgenderism as they get older, and suppress their true female due to denial and a myriad of social pressures.
Angela's transsexualism, when it emerged about six months into our relationship had a huge impact on my life and how I view my role in society and the basic tenets of truth telling within my family, it has caused me much soul searching and questioning about my own sexual identity and the impact it has on others. I feel other trans-partners may need a friend in me to help navigate what is a beautiful but treacherous journey.
My open, queer and studious nature facilitates a deep love of this community, and a safety net it provides for me as I know I am also valued in return. I also need to protect Angela.
Sunday 10 January 2010
a hot date 2009?
After finishing with Judy and pushing Angela away I had to decide what I would do with myself, my career dismantled by my enforced relocation. no female friends, no money to relaunch a "proper" business, I was at ground zero -I craved love and the company of adults, I sat around for a few weeks licking my wounds and generally being rather maudlin and self pitying, genuinely regretting the end of my alliance with Judy but knowing I could not go back. Attachment is a peculiar thing, that you can shed more tears over a three months love affair than either of your decade long relationships. In hindsight the connection that had struck such a very deep chord within me was to do with our IQ's. Even though now a year later we sometimes do not talk for several weeks, there is a remnant of our closeness that will always reside within, she will always feel like an ally in life to me. Perhaps she was symbolic of my own foolishness, my appalling lack of sense when choosing who I love. Once again getting it so catastrophically wrong. The heart can be forever blind in foolish girls like me. For several months every time me and Judy met we would cry, I had never seen a man cry so heartbreakingly as she. Love can be a cold wilderness. The tears of those you lost are a bitter elixer.
I cracked after three weeks, I was getting pressure from admirers on the Internet to go on dates, yet nothing really appealed, my heart was not in it, I missed Judy terribly and wanted to talk to Angela and see how she was getting on with her move from her family home, aware of the pain she would be feeling to leave her 6 year old daughter. I emailed her to say I was feeling less hurt and more logical, would she like to talk? Her forgiveness was immediate, it was apparent we had missed each other. Like Gaius and Caprica6, Angela is like a beautiful Cylon who plants a chip within you and like a secret voice within your mind, starts guiding your decision making processes. Angela's friendship was a structure in my life I needed, I am not born to isolation, I need closeness and devotion otherwise life becomes meaningless. I think they call it being a soft Get.
Angela duly invited me to a trans friendly night club in Northamptonshire in the second week of January, Pink Punters, she was freshly out of the closet and was needing to spread her wings and be with other like minded people who would build up her confidence through their approval and acceptance. Like a young girl who was finally allowed to go out dancing with other grown ups - at last able to be herself and not be questioned or ignored. I had been through the mill and also needed to let my hair down and have some fun.
In our late night discussions, prior to our date she assured me that I would be under no pressure to have sex, although she admitted she did find me hot, I was frank, I would not rule out a level of intimacy with her but would just go with the flow, we were friends and sex would just be a bonus and not something that sealed our fate. Her performance anxiety was worrying to hear, telling me that her wife had convinced her she was a crap kisser, that she was rubbish in bed,would probably end up riding the rapids or not get erect at all. I was constantly needing to reassure her that love making starts with one kiss and the rest should follow naturally, as a woman i am sexually very confident and open minded, and I felt Angela was jumping the gun, she had not had sex in six years, so she was foolish to assume anything at all about a potential new lover. The pressure was well and truly on if the truth be known! She was harbouring fantasies about Bondage, restraint, anal sex and fairly outrageous sub / domme role play with me as her submissive slave. I was terrified but my subversive inner self longed to just submit and also take control of Angela's fears by proving her insecure inner self wrong. Again she marked herself out as a contradiction, cocky, arrogant and confident, yet sexually and emotionally shattered and in need of repair. Both of us asserted a need to take things slowly but seemed to cling to each other in what seemed a fragile and uncertain world.
We booked into the room and started to unpack for about five minutes, "I'm crapping myslef Til' I need to get this out of the way" for the second time in our time together and our second physical meet, he just picked me up and laid me down, on my back,"I'm rock hard" he knelt over me and kissed me, pinned me down, "I own you now Tillie" I must have had a very startled expression at the time--- he started to undress and said I need to know I won't fail"....
The room was full of Lipsy micro dresses, hers, porn star wigs,mink coats, make up, bottles of grenache pink wine, her gadgets and sex toys, unwrapped gifts for me... it was how things would be for months. A heightened sensory distraction- but not emotional.
Our first night together proved Angela wrong in every way - the sex blew my mind, she was generous to a fault and a lover who was imaginative and energetic.
She was so painfully honest at times, on the return in the car he made it very clear, that she was not looking for a heavy involvement and did not want to rush into a serious relationship, she was two days away from leaving her wife and did not want to jump into anything heavy, she was not in love with me, like she had been with her last two wives and did not want to get involved with my three children. At times, she could hurt me to my core, but honesty is better than lies. So here I was with Angela but also free? Neither of us was in love, if either us knew what that meant?
I had found myself an alpha t-girl, who could offer me the sensuality of a girl yet the the benefits of a hetero passion too? I was to be proven very wrong indeed and neither Angela or I had any idea what a wonderful and explosive year lay ahead. We were tentatively placing our feet on a tightrope of fire, like a circus act unlike any other.
I cracked after three weeks, I was getting pressure from admirers on the Internet to go on dates, yet nothing really appealed, my heart was not in it, I missed Judy terribly and wanted to talk to Angela and see how she was getting on with her move from her family home, aware of the pain she would be feeling to leave her 6 year old daughter. I emailed her to say I was feeling less hurt and more logical, would she like to talk? Her forgiveness was immediate, it was apparent we had missed each other. Like Gaius and Caprica6, Angela is like a beautiful Cylon who plants a chip within you and like a secret voice within your mind, starts guiding your decision making processes. Angela's friendship was a structure in my life I needed, I am not born to isolation, I need closeness and devotion otherwise life becomes meaningless. I think they call it being a soft Get.
Angela duly invited me to a trans friendly night club in Northamptonshire in the second week of January, Pink Punters, she was freshly out of the closet and was needing to spread her wings and be with other like minded people who would build up her confidence through their approval and acceptance. Like a young girl who was finally allowed to go out dancing with other grown ups - at last able to be herself and not be questioned or ignored. I had been through the mill and also needed to let my hair down and have some fun.
