Forever Young

We have all been emotionally exhausted this week but we still managed to have a lovely relaxing day celebrating my dear Mums birthday, who in spite of all the worry I have caused her, looks half her tender years of age.

We went to my cousins son "R" funeral on Monday. The rains poured down, so did the tears but so did the love.

This was to be a very special occasion for our small family and a legion of friends, to celebrate the life of a wonderful inspiring brave young man. All of the familiar religious aspects of the service were kept to a minimum. My memories of his life, his great courage and this day have renewed my outlook on life.

As the congregation solemnly walked into the church "R" favourite music played, Kanye West Family Business http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acxWwlklFOk

There were so many of my cousins son, young friends there, the crematorium was packed. Music was his love, his passion and through this his talents shone. He never moaned always tried to smile, always had a word to say to everyone he meet, without prejudice, with a warm heart.

We watched him grow from a baby to a man. His Mum doted on him. His Dad loved his son so much, they were so close. During his teenage years when he was not in hospital he would often be in his bedroom mixing his music, headphones on, feeling every rhythm, in his own world. He was born to be a DJ. He was a natural. We never got to see him perform but clearly many did. The congregation was full with the beautiful radiant young friends he had made from the night club world he loved so much.

I have never seen so many people, so many young people at a funeral. The readings by his girlfriends and his best mate were both humbling and heartbreaking. He was from a different generation to me, a face book generation. He lived for each day and his incredible spirit proved an inspiration to so many as he continually overcame so many life threatening challenges, with a cheeky quip and a smile.

His grieving brother asked they play the song Forever Young by Jay-Z http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a5skK_WXwNQ This songs words are so poignant and left me in floods tears both at the time and when I played them several days later. The music was new to me, from a different generation but it spoke volumes and felt so powerful.

You should never judge people by appearances. In the words of his Mum "to see him some days with his raggedy jeans hanging all over the place you would never believe the kind of person he was". He refused to compromise his life and lived every day he could, like it may be his last.

After the events explained in my previous post the only concession I made to my appearance was to tone my make up down slightly. When we filled into the service there were no seats left and the music playing had slightly unsettled my Dad whose musical taste is from a very different era. We found ourselves directed to a crowd who were standing huddled by the doors near the front, the only space left. Without being asked the young mourners seated in the front row beckoned us to take there places. Young people unfairly too often get a bad press these days, especially those who go out to enjoy a good night out. There is good and bad in everyone regardless of age gender or race.

Seeing "R" coffin directly in front of us between the curtains and listening to all heart rending readings including several from face book comments made me feel so humble, so aware of our own mortality and how fragile life can be. I was not alone as I cried my eyes out, like so many others, whoose cries echoed through the room. When the service was over and we had all payed our respects we walked outside, to a shelter from the deluge of rain, that would not stop, just like the torrent of emotions.

In a sea of young mourners we noticed Dads sister, my auntie who has dementia, cast adrift, looking heart broken, vulnerable and so alone. My cousin was doing her best trying to thank everyone for coming, her husband was in pieces with grief, her remaining son elsewhere in need of some quiet space, leaving my Auntie to fend for herself. We rushed to comfort her at the same time dreading how she may react. She was so pleased to see some old familiar faces.

To see my Dad finally talking with his sister again face to face rebuilding their friendship was a great comfort. She recognised my Mum and her friend we had bought along with us. Not wishing to unsettle her I waited patiently to see any recognition of me, longing to reach out to her but she was totally bemused as to who I, the complete stranger was. The time was right, it really was a case of now or never so as reluctantly agreed with my cousin, Dad introduced the strange woman who was standing alongside her very discretely as Rob. "I did not recognise you, you rascal, you have grown so much taller" she said as we hugged. I have always had long hair and her recollection was probably from me many years ago due to her condition. A very minor piece of family business in proceedings, our small family had been dreading could possibly divide our family for ever, had been overcome. Sadly with her short term memory being so bad she has probably already forgotten the encounter but hopefully it will make a difference to our family. If only her cruel condition would allow her to forget the pain she feels at losing her beloved grandson which will I am sure stay with her for ever and remember only the wonderful times they shared together.

