Anger and Acceptance.

I happened on this video on youtube. The thumbnails are clickbait, but hell I was bored and curious. It’s actually quite a well thought out video as it covers positive female role models.

However, there are some issues with their first mention who is male. Rather, a female that is a Man. It made news quite some time ago and all of that shite… and, well, to be honest…

I can’t find fault in either sides argument. Just that he is far more selfless and brave than I am. The thought of giving birth truly horrifies me. I’m not saving my eggs. I’m having my womb out asap (for medical reasons as well as the obvious one). So, to me personally I can’t even imagine the thought of carrying a child. There’s no way he’d be able to breast feed as he appears to be post chest surgery… but saying that, how much would biology alter those results.

How much damage will have been done to the child due to the unnatural concentration of testosterone? Or not, simply because they would have taken in the aid and advice of the medical professionals around them to ensure as safe a pregnancy as possible.

Though, all of that shite isn’t the reason I’m writing this.

Take a look at this comment chain.

There is a comment that has spouted a LOT of responses. While on my mobile I had to press read more quite a few times to reveal that people are FAR too quick to attack those that make honest comments.

The original post has since been edited, for now it reads as this –

Biologically he still a woman inside. A man never can give birth.

I believe originally it was all caps and didn’t have the word Biologically. The fact that the post has been edited shows that the poster is willing to listen to those that actually speak with them as a person.

This is the first post I have submitted to the shitstorm

sorry you endured all of the hate and anger dear… perhaps the op needs an edit or two. Subsequent replies by yourself explain what you meant in a far more eloquent way. I dispise tumblr white knights… always on the attack. Where, I’m trans and… hell I know where you’re coming from and as far as I’m concerned you’re right. shrug

NOTE- A very dear friend of mine still has a tumblr. I had a tumblr (before the Yahoo buyout but that’s another story). I enjoy posts I see on tumblr. However, it has become a very irritating place to observe. This youtube video says all I need to about the site.

Their response to myself (darn near buried)

+Nolascana​ THANK YOÜ.. Your comment brought tears to my eyes..You touched my heart.. 😘GOD BLESS YOU

This is the second response I have left on the matter. At this point it might not even be the last… it all depends on who replies to me.

You’re welcome.

It surprised me how people were completely on the attack. Instead of trying to talk about things rationally, people that (in my opinion) have little buisiness getting as invested and involved in something of such a nature. My biological sex will never change. I know I’m only altering my appearance and chemical balances and so on.

So… yes, as you said. He is still a woman inside. As I always will be. A man cannot give birth.

Even the seahorse argument is moot. We are humans.

I think a lot of people went on the attack perhaps because of the initial phrasing and all of that.

There’s no sense in getting angry, if anything that makes people stick to their points even harder – whether they are right or wrong.

I have met people that have categorically said that I shouldn’t get any of my operations on the NHS. I’ve had others arguing back – with such anger- that they were wrong.
Thing is, I know where they’re coming from. But, likewise I said to them ‘fine, but I don’t want to pay for people that go to A&E for accidents involving alcohol consumption that could have been avoided if they were sober’.
My saying that, was, and always will be more effective than people fighting those battles for me.
I hope this ebbs down for you soon. Be well!

And to be honest… This is mostly how I feel in general about my situation.

Accepting. I know that this in many ways is a pointless journey I am on… but on the other hand. It is not.

I just hate how other people jump in to defend me on such issues. It’s as if I am incapable of talking to people that don’t agree with the way I chose to live. Transitioning is a choice I have made. A series of many. Because the alternative was not worth the pain.

I often find myself defending those that would probably spit on me on sight… purely because punching them is only going to anger them more than sitting them down with a coffee and telling them we will have to agree to disagree.


I am far luckier than your average transgender person. I hear so many stories about them being made homeless and being beaten for being who they are.

Thing is, I’ve managed to slip under the radar. I’ve lived in a homophobic area and not once drawn their attention. I’ve worked a poorly paid job and… well, managed to keep a poorly paid job I suppose.

I have moved country, and found the move has done me a world of good. I’ve had people ask SO many questions that none of them are original anymore.

I’ve managed to find a decently paying job, after only three weeks of unemployment, and managed to keep it. I now live in a city. On my own.

Not neccessarily where I hoped to live, but still, I’m making a go of it. My building neighbors mostly call me male, there’s one neighbor that calls me she.

