Something Close To My Heart



Well, knowing what has been going on recently, I thought it might be good idea to post something regarding Suicide and Suicide Prevention. I think I am going to add another page just for this issue, but it is going to take a little time to get it put together. In the mean time I found the following information online.

Suicide… Read This First


Needless to say, this is a very serious issue and one which needs to be dealt with correctly. I really wanted to be able to post information along with any links I found, but it is going to take more time than I have at the moment. I ask you to either follow the link above, or at the least, do a Google search for Suicide and/or Suicide Prevention.

I know from personal experience how serious an issue this is. In seeking help for myself, I hope I can help others as well.

This isn’t something to be done alone.

I’m A Mess Part 1


Have you ever reached a point where you wanted to go for a long walk alone, just so you can let your thought burn off? Just start moving and keep going with no destination in mind, just loosing yourself in the movement?

I wish I could do that now.

I’ve become lost in a haze and I don’t know where I am going or even why.

My thoughts are a rambling mess and I don’t know what I want to say, I know there are things I need to express but I just don’t know how. I’m sure this post is going to be a jumbled, confused mess and for that I am sorry. Usually I try to have something sensible to say, but today I just can’t.

For awhile now I have been feeling my self understanding slipping through my fingers. I just can’t get a grip on who I really am, on what I am. I have looked and looked for someone blogging about this feeling, I have done countless Google searches, and still I haven’t found anything…. anyone.

There is a very serious disconnect between how I feel about my body and how I feel about the way my mind works. While I have a terrible body image, I know I can live with this physical form. I don’t have body dysphoria. I don’t feel a driving need to make major changes to get a female body. Yes, I often think about HRT, I wonder if it would be a help or a curse. There are days when it is a desire I can almost taste and yet, there are just as many when it barely crosses my thoughts. No, at this point, I know I can live as I am physically, maybe not happily, but it isn’t torture.

Mentally, emotionally, is a very different story….

I can’t stand it when I fall back into masculine habits. Into those male dominated thought patterns. When I find myself thinking in the ways I did before, when I find myself thinking of myself in masculine terms.

Does any of that make sense?

When I find my thoughts and feelings taking such a turn, I become depressed, unsure of myself, and just falling into such a feeling of failure it rips away my will power. I want to curl up and die. It’s like someone has pulled the rug out from under me.

I hate my birth name… even when in full blown boy mode, I never liked it. In girl mode I despise it beyond words. When I find myself using it to think of myself, which thankfully has been slowly diminishing, I want to scream. If I could I would burn it from my thoughts forever.

For me, it represents everything I never wanted to be. It is the epitome of everything I hate. I know the people in my life, loved ones and just people who know me in passing, know me by that name, and so I am forced to tolerate it, but hearing it spoken is enough to make me want to throw up. It is disgusting and vile and I hate it. I hate it. I HATE IT.

I look in the mirror and all I see is me dressed up like a boy. I see something which is me and yet it isn’t and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to change it. Yes, I do find when I am properly expressing myself, I can see past the bits and pieces I think of as being male and embrace this image of my womanhood. When I speak of not being able to change the male image, I mean I cannot change how I am forced to express to the world at large, I can’t just throw all my boy clothes away and start over today as I really am. I feel trapped by a world which insists I conform to it’s comfort at the cost of my own.

The whole world is a stage and I’m forced to wear clown makeup.

The Cost of Writing



Have you ever read a book or other story you found touched you so deeply, you returned to it time and again? For me it is “Wandering Son” a Japanese manga written and illustrated by Takako Shimura.

It is the story of a boy who wants to become a girl… (Gee, I can’t imagine what I find so compelling about this story).

I could write a thousand words about this and still not explain the levels at which I connect with the main character, Shuichi Nitori.

But… This isn’t a review, though I do recommend reading the series which is available in hard back form from places like Amazon and Barnes & Nobel.

No, I mention it because I am rereading it from start to finish and I will make no bones about the fact it is the inspiration for “Rayou”.  I only hope my own attempt will be a tenth as touching.

Why this is so important to me is because I using my own thoughts, emotions, and yes, some experiences in writing “Rayou”. I am doing something I probably shouldn’t, laying my own soul bare to bring the story to life. I did this once before and I am still paying the cost, but for me, for this story, there is no other way I could write about such a personal issue.

The thing is, I have already started the emotional roller coaster and I have hardly started.

In thinking about this story and what I need to write, I find I am often thinking of the many times when I thought about becoming a girl, about the dreams I had, the wishes, the desires, the prayers. Things I pushed from my mind so long ago.