There was a small price to pay as it hurt for a moment being called Rob and it still felt perhaps a compromise too much at the time. It weakened my self respect a little but it was worth it, for family unity. Is a little compromise not a price worth paying to unite a family and prevent a life time of regret? I guess it depends on how much you value what is at stake. I know for me, from my humble life experience, there is a huge difference between sacrificing your life for your loved ones wishes/feelings and small compromises. Life is too short. The day was all about "R" not me. When it came to us offering our condolences to both my cousin, her husband and remaining son, we all exchanged hugs and kisses, no words could ever heal the pain we were all experiencing. As the service came to a close the song associated with his favourite sport football "You'll never walk alone " http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJ-jYTKtXVI hauntingly played out. Music was his life his love and his spirit will live on forever.

I have since spoken to my cousin who was so very brave, she was comforted by the incredible show of affection for her beloved son by so many. She has given her blessing for us to resume visiting her Mum again as our meeting did not cause any adverse reaction. So this outcome at least means our remaining family can be reunited, we can now visit my Auntie again. My cousin may be able to gain some much needed respite from caring for her Mum when she needs to, as we can now openly help her as we had always wanted to. In a day of tremendous sadness this really was a small chink of light. Mum Dad and I and our remaining family got through a day that will live forever in our hearts.

Sometimes on this journey through life we have to compromise, sometimes I feel old before my years, sometimes only recently I have felt reborn, almost a second puberty, like a teenager, only knowing by my life experiences "I know nothing" but in my heart I wish I could be forever young.

Happy Easter
Peace be with you
Love
Debbie

In Loving Memory

Tomorrow is the funeral of my cousin’s young son. It is to be a time to remember him, to celebrate his life. Life is about creating special memories. Tomorrow is going to be a very emotional day for so many reasons.

His close family have asked for the funeral to be very formal, everyone attending has to wear black. This was requested by R and for a very informal fun loving guy with lots of young friends was something of a surprise.

Sadly our small family only ever seem to meet up at funerals in recent years. None of us are going to find the day easy but for my Cousin and her Mum it is going to be particularly hard. No Grandma expects to out live their Grandchildren. My Auntie the Grandma I refer to also has dementia. Her memories of long ago are often very sharp but those of the immediate recent times are often very confused. Any change is very unsettling for her. Her constant daily phone calls are heartbreaking to listen to. One time in tears, the next temporarily oblivious to the loss of her beloved Grandson. My cousin was at breaking point a month ago before the tragedy, trying to decide how best to care for her Mum.

When we informed my cousin two years ago about my need to transition she was very supportive but had asked us not to try to explain it to my Auntie. She was concerned it would only make her worse or possibly lead to her being abusive towards us. My parents were against this and I was not happy but understood my cousin’s feelings. This caused difficulties between my Dad and his sister which was the last thing I wanted. Some very cruel comments had been exchanged. I have been asked by my cousin never to appear as myself in front of my Auntie. It seems such a simple price to pay for family unity and peace but having to compromise myself now seems terribly unsettling which in turn makes me feel selfish. It made me feel quite ill having to comply with this at the previous Christmas but the funeral is far harder. We used to have much larger family gatherings, of which we have many happy memories of these times. Sadly our family are now nearly all gone.

For the funeral tomorrow I have to try to dress up androgynously and be referred to as Bob so as not to upset my poor Auntie. My heart goes out to my cousin and her Mum. Tomorrow is for my cousin's son "R" and for them; our feelings are very much secondary. My Mum and I find loss very very hard to cope with. She feels sorry for me having to compromise but she should not have to. I have never been a man but I know what it will feel like to put that mask back on, and it feels a million times worse having lived truthfully to myself for over two years.

