transretrogurl

Yeah, so it’s been a while since the last post. Apologies for that, I managed to hit the proverbial wall and have been fighting that most dreaded of gurl-effects, the ‘cycle’.

I’ve talked about it before – that roller-coaster ride that only a t-gurl can appreciate. One day you’re on top of the world, everything is bright in a beautiful pink way, and the next you’re down as far as you can go, contemplating burning all aspects of her and going back to drab forever.

Why is it such a cycle? I’ve gone through the ‘napalm-the-earth-then-salt-it’ about six times now, each time removing everything of Sarah and her previous incarnations, taking a deep breath and stepping out into the male world again.

And I came close to doing it all again this time. Very close.

It was a number of things. A sudden lack of confidence, a sudden fear of discovery, reaching the point where all the lovely things about Sarah were over-powered by the fear, the worry. Lots of insidious little thoughts like ‘Sarah is just a chemical imbalance’, ‘Sarah is just him hating himself’ and ‘Sarah isn’t attractive or feminine’.

Yeah, that was fun (irony).

So, three months or so of throwing myself into work, growing the beard, thinking seriously of deleting her online persona. Some serious time trying to get it clear in my head.

And I didn’t throw it all away. For the first time in my life I rode the waves of darkness, put the black dog back in its kennel for another day. It was as if I had set off a safety valve.

But it meant ignoring her. Ignoring the urge to surf the web for more glam frocks for her. Ignoring the urge to just jump on a train and let the fabulous Cindy bring Sarah out.

And it was hard. Yeah, the ultimate first-world problem I know, but for some reason everything felt worse this time, felt jagged. Possibly because I didn’t have the option of just putting her away and purging her stuff. Too many people that I love now know and having spent an evening in a frock with my best friend the ‘I’m not really a T’ excuse won’t fly.

And that’s why it was so hard. There’s always been a get-out clause, a point at which I didn’t have to look into a mirror and see two people. When it was a secret I could simply throw everything away and lie to myself that I don’t genuinely enjoy being her.

That realisation was like a perfumed slap in the face. And I rode it out.

So, Sarah is spending Xmas in her room in my head, dreaming of girlie-frocks and lippy. In january she will be back and next year, well, let’s see where that goes. At the start of last year she was still a dirty little secret, at the end of the year my closest friends know and that’s good enough for now.

The roller coaster is heading back up the hill towards the next loop and she didn’t fall out. That’s good enough for me.

There’ll be a couple of other blog posts written by Sarah just to let her flex her muscles. Then January she has some very nice outfits to play dress-up in. I’m looking forward to it without the dread and guilt, and she is absolutely looking forward to it.

So stay beautiful sweeties and remember – whenever you get down and the darkness is crushing you, there is light. What you are feeling is inside – the only person you have to be comfortable with is him. Or her. Or both.