cog hack soft join

OK, that was not really expected but quite delightful. Finding myself out of the confines of my head and into meaningful communication and interaction and understanding and then tied down to a bed and getting slapped and spanked and clawed and having hot wax dripped on me. Then being held and hugged. Begging for mercy and feeling centered. Feeling really good today, relaxed, at peace. 🙂

cpt hook

So, learning things. I’m actually sad over things I decided many years ago I was not allowed to feel sad over, jeez Louise, who would have guessed? I needed “high hopes, low expectations” and mindfulness in relationships, and it has its uses, but all of me inside is needing to weep over all the times that still hurt, the breakups, the fadings out, the phases in relationships where I slowly got used to not receive any attention or focus, where I got used to being an afterthought or a complement. I can do that but I have to do more also.

I was happy – celebratorily so – at the milestone at finally having cried pre-sleep such that I have to blow my nose over and over again until I actually can sleep. Every teenage girl needs to pass this important milestone and I consider it an important step, a sign that I’ve actually grown. At some point, I will be Psycho Girlfriend, and I long for that day too.

On another level, when it storms, my past inclination has been to try to – usually with no success, but never mind that – seek hookups or escalations of play or whatever. Because validation. The thought of that now is… weird. So I want the perception of being alive and of things being meaningful that good sex brings. But unless everything relationally is Just Right, I don’t really feel that?

That’s sort of new. Thinking back at the last times I was with someone, I felt it interesting because of discovery and exploration and closeness and bonding and love. Not wanting to get off, and not wanting to seek sex in order to get off. After some time of intimacy, I can find myself warming up somehow and wanting to get off? Is this how other girls stereotypically function too? We want to be brought to sensory states and climaxes but we don’t have that wish saliently until we’ve already been at it for some time based in emotional connectivity and more conventional sensuality? Is this that whole foreplay idea?

For me then, getting off once I do want it, that is an issue. I can, with toys. I mostly can’t be seen naked, not even with other pre-op girl I am in love with, though I may be able to learn to. But coming is cumbersome, and cleaning up cum is something awful and I hate it. I really hope SRS will fix this part for me, will fix my parts while keeping them sensate.

So where does that leave me? I want to do hookups because emotion and symbolism and decadence and outlets. But I can’t easily because getting and staying in the mood is hard, without chemistry and with dysphoria, very difficult. And in the end, when I want to be stimulated, it’s a ridiculous and unsatisfactory hassle.

Perhaps once I’ve fixed my anatomy I’ll go out and have people fuck me, I’ll probably try it. May not assuage the need for connection and chemistry though. So how do I get what I need, except in relationships? Good question.

auld tan sine

NSFW: Sex party stuff.

*

I’m a sappy, romantic girl. Also I need to learn kinder time management for self. Also life is hard and life is great and I may need and want more consistent/coherent/intensive emotional connections; perhaps I’ve kept expectations low as part of a strategy for not being sad in a life often complex and disappointing. Also the stereotype is real in that if at all possible, trans girls crush on trans girls at the drop of a hat, more than 50% of the time.

*

Went to sex party for NYE again, it was once more transformatory, edifying and more fun than the last two times, I’ve gotten closer to a social self that can handle it. In past years I was shyer and less anchored so I spent more time being unsatisfied with not enough happening. Some this time but less.

As previously, started out with name and pronoun rounds, as well as stating intentions for next year and next few hours. Mine were embodiment, and for the evening, getting caressed, worshipped and spanked into submission, as no-one really has tried my pain threshold and I want that. I suppose what I want is something very specific, and I did not get that yesternight – having my butt spanked with flat, blunt implements like floggers by someone I am sure knows enough not to leave permanent marks, but going at it far and hard and long enough that I really cannot keep dignity. Basically relaxing into a state where I keep no control except resisting, and then lets go and surrenders when it’s reached the level that I cannot stand more. Crying and screaming and actually feeling something more than pretending, giving in because I literally have no choice. This really appeals to me. But also needing for whoever does it to not tease me with pain, not let me get all cool or bored or resentful or dissociated or distracted or zoned-out, it has to stay full-on intensity so I can’t escape anywhere. This has been a tall order for a girl who tends to date subs and very kindly, conscientious people…

Anyway. Then there was facilitated play which was much better than I thought. Group takes turn, one third at a time wears a blindfold for ten minutes. The other two thirds move between the blindfolded people, greet and goodbye them by touch, staying for some time and touching them. Anything is on table unless the blindfolded signals not – pain play, breast fondling, caresses over and under clothing, kissing, biting. Ensure at least one person touching each blindfolded person at all time, preferably more. Hardest part was with people who did not respond much to what I did, easiest where I could guess from their wishes what they liked.

