Altered Identity

At the end of May I had the opportunity to talk to the second therapist who is specialized in those gender matters. I was nervous again, but not as much as during the talk with the first doctor. Nevertheless it was a big help that John accompanied me. He asked me the same things, more or less, and he asked John to join in the conversation as well. In the end, he told me that he, too, would come to the conclusion that I had gender issues that can’t be specified. He told me that he thinks I should continue trauma therapy, but that he also thinks it might me helpful for me to stay on antidepressants and that he would recommend I get a treatment with hormones, if I want to. He said that it doesn’t happen only in rare cases that people who underwent severe abuse develop a certain kind of altered identity and he recommended finding a therapist who is specialized in gender stuff as well, because he thinks that it’s an important question when and why Ginny developed. He thinks Ginny must have developed during my childhood, even though I don’t recall it. Well, a lot of more work to do.

Next thing is an appointment with a doctor specialized in hormones. Before I can get blockers or estrogene, they have to make sure I’m genetically male as well. Both psychiatrist said that they don’t doubt it, but that’s how they do it here in Germany. Moreover, they have to make sure that everything’s alright with me, before they can give me hormones. During the process it might be that I have to increase my daily dose of antidepressants or change the substance again, because usually estrogene creates depressions. That sucks hard time, but we’ll see.

Ironically at the moment I enjoy both, being outside as Ginny and with my usual Blaubeermann self as well. Getting so much unexpected support just does me good. In the moment I have the feeling that my therapist might not be the ideal person to work with for me. He’s good in what he does, but I don’t feel like he’s supporting me in this gender thing. At the moment I’m trying to find someone else to work with as well (or instead).

With having now these two expertises that say I’m trans it would be possible in Germany to change my name and social status. That’s weird! And that’s a thing I certainly don’t want to do.

What else? To be honest, I enjoy my sexuality even more at the moment. John supports me with face slaps whenever, cute rape play and severe pain, which keeps me horny forever, because I’m still in the device. No cummies for me.


Self-help-group. Or Not.

Until now I have been three times in that gender-self-help-group (I had to skip it twice because of work). I don’t know what to think about that. Most times I feel more of a freak eversince. I try to find answers to my questions in others, which obviously doesn’t really make sense. I totally accept transpersons and I often wish I could say “I’m this and that” with their vigor, but I can’t. For example, for most transgirls it’s vital to pass as a girl. For me obviously not. I know that I have features that are too male to pass as a girl, and that’s alright for me. I don’t want to be a girl. Nor do I want to be an Alpha. Neither I’m capable to be.

When the transgirls talk about how to stuff your dick and how to speak and how to use make up to look more female, I feel strange. Like I don’t belong there. To be honest, it disturbs my inner peace. I have talked about that with S and C (C has trans issues as well), and they told me I shall give it a try some more times before I quit. I will. But I feel reluctant when it’s time to go there.

My therapist and I have agreed to continue our work until I found someone else to help me through that. It needs to be someone with experience with PTSD and abuse as well as with gender issues. In case I can’t find anyone like that, he will keep working with me, but leave the gender stuff for the other therapist. That’s alright for me. The doctor who made the first expertise has recommended another therapist for the second expertise and I will see him at the end of May. It’s a long time until then. He also recommended two therapists near to my hometown you work with gender issues. We’ll see. When I think of the way that lies ahead, I already feel tired.

Everyday Life

My everyday life stays quite the same through all this time of inner conflicts. I go to work four days a week for some hours. Usually I work in the shop/café, but sometimes I help with the gardening or in other departments. All in all I’m best when I can serve people and help them, and believe me, sometimes a warm cup of coffee is the best way to help people 🙂 I still attend Yoga classes, but at the moment only once a week. I do sports at home as well. I try to run almost every day and I practise Yoga at home as well. I still really suck at meditation, but that’s OK. Since we have our help, I have less things to do in John’s house, but I still clean the bathroom every day, make our bed, cook and all.

I still feel a deep connection to Lord Shiva, but over the time I have also developed a relation to Papa Legba, obviously due to my friend W, who teaches me a lot, spiritwise. I feel like Lord Shiva and Papa Legba form a certain kind of spiritual fathers for me. I know it’s not very surprising, but I’m obviously still searching for father-persons in my life. I meet W regularly to make little or not so little rituals for both of them and for W’s gods as well, but still I think only little do I know of all of that. I fear that I might do something wrong, so I shy from doing much.

In the past months Leo, John and I had a lot of trouble finding time to see us. Both of them have so much to do, then Leo was ill, followed by us, and all in all it’s a bit tricky to run such a long-distance relationship. But at the moment none of us wants to make such a life-changing decision to leave his country, so we just keep on. In June we will go on a vacation together in Italy. Just one week, but I can’t wait to be there 🙂 In April John will be flying to South Africa to play golf, but he told me to stay at home. Why? Just because he can and he knows that the thought of him fucking others will make me melt. He says he needs time for himself and will provide me with a long list of things to do (and not to do) during this time.