People at work mess up the pronouns. I don’t always notice, or, should I say visibly notice. Sometimes I’ll ask my department workers if I heard what I think I heard… and move on.

At first, people messing up the pronouns used to piss me off. Didn’t matter who it was it’d annoy me. Now it’s water off a ducks back, because I know it won’t happen forever.

At work, I recently had one of the newer blokes confused as HELL as I was discussing one of a friend’s relatives. He has a niece that wishes to transition. And we were discussing perhaps the nephew meeting me, or perhaps having my details if he wishes to speak to me. I even mentioned his mother being there too if she wished. Everything would be done in the city centre n all that…

And the coworker looked at us both. I simply laughed and told him I’m a transman. I was honestly surprised to learn he didn’t already know. He had thought I was a gay man… though the odd thing I’d say, or others would say, didn’t seem to add up.

I’ve learned to be open about my situation. Colleagues have to have my back (thank you equality in the workplace legislation), or at the least tolerate me for me. I’ve had one of my department workmates simply shrug and say he sees me as a dude with tits… as, there’s been an occasion where one of my binders has malfunctioned to the point of restricting my breathing. I had to explain to him that an ambulance wasn’t necessary, I’d be able to resolve the reason of me being close to passing out if I went to the nearest restroom asap.

He’s not really seen me out of work, but he knows the situation, and he knows I’m pre op.


Hell, nearly I’m not.

I ALMOST already had my upper op… but, well, medical complications being what they are, I now have to wait till the end of the month.

I was too hurt to say anything about the cancellation at the time. Too scared to say anything about the impending operation prior to the events.

So… yes, milestones.

To me it’s just another thing… it’s… part of the process to me.


At least work is accepting that I will have a considerable amount of time off. There are regulations in place to protect me when I’m trying to get back into work.


I feel there’s an incredible amount of postcode lottery going on where some of the legislation is, however, I did move 300 miles away from where I was born. That move, if I hadn’t made it, I feel that I wouldn’t even be having my operation this year at all.


I guess, a lot of what makes this easier. A LOT easier, is that I have accepted a lot about myself, and the way people are.

I don’t get angry about as many small things, things that are petty and all that… I don’t make as many mountains out of molehills anymore. If I were on my soap box going ‘look at me, I’m a special snowflake and demand different treatment.’ everyone would turn on me within moments. Causing more trouble for myself, than just living my life…

I dunno.

Just, calm yo tits people… or, if you find that you are amongst more educated people. Contain the calamity that is your mammaries.


Back for good?

Alright, so… I didn’t lie when I said I had my mojo back…

However, there has been a period of radio silence. Sorry about that.

I’ve started writing for the Byzantine collection again and I don’t know how long this section will end up being. It was going to be a chapter of Hawk and the Shamrock… before I decided it had already ended at a good place, then the St Patrick chapter came out, then, I looked at the chapter and decided to keep writing it. Nearly three thousand words later I decided it was going to be better off as a multi part story… Just, I’m not sure how many parts. And I’m not sure how it will link up with the rest… But it’s there and it’s being written.


I also have a couple of Student side stories that I’m working on for the Blue Arrow. I’m working on the current chapter of it but I have a major decision or two to make.

I have an end goal for Keyah to become who he needs to be. Do I stick to that goal or do I keep the story going on and on till the dead horse is little more than skeleton? Do I make the character I have introduced stick to the brief plan I had for them when they came into the story, or, do I not (no hints to that, the answer may well surprise you).

So yes, working out if the character I do want to introduce will work at all, or if it is too much of a curveball for the universe the story resides in… And… frankly, if you haven’t figured it all out by now… yes, all of them are connected. Seriously, thing is, I’m not saying how. You have to read them to find out. Some hints are subtle, some are sledgehammers to the gnads.

Anywaaaay, writing moans aside – Below is a lil TL;DR basically with people are dicks, and I was ill with a headcold.

One reason for delay was the five weeks I was without a toilet, that drained me to no end… As I had a family friend staying with me on the back end of the toilet fiasco.

