Ive recently been attempting to understand a change thats happened to me over the past couple years and hope that these thoughts will help me to sort out whats's real, whats's purely emotional, and what I need to do to recover the strength and ferocity in my self esteem. Going back to 2018 I was on my way with transition and had just started hormones as of Feb 1. I had been spending a lot of time in group and finally gave myself permission to love myself again. and I recall that over time there began a profound loneliness growing inside of me also. I really wanted to spend time doing things with my wife but she had started slowing down and was less and less active outdoors. I began going to the beach a lot, swimming when I could. About twice a week I would go body surfing. And it was lonely to have all this energy, and want to be in the world and seen; and not have anyone to share it with. I began to wonder if I would ever find someone who cares 

Transit of blue moon Sisters we, living fiercely Tonight, all are light

The title is only relevant if you account that this post has gone unpublished since June 29th 2020. I was thinking about crushes, and love, and sexuality and self image and all the stuff that packs in alongside all of that. "151 days" describes a brief bit of my history. It happened, it happened exactly as I wrote it (to the limits of memory at least) and before final publication I had the woman from the story read through, comment, and ultimately give her consent for it to be published. The only caveat was she asked me to scrub her name from the original draft. the story didn't end there, obviously. In some ways I think pouring my heart out in such a beautiful way may have changed the outcome. Today, ours is an ongoing and very fluid relationship; where we range from purely platonic daily  conversations on one end of the spectrum; through discussing extremely intimate physical and emotional details of our other relationships; and ultimately having a wonderfully e...

now, bound from the sun the sungrazer, she could see there are so many stars

When as a Sungrazer, The one that brings you the greatest light and joy Also could crush your soul Like a black hole ...and you dance the celestial dance... ----- watching the other sungrazers and trying to smile happy for the sun but secretly hoping they will burn

November 20, 2019 was basically a funeral. It was at a somber ceremony for transgender day of remembrance where I met her in person for the very first time, and I believe we hit it off much like I do with everyone. I do try to put new siblings at ease when I know they're new to our area and need to find some comfort in the face of a friend and ally. It was a very cold evening; and seeing her in a short pastel blue skater dress and spike heels I knew that (besides looking stunningly gorgeous), this amazon woman would be absolutely freezing by the end of the event. I remember wishing that I had brought an extra cardigan in my car for her to wrap, because it was so chilly - and she would not take the one I wore when I offered it. After learning she was from the desert and who she was, I was  especially  excited to meet her though; Because I already knew OF her; with sis having told us already during a group meeting. I remember when I first heard about this particular ...

There's a popular GIF that I see often, showing a blank anguished face awash in the sea being overrun by waves... And the caption is "feels" I've used this one meany times in the few years I have been transitioning; and TBH I thought I was pretty familiar with the concept. I thought I had a handle on the emotions that naturally come with HRT and ultimately accessing the full range of my emotional response capacity. I was wrong. The metaphor is an apt one though, we paddle about in our shore break of emotion, never really knowing the immensity of what could  be in store for us in the form of a rogue wave, or living during the only pandemic in one's lifetime, ... or, I don't know ... perhaps instead its more like this: (Cut to) "There is a place within a long day's travel of my home - called the Cortes Bank. It is fairly regarded as producing the largest waves ever reliably seen, and yes  ACTUALLY SURFED by man, on this planet....

I will not apologize  for falling in love I know it hurts you to be constrained By promises made before  I knew... Before I owned my truth. I am beautiful, and I am human, and I Love Fiercely  And completely And without expectation, for  The gift is it's own reward The ecstacy of pain I feel is both glorious And unbearable.  But also unstoppable and pure,  life itself and without Heartache There might be no euphoria. I will not apologize                                      for loving you

Hi everyone. I'm sorry I haven't written anything in a while. It's probably because in addition to my usual brand of busy, I have also discovered Twitter, and the online community centered around lists like  #girlslikeus, #thisistrans, and #transisbeautiful. Whereas my trans world was centered around home and the places I have visited while coming out, now I am part of a global phenomenon, and I have friends everywhere in addition to the local people I get to see every Tuesday. I have been spending so much time connecting, communicating, and learning from peers all over the world; and forming a bunch of online friendships which feel every bit as valid as in-person friendships do. In fact these online connections feel possibly even more personal than face to face relationships though, because we all talk about things that I know I might hold back on if I had to say it to someones face.