In our late night discussions, prior to our date she assured me that I would be under no pressure to have sex, although she admitted she did find me hot, I was frank, I would not rule out a level of intimacy with her but would just go with the flow, we were friends and sex would just be a bonus and not something that sealed our fate. Her performance anxiety was worrying to hear, telling me that her wife had convinced her she was a crap kisser, that she was rubbish in bed,would probably end up riding the rapids or not get erect at all. I was constantly needing to reassure her that love making starts with one kiss and the rest should follow naturally, as a woman i am sexually very confident and open minded, and I felt Angela was jumping the gun, she had not had sex in six years, so she was foolish to assume anything at all about a potential new lover. The pressure was well and truly on if the truth be known! She was harbouring fantasies about Bondage, restraint, anal sex and fairly outrageous sub / domme role play with me as her submissive slave. I was terrified but my subversive inner self longed to just submit and also take control of Angela's fears by proving her insecure inner self wrong. Again she marked herself out as a contradiction, cocky, arrogant and confident, yet sexually and emotionally shattered and in need of repair. Both of us asserted a need to take things slowly but seemed to cling to each other in what seemed a fragile and uncertain world.
We booked into the room and started to unpack for about five minutes, "I'm crapping myslef Til' I need to get this out of the way" for the second time in our time together and our second physical meet, he just picked me up and laid me down, on my back,"I'm rock hard" he knelt over me and kissed me, pinned me down, "I own you now Tillie" I must have had a very startled expression at the time--- he started to undress and said I need to know I won't fail"....
The room was full of Lipsy micro dresses, hers, porn star wigs,mink coats, make up, bottles of grenache pink wine, her gadgets and sex toys, unwrapped gifts for me... it was how things would be for months. A heightened sensory distraction- but not emotional.
Our first night together proved Angela wrong in every way - the sex blew my mind, she was generous to a fault and a lover who was imaginative and energetic.
She was so painfully honest at times, on the return in the car he made it very clear, that she was not looking for a heavy involvement and did not want to rush into a serious relationship, she was two days away from leaving her wife and did not want to jump into anything heavy, she was not in love with me, like she had been with her last two wives and did not want to get involved with my three children. At times, she could hurt me to my core, but honesty is better than lies. So here I was with Angela but also free? Neither of us was in love, if either us knew what that meant?
I had found myself an alpha t-girl, who could offer me the sensuality of a girl yet the the benefits of a hetero passion too? I was to be proven very wrong indeed and neither Angela or I had any idea what a wonderful and explosive year lay ahead. We were tentatively placing our feet on a tightrope of fire, like a circus act unlike any other.
Thursday 7 January 2010
Messages December 8th 2008
Angela:I know we are not an item
"Something else I want to say - (well you know me - lol) . I was trying to make the point earlier, don't move any of the feelings you had for Judy to me. You must heal your heart, but do it knowing there are people who care for you. If anything does develop between us great, if it doesn't also great - love and friendship takes many forms from family love to best friend love to lover/partner love - wherever we end up is good for me - I won't treat you like - well you know.
So please take things slowly with your heart - am I coming across right? I will do everthing I can to heal you and make you whole again - on a purely platonic basis - I don't care. Lets go and have some fun. (and if you want to blow the bad memories out you can still come to the bno if you want/feel up to it - I had booked a twin room anyway so you would have your own bed and everything - and I will be able to resist you - though it will be hard - lol (just had to crack a joke didn't I)
Anyway I am so pleased the flowers made it to you in time :-)"
Tllie: "Thank you -I am struggling to get my head around this, and thank you for trying to make me happy"
Angela: "listen Tillie - I need to say something.
I think you are very fragile at the moment. you need to heal your heart properly before you give it away to anyone else. Nothing has changed between you and me - I think you are fab and I feel really close to you.
I am always here - just take your time on an emotional level to get well (I hope you know what I mean) .
Anyway, your good friend santa is going to focus on making you that happy, smiley, confident person again - cos that's what you are.
xxx Bet Ican make you smile"
Tillie: "It hurts that I was just a bit of optional fun"
Angela:"Yes I know Tillie.
I have been trying to gently open your eyes to this, but because you did not know me very well and I did not want to appear like a trouble causer I have not been blunt with you about it. It was important that you came to this conclusion yourself.
but Tillie, and I know you do not know me very well, I promise there are really nice people out there. You were probably still on the bounce.
I know you are a glass half full type of girl so here goes - in all of this you have found the best friend you could have - come what may. I never let my friends down - ever.
Charge your fracking mobile and ring me..."
Tillie:"well here is Judy's reply and i couldn't be more hurt to be honest
and wish i could stop crying, it's been hours of weeping now. I don't know what you want from me?
Judy's reply to me ending our relationship: "Ok hun, I understand.
I do appreciate your point of view - it is unfair to prevent you from having the opportunity to see other, genuinely free, people. I wanted our relationship to be all about happy things. The last thing I want is for you to feel bad about yourself.
Yes, you are right. I shouldn't have to be wangling work trips and you shouldn't be made to feel like an add-on, as you say.
I apologise for the corridor pix, I was rather tipsy myself and just thought it mght be fun to look at them together later - I have deleted them all, of course. (Judy had taken some photots of me ina drunken collapsed state and I was not pleased)
Have a lovely time at BNO and have a great Christmas. "
Angela: Til - I wish I could say something to help you - but I can't except for two things. Firstly - you are lucky to find out about this before you got too hooked up. Secondly - I am going to make you believe in human kind again. YOU ARE NOT ALONE - phone me if you want - I just called you and your personal support person said you wre unavailable (couldn't hear to well over the tele - lol) infact definately phone me.
If you don't let me know you are ok am going to drive down and sort you out myself.
xxxx
"Something else I want to say - (well you know me - lol) . I was trying to make the point earlier, don't move any of the feelings you had for Judy to me. You must heal your heart, but do it knowing there are people who care for you. If anything does develop between us great, if it doesn't also great - love and friendship takes many forms from family love to best friend love to lover/partner love - wherever we end up is good for me - I won't treat you like - well you know.
