Goddamn Freak Me

Last Friday I had my appointment with the only doctor who didn’t refuse my request for breast surgery right away. John and I had travelled there the day before and checked in to a nice hotel. I was nervous beyond words and I guess my sweet husband needed all his patience to cope with my jumpiness and anxiety. We tried a bit sightseeing, but I actually didn’t see much. In the evening, John invited me to a restaurant, but I wasn’t really hungry. The night was awful and the next morning was even worse. I was so nervous I started scratching myself and so he always took at least one of my hands in his, even during the ride to the doctor.

Well, to put a long story short: there is no way I’m going to have breast surgery in Germany. If I was a transgirl, there’d be no problem, especially when paying for it privately. But he said he would not perform such surgery on a male, due to what he called his professional ethics. Even when I started crying and John told him for how much time I have wanted boobs now, he said there is no way.

When we left, I just felt nothing. I mean, why didn’t he tell me beforehand? I could have saved time, money and nerves. But to be honest, what hurt most was that he denied to perform surgery. If I was a liar, I could have easily told him that sure I’m a transgirl blah blah blah, then he would have said yes. And it really pisses me off to think I should have told a lie.

In the car on the autobahn I just cried. John still held my hand and was very soft and cute with me all day and night, but I just felt like shit.

On Saturday I only felt numb. In the evening, John and I talked other options over. As I won’t take hormones for some reasons, it’s just the question where I can find some doctor to perform surgery on me. I think, after considering my options, there’s only one real chance, that is having surgery in Poland. Sure, they have exquisite surgeons in Thailand as well, but that’s quite a long way to see my doctor in case any problems occur.

So, my next step will be to look out for a Polish surgeon who is fricking willing to earn some money by performing surgery on me.

At the moment, I’m not feeling well at all. The conversation on Friday has not only destroyed my hopes, it also left me again with the feeling that I’m just a freak. Like, not even such a “freak transgurl”, but just a disgusting freak. He asked me why I as a sane (LOL) male being would want boobs while other men are eager to have them removed if they develop some. I honestly answered, because I don’t feel male all the time, yet I don’t feel female all the time, but being a part time female person has helped me so much to live out my feelings, get into contact with my true self and live a happier life. He acted like these reasons were just rubbish. For me, they are not.

Each time I look into the mirror and each time I stuff my bras with silicone tits, I feel incomplete. I honestly envy transgirls for the changes their bodies undergo on hormones. If I wanted to have my telephone number tattooed on my forehead or if I split my cock in two, nobody would care. At the moment I just feel crap. Maybe that’s part of this journey to try to become more like myself, but I hate every single minute of it. I hate asking myself again and again why on earth my father didn’t kill me after he was done with me to prevent me becoming such a damn freak.

Birthday Gurl

Monday was my birthday and John had taken the day off to spend it with me πŸ™‚ During breakfast he presented me with another bead for my Pandora bracelet. I totally love it and I change the beads quite often, but the one that always stays on is that tiny heart lock πŸ™‚

Right after breakfast he had promised me a little trip with a surprise, and he asked me to dress up moderately. I just put on foundation and powder, a bit of a bright eyeshade, mascara and a light lip gloss, and I wore bright stockings, a wide skirt and a matching shirt. He told me to wear flat shoes, so I put on girly sneakers. Over the months, my make up skills have improved, I think. I still struggle with my stubbles, because even if I have bright blonde hair, my stubbles are of a darker tone and shine through quite easily. I have considered having my beard removed with laser therapy, but to be honest I like it somehow and wouldn’t want to cut off the option to let it grow.

First, we headed into the city where John fetched a sort of picnic basket from a restaurant that offers such lunch service. So maybe for no one else in the whole wide world that might have been meaningful, but for me it was as he usually insists that preparing food is my job. Having not to do so on my birthday was a real gift for me and I thought it was unbelievably cute πŸ™‚

Then he drove us out of town to a sort of park. In fact, it’s a wildlife sanctuary where you can hike or just go for a walk and where they have a deer park and the possibility to go on guided boat trips as well. First of all I needed to see and feed the deer and OMG they were so cute πŸ˜€ John had taken his camera and I took about 1200000 pictures of them πŸ˜€ We strolled about the park, took a seat by the lakefront and watched birds, talking the time away. John suggested we might go on a boat and for about two hours we were ridden about the lake, learning about its flora and fauna and holding hands and stuff πŸ™‚

Afterwards, John fetched the basket from the car and we had our picnic on a bench by the lake. For me, that all was a sort of princess dream come true πŸ™‚

In the evening and after I had changed into normal male clothes, we met with some friends and my brother and his wife for dinner. I guess I’ve eaten too much that day 😦

Back From NOLA

For a week now I’m back from the U.S. I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to say goodbye before I went away, but as soon as March was there I actually had no time for anything, because there was still so much to do, and when I was back, I needed some days to get back mentally as well, though I think I might still need some time to sort it all out.