I told people they could remove my corset beforehand. So that felt amazing, being held and moved around, having my chest made unclothed, nipples pinched and kissed and sucked, being grabbed and touched hard by several pairs of hands at once. I didn’t go ecstatic or lose control, but I did have a lot of fun.

This leads to one of several insights. I fear not being as reactive as other people in terms of getting lost in passion, I fear being relatively asensual, that I’ll always have to remain in control, remain aloof and separated. What I’m beginning to suspect is that perhaps I’m just difficult, that I need a lot of time during which I both feel safe and secure, including socially and emotionally, and during which I get sufficiently intensely stimulated, am not allowed to fade out or zone out or dissociate, do not feel the duty to give anything back and so to focus on giving rather than receiving (happens all the time, I always fear being selfish), and am not touched in any of the wrong ways. Maybe if that happens then somewhere there is a state change and I too would lose myself in passion. Or maybe there has to be an emotional connection also. I really hope I can experience that. It seems so, so selfish. And then I think of people I’ve been with who feel guilty for functioning exactly like that. Maybe I function exactly as my girlfriends have, and am as hard to please (and as deserving of that effort) as they? Wouldn’t be the first time it was like that…

Anyway. Then faded out a bit but got to experience violet wanding; tried to push my boundaries by nipple play or so, but while it was fun to experience the electric jolts, in the end it wasn’t strong enough. Perhaps having it directly on genitals while tied up would be something I couldn’t just take, but this was nice but mild.

Then an odd episode. Someone spilled vanilla sauce on himself. I commented that at least something at the party should be vanilla and offered to get a napkin. He offered me to lick it up. So I did, at his feet, and he kept spilling vanilla sauce on his leg while I lapped it up, until I said I’d had enough vanilla sauce. Then we kissed and made out and he gave me pain and pleasure on my upper body through mouth and amazingly strong and capable hands. I felt safe and present mostly, as he was clearly more into giving at this point, and it was mostly surrounding social circumstances – and sort of not knowing him enough to read whether I kept him happy or interested enough, causing again social-style worry – that limited how far I could get to some extent.

This suggests to me that I should make sure not to let social anxieties get in the way. Specifically, it’s great the more I know someone so I can read them, know how they communicate, know what sorts of things they feel, know what they want and what the understanding of the situation is. I will continue to do party play like this, but I’ll hope even more for stable friendships and partnerships as a vehicle for really intense sexual experiences. I need to accept that I stay a social creature also in formal play.

It may also be that I have to acknowledge that I DO have preferences for people, some attract me more than others, and I actually need to be somewhat physically attracted to someone for sex to be able to be as intensive as I want it at least sometime to be…

Then there were some formal sessions/rituals which didn’t do much for me, and I fell out of scope and mood and mindset from having come down, until I was again asked to join play with some people very dear to me in different ways. However, given their relatively more intense dynamic internally, I felt through no fault of theirs that I was somehow in a fifth wheel situation, and having already begun thinking on the above, that moved me even further out, and I spiralled on that thought. In a sense, I realized I really want situations where I don’t worry at all socially, where I feel fully engaged, and where I feel certain we want the same thing, and that this is what we want most and undividedly, right there, right then. Not in all cases, perhaps, but that type of emotional framing for sex, with friends and partners alike, seems like something I may need to focus more on, I need more talk on the framing and perhaps I should be more restrictive on whether a certain time is the right time or not?

Found the way back though as we ended up with me essentially cuddling the others while casually using a vibrator on my bottom parts through clothing. It turned a somewhat challenging situation into a great opportunity. I can’t recall when last I masturbated except as isolated experiment to see whether I still could come, certainly years ago, so having a situation where the best thing to do was to lie in a cuddle pile masturbating was a great learning opportunity. I can indeed stay in pantyhose tuck and use even a small vibrator, I won’t get too hard, and can trace tissues like where outer and inner labia would be, where the clitoris would be, where the vaginal opening would be, can try to trace what touching sensations and pressure on these parts would be like, and that felt safe and good. I could get close to coming, enjoy that, and edge myself for what must have been close to two hours. It takes me time to be able to reach close to climax, I can keep myself close to there and enjoy vibrations, and when I finally went over, I enjoyed that too.