So please take things slowly with your heart - am I coming across right? I will do everthing I can to heal you and make you whole again - on a purely platonic basis - I don't care. Lets go and have some fun. (and if you want to blow the bad memories out you can still come to the bno if you want/feel up to it - I had booked a twin room anyway so you would have your own bed and everything - and I will be able to resist you - though it will be hard - lol (just had to crack a joke didn't I)
Anyway I am so pleased the flowers made it to you in time :-)"
Tllie: "Thank you -I am struggling to get my head around this, and thank you for trying to make me happy"
Angela: "listen Tillie - I need to say something.
I think you are very fragile at the moment. you need to heal your heart properly before you give it away to anyone else. Nothing has changed between you and me - I think you are fab and I feel really close to you.
I am always here - just take your time on an emotional level to get well (I hope you know what I mean) .
Anyway, your good friend santa is going to focus on making you that happy, smiley, confident person again - cos that's what you are.
xxx Bet Ican make you smile"
Tillie: "It hurts that I was just a bit of optional fun"
Angela:"Yes I know Tillie.
I have been trying to gently open your eyes to this, but because you did not know me very well and I did not want to appear like a trouble causer I have not been blunt with you about it. It was important that you came to this conclusion yourself.
but Tillie, and I know you do not know me very well, I promise there are really nice people out there. You were probably still on the bounce.
I know you are a glass half full type of girl so here goes - in all of this you have found the best friend you could have - come what may. I never let my friends down - ever.
Charge your fracking mobile and ring me..."
Tillie:"well here is Judy's reply and i couldn't be more hurt to be honest
and wish i could stop crying, it's been hours of weeping now. I don't know what you want from me?
Judy's reply to me ending our relationship: "Ok hun, I understand.
I do appreciate your point of view - it is unfair to prevent you from having the opportunity to see other, genuinely free, people. I wanted our relationship to be all about happy things. The last thing I want is for you to feel bad about yourself.
Yes, you are right. I shouldn't have to be wangling work trips and you shouldn't be made to feel like an add-on, as you say.
I apologise for the corridor pix, I was rather tipsy myself and just thought it mght be fun to look at them together later - I have deleted them all, of course. (Judy had taken some photots of me ina drunken collapsed state and I was not pleased)
Have a lovely time at BNO and have a great Christmas. "
Angela: Til - I wish I could say something to help you - but I can't except for two things. Firstly - you are lucky to find out about this before you got too hooked up. Secondly - I am going to make you believe in human kind again. YOU ARE NOT ALONE - phone me if you want - I just called you and your personal support person said you wre unavailable (couldn't hear to well over the tele - lol) infact definately phone me.
If you don't let me know you are ok am going to drive down and sort you out myself.
xxxx
Tears and tinsel
I existed in a bubble, working on my book store, putting the kids to bed each night and waiting for my late night chats with Judy and Angela. The Internet has an odd way of cocooning you, connected yet alone.
On a recent soiree with Judy, she had told me that she was moving back into her family home - but would have a separate room to her wife, as they were well and truly estranged and waiting to divorce, she wished to support her teenage son and wanted to cut her expenses for rent etc. It seemed to make sense, to help her child, I felt a little uneasy but suppressed the feelings and looked on the bright side, I could not see that we could be parted.
Angela asked for my telephone number so we could chat on the phone occasionally and was proving to be a reliable and straight talking friend. She would tell me exciting and sexual stories - that would have me in a state of mock horror, making me laugh - shrieking with mirth, her laugh echoed mine, I would forget she was a boy, she was very very sincere and needed help to come out of the closet and reach decisions about her own failed marriage. It was in no way a romantic connection, it was like we had always been friends. I looked forward to her calls as Judy never phoned me, except to tell me she was 20 minutes from collecting me for our trips.
In early December she asked is she could call and visit me at home on her way to a business meeting, she wanted to take me for a drink and get to know me better, she had something she needed to tell me. It was a tall handsome young looking guy in a suit that arrived, he was every bit the consummate business man, with his BMW parked on my drive, I knew Angela was beautiful when transformed but was taken aback by how good looking her male side was. Experience in recent times has taught me that very handsome men do make divine t-girls. She arrived with an overnight case. She had asked in her usual inimitable fashion, how far she could go with me? I was adamant, you'll get no further than holding my hand, I was in a good relationship that I honestly felt had a real future... Angela was fine with this she also had a hidden agenda.
We decided to go to the local village pub, outside my house she stood close to me, looking at me smiling, "Can I hold your hand then Tillie?" I was surprised at her obvious delight, it was touching, she explained it was long time since anyone had held her hand or offered him any affection, she was like a lonely but eager teenager, she swung my arm a little "God, this is totally mega" she seemed happy. Something protective stirred in me, she was a contradiction, she had discussed with me on previous evenings a fascination with bondage, being a sissy maid, playing Domme Bitch and dark love, yet she was oddly innocent.
In the pub he sat close to me and told me the story of her life, of how from a teenager who crossdressed she has formed her Angela Persona, who was very real and different in essence and personality to her boy facets.
When we walked home she stopped me under a street lamp and kissed me on the cheek, her lips with soft and full... she told me I was very pretty and was glad she had found me. She wrapped her arms around "you're very special to be able to love people lke me" I stepped back from any intimacy and she made no attempt to get any closer.
Back at home, over glasses of wine, we sat chatting about the twilight world of the trans community and how I had a long history or living with trans people and had studied gender at a post graduate level. Angela did something bizarre, at one pount in the conversation she stopped abruplty "I am uncomfortable" she blurted, she stood, picked me up effortlessly in her arms, one arm supporting my back and one arm under my knees and then lay me down on the sofa, "that's better" she said and lay down beside me "There, now we can talk"... she made no effort to kiss me or make sexual contact with me. "This person just takes whatever they want", I thought.
She started to explained the reason for her visit, she wanted to see what I was really like, she had only seen me fleetingly in Manchester and wanted to really have a serious talk with me. Explaining that she was concerned about my love for Judy and wanted to get me out of a difficult situation. He asked if I valued his opinion as a trusted friend and confidante, I felt that I did and concurred. He said he felt that Judy was lying to me about her marriage, was convinced that I was being used. That I was like a trophy or a mistress. I argued with him that Judy was honest but after a long discussion he forced me to face some obvious pointers
Angela's questions were-----
Jude never phoned me - Why?
If the marriage was over- then why no weekend visits, or in school holidays?
Why was it always linked to business expenses and work?
Why had Jude not invited me to his flat?
Where is the flat? No idea
What part of London exactly? I did not know.