We are all going to be emotional tomorrow, all our thoughts will be for my cousin's son "R". I know we are going to cry our eyes out. My Mum has gently reminded me to remove all traces of mascara, which seems so superficial yet….We must get through this together, as a family. I want to pay my respects to "R" and support our family, without letting anyone down or being a source for any family disharmony on such an occasion.

Since I last posted here so much has happened. My Mum has been very ill again but thankfully she has been stable for a few days now. I had to rush her to the doctors after she came off the tablets which had been causing her to wheeze. They did lots of tests but she just could not get her breath properly. They concluded it must have been a major panic attack as most of her readings appeared fine.

One test result was very worrying. An ECG revealed that unknowingly to any of us my Mum had actually suffered a heart attack at some point since her last test four years ago. My biggest fear was that the strain I had caused in needing to transition would harm her health in any way. The guilt of hurting those we love is for me far more painful than any of the physical challenges of the surgical changes we may feel we need to make.

Last Friday I had to rush home from my voluntary work at the hospital as my Dad had fallen over in the shower. He was bruised and a bit shaken but nothing more. Today he kicked every ball watching his favourite team play in a cup final on the television, which he shared with his daughter, while Mum slept peacefully with our corgi curled up on her lap. A treasured memory.

I am not sure quite how all our family are ever going to get through tomorrow but I have to keep my faith that we will.

May tomorrow be kind to you.

Love
Debbie

Our "Brave Heart" has gone to heaven.

My cousin’s beloved son R, has tragically collapsed and died. At the tender young age of 29. Our small family has lost a hero and heaven has gained an Angel.

His Mum told us the awful news we were all dreading, today on Mothers day in the UK, of all days. She was understandably devastated and said she will never ever get over his tragic death.
How she is going to be able to break the news to her Mum who has dementia and dotes on her grandchild I cannot begin to imagine, the pain they must all be experiencing.

He had been through so many challenges in his short life. I wrote about him and his dear Mum in my previous blog “A Mothers love”, we were all praying for a miracle, now he has gone and his family are completely shattered. Our tears feel like they will never stop.

He had Leukaemia at the age of 9. He received the most wonderful care and he and his family were supported brilliantly by “Leukemia Busters” the children's leukemia research charity http://www.leukaemiabusters.org.uk/pages/home.aspx


The life saving therapy and medication he received as a child unfortunately had many terrible side effects, some of which had weakened his heart. At 18 his heart become so bad he was advised he needed a heart transplant. He agonised over the difficult decision. In the end he had little choice but to agree as he had become so seriously ill, he was given only a short time to live. How difficult it must have been for him to decide what to do. How would he feel having another persons heart beating inside him? I digress but I think about how I have found my journey very spiritual and what happens to our soul if we find ourselves going through such a process and wonder if this played a small part in his concerns. His biggest worry must have been that in agreeing to the heart transplant they were all made aware that the new heart would only have a limited life span before it would become very tired, a period of approximately 10 years. Life is so precious.

For him to have a chance of extending his life at that time, another family had suffered a terrible loss. It must have been so hard and so brave of the family of the donor to agree to the life saving organ donation in their hours of grief. If you have not joined the organ donation register you can apply here for the UK http://www.organdonation.nhs.uk/ukt/default.jsp

"R" survived the heart transplant only to have the leukaemia come back once more. Again his spirit and the brilliant medical care he received pulled him through. He and his family cherished each day never knowing what might happen. He loved playing sports with his Dad. He gave up his job in a shop and followed his dream of becoming a DJ. It would have been understandable had his parents become over protective but they allowed him to flourish. He lived life as best he could, to the full. He had lots of friends. He had the most amazing smile and was a big hit with the girls and had many admirers.

When I think of those who are sadly rejected by their family, their loved ones, over needing to make life saving / life changing decisions or are shunned for following their dreams, I think of the courage Richard and his family showed by living each day to the max with complete love and support.

Sadly last week he became ill watching football with his family, something he always loved doing. He was rushed to a specialist hospital only to collapse once more. His brave heart could take no more. His life which began only a short time ago in 1989 has been tragically ended. He will never ever be forgotten. He truly touched so many of our hearts.

