ROAD TO LIBERATION

“Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve great things.”-JFK

Not that I had no freedom. Not that it was a secret. It wasn’t even talked about in family dinners.  I’m openly gay but the transition from being a gay boy to being a full-pledged tranny (at least as I thought) was rough, so to speak. At first, there was hesitation on my part. I knew that some people who matter to me expected much from me. And I didn’t want to fail them. Plus, the thought of public embarrassment scared me. I had no courage to show the world who I really am.

LATE BLOOMER

And how would that make me feel if I have three ladyboy cousins (and first cousins at that!haha). This may sound bizarre to people but yes, I just happen to have three LB cousins on my maternal side of the family. And If I have other gay relatives on the other side, none that I know of, at least as of this writing (LOL!).

Of the four, I may have been the late bloomer, in the sense that I discovered my sense of inner joy and acceptance later in life (after graduating from College). My cousins are a bit younger than I am, but they all had showed the world their really pink colours as young as twelve, cross-dressing flamboyantly and blithely! Indeed, they were overtly gay during their early puberty. I had to admire their courage and their guts to have had shown who they really were in their tender years. I had to mention them in my piece because they have been an integral part of my life as a trans. Well, who else do you run to when the whole world turn their back on you, no one but your family. They may be younger and daring than I did, but all of them possess distinct qualities such as audacity in their youth, etc. Today, they are identified as Ivanova, Jasmine and Martina.

CROSS-DRESSING

Thinking back, I remember the time when we would all meet up in the city for a fab night out. We would be with our usual paraphernalia: wigs, dresses and heels. The only difference is that I had to carry my stuff in my school backpack and dress at the comfort room of any bar we have decided to hang out. That time, I just had no guts to get out of the house dressed like a girl. Not that my father would kill me, but I just had so much respect in their thoughts, in their peace, in their privacy. And to bother them was the least of my concerns.  Yes, we had become cross-dressers at one point in our lives, but even in our wigs, we would feel like we were girls trapped in young boys’ agile bodies. (Wikipedia:  Cross-dressing is the wearing of clothing and other accoutrement commonly associated with a gender within a particular society that is seen as different as the one usually presented by the dresser)  For some people, they automatically connect cross-dressing behaviour to transgender identity or sexual fetishist, and homosexual behaviour. And for us, it was definitely the latter that described us. It was more of a self- expression and liberation! By having done so, we wanted society to understand that we were cross-dressing not because of anything else, but because we were happy doing it so. It was an expression of our sexuality and who we wanted to become.

GENDER IDENTITY ISSUE

Personally, after my College graduation I gave my self a hard thought. I finally decided to grow my crowning glory, plucked my eyebrows, started wearing feminine clothing and turned to hormones. I had difficulty finding my self a professional job because of my grown long hair. And the pressure to start a career in line with my degree was tremendous. I was expected to work my profession but then there were moments of repression and even rebellion at some point! It was nothing against my family but it was against the world, I guess.  There was nothing to compromise I thought. Just when I finally decided to be who I am, also came  moments that I had to choose between career and inner happiness. It was a struggle to say the least, I had to deal with personal gender identity issues. I learned to be my tranny self which I had began to embrace yet I also had to deal with creating a life and a career for my self. After a few tries, with luck on my side, I saw my self working for a government bureau. It seemed ironic, but I was just relieved to compromise my hair, to tidily tie them up and to discreetly wear the employer’s attire during office hours. Gladly I did, and the rest of the transition to being more feminine is history.

A WORK IN PROGRESS

During this phase, I had to take hormones like a part of my diet. The drive of wanting to be as feminine as possible was inspiring. I had undergone some physical enhancements and took constant mixture of supplements to boost smoother skin, etc, etc. Until now, I can say that the work is not over yet. It's a work in progress. I had set plans for my self. There are just some procedures that I am anxious to undergo, but sooner or later, I will. Nevertheless, I have embraced a pre-op trans lifestyle!

And still I am firm that I may not be the prettiest or the smartest, yet I am perfectly me in more ways than one!!!

Still, no amount of procedure will change the way I look at my sef. I have been a warrior of life and will always be. Despite of everything, I’m still the todd that peed on my diaper, and the little infant my mama and daddy took care of. I’m still the child that they knew and raised. I’m still me, if I would change, it’s for the better. What I’m learning now is to care less, or even care not. I'm Just glad to be me, to continuously aspire to be an improved version of me, and to show the world a  better and happier me! And maybe... a fierce and fearless me!

(The following are links to understand some issues on gender identity):

http://www.twenty10.org.au/resources/gender

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transgender

http://www.tsroadmap.com/mental/categories.html 

A Blast From The Past

Never mind searching for who you are.  Search for the person you aspire to be.  ~Robert Brault

I want my blog to be as personal as possible, in the sense that I would like my readers to have a connection with me somehow. Like, if you read my piece, it’s as if you’ve known me for years. So before I go into writing stuff about love, sex or relationships, I would like to take you into my past. Yes, my childhood. Oh did I bore you now?

You won’t read about a battered child,  a sexually abused  kid  or the account of a former Sakristan or an altar boy. My story is not as revealing as these. My childhood is almost pretty normal, except that I have a different and more personal view of how it was. Don’t you worry,  I’ll do my best to make this as interesting as possible. Let me take you with me in this journey to my past. 

As a child, I had a hard time identifying my "self". It wasn’t simple to have had that sense of belongingness in the vast world we reside. But I knew I was different because I had difficulty blending  with other kids especially boys my age. They always  had a say when I hang out with them. I heard name-callings like they never ended and saw make-faces like they were masked. Yet I knew that I should be just like any kid, without pretenses and as normal as possible. 