Why did Judy keep vanishing online when we were chatting?
It was staring me in the face, that I had been a stupid fool, yet again.
I couldn't play second fiddle to his wife in London, I had serious issues around my self esteem and as Angela pointed out to me, being his "other woman" would compound my feelings of inadequacy, I deserved more.
I ended the relationship with Judy and she did not protest, although there were bitter tears from us both that Chrsitmas and over the following months. We took it very badly and I was not looking to bound into another man's bed.
On the day I finished it with Judy, my mother called round and asked if I had been crying, I broke down in my kitchen and explained I had had to end my relationship with "Jude" as I had realised he was in a functional marriage and I could not be part of that. My daughter was heartbroken, she had liked him and had been harbouring a secret wish that he would join our family. She said she never wished to see Jude ever again. Angela called that day and was concerned at how heartbroken and hurt I was (I did not expect such a torrent of heartache), and did not understand how I could be so hurt after a fling that had only lasted, in her eyes, for three months. Angela sent me 12 red roses, that day with a note that read "I can make you smile" They did not make me smile, I felt disappointed and very let down. She called me to say she would leave work, drive down from Cumbria and as a friend cheer me up, I told her to destroy my phone number and never ever contact me ever again, I did not want to see her or speak to her, I felt crowded and controlled. My wounds were deep, I wanted to be alone. Angela backed away, she sent one message, it said "I will be here when you need me"
A year down the line, I look back at that time and I think that what happened was that Judy met me on Facebook and we started a flirtation that was based on very solid ground, we fancied each other and we cerebrally connected through a love of books and learning. We enjoyed word play and witty banter, we were amused by each other. If she had told me she lived with her wife and was not single I would not have forged a freindship with her on any level, she knew I mistrusted men. The day she told me she was moving back in with her wife, (I later learnt from several of her friends the flat was ficticious, she had never left the family home) she was trying to get me as close to the truth and attempting I believe to unravel her fibs. Because she did not want to lose me but feared she would if I realised the flat story was a deception. We were doomed to faliure. It broke my heart.
Judy and I are still friends of sorts but have never been able to talk about it as we get upset still, she will always feel Angela took me off her and I will always feel deep down that I was betrayed. Both things are partly true I think. She had got under my skin --- it would take a long time to let go.
On a recent soiree with Judy, she had told me that she was moving back into her family home - but would have a separate room to her wife, as they were well and truly estranged and waiting to divorce, she wished to support her teenage son and wanted to cut her expenses for rent etc. It seemed to make sense, to help her child, I felt a little uneasy but suppressed the feelings and looked on the bright side, I could not see that we could be parted.
Angela asked for my telephone number so we could chat on the phone occasionally and was proving to be a reliable and straight talking friend. She would tell me exciting and sexual stories - that would have me in a state of mock horror, making me laugh - shrieking with mirth, her laugh echoed mine, I would forget she was a boy, she was very very sincere and needed help to come out of the closet and reach decisions about her own failed marriage. It was in no way a romantic connection, it was like we had always been friends. I looked forward to her calls as Judy never phoned me, except to tell me she was 20 minutes from collecting me for our trips.
In early December she asked is she could call and visit me at home on her way to a business meeting, she wanted to take me for a drink and get to know me better, she had something she needed to tell me. It was a tall handsome young looking guy in a suit that arrived, he was every bit the consummate business man, with his BMW parked on my drive, I knew Angela was beautiful when transformed but was taken aback by how good looking her male side was. Experience in recent times has taught me that very handsome men do make divine t-girls. She arrived with an overnight case. She had asked in her usual inimitable fashion, how far she could go with me? I was adamant, you'll get no further than holding my hand, I was in a good relationship that I honestly felt had a real future... Angela was fine with this she also had a hidden agenda.
We decided to go to the local village pub, outside my house she stood close to me, looking at me smiling, "Can I hold your hand then Tillie?" I was surprised at her obvious delight, it was touching, she explained it was long time since anyone had held her hand or offered him any affection, she was like a lonely but eager teenager, she swung my arm a little "God, this is totally mega" she seemed happy. Something protective stirred in me, she was a contradiction, she had discussed with me on previous evenings a fascination with bondage, being a sissy maid, playing Domme Bitch and dark love, yet she was oddly innocent.
In the pub he sat close to me and told me the story of her life, of how from a teenager who crossdressed she has formed her Angela Persona, who was very real and different in essence and personality to her boy facets.
When we walked home she stopped me under a street lamp and kissed me on the cheek, her lips with soft and full... she told me I was very pretty and was glad she had found me. She wrapped her arms around "you're very special to be able to love people lke me" I stepped back from any intimacy and she made no attempt to get any closer.
Back at home, over glasses of wine, we sat chatting about the twilight world of the trans community and how I had a long history or living with trans people and had studied gender at a post graduate level. Angela did something bizarre, at one pount in the conversation she stopped abruplty "I am uncomfortable" she blurted, she stood, picked me up effortlessly in her arms, one arm supporting my back and one arm under my knees and then lay me down on the sofa, "that's better" she said and lay down beside me "There, now we can talk"... she made no effort to kiss me or make sexual contact with me. "This person just takes whatever they want", I thought.
She started to explained the reason for her visit, she wanted to see what I was really like, she had only seen me fleetingly in Manchester and wanted to really have a serious talk with me. Explaining that she was concerned about my love for Judy and wanted to get me out of a difficult situation. He asked if I valued his opinion as a trusted friend and confidante, I felt that I did and concurred. He said he felt that Judy was lying to me about her marriage, was convinced that I was being used. That I was like a trophy or a mistress. I argued with him that Judy was honest but after a long discussion he forced me to face some obvious pointers
Angela's questions were-----
Jude never phoned me - Why?
If the marriage was over- then why no weekend visits, or in school holidays?
Why was it always linked to business expenses and work?
Why had Jude not invited me to his flat?
Where is the flat? No idea
What part of London exactly? I did not know.
Why did Judy keep vanishing online when we were chatting?
It was staring me in the face, that I had been a stupid fool, yet again.
I couldn't play second fiddle to his wife in London, I had serious issues around my self esteem and as Angela pointed out to me, being his "other woman" would compound my feelings of inadequacy, I deserved more.
I ended the relationship with Judy and she did not protest, although there were bitter tears from us both that Chrsitmas and over the following months. We took it very badly and I was not looking to bound into another man's bed.