My thoughts are with my beloved Cousin's son "R", my devastated Cousin, her husband and his brother at this time.

Rest in Peace dear R.
Today heaven has a new Angel, a true Saint with the bravest of hearts

Love
Debbie xxxxxxxx

A Mothers love

I would like to dedicate this posting to my Cousin who is a wonderful Mum whose love knows no bounds. She has a husband and two boys who are grown up now and looks after her Mum who has dementia. One of her boys health problems have been a constant worry to her.

On Tuesday we received the news my Cousins son had been rushed into hospital again. He has been through so much in his young 29 years. His Mum has been under so much strain. At 9 he was diagnosed with leukaemia. After lengthy treatment with terrible side effects he somehow found the strength to pull through. He lost all his energy; all of his hair and an important part of his childhood, that he could never get back.

At 18 his heart became too weak to keep working, it had been damaged by all the chemotherapy and prescriptions medication. At first he refused a transplant. He had already suffered enough at this stage in his young life, at the time he felt like he could not face any more surgery after all he had been through. Eventually at the 11th hour his will to live; much to the relief of his parents caused him to agree to the heart transplant that miraculously became available out of another poor persons tragic misfortune.

With his immune system so susceptible to illness his nightmare and that of his loved ones came true, the leukaemia returned once more. Again the brilliant medical staff and his incredible courage and spirit saw him through another life threatening challenge. As a result of going through all the treatment and terrible side effects once again the poor love was also told he would not be able to father a child.

Eventually he found the strength to try to return to a normal life. At first he had a 9 till 5 job working in a shop but this was not enough for him. He and his family have been living one day at a time for so long. His dear Mum put on a very brave face. She knew that the new heart would only last for so long. They have all had to live with this time bomb.

He had always loved music and sport. He was a very handsome young man and very popular with his many friends. He pursued his dreams of becoming a DJ which he became very successful at. He had several girlfriends but alas he knew his health would always be a problem and did not want to have them go through what he had already experienced and put his family through. Recently he sadly split up with a girl who appeared to be the love of his life. This week he attended a sports event and collapsed. His mum and Dad are now by his bedside in a hospital in London hoping for a miracle.

My thoughts and prayers are with them. I hope his dear Mums love will find a way to heal him and her prayers be answered this coming Mothers Day.

I have been having a really difficult time and had to stay off my voluntary work in the last ten days or so I thought until the news we received put it all in perspective. I had written several therapeutic pages to get it out of my system. They were full of self pity which I stopped short of blogging about. I felt guilty letting everyone down. My parents, the people I should have been working with, the doctors who had helped me get this far and the kind friends who had supported me. I had perhaps been doing too much, trying too hard and felt like a light had gone out inside of me. Balancing my life as a carer and trying to find work alongside my heart telling me I needed to be there for my Mum and Dad as they are becoming increasingly frail had left me shattered. As my health has improved so much it feels a little like role reversal in my relationship with my parents. They still need their independence but they need my help more and more. It’s a two way thing in which we both have to be careful not to Mother each other too much as it can be unhealthy. As much as we love each other there is a fine line between Mother and smother. I would love to have been a Mum. I will never know but I feel sure I would not have made a very good parent. I have so much respect for all the good parents out there who are simply amazing.

I had been having insecurities about my appearance as a working woman ,as I began to increase my working hours, some out of vanity, some still dysphoric, some bordering on body dysmorphia. I have also experienced distressing reminders those that transition often get jarred with as well as how impossible it would be for me to deny my mental health history when applying for any position of employment. For a time depression engulfed me and I thought this must be simply post op blues. It was only while visiting my GP for more post op treatment this week that he discovered from some blood tests I was actually anaemic which explained my tiredness. Having a label, a reason in this case helped make sense of how tired I had become.