Then the fluid aspect made everything horrible. I don’t ejaculate so much, and it is clear fluid at least, but I loathe it so much because in this setting I end up with the tucking panties getting wet and cold, so the only way out is to again acknowledge the shape of my anatomy. Up until that point I don’t have to. It’s possible that being all wet would be fine if I could be naked (and/or casually wipe off), but getting naked reminds of my shape. I can’t use any other words for it, I can’t type out what others might call my genitals. And loathe getting hard, and can only hide it from myself by tucking.

So… I want to be able to stay relaxed throughout pleasure, but right now, coming means a huge let down, dysphoria spike, logistics. All so cumbersome. I just want to be able to stay present in my embodied self and not have to edit my impressions or keep doing workarounds. Well, maybe I look for confirmation that I should have surgery, but yes. There should be a way around this. And I worry about finding the right technique, and recovery times and challenges, and costs, and things that can go wrong one way or another, and how afraid I will be of complications without easy access to the same surgeon, and how afraid I will be that healing won’t go well, or that nerves won’t work.

I’m still really afraid, and I become more afraid when I think of really doing it end of this year. That’s so close! Barely any time to prepare! However will my life be ready! But at the same time, I want it done now, I want it over with. I want more life post-operatively. I’m definitely on a track here. I briefly implied to my parents I will do it, and to the rest of the world. I think perhaps people won’t be surprised. I hope it will be soon. I hope I won’t regret anything going wrong. I feel guilty that I’d pay so much privately rather than save/invest, if waiting longer would mean insurance coverage. But I realize I won’t wait three years for a body I can be naked in.

In the meantime, I’ll try my best to enjoy sex, and nudity as best I can, and so on. It will be a year of workarounds. But what else is new?

It will be OK.

xaos

So much at once good and bad. Good – adventure, walking in Finnish hospital tunnels, meeting collaborators for posh vegan food, fully OK threesomes, flying back and forth. Workshop on intimacy for AMAB people with dysphorias; heard stories of South American travestitas and hijra from Pakistan; including divisions within their communities. A woman who had bottom surgery last year offered to let me see her vagina and to put a gloved finger in it; not sexual, very enlightening and empowering, all things considered. Potential future hookups with yet other people. Spending an evening writing reports, with a friend coming over for company, then staying for what turned out to be conversation, cuddling and sex. Date with a guy tomorrow, another next week – I promise this was not supposed to be a post about my sex life. Had more bottom electrolysis this morning, then lots of meetings. In which one person misgendered me, and another mentioned immune system sex differences not hormonally driven, both of which make me a dysphoric mess, at the same time as I have to make lots of decisions on project reporting, paper writing, data analysis, statistics and administration. Plus looking so much forward to the party this weekend. Am I being my own stereotype? Maybe. I love this but it is intensive.

oxytocodein

CW lots, NSFW and if you don’t want the dirt on my life, better not read; this one likely will be censored if ever this blog gets connected to my real name

Lots of things happening, mostly good. Work stress from windows of opportunity that opened still looms large but for good or ill I am trying to not let it edge out all social life. So went to check out new club friends are setting up, then on Sunday joined up with said people to go dance during day 2 of a big gay rave. Continued to program on the train to there. This is my life now? I seem to be becoming exactly who I’d dreamed to be, with all the upsides and downsides thereof.

Second party day was interesting. Clocked by drag queens who complimented me, felt OK but not connected. Gave out my business card to a woman in the darkroom, and to the woman manning the door. Dancing was great, thought I saw Asbjørn by the DJ booth, had some guy dancing very physically with me. I realized after a while I wasn’t so comfortable with that, and had an interesting exercise pushing him away subtly, though it was only when I gave clear hand signals he desisted. Felt like another rite of passage.