On the day I finished it with Judy, my mother called round and asked if I had been crying, I broke down in my kitchen and explained I had had to end my relationship with "Jude" as I had realised he was in a functional marriage and I could not be part of that. My daughter was heartbroken, she had liked him and had been harbouring a secret wish that he would join our family. She said she never wished to see Jude ever again. Angela called that day and was concerned at how heartbroken and hurt I was (I did not expect such a torrent of heartache), and did not understand how I could be so hurt after a fling that had only lasted, in her eyes, for three months. Angela sent me 12 red roses, that day with a note that read "I can make you smile" They did not make me smile, I felt disappointed and very let down. She called me to say she would leave work, drive down from Cumbria and as a friend cheer me up, I told her to destroy my phone number and never ever contact me ever again, I did not want to see her or speak to her, I felt crowded and controlled. My wounds were deep, I wanted to be alone. Angela backed away, she sent one message, it said "I will be here when you need me"
A year down the line, I look back at that time and I think that what happened was that Judy met me on Facebook and we started a flirtation that was based on very solid ground, we fancied each other and we cerebrally connected through a love of books and learning. We enjoyed word play and witty banter, we were amused by each other. If she had told me she lived with her wife and was not single I would not have forged a freindship with her on any level, she knew I mistrusted men. The day she told me she was moving back in with her wife, (I later learnt from several of her friends the flat was ficticious, she had never left the family home) she was trying to get me as close to the truth and attempting I believe to unravel her fibs. Because she did not want to lose me but feared she would if I realised the flat story was a deception. We were doomed to faliure. It broke my heart.
Judy and I are still friends of sorts but have never been able to talk about it as we get upset still, she will always feel Angela took me off her and I will always feel deep down that I was betrayed. Both things are partly true I think. She had got under my skin --- it would take a long time to let go.
Monday 4 January 2010
You and me and Jealousy
I was unquestioning of Judy, I was happy, seeing her every few weeks, and understood her work and family issues would prevent me from seeing her weekends and school holidays, it was preferable to have less of her (and him) than more of anyone else. Chatting most evenings on the Internet, keeping the connection.
The desire for a feminised man came,I think from a visual demasculisation and removal of machismo that was a psycho-sexual sanctuary, my negative feelings towards men eased by her female guise, unless of course I'm simply a dyke who enjoys cock, which was Judy's rather jovial theory. She had bought me into well connected world where I met very very interesting people who were connected by their cross dressing and all would extend a hand of friendship to me, to dine and dance and drink. Judy made me 21 again - I was happy.
A couple of months into the relationship I was contacted by a cross dresser called Angela, who was determined to befriend me and would employ various highly amusing ruses in her emails and messages to catch me out and attract my attention, she was clearly erudite and very lateral in her observations, she was also mind numbingly lonely and I felt for her and our conversations were easy and our chats flowed very smoothly. She was sabre sharp in her thinking, but gentle too. The pictures of her showed a rather plump and frumpy over glammed hausfrau dressed for the opera, she was much more Dallas-Diva than Disco Dolly. Our friendship seemed to be focused on a nightly chat when Judy had to disappear as her son was staying with her or her PC was crashing. There would be two chat boxes open on my screen, Judy would frequently disappear, Angela remained constant. I was oblivious to what was going on.
In the November Angela said she would love to join the t-girls in the Manchester area for a meal and an evening of dancing in The Gay Village and I assured her she would be welcome. She was very much in the closet and was needing to express herself and get out of a a very claustrophobic home life, in a collapsed marriage where her Cross dressing was a subject of derision and a source of bitter hurt for her wife. Angela was of course welcome to join us, there would be a gaggle of t-girls out that night, one more would only add to the fun.
A group of us was sitting in one of the more opulent restaurants in town, all chandelier and red velvet, very ambient music played and from experience Judy and I knew the food was very good. Angela was running late and we were waiting for her. She made an entrance like a tall and gorgeous prom queen, with long porn blond hair, an ankle length vivid red satin dress with a long string of luminescent pearls, she was beautiful... she sashayed across the room on very high black velvet court shoes, the whole restaurant stopped to look at her, Judy went rigid with annoyance, "That's me fucked then, that one will take you off me" - Jealousy was not a side of her I had ever seen. "Don't be ridiculous, how could she?" was my reply.
The desire for a feminised man came,I think from a visual demasculisation and removal of machismo that was a psycho-sexual sanctuary, my negative feelings towards men eased by her female guise, unless of course I'm simply a dyke who enjoys cock, which was Judy's rather jovial theory. She had bought me into well connected world where I met very very interesting people who were connected by their cross dressing and all would extend a hand of friendship to me, to dine and dance and drink. Judy made me 21 again - I was happy.
A couple of months into the relationship I was contacted by a cross dresser called Angela, who was determined to befriend me and would employ various highly amusing ruses in her emails and messages to catch me out and attract my attention, she was clearly erudite and very lateral in her observations, she was also mind numbingly lonely and I felt for her and our conversations were easy and our chats flowed very smoothly. She was sabre sharp in her thinking, but gentle too. The pictures of her showed a rather plump and frumpy over glammed hausfrau dressed for the opera, she was much more Dallas-Diva than Disco Dolly. Our friendship seemed to be focused on a nightly chat when Judy had to disappear as her son was staying with her or her PC was crashing. There would be two chat boxes open on my screen, Judy would frequently disappear, Angela remained constant. I was oblivious to what was going on.
In the November Angela said she would love to join the t-girls in the Manchester area for a meal and an evening of dancing in The Gay Village and I assured her she would be welcome. She was very much in the closet and was needing to express herself and get out of a a very claustrophobic home life, in a collapsed marriage where her Cross dressing was a subject of derision and a source of bitter hurt for her wife. Angela was of course welcome to join us, there would be a gaggle of t-girls out that night, one more would only add to the fun.
A group of us was sitting in one of the more opulent restaurants in town, all chandelier and red velvet, very ambient music played and from experience Judy and I knew the food was very good. Angela was running late and we were waiting for her. She made an entrance like a tall and gorgeous prom queen, with long porn blond hair, an ankle length vivid red satin dress with a long string of luminescent pearls, she was beautiful... she sashayed across the room on very high black velvet court shoes, the whole restaurant stopped to look at her, Judy went rigid with annoyance, "That's me fucked then, that one will take you off me" - Jealousy was not a side of her I had ever seen. "Don't be ridiculous, how could she?" was my reply.