I know how lucky I am and at the same time I know this life would not be easy for my loved ones or for me. My dear Mum had worried every time I visited London once a month for almost twleve years that her biggest nightmare would come true, that I would one day need to transition. On Monday she will see her daughter travel to see the gender specialist, probably one last time for her post op appoint, with her blessing and unconditional love.

Sometimes we need to see our worries in relation to others to appreciate just how lucky we are.

To all of those Mums out there, God bless you all. None of us would be here without you. To all of you lucky enough to still have your Mums, treasure every moment and build as many happy memories as you can. For those of you who have lost your beloved Mums my heart goes out to you. I am so lucky to still have such a special Mum. For my dear Mum I just want to finish with these humble words.

I love you Mum, so very much.
Happy Mothers Day
Love
Debbie xxxxxxxx

Please say a prayer for my cousins dear Son. May all your worries be small.

PS I would just like to thank my dear friend Julia whose timely phone call this afternoon really lifted my spirits.

Face values

How we see our selves and how others see us are two different things. That perception can sometimes make or break our lives and have a great impact on our self belief.

I recently completed the commission shown here for a friend. She had asked me if I could do a pencil portrait of her granddaughter from a small photograph. I usually only paint animals as they do not seem to have the insecurities we have. For many years I had found animals much easier to relate to than people.

The last portrait I did was a painting for my parents golden wedding anniversary. It was based on a treasured sepia photo of them both when they first met in their early twenties. Dad loved it, Mum hated it. I was not even a twinkle in their eye when it was taken. After my Mums severe critique I vowed never to attempt another portrait.

With convalescing and now my attempts to gain further work experience and hopefully a paid job I have not been able to paint since last July. A mixture of a lack of confidence, time, the cold in my studio(converted small bedroom) and my parents conservatory where I could use oils and feelings of guilt that I should be using my time more fruitfully had temporarily cut off my creativity. With a very exiting creative project producing murals, I have been asked to do at my local hospital, looming, I had to drive my butterflies away. If people ask me to help I always try to say yes and it felt nice to be asked. I offered to produce a sketch rather than a detailed portrait as I felt I lacked the skills to produce a professional portrait. I got some great advice from some artistic friends who specialize in graphite pencil work.

I used very thick water colour paper 638g Not rag paper from Paper works and Derwent water soluble Graphitone pencils light and medium pencils together with dark and very dark non soluble derwent graphitone. I was given the following useful tips by an expert graphite artist. You can use blue tack to lift many light unintentional marks on the paper. You can also use cotton wool pads to blend. Fabrino Aristico paper is supposed to be very good for pencil work. Faber-Castel Graphite pencils and or Grafwood Carndache pencils http://www.carandache.ch/m/la-couleur/artistes-et-professionnels/les-crayons/graphite-line/index.lbl which are Swiss made and cost £1.99 each. For beginners Derwent Graphite approx £6 for a tin are a good starting kit.

Saturday I nervously arrived at my friend’s door to meet her and her daughter. As I walked in there was a young child who looked somehow familiar from the photo. I had never met the granddaughter or her Mum before. I was not 100% sure if it was the grand daughter I had just drawn or another member of the family. I had asked my friend tell her daughter to be totally honest and been assured by my friend that her daughter would certainly say if anything was wrong with the picture. The image in the photo was quite small but the child was clearly beautiful, absolutely perfect in her Mums eyes. The difficulty as an artist doing a portrait is to decide how honest you try to portray an image and how much you subtly change before it no longer captures that person’s uniqueness. Thankfully her Mum was thrilled and her daughter recognized herself immediately. The innocence of youth. Out of the mouth of babes. I was so relieved although my humble picture could never do her justice. Her name is in the title of //www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjsDZlV7ABw I love the cute mouse in the video.

Like many artists I am uncomfortable with pricing my work or knowing what to ask for a fee especially from friends. In the end I asked them to make a donation which I could use towards the materials for the murals task at the hospital. Afterwards my friend said I looked very anxious when I first arrived, which I was and so I explained the story I have written here. We were all happy with the outcome. They were happy with their gift, my creative confidence was restored and I had learned a lot more about myself and also artistically.