All in all I am quite content with my life at the moment. I have found schedules that help me pushing through.

In the past week I had my appointment with the therapist my therapist had recommended. John had taken the day off and was able to drive me there (a 2 hour ride from home). I wouldn’t have been able to drive by myself, because I was shaky and nervous. I hadn’t really slept much during the nights before and was a total mess. I didn’t know what to wear, because I thought if I dressed as a guy, he would not believe me, and if I dressed like a gurl, he would not take me serious. I ended up with trying to dress neutral, which only led to a deeper feeling of worthlessness and dysphoria LOL So after he had witnessed an outburst and then a cry attack, John told me what to wear: a pair of jeans, a shirt and a cardigan, very low-key. I was so thankful for his advice that I cried a bit more. Oh well.

Once in his office, I was getting even more nervous. We had to wait a while, then he greeted us and said he wanted to talk to me alone, if possible. I though I could not make it, but he was kind and said that if I needed John, he could come in in an instance. After the introduction he asked me why I was there, and I thought he was joking, because my therapist had talked to him beforehand. He insisted he wanted to hear it all from me, so I asked him how much time he had LOL He told me not to worry, so I just started talking about…everything, I guess.

I told him about the abuse and that I’m diagnosed with PTSD and other mental disorders and that I’m not capable of living alone (why did I say that?) and that I suffer from eating disorders and selfharm and all that other stuff as well. He just listened and made some notes, but did not interupt me. I thought I was doing it wrong and got nervous. This went on until I had a complete blackout, like I didn’t know who I was and why I was there and nothing. He saw it and asked me about it, but I couldn’t answer him. He asked John to join us and he just grabbed my hand and rubbed my back. Immediately I burst out into tears again. I felt so ashamed, but I couldn’t help it. The therapist got me a glass of water and it took me some more minutes to calm down a bit.

With John by my side, it went better. The therapist wanted to know for how long I’ve been in therapy now and what kind of therapy and all, and I was able to answer him. He wanted to know since when we are together and how we met. Then, finally, he asked me to tell him about my dysphoria. Suddenly I felt a block. I thought if I told him, he would just tell me I’m crazy in the head, but John encouraged me to be open about it. And so I told him what I had told to my GP and my therapist and all the plastic surgeons as well. That for years now I’m feeling the need to alter my body to have boobs and a really tiny, impotent dicklet, but that I don’t feel like a woman and don’t want any surgery down there. That I’m jealous with all the T-girls and want to be like them and that in everyday life I love to dress like a girl, but not for sexual reasons only. He asked me about my beard and my sex drive and my sexlife in general. I felt ashamed to tell him, but I knew that John loved the fact that I had to tell a foreigner what a bitch I am, and that again encouraged me to be honest.

He asked me about how I feel during sex and if I am active. I told him I’m never active and never was (anal passive, oral active, of course). I said that I don’t feel like a woman and that I don’t know anything about how a woman should feel, but that I feel taken and that I love this feeling. He asked me if I masturbate and to which fantasies, and I told him that most time I’m in chastity, but when I masturbate, I think about being taken as well, and I was very honest and told him about my torture fantasies as well. He asked me several more questions about my fantasies and our actual sex-life, then he wanted to know more about chastity. Why, when it started, why again LOL how I cope with it, how everyday life is with it and so on.

When he said he had some questions for John, I was thankful for that break, because I felt exhausted. Although he was very nice and open-minded, it just was so much.

He asked John about how he copes with my disorders and how everyday life is for him. He wanted to know who of us was responsable for taking the first step into BDSM and John told him that it was the two of us and that we both have been into that lifestyle before. He was a sort of impressed by the fact that we have had our wedding (in Germany it’s called eingetragene Lebenspartnerschaft, which is not exactly the same thing as a marriage, but as the law has changed since then it could well be that we might get married officially some day). He emphasized that stable relationships are very important, yet a bit rare among people with my background. Then he wanted to know for how long I have those issues with wanting boobs and all and how John gets along with that in our everyday life. My husband was cute 🙂 He told him that he loves me no matter what and that indeed his desire increased ever since. I mean, is that cute?