Judy- Crash and burn
Judy and I had a strong mental rapport, she was a straight TV with a love of hot women and I longed to be hot. We rapidly became sexually intimate, meeting in Manchester, Birmingham, Sheffield when she was up North on business, staying in comfortable hotel rooms and being treated to meals out with the other t-girls. It was magical for me. Judy was an experienced well seasoned lover and I loved her maturity.
To my knowledge, at the start of our relationship and for the initial start of our friendship she was separated from her wife, living in a flat in North London. We would lie in bed and she would explain scientific theories to me and help me understand things that I would ordinarily have not understood as my studies had been to do with feminist theory, theology and literature. I was mentally aroused by her and felt valued. Again it felt like love, it was intense. She confessed very early on, one morning in bed to being older than 45 and me being amused at her white lie, as it matched his white hair and softly lined face. Love is a forgiving thing when pigmented with desire.
Julian after the end of our relationship sent me an email, urging my caution and telling me to Google Judy as there were video's of her "all over the web". I did Google her, but found an assortment of humerous and interesting videos of her shopping, out dancing with her "fellow" t-girls but nothing of a sexual or obscene nature. It was clearly an innocent hobby and part of t-girl culture. To share your good times, present as a passable woman and encourage other girls to step out of the closet. It was fun, it was what I needed to step out of my own dull domestic sphere of kids and poverty. Thanks to Julian's concerns, when Googling her I discovered Judy was a member of an online community called TVCHIX, which was designed to be an introductions site/ port for communication for transgendered people and their allies. I joined in order to surprise judy, show my allegience and devotion to her and hopefully keep in touch with my new friends. it was a twilight world where I was clearly needed and where I wanted to be.
I treasured every moment with her but it was too good to be true as a new friend called Angela was to show me. Angela wanted to break us up "for my own good!"
To my knowledge, at the start of our relationship and for the initial start of our friendship she was separated from her wife, living in a flat in North London. We would lie in bed and she would explain scientific theories to me and help me understand things that I would ordinarily have not understood as my studies had been to do with feminist theory, theology and literature. I was mentally aroused by her and felt valued. Again it felt like love, it was intense. She confessed very early on, one morning in bed to being older than 45 and me being amused at her white lie, as it matched his white hair and softly lined face. Love is a forgiving thing when pigmented with desire.
Julian after the end of our relationship sent me an email, urging my caution and telling me to Google Judy as there were video's of her "all over the web". I did Google her, but found an assortment of humerous and interesting videos of her shopping, out dancing with her "fellow" t-girls but nothing of a sexual or obscene nature. It was clearly an innocent hobby and part of t-girl culture. To share your good times, present as a passable woman and encourage other girls to step out of the closet. It was fun, it was what I needed to step out of my own dull domestic sphere of kids and poverty. Thanks to Julian's concerns, when Googling her I discovered Judy was a member of an online community called TVCHIX, which was designed to be an introductions site/ port for communication for transgendered people and their allies. I joined in order to surprise judy, show my allegience and devotion to her and hopefully keep in touch with my new friends. it was a twilight world where I was clearly needed and where I wanted to be.
I treasured every moment with her but it was too good to be true as a new friend called Angela was to show me. Angela wanted to break us up "for my own good!"
Saturday 2 January 2010
One foolish kiss
I had to catch a train to Manchester for my evening out with Judy,Julian dropped me off at the train station before he returned to his flat, he knew I was going for a meal with my Internet friend, I reassured him there was nothing to fear, I couldn't possibly feel an attraction for a transvestite and was hoping to start a good friendship with a kindred spirit and fellow academic. Anyway she always made me laugh and I spent too much time alone.
Sitting in the car, looking at his tall slouched frame, Julian looked uncertain "I know we haven't been together long but take care of yourself Tillie"
Looking at him, I thought him very sweet and I felt sorry for him, i felt no sense of obligation or duty. We had told each other we loved each other, but in hindsight, I was desperate to be loved and this is not the same as actually loving someone.
He looked worried and he was not alone in his concerns, another good friend was utterly convinced, that the slut with nuts would be a tranny-nutter and I would end up dismembered and scattered across town in bin bags, my head left in Moss Side and my arse in Didsbury. The very suggestion made me laugh, albeit nervously.
Once aboard the train, I applied basic make up to the best of my ability and kept running my hands over the pink and brown satin of my new demure Monsoon dress. My new heels pinching and quite precarious for a girl more accustomed to diesel dyke flatties than harlot's heels. I just wanted to feel pretty. I felt ridiculous really.
My mobile rang, i listened to a well spoken softened scouse accent.
"Hi Doll, it's Judy here, we are all here in the flat waiting for you, dinners on, I'm just going to text the address to you, let me know when you arrive?"
"OK then, will do, byeee"
I hung up, and my blood ran cold.. who was in the flat?, what flat? I felt a surge of fear, as my heartbeat increased, the dread gave me a subversive surge of adrenalin. It seemed dangerous, which in turn seemed delicious.
Standing on the Concourse of Piccidilly Station, I looked at the address of the flat, 365 The Atrium, I was unfamiliar with Manchester and wondered if they were private or council flats. I phoned Judy:
"Hi Hun,it's me, I've arrived, is The Atrium far?"
"It's ten minutes walk, go to the rank get a cab and I'll pay for it Tillie"
I declined, "I'll walk Judy, it's ok"
"That's my girl" She said- I detected something paternal in her approval.
Walking down Whitworth Street, I felt awkward in the new heels as if I was morphing into a women I no longer knew and where nothing is ever as it really seems.
I stood on the corner of Princess Street, looking for the flats, I felt disorientated surrounded by the large red brick Victorian buildings, ornate arched doorways and hundreds of windows, provided me with no clues.
My phone rang through the noise of the traffic
Judy
"Oh I can see you doll! your standing by the lights ina pretty dress... cross over, it's the first turning on the left, look for the black wrought iron gates!"
I glanced up at the building opposite, I saw no one, just windows black in the glare of the late efternoon sun, all unseeing , Judy had sounded excited and girlish. I took a deep breath for courage, I had stopped smoking two months earlier and could have eaten a pouch of tobacco.