But first things first: my toe has healed up nicely and I was surprised by how quick it went eventually.

To be honest, it’s really impossible to just say some words about my journey, even more because it was the first time I was away from home that far and without John. In some sort of way it might have been a life-changing experience, in other concerns I think it reminded me of certain things I already knew but I tend to forget every now and then. When the plane was over the Atlantic ocean and there was no land to be seen for hours, I felt unreal, lost between space and time. Everything I know was far away, and I was heading to a sort of uncertain future (at least for some days, but it felt different), and I was glad W was with me there and I could squeeze his hand some times. I felt like I had accomplished something that was never meant for me, and certain aspects of my life suddenly seemed so far away. I guess I felt like I am no longer the fearsome boy I once was, and I thought of my father and wondered if he ever would have thought I’d see America and dare to be that free, to travel almost alone to see a bit of the world and rise above what he had in mind for me?

Well, you can tell straight away that that experience made me thoughful πŸ™‚

In some way the U.S. is exactly like we all knew it from the movies, in some other ways it’s very different from all these clichΓ©s. I found people are overall very friendly and open-minded, but that might be because W chose where we went and because we met so many people of his family and friends and so on. What hit me right after leaving the plane was the weather. It was quite warm and humid and I’m not used to that, even though W said that it was quite mild then πŸ™‚

We stayed at W’s auntie’s and I was nervous to meet her, but within minutes she had made me feel at home and I was warmly welcomed to her place, just like she was my auntie as well. I had brought her a present and I think she liked it. One of her sons had kindly given his room to me, while W was sleeping in a room with his other cousin. You know, I’m a people pleaser and try to make feel people comfortable and I guess that helped to break the ice immediately. Nevertheless I needed three to five days to cope with being in a different time-zone and I wonder how people like W and John get along with that so well.

New Orleans is a fascinating city and the first thing that came into my mind was the word FUSION. How often had W used that word to describe the city and the area in general, and now I know exactly what he meant. On the one hand, New Orleans is very modern and W claims that this part of the city is more or less the same as in most big cities in the U.S., on the other hand it is somehow old-fashioned and traditional, maybe even because they like to keep it that way to add a certain flair and fulfil the expectations of all the visitors, I don’t know. On several nights, W and I met with members of his family and friends to explore the nightlife. It’s just amazing! There’s music everywhere, in the bars and even in the streets, and it fits so well into that place. And I guess it’s that music- and bar-culture most people immediately think of when they hear you’ve been to Nola πŸ™‚

The other side of our trip was getting to know the more rural Louisiana whereas a part of W’s family lives away from New Orleans. W had organized a car for us and he drove us around, and we stayed several nights with another uncle of his. It was unreal to see the Mississippi and I was impressed by how huge that river actually is and how unreal the swamps are as well. It’s really a different kind of world there and I think I might have gotten a glimpse of how that landscape has influenced the people to become who they are now, and how much W’s spirituality is actually influenced by this landscape and its Devas or gods or however you want to name these energies as well, even though W now lives in Germany. I don’t know whether these gods were interested in me, but I thought I could sense them and I think I understand them better now and why it makes sense to deal with W’s gods the way he does. For example W always told me that a proper offering to certain gods or energies must contain the blood of a recently slaughtered animal. I always thought that this was odd and cruel, but having witnessed now that it’s part of the culture there to buy animals alive and home-slaughter them, it makes more sense to me (though I’d refuse to do so anyway).

In general I have learned a lot about W’s spirituality. He’s generous with his teachings anyway, but I had never really understood certains things, or I could never really connect to certain aspects. Having experienced this spirituality insitu now feels like finally having stepped through a door. Certain aspects of his belief always seemed spooky to me, like visiting graveyards to connect with the dead and gods that reside between them, and having experienced that sort of “rotten” charm each and everything automatically has in that land of swamps made it somehow easier to understand why death and symbols of death are so important. In some sorts it’s very different to my German heritage and I wasn’t surprised to finally think that all I have learned about W’s belief came alive there. To be honest, I myself felt a deep connection to W’s gods there as well, and to me it felt like for example the Jesus I experienced there with W is not the same like the Jesus that hung in the kitchen in my father’s house or in the churches in Germany. That “Voodoo Jesus” is more like a real person to me, with real characteristics, and I can talk to him and he would understand me, without the need for a priest between us.Β When we were back in New Orleans I got into a little shopping coma and bought some stuff to work with when I would be back home, like a little Jesus made of resin, prayer beads, candles, incense sticks and so on πŸ™‚ W told me that he thinks Lord Shiva and that Jesus fit well together, as they’re both connected to the sun, the light, the fire and so on, and that’s what I feel as well. In fact, I can’t wait for summer and hope to deepen my spiritual life a bit more again.

