Transition Update – Atlanta Trip

downloadYesterday was my every-fourth-month appointment with my doctor. Eight hours round trip not counting time spent in Atlanta. I’m nothing if not determined and dedicated! But…

I’ve been expressing discouragement to my SL family. A year and nine months into my transition and except for little boobies (which i really enjoy, by the way!)  there is no outward change. I know I’m not going to become Sophia Loren (83 yo)… hell, i’d be satisfied with any more feminine than Ernest Borgnine in drag! But nothing going on.

I expressed this two ways yesterday. One, i wore boy clothes there. Jeans, button up shirt and boat shoes. This is the first time my doctor has seen me this way. And two, I flat out told him that i was coming to the conclusion and adjusting to the fact there would be no changes. That i had waited too long to begin this. Decades too long.

He took a look at my lab results and there was a disturbing reading. My testosterone is pretty much eliminated. I don’t think i ever had much to begin with. But my estrogen level was at 38. Last visit was over 100. No new medication being taken, nothing that should effect my E level. So he had me take another blood test on the way out to doublecheck. Then he said if it came out the same he would up my estradiol pills to 8 mg a day, up from 6 mg, OR put me on patches or give shots. I assume the patches or shots will put more into my body. Double up that shit!

Regardless. My transition is not going well, my friends. I look at transition pictures on Reddit and follow many transgender women on Tumblr and i just want to hang myself! (metaphorically speaking, y’all) They are fantastic. I’ve seen bearded musclebound men turn into an attractive woman quickly. And i think to myself ‘what the fuck?’ Sigh

I”m whining. I know. I’m usually more up. I’ve told my family that i started this transition late in life because i didn’t want to die as an old man. I’m afraid..

Eh. Just post-visit depression, i guess. This is my promised update on my transition.

On a happier note, I’ve finished my first book in a year and a half! My writing has been trans erotic romances or futa erotic romances (59 ‘books’ on Amazon). I have written my first lesbian erotic romances. Had to decide whether to use a pen name on this. Not sure of a fan picking up this book based on my name (yes, i actually have fans that snag my books before they get advertised) would be disturbed by the genre change. I write as Isabella Belucci. Was considering… thanks Trixssy for such a delightful suggestion. Not sure “Monica Mufflebum” will fit the cover pic. LOL.

Till my next post, my darlings… hugs and kisses

Second Life Family

1262194872_katrina-kaif-2I joined Second Life because i live an isolated, lonely life. On purpose. It’s a safety thing for me. My own family had deserted me. My very first acts on landing in this strange new world was (1) look up my friends Daniel and Tish Wolfsong’s bar (they are now my SL brother and sister); get from them suggestions for transgender sims; and start searching for anything transgender related. A little narrow-casting in my wants at this point, huh. Which led me to a now-defunct sim TransTastic where, for the first time, I met others like me. Same issues. Same problems. But others to talk about it and share my life. At last! Someone who also had dysphoria. It was wonderful.

As often happens in Second Life, that sim folded. But before it did, i had discovered a new life that would serve me well… D/s — dominant/submissive — BDSM. Dancing at TransTastic i met an attractive girl who talked with me. That alone was an exhilarating experience for me haha. Then she revealed she was a sub with a mistress i had yet to meet. We danced over a period of days while i thoroughly researched the subject and found myself interested. She invited me to their home to meet the domme. Two days later i was submitted, collared and learning the myriad mistakes one can make LOL. Yikes.

A family. A domme and two subs… but in my mind, a mother and two sisters.

And that’s how it’s been ever since. I see this lifestyle i’ve chosen as being a mother with a growing family. That’s wrong, as i’ll mention later, but for the longest time that is what i felt.  Over time I gather others to me. I provided them love, a place to live, safety, caring, encouragement.

I have learned, thanks to my mentor Chloe, that i am not a mother. I am their domme. Big difference which i won’t go into here. I have become stronger from her guidance, and from the encouragement of the girls themselves, particularly my SL wife Trixssy.  The Hand of the Queen! They want me strong and decisive. I am.

Today i pruned from my family tree. An errant daughter (continuing the metaphor) who failed to show up for weeks at a time. Patience growing to impatience, excuses lacking, time to cut the duckling loose to learn to fly on her own.

We’re still a family. We talk, we encourage, we occasionally fight LOL, but in the end, we’re the Bella family. Proud and united.

I have a family.

At last.

Musings on Two Events

imagesAt my latest appointment with my transition doctor my pleas were heard. Since my second visit I’ve asked him to increase my dosage. I’m old and in a hurry LOL. Of course, I asked in a joking manner… I don’t tell highly educated doctors what to do. He’d look at my labs and say ‘no, you are where I want you to be.’  Well I’ll be damned if he looked over all my lab results this time, nodded gently and said ‘your testosterone is excellent, but I think we can up your estrogen.’ I squealed a little bit, embarrassingly so. He raised my dosage by 50%! Now we’re getting somewhere.

Had a horrible experience recently. If you’ve read my blog you know I am involved with various ministries in the Catholic church, and have had some minor and major battles with priests, their homilies and the Church’s stance. At the church I am currently a member I happen to be the head of the bereavement committee. When a parishioner dies I lead the process from notification to creating the mass booklet to the funeral mass itself. I’m not done until dirt is being thrown on the grave.

So on Tuesday i saw through a funeral mass. As usual, due to too much practice, everything went perfectly. I take pride in making things run smoothly… this is a process to honor a deceased’s life and is important to the family to remember their last pubic appearance of their loved one.