It materialised that The Atrium was a rather swish block of self contained apartments, it was clean, modern, with a high ceilinged well lit foyer...I hesitated to approach reception, I felt like a hooker. A door swung open and an attractive woman, in a short ruched black dress, her high heels clacking on the tiles and black fishnets walked towards me, her long dark blond hair seemingly perfect, she was toned and fit:
"Hello Doll, we finally meet, sorry but I'm nervous as hell, always was a bit highly strung."
Her gaze absorbed the length of my body as if assessing me. The glance of a man.
Her smile revealed clean white teeth, her pinked lips, glossed and slightly irregular, we stood perfectly eye to eye...
"C'mon Tillie, follow me, I'll introduce you to the girls"
In the lift, mirrors, gave a varied perspective, and she glanced from the mirror to me, as if satisfied that a girl should be wth her, yet also reflected back at her. we exchanged small talk, our eye contact flickered, like a mutual fascination. "Your lovelier than your photos suggest" she said "Likewise" I replied,
"Ah but I'm all smoke and mirrors, you're the real deal Tillie."
She tapped gently on the door of the apartment.
A beautiful black haired, slender transvestite with a narrow face and dark eyes, greeted us, she smiled warmly, she wore a high waisted tightly tailored back pencil skirt and demure black satin blouse. Judy introduced us:
"Josie - Tillie"
"Tillie - Josie"
We shook hands, grinning.
I felt Judy's hand on the arch of my back, she steered me into the main room, Josie walked over to the kitchenette and continued chopping vegetables....
Sitting at the dinner table were two other t-girls - they were immaculate and well spoken. Judy sat next to me and offered me a glass of red wine, I craved it, I was feeling shy and unsure what as going to happen. one of the quieter girls, Linda, young and classy in an elegant blue beaded dress, opened her handbag and said "This blooming thing has been really puzzling me" I expected some bizarre object d'art, but it was a purple plastic sex toy with an array of probes that would baffle even the most liberated in these matters. Judy looked at me and apologised under her breath, I must have been blushing or emanated discomfort. As the girls debated how best to use the toy, I was aware that Judy's chair was so close her hip was touching mine.
She held my hand "Can I transform you?" she said
Josie interrupted - "Please do, Tillie looks like a librarian, I think she could be very hot" Judy noodded subtly in agreement - "In fact, young lady you can help me settle something that has been annoying me"
Judy topped up my glass.
"OK" I said
"Sort her make up out will you" instructed Josie.
I was led into the bathroom and placing her hands on my shoulder - she guided me to sit on the loo "Look up at me then close your eyes Tillie".
As she applied the sweet smelling make up to my face, she talked about her childhood in liverpool, making funny little quips that made me giggle. "now where's that lip liner?"
I kept my eyes closed and could feel her breath soft against my face, I was excited.
"You have such a kissable mouth Tillie"
I felt desired. I felt like a traitor.
Josie tapped on the door, calling out:
"Chop chop you two I need Tillie in the bedroom"
Josie, shoo shoed Judy away
"Right you, you look like a size 10, am I right or am I right?"
"you're right"
"KK, I ordered this bondage dress and the bloody shop is telling me their range of fetish clothes are designed for cross dressers, there's no way that's true, i'm a ten and my shoulders are busting the seams.... go on then strip off and let's see how it fits, I need this settled once and for all"
i looked at her blankly
I had no pants on under my tights
"I won't look - promise" She smiled
"Oh fuck it alright then" I sighed
I slipped out of my Monsoon dress and slipped the red bondage dress over my head, it fitted perfectly
"I bloody well knew it and it's unfair you look so much sexier in it Tillie!"
With that she yanked me into the living room
The girls looked up at me, open mouthed
"Well well" said Linda "I would hardly recognise you"
Photographs followed with Judy teaching me how to pout and pose (such a t-girl skill). I was getting drunker and starting to laugh at the absurd situation I was in.
I topped up my glass, I was engrossed in conversation with Judy and the music was seeming louder and her voice quieter, I leaned forward straining to hear her (I later discovered that the quiet talking technique is a pulling trick in Liverpool), She tipped my chin with the tip of her index finger and kissed me on the mouth, I felt like I was looking into my own eyes, she rested her forehead briefly to mine
"This mind merging experiment could go horribly wrong my dear" I said
And returned her kiss. her fingers sought out the soft fine hair on the nape of my neck and if I had been told we were in the company of others, I would sworn there was only us, on one singular orbit.
I asked the time, Julian was meeting me off the 10.30 train,
Some one replied it was 10.19
I paniced
I could not miss the last train
I rapidly changed and fled but in my addled confusion lost Judy in the corridor and only just made the last train.
I was destined to be in big trouble!
The next day, Julian hacked into my Facebook to check up on me and there read my apology to Judy for being so impolite at the table in front of her friends and for the inappropriate kiss. Julian's jealousy matching all the devilment we had not got up to. It was to be an irreversible ending, I did not want a boyfriend who checked up on me and he would never believe that it was less than I described it. It was too soon for me to have an inkling of what the Hell I wanted but the fun I had that night made me see I did not want this.
Sitting in the car, looking at his tall slouched frame, Julian looked uncertain "I know we haven't been together long but take care of yourself Tillie"
Looking at him, I thought him very sweet and I felt sorry for him, i felt no sense of obligation or duty. We had told each other we loved each other, but in hindsight, I was desperate to be loved and this is not the same as actually loving someone.
He looked worried and he was not alone in his concerns, another good friend was utterly convinced, that the slut with nuts would be a tranny-nutter and I would end up dismembered and scattered across town in bin bags, my head left in Moss Side and my arse in Didsbury. The very suggestion made me laugh, albeit nervously.
Once aboard the train, I applied basic make up to the best of my ability and kept running my hands over the pink and brown satin of my new demure Monsoon dress. My new heels pinching and quite precarious for a girl more accustomed to diesel dyke flatties than harlot's heels. I just wanted to feel pretty. I felt ridiculous really.
My mobile rang, i listened to a well spoken softened scouse accent.
"Hi Doll, it's Judy here, we are all here in the flat waiting for you, dinners on, I'm just going to text the address to you, let me know when you arrive?"
"OK then, will do, byeee"
I hung up, and my blood ran cold.. who was in the flat?, what flat? I felt a surge of fear, as my heartbeat increased, the dread gave me a subversive surge of adrenalin. It seemed dangerous, which in turn seemed delicious.