My companions offered various drugs, weed and ecstasy and speed. Partook of some of each, but small amounts as I couldn’t know how they would affect me; tried only the former before. Neither of the latter really felt much, or gave much beyond the venue itself. May be more on higher doses, which seems inadvisable. Not same coziness as from MDMA, which I definitely should be careful with. I think there was a slightly higher longing-to-be-hugged within one hour, and a tendency to talk a lot and be social within three, and then a tendency to shiver after six or nine. The only E I would want to use habitually would be estradiol, though. Picked up my new patch scripts for that today.

Drugs aside, the party was nice. I mostly spent time with a friend who is also trans. We watched the men in the darkroom basically just go full on sex without much context or communication (though clearly always with consent and hopefully condoms) and were uncertain on what the codes for that actually are. Later that evening we ended up making out, which I had not expected or planned for at all, but found delightful; there may be a scent dimension I had missed beyond “smelling sexy” // “not smelling sexy” which is “tasting good” // “tasting distracting”. Slowly observing increased granularity of this. My friend tasted good, and we ended up at her place spending the rest of the night touching and kissing.

This is the first time I am intimate with another trans woman after starting transition myself, and it was a very powerful and liberating experience I hope we will repeat (having a bundle of unspecific emotions that will be happily sorted out later). Recognizing how I cannot parse the sense of her as anything but female, and receiving the same in return, helps me stay hopeful that my efforts are working, and I found that circumstances of mutual dysphoria made it a little easier to be seen in my pre-op state. Also recognizing I’m not really functioning like I want to. Curious on what adding progesteron might do, and if I need to relearn how to climax at this point; experiments with high-end vibrators upcoming when there’ll be time.

Noticing also, in link with the darkroom exchanges, the dance floor exchanges and so forth: sudden intimacy with a stranger might not scare me but it feels dissociated and dispassionate. I recognize this largely is a stereotyped social construct, but I think that with reduced libido I may not be able to get in the mood without some form of relational buildup and activation. Essentially feeling what may be typical of lesbian vs gay male club hookups. More data needed. All in all, happily recognizing that my casual encounters might have to build on serious friendships and that I can’t go from 0 to full libidinality without buildup. I hadn’t recognized what the latter feels like. Essentially, sexual dimensions seem empty and boring until they have been contextualized enough?

soror tuck

NSFW?

So, ah, another thing I thought I would never do, done. Hearing how a trans woman I strongly admire do tuck in her pre-op state as a matter of course, and hearing it recommended from others to try to get a view on a post-op body despite dissociation, I tried it tonight.

Put the awful cursed gonads (now nicely shrunk from HRT, though still not all the way down to grape size – more like large olives) into the body somehow. Then using a gaff made by pinterest instruction from pantyhose parts, and a thong above that, and another pair of panties on that, and then intact pantyhose.

Then went out on the subway to one of my late night café haunts to work a while.

Did not feel much at first, not from the sight in the mirror, but I like the sight when sitting crosslegged. Some attention drawn to the area, as a drawback, but I do experience that I am not “protruding“ sensory nerves to some weird point in front of the body.

Still don’t know fully what I think about this. But the thought of being able to wear any underwear I want, and the feeling of not protruding out, that is interesting. A little cumbersome, but I think I will keep experimenting with this.

parties

NSFW I guess.

My genitals feel like some sort of alien thing, not a part of me, not something I can understand as me. That’s not to say I hate them, I suppose, but I’m recognizing that I cannot relate well to them. With my frame and face and presentation changing, I can relate much better to the rest of me, I am not diverting my gaze from my mirror image. I don’t want to look directly at crotch bulges, or to be naked under my own gaze, however, and if a partner touches me there, I want to still be clothed so I don’t see, so I know I am not seen, and I loathe the dark mood state of cleanup that follows release.

I suppose this is genital dysphoria. I’ll keep up my efforts to create the situation where SRS as I want it becomes a real and immediate option, with the various social and emotional and physical and logistical and financial barriers out of the way. At the point those barriers are lowered, will I get it? Beginning to very much seem so.

corpora

NB: NSFW

Libido stays low, and this mostly does not bother me. Theoretical and conceptual interest in sex as symbol and practice remains high. Sex as bonding with partners work, and I’ve enjoyed that – exploring and touching them. One big difference is that it’s become much like cuddling with some parts deepening into more intense touch and stimulation, I don’t really care as much as I used to about anyone getting off, which used to be a really big thing for me.