In reading Wandering son, I see these scenes played out. I know the story, like mine, is fiction, but it hits so close to home…

Even today, I think about living full time, about being able to do the things needed to bring that side of myself into the light of day and not being trapped in cyberspace. I know this is better than how I was living before. Living with desires which filled me with excitement and terror. Not just fear, but gut twisting terror, thinking of what I wanted to do, who and what I wanted to be in the deepest reaches of my being. Still, if I could….

What makes this so hard is it pulls me down emotionally, making it so hard to just make it through the day sometimes. Or more to the point, the nights, which is when I am up and about. There are times when all I want to do is cry, when my heart feels so broken it can never be repaired. There are times when I am angry. Angry at a world that refuses to accept me, that mocks me, that teases me. That seems forever out of reach. 

How much I wish real life was like a story in which the characters are free to be themselves, loved and accepted.

Though this isn’t the reality in Wandering Son…. there as in my life, while there are those who understand, those who are accepting, those who are loving, there are those who are hateful, those who are spiteful. There is fear and uncertainty. There is confusion and a struggle for understanding of the thoughts and desires that drive this need to be something other than as you were born.

I want to have that same sense of contradiction, that same sense of reality in my own story. There is no doubt I have the experience to write about them in a convincing manner.

There is the saying about suffering for your art, but I wonder if anyone thought of this?


Blame The Sand Man



I had big plans for last night, but you know what they say about the best laid plans….

I kicked back to watch the Olympics and the next thing I knew it was 4:30AM….

I guess it’s what I get for having gotten only two hours of sleep after working the night before.

So, though I’m not happy about the lost opportunity, I am looking at the silver lining. I am going to take today and go shopping for a new outfit. Not sure what I want just yet, a top with 3/4 sleeves, a nice pair of pants… I have more than enough foot ware to choose from. I do need a new belt though and some cute accessories.. a bracelet, maybe a neckless. I haven’t gotten my ears re-pierced, and I’m not big on clip ons, so I don’t know about earrings.

Anyway, I’m not going to complain… I never complain about having a reason to go shopping!

PS: This was only picture of me sleeping I could find…. LOL!!

The Disclaimer!





Okay, for those who seem to insist on me pointing out that this post, as with the majority of what I have written on this blog, is by and large, my opinion. It is my thoughts and feelings on the issue being discussed. I am not a scientist, I am not a researcher. I am a Trans woman who is sharing a little bit of my heart and mind.

There, everyone on the same page here? Good.


You’d think I was writing for a major publication or something, not some little blog in the middle of no where. From the very start, I never claimed to be some kind of expert, I just do what other people do and start a Google search and follow where it leads.

The really sad thing is that for some reason I feel the need to defend myself in this regard. I should tell certain people to love it or lump it, but I guess I’m insecure enough that something like this can put a burr under my butt.

Of course, I also get the complaint that i should be simply posting about my emotions, about my struggles such as they are. 

I suppose I’m not allowed to muse out loud about things that bother me. Things that either directly or indirectly affect me as a Trans woman. 

You know, I need to be a good little girl and stick to the script.

Then again, I see there is at least one person who takes exception to me talking about being a girl at all, because, you know, I’m not thinking of going under the knife. I’m not thinking of walking out on my family to live life as a woman full time. Because I’m not willing to give up a good job so I can demonstrate that I am really Trans enough.

No, I shouldn’t lay claim to being Trans at all.

I’m just some poor, confused fool who needs to sit down and shut up while the adults are talking.


Think I’m a little annoyed?

Just a tad.

Well, I was told I shouldn’t tell anyone my opinions, they might think I was speaking of written in concrete fact.

No, I should just be some little air head who talks about nothing more than what thoughts are rattling around in this pretty little head of mine.

Well here you go. This is my emotions speaking here. Hope that it’s what you like reading.


I may not be college educated, I may not be someone with a genius IQ,… actually I don’t know what my IQ might be because I have never had it tested and you know what? I DON”T CARE. I am smart enough to make it through life without having any of the warning labels apply to me and that’s enough.

I am smart enough to read articles, opinion pieces, blogs, books and other things and come to my own conclusions. 

I am smart enough to open my eyes and look around me, to watch people, to listen.

I am smart enough to learn from my mistakes.

I am also smart enough to know what is best for me at the moment, and to know that whatever that might be now isn’t what it might be next week, next month, or next year.

Also, I have a right to speak what I think. That doesn’t mean anyone has to listen, and maybe they shouldn’t, but I am willing to bet they are smart enough to decide for themselves.


Sorry for the rant, I just had to get that off my chest.




Do I need to say the past several days have been some that I would just as soon forget?


Yes, I am still talking about this… I can’t help it after looking in the mirror….