At the end of what were 2.5 hours he said that from what he saw and heard that day it is quite clear to him that I suffer from “non-specific gender-disorder” (what a weird term, don’t you think?). He thinks that I need another kind of therapy, because my issues in everyday life arise not only from my PTSD and the other stuff, but also from this. Hearing him say that was a total relief. So much that I had to cry again. He told me that I am not alone with this problem and that there are others like me out there, who don’t identify with being a “real” male or what I call Alpha and who want to be impotent and some even want to amputate their dicks (which I knew before). He said he will write an expertise about it and he recommended a colleague of his for another one, because if I get two expertises to say the same thing about me, I will be able to get medical treatment as well. I asked what exactly this means, and he said that with two expertises I can go to a doctor who will make a test whether I’ve got a male genome, and if so, I can receive blockers for my hormones and, even more, female hormones to help me reach my goals.

I was speechless! I asked him if he didn’t think that this would make my disorders worse, and he replied that he thinks if I don’t do it, it will make my disorders worse… I am so happy right now, I can’t believe it! He also told us that I didn’t have to change my name or my gender, but that I’m free to do it, if I wanted to (I don’t want to…I have made peace with my name and surely I don’t want to be female). Moreover, he recommended attending a self-help group (there is one nearby) and he said that he will talk with my therapist about how they can help me to get to help I need.


For the first time in a couple of years I feel like I can see some light. It was so good to be heard and taken serious, and it was good to hear that I’m not just insane. When I asked him why I feel like I feel, he said that they don’t know why, but that sometimes it’s just in the genes and sometimes it’s caused by abuse and sometimes nothing of that is true, but that in the end it didn’t matter. And that only how I see myself matters.

To tell you the truth, when we came home, I just wanted to eat something and then sleep.


Thailand Changed A Lot

Thailand was an overwhelming experience. In more than one aspect it brought me to the verge and it also pushed me over it. First of all, Thailand is completely different to everything I knew before. As you guys know, I have started tavelling not long ago, and even though I’ve been to America, I wasn’t really prepared for how different Asia is. It’s overwhelming in many aspects. The climate was hard to handle for me, because it was warm and humid and sometimes I felt like I couldn’t breathe or would just breathe in warm water. I was happy to be in air conditioned rooms whenever I could. Then there’s people everywhere. If I ever thought the town I live near by was crowded, I now experience it as quite empty. Especially Bangkok was so full of people that I was really glad when we were in the hotel and I had some space for myself. The food was amazing. For me it’s always a bit challenging to try new things, but this part of our holidays was just beautiful. I have tried so many fruits I have never even seen before, and they had delicious vegetarian dishes everywhere. Of course they also had super gross stuff like insects and frogs and I don’t know what. Next, Thailand has a special smell. I guess in Germany we are just no longer used to the smell of waste gas like we had back in the 80ies, but in Thailand (or Bangkok so to say) that’s totally normal. For me, incense sticks, waste gas, sweet fruits and the aromatic body and hair oils people use there form a kind of olfactory memory of Thailand. The Thais are very friendly and keen to help, but for me it was hard to accept that their kindness always feels a bit submissive as well. Maybe that’s just a sort of cultural question, but having to cope with submissive people is always a challenge for me, because usually I am the most submissive person around 🙂

For me personally, the most challenging part of our holidays was the confrontation with all those beautiful shemales and ladyboys. And there’s a lot of them. They have a sort of natural beauty and grace I do not own at all, and most of them (or at least those on display) are really unbelievably beautiful. To be honest, some are so beautiful I was surprised they were not naturally born women. Amazing and totally stunning, but also very intimitading. I know I mustn’t forget that most of them have been on HRT for years and I’m not, but nevertheless I had to struggle tremendously. Seeing my husband flirting with them, fucking them, kissing them was vile, moreover because he kept comparing me to them, like “oh, your dick is still way too big”, “anyway she HAS tits”, “now THAT’S a nice gurlpussy” and all that stuff. Yeah, it made me wet, but it also hurt, of course, like it was supposed to.

To tell you the truth, I expected to come home from these holidays and be convinced about having breast surgery. But it seems this trip has opened up new topics to think about instead of making anything clear for me. If God or whoever would ask me “how do you want to be like for the rest of your life?” I’d have to say: just like them. A beautiful ladyboy, lean, nice tits, beautiful face, petite and perfect for my man, with a supertiny cocklette that doesn’t even get hard anymore. I could never reach that goal just by having my tits done. I fear that would just make me a man with tits, like some sort of freakish monster. I don’t want to be an man with tits. I don’t even want to be seen as man with tits, though I like chubby boys with moobs, but I wouldn’t want to be one. I want to be seen as a ladyboy or shemale, not just a crossdressing man with fake tits. But that implies my only option is to find out whether or not I’m trans which I thought I’d be not. Wouldn’t I hate my cock if I was really trans, including wanting to have it removed? Well, I love my cock, I love having (and not using) it. I love the thought of having a useless, tiny clitty cock, and that’s what I want. If I’d be trans, I’d be allowed to go on hormone replacement therapy in Germany, and then sooner or later I’d be impotent. That would be so awesome. But I don’t want them to cut it off. It would be very nice to still have it, but all useless. I would really love to develop natural boobies and have softer face lines and all, and hopefully a bigger ass and all in all more curves. Moreover, I don’t want a legal name oder gender change. I love being male and I have made peace with my name, given to me by my father. In fact, my name has a special meaning for me nowadays and I had to fight hard to get to that point. I wouldn’t want to lose my name to be Ginny 24/7.