As regards the one I am with, I want of course for them to reach whatever goal they are after, but the need to provide that (and gain validation from having been able to provide that) has lessened significantly. I worried some this would make me lazy but I don’t think it has to, as long as I ensure I stay embodied and comfortable and liking the cuddling/intimacy aspect while I do things with them, then I’m still happy giving another what they seek, so long as I am happy having sex with them in the first place.

As regards myself, it’s now been long since I climaxed, almost so I fear sometimes I may risk losing the capacity. However, this is not for trying and failing, but for not trying at all; I have zero interest to self-pleasure, and when with a partner, while on some level I want for them to make me come, the idea of messy discharges and coming down to the reality of my current parts configuration is off-putting enough that I haven’t asked for it, though probably next time I shall because I’m curious how it will feel now, how and if it has changed.

Generally, uncomfortable baring bottom parts even during sex now. This all sounds awfully like increasing (clarity of) genital dysphoria. I wonder what it would be like post-op? And also, I’m curious on whether the anecdotal experiences of others saying another form of libido returned to them once they started progesterone would apply to me. I will meet my new endocrinologist next week, will ask then if they will support me trying it.

Also while I am still switch and still capable of top dynamics, it seems
a lot of the drive for that was validation-related. Interesting.

TLDR; All in all good, calm, but also gradually more and more curious on what being stimulated is like now, and less and less comfortable with my parts during sex. Curious on who I am now sexually. Demisexual switch?

stream of unknowing

So, so, so many interconnected things at once. Want to update, finding it hard to find time. Will summarize important things, perhaps?

– One month on hormones. Just went to give blood for followup tests. CPA & estradiol, ensuring B12, omega-3, zinc, iron levels stay well by supplement. Curious on lab test results.
– Probably wholly unrelated ache/hotness in kneecaps, like before when I was heavier. Inflammation, presumably. Should go see a doctor. It may be that my muscles begin to atrophy, and that this places strains.
– Speaking of muscle atrophies, still no sign. Eager to lose the bulky biceps.
– Sensitivity and some tenderness and swelling of breasts, though not yet statistical significance of filling out. Feeling entirely unselfconscious about wearing a bra to work now though. And nipples seem most reliable way for me to get aroused.
– On that level, generally not caring/thinking about sex, and happy about that. If with someone and we take the steps to engage, it still works fine, better than before since I care less about any end points. No idea if tumescence sufficient for penetration any longer, and could not care less about that. Not taking the time to self-stimulate, so certainly at risk for eventual shrinkage. Have better things to do anyway; I now seem more sensitive to stress as a sexuality repressor.
– Lack of casual such responses surprisingly happiness-inducing, feeling more at home in my body all the time. Having sometime weird and unexpected responses to the smell of certain men. Still visual and tactile attraction to women, not so much to men, but gaining olfactory/pheromonal responses to men? Fine if so, interesting as a minor curiosity.
– Seems not to smell so much, either sweat-wise or with regards to body excretions. This may or may not involve vegetarianism as a component, too.
– Having rare moments of blood pressure drops when rising suddenly, never happened before. So might not be hypertensive anymore?
– Feeling of basic calm (fight or flight replaced by still melancholia) remaining strong, happy about that. No real sign of increased emotionality, unless recent steps of taking fears seriously, and being sad about sad things were such. Curious. Probably no more or less irritable. Occasional days of feeling nebulously angry, perhaps, but no need to act on it, just calmly observing it. EDIT, no this is there, there is more emotion, just not all good. It’s harder to ignore fear or anxiety or stress. That’s one thing that is there.
– Body hair growth rate halved.
– Feeling really bad about service folks misgendering me. Need to escalate facial hair removal and voice training. The latter seems somehow psychologically easier? Not likely a direct hormonal effect. Still real.
– Big thing: confidence? Knowing my body changes makes me doubt myself less, question myself less, see myself as more legitimate. I dare more, I claim my rebirthright spaces and contexts more as a matter of course. And that also made me realize I have boundaries, I get to set them, I matter. It becomes clearer. I see finally who the Crone part of my tripartite Goddesshood is, beginning to see her stare back at me in the mirror. This is just starting. Will elaborate more later.
– Further and further and further out of the closet. Now really only the silent standstill with parents left.

