I am not sure what is worse? The past in which I was the liar or the present where I reveal the truth, only to find people running for cover. Pay back time? I guess so.

Many girls go stealth. Meaning they bury their pasts. Severe all links with people who remember and still see only that person of the past. They then start a new life in a new closet and pray to God that they never get found out.

I am not sure which is worst, hiding the true self in the past and living up to the expectations of others, or hiding the past and it’s false presentation to live up to the true self at the risk of being abandoned with out a second thought.

Perhaps in years to come, many years to come, the stigma that labeled girls like me with the totally incorrect image of a soulless sex toy with freaky features and nothing more but a fetish “please don’t ever tell anyone about our little no strings attached fling”, will yield to the truth of just how much women we are.

I wonder still, I wonder after all this pain, fear and suffering, who is going to want me now?

To all my trusted readers and followers,thanks and please feel free to comment.

I made a major change to my blog so that my newest post will now be listed first ....

Enjoy .....

So why is it that when a boy wants to play with dolls and wear a dress, he gets a slap and discouraged? My sister was as tomboy as they come. Much to my dispare she was encourage to be "strong" and play with my toys, boy toys.

Could no one see and understand that I could not be this boy? I mean here I was a little bambino with an empty brain, no experience, no knowledge and no real understanding of anything other the this instinctive sense of wanting to survive.

In my understanding, survival has a range of ingredients and one of them has to be HAPPY, surely? So why was I not happy, content and why did I have this instinctive sense of wanting to be like my mother? Oh, I had no reason to fear or hate my father. In my eyes he was the protector, the provider and with him around I felt safe and secure. The problem was seeing myself as a man he had come to be. I had no inclination, no reason, no need and no urge to want to be like him.

If given the free choice of selecting my gender by instinct and not by my genitals, then female would be my choice without on moment of doubt. So while my sister had so much freedom to express herself, I was stuck in this forever feeling of hopelesnes and denied the right to be me.

For why is not to ask, just be what is expected of you ..........