Tag Archive | Pictures

Found out


That was a complete disaster. About a week ago, my sister ran across the picture on this post on Instagram. Not my Stefani Instagram, but my Joe account. Naturally, she was shocked by it. My brother was the one who text me and told me I needed to talk to her, which I tried.

I sent her a text seeing if she wanted to talk about it. She didn’t. We exchanged a few texts but it was clear she didn’t want to talk, and frankly she’s so pig-headed that I decided to let it go for the time being, and let my brother know what was going on.

It wasn’t until last night that I wondered why I wasn’t seeing anything of hers on Facebook. I searched for her and discovered she had unfriended me. She also blocked me on Instagram. I couldn’t believe it!

I’ve yet to confront her. I see no point in antagonizing her. She has always been a spoiled, self-centered woman, wrapping herself in an oh-so-Christian attire. Half her posts are about going to this mass or retreats. It’s easy to see why I have an issue with going to church. Nothing but judgment from those who call themselves religious!

I talked to my cousin a bit, and she’s upset. My brother couldn’t believe it either. Haven’t talked to my parents about it yet, but I will eventually. I’m not so irritated. I was telling everyone that I was okay, not really bothered, but I was close to having an anxiety attack over it. I had to concentrate on keeping calm last night until it passed.

I don’t know what to do about it, if anything. Maybe it will pass, but like I said, she’s extremely pig-headed, and I have no intention of apologizing for being who I am. If she doesn’t like it, I don’t need her in my life. She doesn’t contribute a damn thing to my existence. Blood may be blood, but my friends have shown themselves to be my biggest supporters.

Had I worked up the courage to tell her first, maybe she wouldn’t have reacted this way, but I kind of doubt it. She was the one I felt would give me the most trouble about it, having been the only sister with five brothers. I want to just let it go, but I’m honestly fucking angry at her. Truly angry.

And now, I can’t help but wonder if I’ll lose any other siblings to this.


Where’s my phone?

20161223_182901My phone was stolen last Saturday. Gone, nowhere to be seen. There’s a moment of intense panic and dread when that happens. Partly it’s because of the cost of the damn device. Phones aren’t cheap, and I was actually leasing the phone from Sprint for a small monthly fee. In April, my lease would have been up, and I could have turned it in and gotten an upgrade. That was the plan. Alas, it was not meant to be.

So set aside that I had to pay $250 to buy the phone outright, and then an extra $90 to activate a new phone on a new lease, there’s the real issue. That was my phone! It was my property – though we all know it really wasn’t – and then there’s the reality of what I had on that phone. My music, books, and more importantly, my pictures.


I made a habit of moving my pictures off the phone. It didn’t have enough memory to hold everything, so I moved it to my computer, but I still have photos I needed to move and then delete. Also, there were photos of me as Stefani. There were no risque pictures on my phone. The issue is that there are photos of my true self. Most people don’t know my true self. I’m afraid of being outed. Afraid but not as terrified as I once was.

So now I have a new phone, which is nice, but I was trying to save up a little bit of money for my upcoming trip to Georgia. I was hoping to buy a few outfits, maybe some shoes or some makeup. I wanted to look my best for my trip. Now I’ll be struggling just to afford to go. Damn my luck!

But my trip is still a go. My friend, who was planning on making the trip without me, is paying for all the gas, so it’s not like I’ll go broke on the trip. I just wanted to save some spending money. Also I’ll be helping with gas, regardless of what she says.

I’m sure I’ll post plenty of pictures during my trip on my Instagram and on Facebook. I know I’ll have a blast in Georgia, and a blast in New Orleans. My vacation starts on the 16th of February. I can’t wait.


2016-07-08I haven’t taken as many pictures of myself as I used to. Isn’t that odd? Maybe it isn’t. My friend thought I was being a little conceited every time I got dressed up, and I would take several pictures of myself, admiring the transformation from drab to glam. It was intoxicating! I wanted to document this change to prove to myself that I really did look that good.

Okay, that’s coming out a little conceited.

I don’t think I’m alone. On all the blogs I follows, forums I visit, social media sites where others like me post, I see countless examples of other crossdressers posting pictures of themselves, seeking validation that maybe they kind of pass. I know I’m guilty of that. I’m also guilty of enjoying the compliments I receive.

Lately, however, I have not taken as many pictures. I click a couple, but I don’t sit and pose, trying to find the best picture. I don’t dress to validate myself. I dress because it feels right. I dress to be me, and that’s enough.

So there aren’t as many pictures of me to post. I don’t feel the need to document every time I put on a dress. I’m able to enjoy my time now, sit back, and glory in my femininity. It’s nice. I still enjoy being complimented, so I suppose I’m not going to stop taking pictures all together. I mean, years from now, I’m going to want to see what I looked like. I owe it to myself, after all. I’m just a little more discerning.


20151017_202814The one thing that still boggles my mind is the persistence and the abject perversity of the male gender, and as I live as a man most of the time, I find this repellent. I don’t know how women deal with it on a daily basis! If I’ve ever crossed that line from cordial to creepy, I apologize. I still struggle at times with how to deal with it. My male ego never has had to put up with this level of sliminess, and I know I’ve barely grazed the crazy.

I guess I should tell the story. I have a Flickr account where I post all my photos. Most are in good taste, but there are a few that cross the line a bit. I don’t post nudes or anything too risque, but I do try to look good and hopefully sexy, and by the comments I get, I do. Some of the comments are innocent enough, and some are a little distasteful. I can deal. I appreciate the validation and it’s a tremendous boost to the ego.

But there was one guy that seemed determined to push the envelope. He made it a practice to like most of my pictures, but it was his comments that began to creep me out. At first it was the innocent “beautiful” but that quickly devolved to sexual innuendos and blatant harassment. The final straw, at least for him, was when he started commenting what he wanted me to wear in bed with him.

I may have thanked him a couple of times in the beginning, but I never truly engaged him in actual conversation. Something about the way he commented prevented me from it. Sometimes people give off vibes, even from across the virtual wasteland of the internet. He definitely gave off creeper vibes. He felt stalkerish. I blocked him.

I know it’s to be expected, but I suppose I was ill-prepared for it. As a man, I’m invisible, I’m rarely bothered by anyone, and no one has ever complimented me on my looks, other than older, matronly types. Young single women can’t be bothered with a weirdo like me, and they don’t know about Stefani! Imagine the amount of rejection I’d get then!

But as Stefani I’m not ignored. I post a picture and it’s liked by dozens, if not hundreds of people, mostly on Facebook. I’m bombarded with friend requests, most that I delete if it’s from a man, and I get more than my fair share of messages. I sometimes respond, but again I ignore most if they come from men. I try to reply to other transgender and ciswomen, but I’m such a horrible conversationalist. I should try harder.

I know the ultimate solution is to delete everything and pretend I don’t exist. That’s not a viable option. I enjoy having an outlet where I can express my feminine side. I enjoy the attention, for the most part, and I deal with the negative aspects a best I can. I have to say that I do admire those who have transitioned are have begun to transition. I don’t know how you deal, but you have my respect. For you women who have dealt with it your whole life, I’ve grown to have a new found respect for you, too, and I haven’t even lived the worst of it, yet!