Today 2 years into my new life, two years on from my facial feminization surgery with my GRS healing well I shared a magical experience with my Mum at our doctors surgery. We had both arranged to have blood tests at consecutive times. The kind nurses had seen both of us in very different circumstances over the past few years. I had at my darkest hour suffering from a breakdown been carried in to see them totally broken, drugged up on prescribed anti depressants unable to function any more, tears flooding down my cheeks at my lowest. The strain of living a lie; feeling as though I had been sacrificing my life for my loved ones, who had been in denial for 11 years, too much for me, at a time when in truth I had not been ready to transition, until I sank to this point. Only recently my Mum had been so ill they would not let her leave the surgery until they helped her to breath properly. To see the smile back on my Mums face was priceless. Today we were in a different place.

Mums asthma is under control and her blood pressure lower than it has been for years. I have put on over a stone in weight since my surgery but thankfully I needed to and it has all gone mainly in the right places. My face is much less gaunt and the answer to "does my bum look too big in this?" is now approaching Yes lol but I am soooo much happier.

"You both look so well, so much better now" said the nurse which was sweet of her. "Debbie you look just like your Mum, your smile, your eyes, I have never thought of you as anyone other than Debbie, a female. You are in the right place in your life now".

My loved ones and I have all been across a mythical river that often threatened to sweep us away under a torrent of conflicting emotions. We are now on relatively dry land on the other side, enjoying the view while we can. Nicky has made a great song about waving from the other side http://thecandyflossgirl.blogspot.com/2010/02/waving-from-other-side.html a phrase created by a special friend. My thoughts are with a very dear friend, an inspirational dear friend whose friendship I value so much who is about to undertake FFS across the pond in America. She is in a place that used to have a well known TV series called Cheers http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FD8ljNobUys.

All of the challenges posed by FFS were for me very much worth it, I hope and pray Jo gets well soon and everybody knows her name for her wonderful kind compassionate many many talents.


Cheers to you Jo
May your FFS bring you everything you wish for.

Love
Debbie

Standing on the edge of something new

With all I have been through in my life, as crazy as it sounds I do not like change. I took this blurry photo after a sleepless night with blurry eyes, as the sun began to rise as I lay in my hospital bed, too afraid to move very far in case I started to bleed again, after my GRS in November last year. Three months later I am ready to open my wings and begin to experience my new life.

I am still very happy and have no regrets. I continue to have my challenges, my personal demons.

One of my major Goals for this year is to try to return to paid employment. After having to give up my career due to ill health caused by gender dysphoria, work related stress and a degree of victimisation, some five years ago, I need to keep my faith and try not to panic. Trying to find any kind of paid employment during a world wide recession while dealing with the separation anxiety my family and I feel having such a loving close relationship is proving quite daunting.

I burst into tears today at a meeting with a kind gentleman who has been advising me how best to achieve this. They were actually tears of joy. I have come a very long way and my life has changed so much for the better now but none the less I find taking the next steps in my new life a real dilemma. I need to push my boundaries, keep moving forward. I also have to be careful to judge the pace of my recovery, the movement I need to maintain and not to do too much too soon or set myself up to fail.

Recently I was very moved by the wise words of a very kind lady called Tess on the Angels support forum. A forum for transgendered people which used to be such a haven, a forum from which i have made some very special friends. She kindly reached out to support a sister and replied to a person who was struggling to face the next big challenge in her life. Her wise poigniant words are below.

The words of an Angel.

"Sometimes when we stand on the edge of something new, even of something we have planned and wished and hoped for for years, the immensity of the step before us is paralysing.

Whatever it is we are leaving behind it is familiar. It may have been warm and comfortable, but wrong; it may have been an awful place that we have been desperate to leave. Whichever it is it is what we have known and its boundaries, its dangers and its comforts are well-known. However horrible it is we are safe there, we have routines and we are habituated to it.