Now, my flat might not be the neatest, what with my Tron figurines being all on the same shelf next to Sephiroth and Vincent… etc… but it’s like. I don’t care if they’re not pleasing to the eye as they look cluttered. Small ones on the left bigger ones to the middle, I like it that way so symmetry be damned. Seriously, I had to justify the arrangement of my action figures and small scene sets…

I don’t care if your daughter would do it differently, your daughter has near crippling OCD from what you say so its like… fuck off if you split the sets up they become pointless to display. I have four of the arena set, I’m not sure if that’s the complete set… I think it might be as I went to a lot of trouble to get one of them.

ANYWAY, The boys creeped her out a little, I offered to put their cover over them (I have a ‘scarf’ thingie that is an imitation silky thing with skulls on, it makes for a pretty decent sunshielding shroud) but it was like, oh don’t bother (felt like doing it anyway aaaasss) I got interrogated about them and it was like, Look, back in Manchester there was a doll community almost, enough of us met up. It’s not for lack of trying that there’s no dollmeets up in Tayside.

THEN she pulls apart some of the artwork I had a dear friend draw me. I have the Original Ink of one commission that was mailed over, and one printed ink of another, and in the middle is a mid poster size printed coloured commission. She pulled the one in the middle apart, not only misgendering one of the characters (when it’s blatantly obvious they’re both male as – NO TITS) but is all condescending about the position of one of the characters arms.

She isn’t an artist, and just because one of her daughters wants to be a tattoo artist… it doesn’t mean that she can pull apart something that I adore. From an artistic perspective there’s not a damn issue, and the more I think about it from a physically possible perspective, well, just because she’s not that dexterous doesn’t mean the character in question isn’t either. One of the characters is leaning to the foreground while interacting with the other… it’s like she’s never seen an instance of foreshortening… and a character’s hair actually hiding the part of the upper arm you would see before.


Anyway, that visit annoyed the shit out of me so I decided to tweak the layout of a few things… which… in turn meant turning at least three out of my four rooms on their arse for a while. Unfortunately I became ill shortly after I decided to do this and was living in a mess.

I left for work and came home to a sty, on a regular basis… it’s not a good thing I can tell you.

So I felt like shit, was sleeping in well into the afternoon on my days off… and… Only really recovered this weekend. The wedding was August, it’s over a month after it. It’s taken me this long to actually recover from what a family friend said, alongside working and feeling like shit.

It’s finally got to the point where I can actually type this out and say ‘Fuck you, family friend, fuck you.’ I mean come on, I went to her place and nearly went into a slow and painful anaphylactic shock. That’s right, a home with only one cat was enough for my throat to start closing up on me. Because I was breathing in an overflowing unchanged litterbox for a matter of minutes.


My allergies reacted to her home more severely and at an incredibly fast pace as if she had at least four cats and was rubbing them on my skin/making me pet them/making them sit all over me.

If you are happy with your flat smelling of cat piss, I’m good with clutter. I mean, there was a damp issue in her place that she didn’t realise was a big deal until she found an overgrowth of mould that gave her asthma.

I shit you not. A vent wasn’t working properly or something for the kitchen or bathroom… and she let things get that bad that everything under her bed was moulded to fuck.


How do you let that happen, now, there’s mould where it’s like… aw shit that must have gotten damp. You know the black spots that come up on white towels if they’re left damp… Then there’s MOULD the kind that is beyond the little spots that refuse to budge.  Here’s a good example that shows she’s not talking out her ass when she says it caused her asthma.

Whenever I shower I use the extractor fan as it’s a small room and built into the place (for good reason) but even if I didn’t have one of those as soon as i could my front door would be open to let out the steam (top floor, and that door is the closest way of getting ‘fresh’ air into the place [compared to my windows] especially in winter, ideal for letting warm air out) and at the very least my entire flat would be open to disperse it. And, guess what, there’s damp extractors. I’d buy one of the dehumidifiers and use it post every shower if I had to.

Hell, every time I have my clothes horses up, even the heated airer! I have damp extractors near them. When winter hits fully I’m going to have one stationed in my bedroom at all times, I saw the condensation once (i’d forgotten to close the blind) and it wasn’t a pretty picture… And that was just me sleeping in that room with the door closed!

If I cook I can’t open the window without climbing on top of the units, so I will always have to open windows at both front and back of my flat to create a wind tunnel in my hall that will help with the kitchen… being aware of that I make sure to keep windows open post steamy stuff and keep the rooms open too…

So its like… your home is smaller than mine and at more risk. I know to check the fabrics in my airing cupboard and wardrobes for damp and moth issues… how in the hell did you not realise to check under your bed for a damn INFESTATION. I don’t keep anything but empty clothes horses and my wash baskets under my bed (empty) my wardobes are airy inside but I check them regular for signs of damp… My airing cupboard has the slatty shelf thingies to help with circulation… but I STILL CHECK.