At the after-mass luncheon the family and friends gather to share a meal and memories. We on the committee take part in the meal. So I’m sitting at a table with my co-members shoveling down some home cooking not my own (always a plus) when one of the family members approaches us. This is a normal event. The family likes to thank us for our efforts at this difficult time.

“I just wanted you to know… i find you a disgrace.  I’m disgusted you had anything to do with my mother’s funeral. I hope you’re happy.”

Stunned? Yeah. Speechless? Absolutely. Angry? No. Only angry I don’t pass well enough to have no such scene. I’m rarely spoken to quite so directly, though. When my ex-priest spent four homilies decrying the destruction of the family by those ‘men in dresses’ I simply left that church and moved to this one. I’m not a confrontational person.

Those two events intertwine. Hopefully my transition will improve enough that someone may say to themselves ‘something odd about that ugly old woman’ but feel no need to ask me why.  Then I can go about my life quietly without incident. I have no desire to do anything other than live my life quietly and in peace.

 

Depression

AdobeStock_50031686-650x433Yes, once again. Hormone Replacement Therapy has its joys and its drawbacks. I can only explain my occasional depression by the hormones, as otherwise I should be ecstatic every day. I’m happily married to the love of my life. I love her in real life too. I have friends who care for me and invite me to sail, to attend fun theme parties. I live in a beautiful home and have exciting adventures in Second Life that I would never attempt in Real.

Yet here I am. Listening to live music at Beau Belle Coffee Shop and crying uncontrollably. Well, I was. I’m OK now or I wouldn’t be able to type haha. <sigh>

There are days like this I think I’ll just chuck the whole thing. Pour my drugs down the toilet and flush them away just like I’ve flushed away my life in this vain attempt to be something apparently God didn’t want for me and I feel will never attain. Burn my dresses, toss my wigs in the trash and lock myself away in a small cabin in the Appalachians or something. (Notice I didn’t mention my heels. A girl’s gotta have something.) I wonder if they’ll deliver pizza up there? My tastes are simple.

Ever have days like this? Where nothing is worth it?

Fuck.

I’ll be better tomorrow.

An Author’s Decision

22ff3f30cac050b53e3ab321989caafaI’ve been writing a while now. I started off my publishing career with transgender erotic romances. I published many books/series in that genre. I enjoy the romance of it, taking events from my life and romanticizing them making sure the endings are always happy in the sweetest sense.

Then on a whim, and on a kind of challenge from a writing mentor, I switched to the futa genre. Lots of fun developing an entire mythos for a non-existent species. All of the characters and their sex scenes were as outrageous as I could imagine… and I can imagine a lot LOL.

Sales were radically different. The market for transgender romance is small. I suppose mostly the trans-curious. Fair enough. While I found them emotionally satisfying I was only able to reach my self-assigned goal: To sell enough books that I can pay for a nice restaurant meal once a month… with wine. Heehee not exactly a lofty goal, but I’m not trying to pay my bills with writing. Futa sales were easily twice, usually three, sometimes four times. I earned enough for the goal each week. Restaurant food! No cooking. No cleaning.

Sadly, though, I’ve become disenchanted with futas. Despite being able to let my mind soar into unchartered ideas I missed the more realistic interaction between my transgender characters. While I used futas and their problems as a surrogate for transgender people it just isn’t the same.

So, bottom line: I’m returning to the writing of transgender romantic erotica. I still get to be one nasty piece of work LOL, but hopefully my characters will be someone you may recognize, or want to know and find out what happens next. Sales will suck… don’t care. I will be pleasing myself.

This is not to say I’m going to abandon vampires or succubi… those are still perking in my mind. My focus will be at a different angle. Happy writing/reading!

Nightmare Solved

black-and-white-crying-girl-sad-Favim.com-1347828A while back I posted explaining to the person I love the reason for my — shall we put it mildly and call it distrust — of men. Not A Pretty Story. (Trust me… don’t read it.) I had the pleasure last night of discussing my first books (T-Girl in the Office) with a friend who had been reading this 9-book series. As noted before this is a romanticized version of my life. So she asked if one of the events was true. The scene of my near-castration at the hands of a gang of assholes. Sadly it was true. We talked about it for a while and I explained it had finally been figured out that I suffer from what I consider a mild form of PTSD. I’ll leave that diagnosis to those military types who have suffered real, actual trauma, not my piddling little panic. Nevertheless, it affected me and my life ever since. It has defined me. The result was a recurring nightmare. I’d wake up screaming at the top of my lungs. My dog doesn’t even wake up any more hahahaha.

In talking about this with her it slowly dawned on me: I have not had the nightmare in… I can’t recall the last time! I cannot recall!!! And I don’t want to think about it other than to note its demise. I can attribute this to one person and one person only. My love. I will call her Kelly here. My Second Life wife. Through her love and her love alone, her caring nature, calming demeanor and the fact that I know had I been with her it never would have happened. She would move heaven and earth to prevent it. I now realize that not all men are assholes who want to hurt me for no reason other than that I am different. Kelly would stand between me and any attack… physical or verbal. There is not a doubt in my mind. My darling, I could not love you more. Thank you for being in my life, SL and RL.

 

 

You’re Kidding Me

7577473-woman-with-surprised-look-in-front-of-computer-stock-photo-shockedColor me surprised. My last book, Desperate Hot Futa Wife has been available for purchase 8 days now… 9 by the time you read this post. Usually, my sales are good for the first weekend and then trail off. Which is OK because I usually have a new one to publish. But this has me flummoxed:

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I have a ranking of #23 for Erotica/Lesbian and #27 in Erotica/Transgender. I can’t tell you how overjoyed that makes me.Thanks to you all. Especially you, Ladydawn, for the lovely review. And no, you don’t get a cut of the profits. LOL