Sounds like a breakfast cereal, "mini posts the cure for the common breakfast". Blame the corny cereal jokes on the episode of Mad Men I watched last night. Did you see it? Peggy stripped and I still want to be Joan (who wouldn’t?)!
Not Quite April
Presenting as April at home is one of the steps forward that my spouse and I talked about when we were discussing telling the children. For three evenings last week after the children went to bed I have changed into casual April wear, girl jeans, blouse and bra for the slight breast development that the past five months or so on hormones have happily provided.
At first I was quite uncomfortable in this not quite April stage, no makeup, no overtly feminine clothes or high heels. Basically what any woman would wear after work, dishes and bedtime stories. I do feel more comfortable in my own skin and more relaxed but this in between stage is a little hard to look at I the mirror. I want to see the woman I am inside but the guy keeps intruding…and he is not welcome!
My hair is the longest it has ever been and if I don’t comb it back as I do in guy mode I can let my bangs fall naturally over my forehead, hiding the typically male widows peak hair line. I am seriously considering finding a stylist who will have a go at giving me a female cut that could be easily be combed from female to male. If not….back to short back and sides.
My spouse had been great and remembers most of the tome to call me April and even use female pronouns. Next step is to introduce my female wardrobe to daylight hours and the children.
Depression and Frustration
I didn’t get out this weekend and the inability to be fully April, even for a short time weighted heavily on my mind. I am better than before, a few months ago I would be super depressed. Therapy has helped deal with the depression and perhaps I can see a brief light at the end of the tunnel where I will be April all the time.
Prison of Masculinity
Part of the reason I could not get out was the male part of my life had too many demands. The Lincoln Mark IV is still on the disabled list. I pulled the fuel pump and have started to rebuild the carb as both the garage I are in agreement that the problem is fuel delivery related. I didn’t get a chance to finish the job as the shop gave me the wrong fuel pump and filter! Covered in gasoline and grease and feeling anything but feminine I needed a 45 minute shower to get all the crud off me.
No replacement could be sourced Sunday so I finally had to tackle the floor repair on my Oldsmobile Toronado. I had stripped the interior and removed all the wet sound deadening material due to a sunroof leak. Satisfied that I found and fixed the leak (oh god I hope so!) I have to strip off the surface rust on the floor, fix a small hole and repaint before the interior can go back in. I got most of the sanding and painting done last night and reinstalled the power driver’s seat….heavy. The plan is to put a top coat on the floor tonight and drive her to work Tuesday. We had a hot weekend and I was drenched in sweat and covered in metal and rust fragments by the time I was done for the evening. Time for the second long shower of the day.
Sorry, getting carried away with all the car stuff, the point is that I was rather down about having to do all these car repairs, like a guy. I love the cars but don’t really enjoy the getting dirty part anymore. The cars were feeling like a self made prison and I strongly resented the time I was spending on them. The defensive wall I had built out of cars to keep the pink fog out was now a prison forcing me to still be a man.
A rationalization of the fleet is coming. I wish I could keep the most expensive ones but they may well go to finance surgeries.
Peace and Hope
I don’t know if I consciously applied any of the techniques I have learned for fighting depression. But a long shower, shaved legs and then slipping into a soft cotton nightie and a fuzzy robe really helped. I curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea and watched the latest episode of Mad Men. Simple pleasures but everything seemed a better, I felt peaceful, I felt like me and some hope returned.
Hugs,
April
Not Quite April
Presenting as April at home is one of the steps forward that my spouse and I talked about when we were discussing telling the children. For three evenings last week after the children went to bed I have changed into casual April wear, girl jeans, blouse and bra for the slight breast development that the past five months or so on hormones have happily provided.
At first I was quite uncomfortable in this not quite April stage, no makeup, no overtly feminine clothes or high heels. Basically what any woman would wear after work, dishes and bedtime stories. I do feel more comfortable in my own skin and more relaxed but this in between stage is a little hard to look at I the mirror. I want to see the woman I am inside but the guy keeps intruding…and he is not welcome!
My hair is the longest it has ever been and if I don’t comb it back as I do in guy mode I can let my bangs fall naturally over my forehead, hiding the typically male widows peak hair line. I am seriously considering finding a stylist who will have a go at giving me a female cut that could be easily be combed from female to male. If not….back to short back and sides.
My spouse had been great and remembers most of the tome to call me April and even use female pronouns. Next step is to introduce my female wardrobe to daylight hours and the children.
Depression and Frustration
I didn’t get out this weekend and the inability to be fully April, even for a short time weighted heavily on my mind. I am better than before, a few months ago I would be super depressed. Therapy has helped deal with the depression and perhaps I can see a brief light at the end of the tunnel where I will be April all the time.
Prison of Masculinity
Part of the reason I could not get out was the male part of my life had too many demands. The Lincoln Mark IV is still on the disabled list. I pulled the fuel pump and have started to rebuild the carb as both the garage I are in agreement that the problem is fuel delivery related. I didn’t get a chance to finish the job as the shop gave me the wrong fuel pump and filter! Covered in gasoline and grease and feeling anything but feminine I needed a 45 minute shower to get all the crud off me.
No replacement could be sourced Sunday so I finally had to tackle the floor repair on my Oldsmobile Toronado. I had stripped the interior and removed all the wet sound deadening material due to a sunroof leak. Satisfied that I found and fixed the leak (oh god I hope so!) I have to strip off the surface rust on the floor, fix a small hole and repaint before the interior can go back in. I got most of the sanding and painting done last night and reinstalled the power driver’s seat….heavy. The plan is to put a top coat on the floor tonight and drive her to work Tuesday. We had a hot weekend and I was drenched in sweat and covered in metal and rust fragments by the time I was done for the evening. Time for the second long shower of the day.
Sorry, getting carried away with all the car stuff, the point is that I was rather down about having to do all these car repairs, like a guy. I love the cars but don’t really enjoy the getting dirty part anymore. The cars were feeling like a self made prison and I strongly resented the time I was spending on them. The defensive wall I had built out of cars to keep the pink fog out was now a prison forcing me to still be a man.
A rationalization of the fleet is coming. I wish I could keep the most expensive ones but they may well go to finance surgeries.
Peace and Hope
I don’t know if I consciously applied any of the techniques I have learned for fighting depression. But a long shower, shaved legs and then slipping into a soft cotton nightie and a fuzzy robe really helped. I curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea and watched the latest episode of Mad Men. Simple pleasures but everything seemed a better, I felt peaceful, I felt like me and some hope returned.
Hugs,
April