Standing on the Concourse of Piccidilly Station, I looked at the address of the flat, 365 The Atrium, I was unfamiliar with Manchester and wondered if they were private or council flats. I phoned Judy:
"Hi Hun,it's me, I've arrived, is The Atrium far?"
"It's ten minutes walk, go to the rank get a cab and I'll pay for it Tillie"
I declined, "I'll walk Judy, it's ok"
"That's my girl" She said- I detected something paternal in her approval.
Walking down Whitworth Street, I felt awkward in the new heels as if I was morphing into a women I no longer knew and where nothing is ever as it really seems.
I stood on the corner of Princess Street, looking for the flats, I felt disorientated surrounded by the large red brick Victorian buildings, ornate arched doorways and hundreds of windows, provided me with no clues.
My phone rang through the noise of the traffic
Judy
"Oh I can see you doll! your standing by the lights ina pretty dress... cross over, it's the first turning on the left, look for the black wrought iron gates!"
I glanced up at the building opposite, I saw no one, just windows black in the glare of the late efternoon sun, all unseeing , Judy had sounded excited and girlish. I took a deep breath for courage, I had stopped smoking two months earlier and could have eaten a pouch of tobacco.
It materialised that The Atrium was a rather swish block of self contained apartments, it was clean, modern, with a high ceilinged well lit foyer...I hesitated to approach reception, I felt like a hooker. A door swung open and an attractive woman, in a short ruched black dress, her high heels clacking on the tiles and black fishnets walked towards me, her long dark blond hair seemingly perfect, she was toned and fit:
"Hello Doll, we finally meet, sorry but I'm nervous as hell, always was a bit highly strung."
Her gaze absorbed the length of my body as if assessing me. The glance of a man.
Her smile revealed clean white teeth, her pinked lips, glossed and slightly irregular, we stood perfectly eye to eye...
"C'mon Tillie, follow me, I'll introduce you to the girls"
In the lift, mirrors, gave a varied perspective, and she glanced from the mirror to me, as if satisfied that a girl should be wth her, yet also reflected back at her. we exchanged small talk, our eye contact flickered, like a mutual fascination. "Your lovelier than your photos suggest" she said "Likewise" I replied,
"Ah but I'm all smoke and mirrors, you're the real deal Tillie."
She tapped gently on the door of the apartment.
A beautiful black haired, slender transvestite with a narrow face and dark eyes, greeted us, she smiled warmly, she wore a high waisted tightly tailored back pencil skirt and demure black satin blouse. Judy introduced us:
"Josie - Tillie"
"Tillie - Josie"
We shook hands, grinning.
I felt Judy's hand on the arch of my back, she steered me into the main room, Josie walked over to the kitchenette and continued chopping vegetables....
Sitting at the dinner table were two other t-girls - they were immaculate and well spoken. Judy sat next to me and offered me a glass of red wine, I craved it, I was feeling shy and unsure what as going to happen. one of the quieter girls, Linda, young and classy in an elegant blue beaded dress, opened her handbag and said "This blooming thing has been really puzzling me" I expected some bizarre object d'art, but it was a purple plastic sex toy with an array of probes that would baffle even the most liberated in these matters. Judy looked at me and apologised under her breath, I must have been blushing or emanated discomfort. As the girls debated how best to use the toy, I was aware that Judy's chair was so close her hip was touching mine.
She held my hand "Can I transform you?" she said
Josie interrupted - "Please do, Tillie looks like a librarian, I think she could be very hot" Judy noodded subtly in agreement - "In fact, young lady you can help me settle something that has been annoying me"
Judy topped up my glass.
"OK" I said
"Sort her make up out will you" instructed Josie.
I was led into the bathroom and placing her hands on my shoulder - she guided me to sit on the loo "Look up at me then close your eyes Tillie".
As she applied the sweet smelling make up to my face, she talked about her childhood in liverpool, making funny little quips that made me giggle. "now where's that lip liner?"
I kept my eyes closed and could feel her breath soft against my face, I was excited.
"You have such a kissable mouth Tillie"
I felt desired. I felt like a traitor.
Josie tapped on the door, calling out:
"Chop chop you two I need Tillie in the bedroom"
Josie, shoo shoed Judy away
"Right you, you look like a size 10, am I right or am I right?"
"you're right"
"KK, I ordered this bondage dress and the bloody shop is telling me their range of fetish clothes are designed for cross dressers, there's no way that's true, i'm a ten and my shoulders are busting the seams.... go on then strip off and let's see how it fits, I need this settled once and for all"
i looked at her blankly
I had no pants on under my tights
"I won't look - promise" She smiled
"Oh fuck it alright then" I sighed
I slipped out of my Monsoon dress and slipped the red bondage dress over my head, it fitted perfectly
"I bloody well knew it and it's unfair you look so much sexier in it Tillie!"
With that she yanked me into the living room
The girls looked up at me, open mouthed
"Well well" said Linda "I would hardly recognise you"
Photographs followed with Judy teaching me how to pout and pose (such a t-girl skill). I was getting drunker and starting to laugh at the absurd situation I was in.
I topped up my glass, I was engrossed in conversation with Judy and the music was seeming louder and her voice quieter, I leaned forward straining to hear her (I later discovered that the quiet talking technique is a pulling trick in Liverpool), She tipped my chin with the tip of her index finger and kissed me on the mouth, I felt like I was looking into my own eyes, she rested her forehead briefly to mine
"This mind merging experiment could go horribly wrong my dear" I said
And returned her kiss. her fingers sought out the soft fine hair on the nape of my neck and if I had been told we were in the company of others, I would sworn there was only us, on one singular orbit.
I asked the time, Julian was meeting me off the 10.30 train,
Some one replied it was 10.19
I paniced
I could not miss the last train
I rapidly changed and fled but in my addled confusion lost Judy in the corridor and only just made the last train.
I was destined to be in big trouble!
The next day, Julian hacked into my Facebook to check up on me and there read my apology to Judy for being so impolite at the table in front of her friends and for the inappropriate kiss. Julian's jealousy matching all the devilment we had not got up to. It was to be an irreversible ending, I did not want a boyfriend who checked up on me and he would never believe that it was less than I described it. It was too soon for me to have an inkling of what the Hell I wanted but the fun I had that night made me see I did not want this.
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