I  had two brothers (my other bro’s in eternal peace). And I am the first of the brood.  In my mind, never did I hear a thought from mama and daddy (that’s how I call my parents) about my being different from the boys. Maybe it wasn’t something that they would like to talk about with me. Maybe because I was good at what I was doing, I mean my education. Yes, I excelled in school and that’s one thing I was proud about. I didn’t mess up school or in any way gave them trouble when it comes to this aspect of my life. That alone, may have had given them a reason to just let me be their son, who eventually became a daughter in their eyes! (~wink~)

To make the story short, my childhood may well be like  any other gayboy’s coming - of - age experiences albeit different in some ways. I didn’t even  had any idea how it all started. Early years in grade school, I just found my self to be  effeminate and like one of the girls. I played with girls and  learned to like boys. 

Growing up, I knew what I was but didn’t know exactly how I would call my "self". I just learned that I was separative through the other kids’ mockings. They would call me “bakla” (gay) and later on became a source of  annoyance and pain. Now it doesn’t matter anymore, but back then it was like a  handful of stones thrown hard at me. It always felt like being entombed or stoned to death. The boys and other kids made fun of me but it didn’t hinder me to be  me. I continued to be the person that I was and  no one could stop me from being the way I was.  I understood that there wasn’t anything to change but to grow.  I just excelled in school and kicked other kids’ asses.

Now, I find it funny to hear stories of fathers drowning their gayboys  in a barrel full of water just to affirm their kids’ boyhood. Lucky me, I didn’t go through that phase. Yes I was gay, but never as flamboyant as other gayboys around. I was just being me, the boy with the girly moves, the girly likes, and the girly thoughts. I even thought I was a girl at some point, and I would be back to reality everytime I’d hear them call me names again. 

That’s just it, I was the boy who wanted dolls instead of guns. Girls for friends and boys for kisses. Danced to every Madonna beat and would scream over  the Hansons or the Moffats or the BackstreetBoys. Miss Universes, Worlds and Internationals were  my  World Cup. Pageant queens were my icons  in beauty, poise, and projection. I admired them for their packaging and I was just the boy who hated his haircut and would dream of having those curly long locks. 

I was the boy who enjoyed doing house chores  than playing basketball or pingpong with the kids. I was the boy who read Vogue instead of Playboy. I was the boy who would choose a tiarra over a beret,  my mama’s nighties  over a Spiderman costume.  I had boys for crushes and men for fantasies. Yes, my innocence back then was a bit tainted,  I would masturbate with thoughts of muscled men in mind. Damn, how else would you call a kid like that?(~laughs~) 

Nevertheless, I was a discreet gayboy up to my  Secondary school. I was a virgin who would swoon over the campus hearthrob and watched other boys in basketball games. I didn’t know what to think about back then but I knew what I liked and wanted. I just didn’t know how to do it. Get what I mean? I just didn’t know how to verbalize and express my feelings to someone in  a manner that’s not offending.  Thinking of it now, I laugh at the thought  of how I managed to lived a life of celibacy for a long while when in fact other kids nowadays lose their virginity at earlier ages. But no regrets, I just lived my life the way I was supposed to live it. My parents may have raised me well. And the image I made to myself helped a bit. I just had to be prim and proper and all would be well.

Needless to say, I lost my virginity a few days before I turned 18, during my collegiate years. It was a pact I made to my self, that before I would evolve into manhood-gayness, I would lose my behind’s virginity(~laughs~) and so I did! It wasn’t a wonderful experience the first time, but nevertheless it just made  me more curious and hungrier for more answers  as to what gayness was all about. And this is another story.

INTRODUCTION

This is my way of officially launching my tranny self in the world of  cyberspace blogging. Just like the countless, I guess I was bitten by the web bug. After much thought, I finally decided to use my pen, I mean my stick (you can think  about whatever you want) to write about anything associated with me or life in general.  

 I can use the whole space to inscribe about my “transexuality” and the like, but don’t get me wrong I can also write about people, experiences, events, travels, cultures, relationships. I may even write about the weather (lol!). I guess what I’m trying to say is that there is more to life than just being a trans, a ts, a shemale, ladyboy, t-girl, trans-woman, etc, etc. You can name me names, and nothing hurts anymore. For men who seem to know us, what you see is the exterior or the superficial, what you don’t see is the making of it all. In movies, you get to watch the post production stuff, the edited version you see onscreen, what you don’t see is the pre-production or the making of the film. The same is true with a persona, which is used to label one’s image.  To speak of myself, you may see me as a caricature or just a character in your fantasy… 

...there I am alive

there I am real

there I am perfect

there I am everything

there I am endless

there I am the beginning and the end- the alpha and the omega!

It’s like magic, but PUFF! I may not be all that you see…

Who am I to judge you solely based on your likes, preferences or fantasies . And how am I to change the way you see me. Or I may not be able to.

But I hope this may help. Just think of us or me as part of the humanity. Well created by the almighty not to blend in with the rest but to make a mark in the world. We are also people with mind-sets, stance, beliefs, interests, preferences, rights, and privileges.

Well for all you know, I also eat and take a sh!t, pray and be bad, love and get hurt, laugh and cry, smile and pout (amazing if you do both, lol), have my share of triumphs and struggles too. Yes, I react to the stimuli and when I do, I just do it big time!

I may not speak in behalf of every trans in the world, but I can speak for my self when I say that I am but human, imperfect, nothing, mortal, vulnerable but I more than make up for all these with my ability to be humane, see things perfect more than the way they are, make something out of nothing, make the most of my finite time, and be strong amidst the limitations and restrictions of what I can do and be.

I am Kristina Casanova, the ts! Behind this image is but a person who’s ready to mingle, dingle, jingle and be open to those who accept, understand, and recognize my being. Regards to all!