Standing on the edge of the new life, with our wings spread is the worst moment of all. Below us is the unknown and we will be stepping away from everything that was once reliable. Here, at this moment, we can step back. We can say “No.” After all we have survived here for so long. Curling back onto a ball will make the fear go away and the familiar come back.

But what if this chance only ever comes once? All that time spent dreaming, planning and preparing, all the effort we have put into getting to this point that was about what might be; the things that we want. These plans have been built with hope, with love and with excitement. If we don’t take that chance, seize this opportunity there is no reason why we cannot plan it all again. We will always have that plan, we can enact it anytime. But deep inside we know that the chance has gone, that it will never happen now. So when we dream and plan even prepare we are no longer building with hope, we are building with regret. And nothing good has ever been built with regret. "

May your week be kind to you.
Peace and love
Debbie

A return to Eden?

Time seems to have flown by. I am now three months post op and looking forward to the future. For so long I dwelled on my past, existing in stasis, never believing some one so lacking in confidence and self esteem as me would one day get as far as being able to finally live my dreams.

My 12 weeks post op appointment in Brighton last month proved to be a very emotional thought provoking experience.

GRS was important and right for me but not the holly grail, part of a new beginning, a very necessary procedure to correct a birth defect not an end.

The journey we may take to get there is a precarious one especially with our clarity of thought to see the right path to take clouded by stress, dysphoria and the resulting ill health that can bring. What we need to do, the changes we feel we need to make to our lives and their effect on our relationships with our loved ones, our families, friends and colleagues, our careers, our ability to make a living and support our families often bring so much heartache. Sometimes not getting what we wish for can be a blessing as so much of the consequences of what we feel we need to do once done can never ever go back to the way they once were. Unfortunately for many this is not a choice or a lifestyle, equally some cannot make the changes they need to. No ones path is right or wrong, bigger or better. We are people not labels! I felt the pace of my transition took for ever but changes only really happened successfully when I was ready and from my humble experience you know when you get to this point. I found others stories inspirational and once you begin to make little changes you can get swept along by the successes of others. May be too quickly and perhaps the author of those successes chooses not to tell you the bad bits. Its not a race and ideally it has to be what is right for you.

Our aspirations for any surgical procedures we undertake require a lot of soul searching and very careful research. The convalescence period can take quite a while before you begin to feel anything like how you used to and can give you plenty, perhaps too much time to reflect on all you have gained and all you have lost along the way.

Just as I struggled with my creativity regarding my painting I have found myself blocked from blogging lately. Partly due to devoting my time to caring for my parents, building my new life, lack of access to a computer but also lacking confidence in what I should or should not write. I feel very conscious of how lucky I am and how fortunate I have been in so many ways. I always try to write from the heart and be truthful. I have lived in the shadow of depression for so long I now feel more able to look on the positive side. Does that make my view too sugar coated? I still get anxious feel frightened and aware of my history for depression but I no longer want those feelings to control and define me as well as bore friends rigid.

The reality of life’s challenges occasionally continue to drag me back into the darkness but my life is unquestionably infinitely better than it would have been had I not accepted the changes I felt I needed to make. GRS was never going to be a miracle cure for all my insecurities and anxiety issues. In truth it has not entirely removed all symptoms of my gender dysphoria. As my energy levels improved and circumstances allow I have found myself finally able to live my life relatively dysphoria free but there remains a baggage we seem forced to still carry which society and our own perhaps excessive self analysis never let us forget.

With some friends who may read this blog facing difficult times regarding loved ones or approaching or experiencing surgery I have found it really difficult to share my experiences in case they prejudice their expectations, upset them by increasing their fears or by glossing over the bad experiences not forewarning them of what could lay ahead. We all have such different complex lives, different emotions and needs as well as pain levels etc I really value the friendships I have made here with you.