The best things about our trip there certainly were getting to know all those kind people, the area around New Orleans and Louisiana in general (at least a bit), experiencing my ability to be away from home and all things I’m used to, the boost that trip gave my own spirituality and the possibilty to spend so much time with my best friend and get to know more about his origin.

The morning before we went off, John had put me into the Birdlock and put a plastic lock on it as well. I was frustrated because wanking actually is one of my few techniques to calm me down, but he insisted I would not be allowed out. On day 9 of our trip I was feeling really down for a reason and when I called John and he heard how done I was, he allowed me to cut the lock open and wank one time, then to lock me in again. He had sneaked a second plastic lock into my case, so that I was able to send him a picture of me being locked in again after I relieved myself. I thought that was cute πŸ™‚

When we returned home, he picked me up at the airport (and M was there as well), and it just took until we were more or less alone in the parkdeck until he claimed what he had missed so long, but he let me wait for three more days until he allowed me out again. That was hard, but I loved every single second of it. It was good to be away, but it is good to be home again and an owned slut as well. I think all in all that trip again made clear what I ought to know anyway: I am his and I could never exist without his beautifully hurting kind of love. Moreover, it is good to be able to be Ginny again, because due to that idiot they now have ruling over them, I decided it would be much safer to travel as Blaubeermann only. I have missed my pretty gurly things πŸ™‚

 

 

 

Cross The Puddle

We have some U.S. citizens among our closest friends (like my buddy W) and in the past few months there has only been one topic, namely their new president. Usually I’m not very interested in politics though John is always well-informed and tells me a lot about what’s going on, but this time it’s quite different. I’m concerned about what Trump’s election will do not only to the U.S. but to the world in general and I think it won’t be long before he will try to distract people from what’s going on inside the U.S. by starting a war.

And I’m concerned on a very personal level, because W and I will be travelling to the U.S. in March, which was planned long-term. Though W keeps telling me that I don’t fit into their enemy-scheme, I just feel fear for my personal security and that puts a lot of pressure upon me. Not that a 14-hour-flight alone would stress me out… I fear I might get strip-searched, and while being abused is my kink, I know this would re-traumatize me. Sometimes I freak out that much that I actually consider cancelling that trip.

On the other hand everyone keeps telling me that these holidays will be so imporant for me, and I too want to go. It would be so beautiful to meet people of W’s family and get to know all the places that mean so much to him. And of course I’m really excited to learn more about his spiritual tradition as well.

At the moment I’m constantly asking myself what I was thinking. Ugh.

Long Time No See

I can’t believe it’s been a month since I’ve posted here last time. Happy new year to everybody πŸ™‚ Hope you’ve been alright.

The last couple of weeks have been very busy and very beautiful as well. Right after the new year had started, John and I went off to see Leo in Switzerland. We had a nice suite in a hotel in the Alps and spent the week with relaxing in their spa, skiing (John only, while Leo and I sat inside some nice bar or on their terrace, where I got a bad sunburn), going out for dinner and talking the nights away. When we returned home, John and I felt lonely, like we always do when we have to say goodbye to Leo.

I’ve taken part in a Yoga workshop about clear-outs and new starts which was just beautiful. I think I’ve taken from it a lot of inspiration for this new year, and as a result I started by clearing out some of my old stuff like books, magazines, clothes and so on. It was the first time I felt like I’m able to give away some of my gurly things I no longer wear, and I gave them to Andrea. I want to continue clearing out and even check our kitchen, the livingroom and so on.

At work the things are back to the normal pace, except for my decision to try to work more hours. From now on until the end of March I will be working 16 up to 20 hours a week instead of 12. If I can’t make it, then I shall tell my boss right away, but the past weeks have been o.k. If by the end of March I think I want to keep it up, then I’ll be able to. At the moment it feels well, and I don’t complain about earning more money. John lets me keep all my money to myself and he’s generous with his, but I like having more money to spend for things he likes, like make-up, my nails, lingerie and some dinners outside πŸ™‚