I need to blog about Moyashimon as a trans narrative too, but that will have to wait.

slow procedural

In continued news of so-subtle-I-probably-imagine-it, I sometimes feel like it takes more effort – and possible more effort to succeed – to recollect some old memory details. Not generally, not in a scary sense. But like things which were habitually kept in mind happened longer ago than they did. On a possibly related note, I look at things I wrote in the past and I see spelling mistakes, noticing them. Yesternight had some moments when well-known sights and experiences felt new, like I saw details I had not noticed before. Taken together, I suspect that if this is not just confirmation bias, it is the indication of neural and mental turnover, that my system in some ways is doing a fresh start. If so, that calls for me to take good care of myself and raise/guide myself well through this developmental stage, to lay groundwork properly. Taking omega-3, zink, B12 and iron supplements, among others. Attempting to sleep better – I suppose I do, I sleep deep enough and wake earlier than often in the past.

Things like being cold and shivering, but not sick, are more related to my dieting, which also likely increases turnover, as well as hopefully garbage collection via autophagy. Glad to have shifted to a 99% vegetarian diet, I feel better about incorporating less animal tissue derived building blocks into my new body growth.

Another thing, less worksafe. The virtual loss of erections. Even thinking of sexy things, or when feeling warm and safe (this too could produce a non-sexual but physical transient tumescent response in me, before), I hardly grow stiff. I can by making an effort, combining touch and fantasy, generally needing to first touch my breasts. Doing that feels different too, a cloudy and eye-opening kind of sensation in-between emotion and sensation. Light touch, too, not presently feeling I want rough touch there, though I probably will come to. But all those things aside, I am happier than I expected over the non-erections, or weakened erections, in both sexual and non-sexual contexts. It’s like the possibility of tumescence was always there fluctuating weakly but significantly on the lower range of some scale, pulling at attention, making me feel that area of my body somehow not being under my control, and restricting movement and sensation, being both vulnerable and obtrusive. Sensitivity there to cold or touch has changed, growing fuzzier, I can often think easier of just having hips and legs and belly area and crotch, and feeling more anchored and at peace, again, somehow, both in sexual and non-sexual mindsets. Have not yet been with a lover after starting HRT, and am curious on what it will be like.

I keep talking about sex stuff. That’s not to indicate that is so important, or that what I am doing is about it. It is however one of the earliest clearly real changes, so it warrants my documentation. More to the point, I am continuing to conclude that the everyday experience of human beings – being emotional and social creatures in context and identity – IS something where subliminal (in the general sense of the word, below some cutoff) sexual functionalities and responses actually do affect our feelings and actions and anchorings. Freudianism is a pot of garbage in most ways, but our complex selves are woven out of the stuff of our bodies like knitted dolls out of yarn, and I don’t think those things are irrelevant on a broader scale to how the rest of us functions. Even soft and airy and cerebral and complexly interlinked and intersectional realities still depend on some simpler body processes, and in affecting some of those, I open up the possibility of gross or subtle tone and texture changes also in my more complex selves…

Dreamt strongly last moments of this night, remembering unusually clearly. I was living somewhere vaguely similar to where I did before. I was myself, as a transitioning person, and it was sort of at this point in my life. I met some gang of youths much like those I saw yesternight before sleep in my police procedural & whiskey wind-down, as I was going out, and they indicated after some anger towards me for some slight that they had/would vandalize where I lived. I accepted and held that worry. Then I was on a bus, and getting off it, and there was also my estranged friend of a long time, A, wearing a nice brown/purple trench coat thing. On the bus ride I read a long set of multi-page linked articles/thinkpiece thing in one of my native country’s tabloids, which A had written – in the dream he may have been a journalist, and the writing, appropriately, was poetic but vague of content or conclusions – it was about either the Alt-Right or trolls or some intersection thereof. Meeting him on the bus stop was a chance to finally meet again, we hugged and I still could not tell whether he shuns me or not. But he was supposed to come with me and stay there, I guess before traveling onwards the next day? The youths were waiting inside the house but outside my door, and I was concerned but not scared; they had painted graffiti over some house decorations that were ugly anyway. A again did not really betray any emotion over any of those things. Then I woke and gradually concluded I had slept enough.

Woke to take meds and vitamins and fluid. Checking emails and writing updates and launching scripts from my bed. Then for replacing shower bandages (mole removal surgeries), washing hair, donning makeup and going to work.