I can’t afford to keep replacing towels n shit if they get mould on them so god knows why she didn’t. I don’t keep any fabrics in confined spaces where they will get excess moisture on them, sweat for example… It’s so easy to forget in winter, that’s why they have the wardrobe damp extractor thingies, silica gel packs, dehumidifiers, damptraps… So many things to avoid such situations…

Hell, when I lived in a three bed house we either opened the small window in the bathroom post (or in my case during cause it was always easier to adjust to the cooler temperature) shower, in warm weather we left the door open to the room. In cold we kept it shut. Even in a Three Bed House we made sure steam got out. If mum was in the kitchen with a lot of steam in winter it was a window and the middle door shut, in summer it was the rear door open with the middle window open or shut, depending on smell factor.

If we can worry about that shit in a three bed, how in the hell does someone miss something so obvious in a small one bed. She’s now got a medical condition which isn’t going away any time soon.

You know. That almost makes up for her talking down to me about shit she has absolutely no right to go on about…

BSOD time.

So… I viewed a flat and its decent, I mean, really good. Parking’s a shit. I mean… fecks sake it’s gonna piss me off something rotten. But hell it’s something.

I get to the last sheet of the application form and see that any applicants under 25 must have a guarantor.

I’ve been working since 18, paying taxes since 18. And I can’t apply for any help (working tax benefit etc) till I’m 25.

It’s like organisations don’t want me to actually live away from a damaging situation.

So yes… I have to wait three sodding months before putting this application in. Because I’m 24 and 9 months.

A certain someone (as I told her where it was) was like Nope. Not being your guarantor, because of the parking situation etc.She did later turn around and say that she’d think about it. But at this rate it will be a no anyway. She wants to see it, and is like, can you book a second viewing. Why didn’t you take me along etc…

Several reasons 1) Dog. 2)Parking situation. 3)There’s no point in me being there while you are too. 4) She demands seeing every property I get an appointment to see… How in the shit am I supposed to make up my own damn mind when she WILL pull apart every place I see because her standards are admittedly higher than mine.

I’m not after buying a place anymore so it’s like… FINE as soon as I’m 25 I won’t need to have a guarantor on the books. And it won’t be an issue as I’ll finally be able to get more help.

So I have limited options left, one housing association won’t take me because I’m not earning enough. The council for the main city has a huge wait list. The council for the county I’m in has a slow turn around (even though I’m 8th – 100somethingth… 8th might still take a long time).

Self storage… I can’t afford it at the moment after a huge car bill, THREE new tyres, TWO rear shock absorbers (Which were pretty much shot when I bought the car- It’s a wonder it past it’s MOT.) TWO roll bar links, and a rear wiper and a full service later.

I also can’t afford it this month because the money I would have spent on the storage I spent on new binders. I didn’t want to, and I regret it already, but it was a necessary evil…

That’s pretty much my savings wiped out. Yes, that is what I have savings for, but now I have to save up for my car insurance from scratch. That will be in the hundreds as I only have One year no claims by that time and… well, at least I’ll be 25. And Car insurance is reportedly significantly cheaper for over 25’s. After totalling my first car I admit that there’s a reason the premiums are as high as they are. Till that happened I was all holier than thou about it.

I shit you not. 25 for benefits, 25 for cheaper car insurance. 25 to be able to apply for housing and it NOT be a big issue.

Is there any benefit for being under 25 and working? NOPE.

Does the average person expect that you’re a student because you’re under 25? MORE THAN FUCKING LIKELY.

Is there any point claiming being homeless to jump ahead in the system? Fuck no. You won’t be able to shake a previous application for being homeless if you’re in a situation where it’s not the only option. It will affect your credit ratings and so forth and it takes a lot to encourage people you aren’t a risk of that happening again and you will be able to pay etc. Much like declaring yourself bankrupt. AVOID.

I’ve had a lead to an organisation that helps home people within the city and I’m meeting them on Thursday. So that’s something.

If I do change address it won’t damage my housing claim with the county council, so that’s something at least.