Concerning Ginny, I have come to a state of mind where things feel a bit more settled. I’m not so anxious about what other people might think about me when I’m dressed up. I think though I’m quite slender, you can tell right away I’m a man, and that’s no longer such a problem for me. When I don’t pass, I don’t mind as long as I feel good about myself, and being able to talk about my crossdressing feelings with a trans-friend of mine really helped me getting things sorted out. I like myself as a guy and I like myself as Ginny, and the only thing I still would want to change is that I really want to have small boobies. Natural, if possible. The problem with transplantation of my own body-fat might be that I don’t have as much breast tissue like a woman has, so to shape boobs that really look natural I might need to get silicone implants, ironically. We have talked a lot about that recently and I thought very often how much easier it would be to “just” take hormons, but I’m not willing to do that as there’s anyway no chance to get them from a German doctor, because I’m not trans. And taking hormons of some strange sources surely isn’t the right thing to do for me, because it may effect my mental disorder. I think surgery is the best way, and as t seems, I might even be able to have surgery in Germany! Let’s face it: as long as you pay the bills, you can even get boobs if you’re a man. The only thing that keeps me from getting boobies right away is the fear that I might regret it, though for the past years that wish has just gotten stronger. And even if I find some day that having boobs was a bad idea, what hinders me to have them removed then?

Leo said something so nice that I want to remember forever. He said: nothing hotter than a person with a dick and boobs πŸ™‚

 

 

Between Days

Christmas was very exhausting this year and I think I’m glad when we’re all back to normal next week. In fact, I am happy to work between the holidays. Tomorrow I’ll be in from 8 to 12, then again on Monday. I found it challenging to cope with the high expectations my brother and his wife have towards Christmas. I do understand they want to celebrate it and I do understand that they expect me (or us) to fit into that need. But I too feel that even doing my best isn’t good enough, because I am “different”, for whatever that’s supposed to mean. During the hoidays I have to cope with a lot of bad memories coming up and to be honest with a lot of self-pity about how and who I might have been as well.

Meeting W and M on Christmas was so much easier for me, and it was because I could be the gurl I am with them. M had prepared the most delicious japanese fondue ever, for them with meat and fish, for me without. I even had two small glasses of wine and did well with them.

Even though John and I don’t make each other big gifts, he presented me with a beautiful pearl for the Pandora bracelet and he even wrote me a cute card, which is very unusual, to say thanks for anything I do for him and let him do, with or without me.

Tomorrow we’ll be visiting W and M again who have also invited some other friends over. I think I couldn’t start better into the new year.

I want to thank anybody who sticks with me here and wish you a healthy and happy new year!

Happy Holidays!

Sometimes being among strangers as a crossdresser is kind of weird and it even may lead to situations in which I feel uncomfortable. Sometimes I misjudge situations and people and what I think is a potentially harmful environment turns out to be welcoming and vice versa. In everyday life, my crossdressing is quite discreet. I don’t want to be mistaken for a hooker, even though that’s part of my and John’s kink. In everyday life, I just love to be Ginny and you know that she’s become a very important part of me. Ginny isn’t a whore, she’s just cute, shy and a bit giggly and she likes John to be a gentleman and so on. Perfect clothes for Ginny in everyday life are for example chinos with a cute jacket and sneakers or, if the occasion is right, a skirt or dress with cute sandals and so on.

I guess the most challenging part of being among people as a crossdresser is getting the body language right. Men and women have different ways to behave, to move and to gesture, and I think you can tell right away when you see me, even from behind, that I’m a guy and not a girl, even though I’ve gotten better over time. Well, and being quite tall and having a male physique doesn’t quite help πŸ™‚ I think for a man, I am quite slim, but still I have wider shoulders then women tend to have and longer arms and so on. And how well I do as a woman is a question of how I feel as well. Sometimes when I’m weary or nervous, I tend to fall back into my normal body language, and when I’m relaxed and most times when John is with me, I’m better.

So, yesterday John and I were out to shop for what we’ll need during the following days and I was dressed up as Ginny, but I felt a bit uncomfortable. Shops were full and people were a bit stressed out, and I tried my best not the attact attention in a negative way. It wouldn’t have marvelled me if someone would have said not so nice things to me, but then I got my own little Christmas surprise. I was scrambling about in a box of salads to find me one with not so many wilted leaves on, when I felt someone standing next to me. I looked up and saw it was a woman, about my age. She smiled at me and asked me to hand her one good salad, too, and then she smiled again, thanked me and added conspirationally: “I think you do very well…I mean, you look beautiful. Merry Christmas!” in German. I was so baffled, then I had to smile. That was so cute πŸ™‚

Tomorrow evening we’ll be visiting my brother and sister-in-law. My brother asked me to come “like my brother”, so no crossdressing obviously. On the 25th we’ll meet A and M for lunch and my friend W and his partner M for dinner, and on the 26th we’ll see my brother and sister-in-law for dinner again. Busy days ahead.

I know I don’t have many followers, but I wish you all joyful Christmas and happy holidays!