If there is one thing I can say is that I am not going to cut my hair this short ever again. Yeah, I did it when I was lower then whale poop, but really, A should have intervened and refused to cut my hair until I had calmed down. I mean, just suggest I should wait until the weekend…

Okay, it wasn’t her fault. It was mine. I was on a downward spiral and doing anything I could think of to put on the brakes, including entertaining some fairly dumb ideas. Note to self, never make life changing decisions when all you really want to do is slit your wrists. They never work out well.

Has anyone else noticed that when your already struggling to get your balance, the universe has a nasty habit of coming along and hitting you with a bus? 

Yup, been there, done that, got the T-shirt…..

It’s interesting what can snap a person out of a low point in their lives. For me it was looking at myself without hair.(Well, very, very short hair). I know, it is a silly, vain thing to focus on, but I was becoming rather happy with my new look. Now I will have to start all over again. Months wasted on a decision that took seconds.

Seeing my old self looking back at me was a shock. I know I have said before that all I could see was the boy in my reflection… I was wrong. Seeing myself now, I can see what a difference there was. It wasn’t just a different hair cut, there is a different look in my eyes, a different set to my face. I could see that the way I was thinking of myself made a difference in how I presented to the world. No, I don’t think it was a hugh difference, nothing most people would have ever noticed…

But I noticed. 

And in noticing, it made me take that needed step back.  To take a deep breath and think about where I was heading, or more to the point, how much I have changed without really being aware of it.

Just thinking about this is hard.

For so long now, I have questioned myself, doubted myself. Wondering if I was really moving forward at all. So many times I been left feeling as if nothing had really changed. Wondering if maybe I had it wrong.

I have spent night after night comparing myself to others who are transitioning, having read their posts, their thoughts and feelings. Seeing what they are doing and I wondered why I wasn’t experiencing something similar, some small thing that I could look at in my own life and say I could relate because I had just had the same thing happen. 

I have worried over how I see myself, my body, my life.

The thing is, many of these people are Transsexual, going through and looking forward to a total physical transformation.

While I now see more and more that I am Bi-Gender. 

I cannot compare myself to them in this regard, all it is going to do is lead to more episodes like this one.

I have to remember, have to remind myself, that my journey is my own. No one can walk my path and I cannot walk theirs.

After The Storm

These past few days have been a nightmare. I am emotionally and physically drained. I have had difficulty eating and sleeping, my nerves are shot.
Yesterday I came closer to a complete shutdown as I have since the first weeks after I came out. I just wanted all of this to go back into a locked room.
I had reached the point where trying to deal with this overwhelmed me.
I decided to put anything TG out of my mind, out of my closet and out of my life…
It didm’t take long for many of the same issues I was dealing with right before my breakdown to come to the surface. I have to say I wasn’t the best company.
The thing is, I realized that I can’t return to living like that, it would cost me everything and everyone I was trying to protect.
Sort of limits my options…
At this point I know I’m not thinking clearly, I need to get some rest and then start fresh.
Being dead on my feet isn’t going to accomplish anything.

Not That Strong

Someone once told me that there were things. I shouldn’t share on my blog. Things that didn’t need to told to the world. I regret that I listened to that person, that there were struggles I kept hidden.
Several times in the beginning, overcome with fear and guilt, I determined that I would put all my TG thoughts and feelings back into a box, that the people I love would be better served if I returned to the way thing were before I came out. I was going to purge my computer, shut down the blog and never mention any of this ever again.
That person and A talked me out of it each time, which in truth seemed to be weekly, helping me to see that I could never really go back. Each time until the last time.
I’m not going to talk about what happened, but I was deeply hurt, and I guess I haven’t gotten over it completely.
The reason I tell you this now is because I find that I am fighting those feelings again.
I have posted several times about not being able to consider HRT, and I have told myself over and over that I can get past this and find a different path.
I am trying so hard to be strong, to use that pillar of strength to help me stay on my feet…
But I’m not that strong, not really. It is all I can do not to crumple to the floor in tears. To not let the reality crush me.
Obviously I didn’t give in to those feelings before. Despite everything, I have continued to write, but now it just seems so pointless. I just don’t know what I am going to do from here.
I can’t go back and I can’t see the way forward.
I guess I will do the only thing I can… I will put my heart into words, bare all to the world and hope I can find a way to keep going.

After all, what else can I do?

New Site…


As I just realized, I made a silly mistake back when I first created this blog.

Simply put, I misspelled the web address, using two R’s instead of two O’s in Morre… er, make that Moore.

This caused WordPress to say that my blog didn’t exist. You could get here through the error page but it was confusing, so I now made a new blog with the same name but the correct web address:

I am going to transfer all my content over to the new site, but it’s going to take a little time.

I will double post until I get everything moved and then I will take this one off line.

Thank you for your understanding and please feel free to tease me for this!

Thank you all,


Oops, forgot to add the link… kiramoorescloset