How different our experiences can be with one surgeon and the same medical team using the same hospital was bought home to me by the patients in the waiting room to see Mr Thomas the surgeon, clinic. For me the outcome of the surgery remains a life affirming experience. There has been a lot of fatigue, a few hormonal mood swings and physical uncomfortableness. Perhaps a little more pain than I have chosen to disclose here but for me a process that was no where near as daunting or painful as I expected and trust me I am a coward when it comes to pain. The saying “no sense no feeling” springs to mind! A consequence of any surgery may be that you do not recover all feeling. I still have numbness in a small part of my lower lip from my facial feminisation surgery in Jan 2008 which is now unlikely ever to return and other aspects were not perfect but my expectations of how the surgery may help me were realistic and achieved. The surgeon Dr van der Dussen had a very poor canvas on which to work, the wrong shape and texture! Could he have done more or a better job? Do I wish he had been able to do more? Yes but perhaps more out of vanity and how much I could afford than dysphoria. I am still happy with the results. Regarding my recent GRS lets just say I have been very fortunate not to experience very much pain but there is also so far absolutely no feeling in certain personal aspects of the surgery I do not wish to disclose here. I am still very very happy with my surgery and the care I have received. I was reassuringly told they have more problems with complicated hernias than they do with GRS but if you are one of the unlucky ones its of little comfort.

The Nuffield Hospital Brighton feels like "a smile factory" to me. I still have to pinch myself to believe that I too had that post op smile beaming brightly. The drive to Brighton sharing a beautiful sunset with Mum felt like I was returning to a kind of Eden but occasionally sometimes as the story goes that apple can be poisoned and the outcome very painful. You can never tell quite how you are going to react to each aspect of the procedure.

The patients attending Mr Thomas evening clinic comprised of one lady who was there with her partner, who gleefully told me she was really happy with her surgery and even knew exactly how many days it was since she had her surgery. Another lady appeared in terrible discomfort and could barely walk. My heart went out to her. A Mum arrived with her very young looking daughter. The young lady appeared as any other genetic female of her tender years and perhaps that was the case but either way she was attending Mr Thomas clinic that night. They may well have suffered at the insensitive hands of the journalists who chose to cruelly sensationalise their story. She looked as though she may have been on some form of puberty blocking treatment which delay the ravages that testosterone can have on our bodies until she was of an age where she could be sure or legally be able to have surgery. I would be lying if I said I did not feel a tinge of regret or envy at not having had the opportunity or in truth been ready to have the surgery when I was her age.

I was sat there all smiles but frightened of what they might need to do to me at the appointment. Being so blessed to still have my Mum alongside me; supporting me after all she had been through recently meant so much to me. My Dad had kindly offered to come if she was too poorly to have made it as he did not want me going alone. With a life time of trying to deal with a transgender daughter with what had for so long been the limited knowledge/beliefs and understanding from a bygone age. For them both to have found themselves in the hell of denial for a dozen or more years to be offering the level of acceptance and unconditional love they do now and for me to cherish everyday with them is simply incredible and way beyond my vocabulary.

I did require a remedial procedure involving the removal of some granulation tissue which had built up unknowingly to me as my body had tried to heal itself too quickly. I was very lucky it had developed in an area which did not cause me pain while dilating. The procedure was uncomfortable but I was able to drive home. It has set my progress back a little and been painful and tender for a while but not too bad. The news that the follow up appointment with Doctor Curtis the gender specialist who monitors my hormone treatment would be paid by Mr Thomas as Doctor Curtis referred me to him for GRS was welcome news. I am now ready to try to make my way in my new life. I read a very poignant reply by a compassionate and wise lady called Tess on Angels a UK transgender support forum regarding a woman who was very nervous about beginning her new life which I will post shortly.

I am on that edge, wings outstretched, ready to fly, very excited, a little frightened, separation anxiety regarding my devotion to my parents weighing heavily on my heart and conscious, not sure if I can deal with life’s really hard knocks having lived in such a safe familiar environment for so long but there is no regret no turning back now.

Lots of love
Debbie
PS many thanks to Anji for the lovely photo on the postcard above which she kindly sent to me. That lady reminds me of someone I know, who should be painting!