Prose of Polish passed; The chemical stench assaults her nose and makes her dizzy. It burns her eyes - Crimson flows into cotton and drips like the blood of her spirit washed into the wastebasket as it stains her fingers She does not cry chemical tears though -  these tears are real as hope disappears from fingertips Tomorrow she goes to work in the world of non-believers in the world of hate and judgement born of ignorance - But She IS real - is still here but hides to survive to earn her living, to maintain healthcare access It's no small sacrifice to shed symbolic blood to exist stealthily another day concealed - within business casual and false bravado It's a bigger sacrifice of spirit - though the tears have dried on the outside at least Her inner strength is fierce; and real. Allie Rae Hampton 8-17  (rev 1-26-19)

Content warning: frank discussion of medical topics I have an appointment for 2/1/18 to initiate HRT I'm pretty excited; I have been wearing this dog tag most every day for the past several months now. In preparation I wanted to create a list of  what I hope to accomplish. And also a list of known risks I will be undertaking. This is to help me with discussion points for the doctor that I don't want to forget. So here goes... Hopeful outcomes: Breast development enough to at least fill the bras I already own. (Seriously how could this not be #1 on the list? I think anyone who says otherwise is probably not being 100% honest with themselves) With that out of the way, #2 has to be getting in touch with my emotional well being as it relates to my female psyche. I can literally feel internal conflicts between T and my emotions. Most often in the form of tears that wont come; but also in the form of anger that comes too easily. Seriously I am a barely controlled d...

Foreword: >> Originally published November 28, 2017. I started this blog entry on July 18th while sitting at my wife's hospital bedside as she recovered from major surgery. With so much going on it sat in my drafts until now... But I am completing this today because recent conversations with sisters online have motivated me to share. Hopefully our successes can be inspirational and help to smooth the relationship pains that are inevitably a result of change. << Up until now my blog has been mostly singular, because I have been trying to define  myself  and was doing so through this collection of thoughts and images. (I was assuming that to define self, I had to focus exclusively). Indeed one could easily and even likely assumed from my blog entries up to this point that I have been alone in my journey and that is absolutely NOT the case. Laurie is my wife. She is my soulmate, my best friend, my partner in crime, my shopping buddy, and my most...

Its hard to believe that we live in a country that openly goes back on its promise to its young people. I can only hope that via the congressional check to balance the executive decree, this injustice will be avoided before so many promising lives are changed forever. Indeed their trust in their prospective government must certainly be already shaken, and I suppose that's a good thing - as once they do earn the full citizenship status they have been striving for they will be perhaps more skeptical and on guard than we. Perhaps our best future lies not in the distracted youth of our current populace but instead in the proactive youth of our immigrants; for they are more like our forefathers than we in our comfortable privileged lives will ever be.

I spent last weekend at a management conference in the financial district of Los Angeles. I am pretty sure I was the lowest paid attendee there - (I could never spend on my own what it costs to stay there, even on a vacation)  Part of the invite was a comped night at the Intercontinental Hotel Downtown, and because I have a club card they upgraded me to a corner suite on the 41st floor. So here I am having my dinner at 9pm and pondering a scandalous thought: What if Allie went to the conference instead? I had never met anyone there before and also had not done business with any of them either. Tempting, it was. But I felt like the distraction of 'coming out' to all these strangers, although personally satisfying, would likely be unfair to them and would distract us all from why I was there in the first place.  So I presented male as expected for the event sessions, and actually learned a few things while I was there. Only the wonderful sweet heart of a housekeeper knew ...

I have pretty fierce shadows on my face.  So naturally when I get all fixed up to go out I so the shave in both directions thing, and moisturize, then orange corrector and then a very light bit of foundation over that. Usually what's just left in the brush if I have done full makeup anytime recently.   I think I did pretty good in this image here: I try not to present in noticeably feminine outfits unless I have dealt with my shadows. So lately I think it's revived my follicles and I am only good for about 6 hours and that's a bummer.  I used to stay somewhat clean for up to 2 days. Now, bleh. Guess I will have to laser it off sometime soon.  It will end up paying for itself in blade savings after a few years anyway, am I right? OH! I almost forgot about the question. So..., I find myself planning whether I shave or not at any given time, around what I expect from the day; say if I am going to work and expected to be masculine, I will probably...