Yeah, so at the moment I’m more confused than before our trip, and I have already talked about that with my therapist who suggested I should go to see an expert for transpeople to find out if I might be trans without wanting to have a vagina surgery. Even the thought of that makes me cringe. So obviously I will have to work so much more on these things to find out what I am and which way to go. John and I talked so much about that stuff in the past few years and I’m so glad he doesn’t feel pestered. For the moment I’m leaving out the question whether or not HRT would have an impact on my mental issues, because I think that’s something I can still deal with later. I’ll keep you updated.

Try Not To Hurt Myself

Yesterday evening I had a chat with a T-gurl from the U.S. We’ve been texting for some months now and she has told me that it’s her biggest dream to be allowed to go on chemical castration by testosterone blockers, and later on she wants to take estrogen to develop a more female physique and yes, boobies. Since last week she has accomplished her first goal and is now on testosterone blockers. She told me her doctor fully approved of her decision and that he supports her thoroughly. Well, I have to admit that I feel a bit jealous and even sad. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so glad she can fulfill her dreams and all, but I still feel like here in Germany there’s nobody there to support me. If I was a transgirl, then things would be different, but there’s not much understanding for people like me who don’t fit in. I had even one doctor telling me I should decide whether I wanted to be a man or a woman. I mean, seriously? Sometimes I feel it would be the best for me to “just” give up being a part time boy, part time gurl, but I can’t. When I try to stop being Ginny, I get depressed and tend to hurt myself, so what is it good for?

Saturday night John and I attended a private BDSM party. Beforehand he told me I could suck and fuck with whoever I wanted, but no cumming for me, not even Sissygasms. To be honest, I’ve become quite successful in cumming by being fucked alone and I love it 🙂 Anyway, by the end of this evening I could add a lot of points and stickers to my list, and I felt so good and used afterwards. Lately I’m thinking a lot about the fact that I can really feel myself when I get used and that I have difficulties to feel myself in everyday life. I guess there are more psychological explainations for that, but I like to think of myself as a whore who feels happy about herself when she’s doing her job right.

At the moment I sincerely consider if chemical castration might be a thing for me. It would make erections harder to archieve and softer in general, so chastity and sissification would feel more natural, and it even could lead to some sort of breast growth. But on the other hand, I’m still really concerned about the fact that a low testosterone level might make me more depressed and lead to more self-harm and stuff.

Next month John and I will be in Thailand and in some ways I fear being confronted with all the beautiful ladyboys there. I know I will envy them. Before we go there I will go to see a surgeon in Poland who obviously doesn’t care if I’m not trans and maybe after the holidays in Thailand I might finally come to a decision due to boobies. For a while now I find it hard to deal with the impulse to cut or otherwise hurt my flat chest, but John keeps telling me that if I add scars to the scars I already have, it might keep doctors from wanting to perform surgery on me. Yeah, I know he’s right, but anway, it’s hard. Especially when John denies to hurt me because he thinks I’m too open or vulnerable.



What a weird summer this had been, don’t you think? I guess the best thing you can say about it is that it’s probably over now. I hope we’ll have a nice and cozy autumn instead.

Today I went shopping with my crossdressing friend Andrea and oh gurl, I think I bought too much again. It’s actually quite funny how different the different sides of my wardrobe look like. On the one side I just have six pairs of trousers, some shirts, two jackets and some sportswear, on the other side there are tons and tons of lingerie, skirts, dresses and blouses. Why’s that? I guess just because female clothing is so much nicer to buy and wear than male clothing, isn’t it? It’s more colourful and interesting, at least to me.

For a while now I’ve been wearing female clothes to work as well and most people do accept that. I found out that wearing skirts or dresses for work is not as comfortable as wearing jeans and a nice shirt, just because I have to carry a lot of stuff around and well, some of the boxes are a bit dusted with earth as well, and I don’t like my dresses to get dirty. But to be honest, the hardest part of crossdressing is not overdoing it. I usually pass better when I cut down on frills and furbelows 🙂

Some months ago I decided to have me cut a fringe, because of course I have the typical M-shaped hairline all males have and with that fringe I can hide that very well. Moreover, it added a certain femininity to my looks, even if I’m not dressed up at all.

So, during this autumn I’ll be wearing a lot of “leggings” and skirts and because I have found the perfect boots to go with them, I may even pass better. I’m so glad they now sell women’s shoes up to size 45 in some shops!