I remember when I was a kid not even at the age of a teenager, I knew what – or better who - I wanted to be. I had seen Trans-People before but it was when I had seen those pictures of lovely women with perfect bodies, beautiful hair and shimmering skin that had that “little extra”. The “extra” was of course nothing that turned me on, but proof that these girls were the same like I was.
Back then I – like all other people who are not trans* - felt an almost mystical admiration for these women.
Today, I am one of them and I experience a lot of admiration myself now but still, I can not completely describe that mystic feeling. Actually, even today I have that admiration when I meet another beautiful sister. For writing this post; I have reflected a lot on that admiring feeling and tried to clasp its substance.
I have come to the finding that it must be not only the result – a sexy girl, with a sometimes elfish smile – but the road she had to pursue to get where she is now. Conformably to my theory, I have recognized that when I was younger and a little more obviously in the progress of becoming, many times I had been asked, almost exclusively by men, about my way and how I’m getting along.
Girls, in contrast, marvel at us much more discreet and will only ask us once in a while for advice on beauty issues or admire our skin, hair etc.
I believe that all of them are aware that we are also pretty strong personalities since we all must have been through the school of hard knocks (and we sure have been there) and still have survived with a (more or less;-) sane mind and even came to pleasant looks and agreeable lives.
Just last weekend a guy, who I’d just meet a couple of minutes ago for the first time, asked me to tell him “my story”. Impudent and overconfident in my eyes since I am herewith telling you that no Ladyboy or Transsexual of our kind will squander the story of their way just like that as if it was an everyday anecdote.
It is something we reveal only a bit at a time. Even among us we only talk about it on rare occasions and very confidently.
This is not because we are ashamed of it, but because many simply could not understand. I have heard all kinds of stories so far: many very sad and almost heartbreaking. Others were rather adventurous and even exhilarant. While some of these roads were bumpy and hardly passable others were sloping highways, rollercoasters and slalom race tracks. Some were as long as to the moon and back, some even too short to be called a fair road.
Astonishingly, the winners of these races are quite similar compared to how different their ways had been and it sure had not been easy for none of us.
In retrospect, I consider the trip down that road even as an advantage that made us mature at an age when we were still teens and gave us experience of life – be it good or bad – which many people have to life a whole life for to obtain.
Maybe we don’t tell you our stories, but be sure they are the sources where our elfish smiles come from.
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