Single person means I get 25% off of my council tax, which even then is around £70 a month give or take. That’s a blow no matter what. But if I live closer to work then the petrol will balance out, if I live further than I do now it means doing at least 10 extra hours a month just to compensate for the petrol.

So that’s 10 extra a month, then for council tax that’s another 10 extra a month to be safe, for medical reasons another 10… see where I’m getting. Even with 27 hours per week as a contract that’s only 5 more than normal. So while I would have had to do 10 hours extra a week it goes down to 5 to break even with the usual expected pay… But… to be able to afford shit properly I’d need to do an extra 40 hours a month. So… Instead of 108 it should be 148. LOL. My average is usually nearer to 120 or so… only missing 5 extra a week, which I should be able to pick up on other departments or something. Only, at the moment I need to check if overtime is ok. Rather than… just doing it as and when. On my own it will be just me and no-one to report to, so that would be far easier. Hell, I could switch to night shift, they get paid more per hour and it would be awesome to even have a basic contract with that. 27 at time and a half would be 40.5 hours a week… so I’d be skipping away with 162 hours worth of pay for 120… and I’d still likely do extra here and there.

So yes… anyway… xD

I could try getting a second job, but with no relevant qualifications it’s difficult. With no experience in a supervisory position a LOT of the postings I can’t answer, and there’s little point. And… Let’s face it, the tax on a second job won’t be worth it if I have to drive to it, or, if I live local enough to the city, a second job within it won’t be an issue.

I don’t want an office job, and I can’t apply for branch manager positions – (all that’s available locally) So it’s a bit of a pain in the arse.

I just hope this SVQ will open more doors for me as I will have the relevant Core Skills all set up to do a job anywhere in Scotland. (All my qualifications through school are English, and out of date- no seriously, they’ve started introducing Core Skills to GCSE level, and I did mine before all that shit.)

Anyway… Roll On February.

All Images from Google. Copyright [top image] Looks like an OC or it’s Gumshoe from Ace Attorney series – Capcom? Copyright Downton Abbey – BBC. Copyright Star Trek TNG (Patrick Stewart as Jean Luc Picard) – CBS Studios. Copyright Road to El Dorado – Dreamworks

What to do, what to do…

Ok, remaining friends with exes is always awkward… but it’s worse when they still have feelings for you.

One of my Exes can do no wrong in my mums eyes, and because he’s still showing an interest she seems to think that it’s a damn good idea I should give it a go with him again and be flattered… She even went as far as talking about moving in with him and how a relationship with someone would be a good thing even if I was settling.

Settling with someone whom I felt so uncomfortable with I broke it off…

There’s a FUCKING REASON HE’S AN EX. He is such an indecisive idiot that drives me to exasperation on a regular basis. I’ll ask him something simple about where he wants to go to drink… When he knows full well I don’t drink alcohol and avoid pubs like the plague, so… you know, I don’t know any decent pubs. He’s like, oh but where do you want to go… I mention work has a bar since that’s the only one I know… meant as a FUCKING JOKE, and nope he meets me after work and arrives late. So I’ve got myself a muffin and a hot chocolate and I’m quite happy to NOT be bought a drink.

Then… he asks about where I wanna go (several times and I honestly didn’t care since I was lumbered with sitting at the deserted bar at work as it was). I did say several times I want Chinese food (there’s a buffet on the same work complex)… And he fucking JOKES that if we were to go back to his house I’d – in his words- be assaulted. (Not to mention that prior to this he’d mentioned to my MOTHER he intended on getting me drunk. Her alarm bells should have gone off. His intention would be to get me drunk and take advantage of me.)

I threatened that if he so much as dared he’d be stabbed somewhere where the sun rarely shines. I made it clear I wasn’t amused at that point, I was hungry and just went to the Chinese, he followed and yeah OK fine, I was wrong to think he’d give me the cash for his half of the entry… He owes me around £12.50+ and he made a further joke about having sex with me.



Needless to say I think I should just ignore any future contact off of him.

Sure I might have been somewhat curious about sex with him… but, joking about raping me?! No. He creeped me out before (and because of mum I more or less HAD to see him again) and now he’s just crossed the damn line.

Thing is I’m still debating what to tell mum. And how to tell her so she doesn’t just think I’m overreacting to it all…

Inevitably she will blame me and accuse me of being awkward.