So for about a week  have been sporting this temporary body art on my right forearm: and I have been exuberant that I am literally wearing the words of my heart on my sleeve so to speak. I was proud to show it off at Ventura PRIDE, and around the hotel, and everywhere else I went. I got a few comments on it and a few even said they liked it enough to get one themselves. I believe the sentiment, I really do; and I have felt like I am living up to it - or was, until today. So at work, around my homo-and-transphobic, sexist, bigoted, and otherwise abusive boss, I have covered it for the past 3 days with long sleeves (which felt like a cop-out in the first place as I talk about being brave and bold and all). But today I washed my hands and forgot to put my sleeves back down before going back into the office. "That's a mighty interesting choice of words for your tat, there" he said. I was of course shocked by my error and the inquisitive statement. I had to think f...

The chemical stench assaults her nose and makes her head dizzy. It burns her eyes - The crimson flows into the cotton and drips like the blood of her spirit into the wastebasket; it stains her fingers with each wipe. She does not cry chemical tears though, these tears are real; as one color of her youthful spirit's hopeful abandon disappears from these fingertips. Tomorrow she goes to work in the world of non-believers; in the world of hate and judgement born of ignorance. But Allie IS real - she is still here but must hide to survive, to earn her living, to maintain her medical access. It's no small sacrifice to shed this appropriately symbolic 'blood' off her fingernails to exist stealthily another day, concealed within business casual and false bravado. It's a bigger sacrifice of spirit though. The tears have dried on the outside at least; Her inner strength is fierce, and real.

So a short time ago I went to my first PRIDE festival and had a great time. It was so wonderful to be out, among friends, and at an event that celebrates (among a multitude of other goodness) the spirit of who I have been learning to be proud of. Then as a matter of fortunate timing and newly acquired brevity on my part, I ventured to my second PRIDE festival in my own hometown, and again it was amazing. I met some people, hung out with friends, and secretly hoped I was outing myself to at least one coworker and possibly meeting that disclosure at work head on if it was to be my fate. Now, almost on a lark I am here preparing to attend Ventura PRIDE 2017 in my favorite R+R destination. I am so excited. I plan to "own it" today; rocking a short denim skirt and beautiful lace top, while stomping around in my most absolutely favorite suede knee boots. I cant wait to meet who I will meet, dance (if I am able lol) and basically let my true self shine like the freakin...

I awoke from a tormented dream this morning; In the dream I was taking a trip a long way from home and rushed through packing my bags. Then suddenly at the airport I realized that I hadn't packed any underwear. At first I was really upset upon realizing that I would have none of my favorite underthings and then I assuaged my distress with the realization that I could simply go shopping once I was at the destination and who doesn't love to go shopping, right? I still felt the aftereffects upon waking though, sort of a sense of uneasiness as is often the case after a nightmare. On reflection I don't think this dream was actually about clothing at all: I've had this question rattling around in my head lately - "What's the difference between simply being a crossdresser and being transgender?" I think I have been revisiting this question in my head because I intend to go for HRT sometime soon and I expect it will require some sort of clinical affirmation ...

I've been enjoying a somewhat break from the cyclical anxiety that I go through, most likely because work stress has almost been absent from my life for the past few weeks. I woke up this morning to the exception; an intense feeling of dread and thoughts racing in my head, again mostly centered around what I expect (or not knowing what to expect) upon my return to work after FMLA. I couldn't get out of bed for about an hour which is unusual for me; (That hasn't happened for a very very long time). I have an "as needed" prescription I could take but it tends to make me drowsy later in the day and I feel like there's just too much to get done, which is also fueling the growing sense of panic. Instead I am employing my strategy of doing the things I can control, chores, self care, (and blogging) to achieve little victories that make me feel better. With each baby step while the morning progresses, The anxiety and breathless feeling gets a little better. Her...