Well, dear reader, it seems another announcement is to be made. After the last one M had a call from the doctor and it seems that he has been given the definite go ahead for his testosterone treatment. Once again I am filled with excitement. I am deeply fascinated by medicine and the effects drugs have on people - just last night I was googling metronidazole - and am keen to see how this will effect him. I cannot wait to see how his bodily hair will come in (if it does) and how his face will change, and his voice will drop. I think he's nervous about this, as he is concerned that I will reject him as he grows in to his masculinity. I can't say that I won't, all I can do is reassure him of how I feel now. I love him. Simple. I don't think that that will change. I don't think that it can. To put it simply; I'm hooked on him. I cannot stress this enough.
That said though, I am tortured with the constant image of him turning in to some sort of werewolf-like being. That he will become over-run by his sexual appetite and that I will become consumed by a hairy beast. This is ridiculous and I know that he will not become like that, but I have a vivd imagination that's prone to terrorising me with dark mental images, and sometimes I lose my sense of reality. I just need to remember that he and the doctor will be heavily monitoring his T levels and that he will not turn in to a barbaric beast. Certainly not over night anyway!! Although ( and forgive me for this) it might be fun to have my own little werewolf in some ways, if you get my meaning!! Having only ever had a few sexual experiences with men, I have mixed feelings about the changes to our bedroom life. I mean, I've heard tell of transitioning men who become incredibly horny for the first little while at least. What if I can't keep up? I'm not the sort of person who has sex out of obligation, not really. I've done it once or twice and I've been left feeling more dissatisfied than if I'd had a cold shower and gotten on with my day. It is so much worse, trying to scratch that burning itch, if all you're getting is a rigorous tickling at the wrong part, you know? There might be so much sex that I might get bored or feel a loss of myself in it. Or, I might thoroughly enjoy it, who knows? I hope so.
A few months ago, in August, I had a terrible experience with a man in which I woke up next to him, not knowing which end was up, naked and sore down there. I was sore because he had inserted a roll on deoderant inside me. M took me to hospital and I had to have it removed surgically. There was police involvement and all sorts and, while to look at me you wouldn't think it has left its mark on me, I am definitely scarred by the whole thing. I wanted it to go away. I wanted to curl up, hide and to leave myself. To leave the body that had betrayed me. But I didn't. I am a stubborn wee so and so, and refused to let him win that way, so I picked myself up and soldiered on. To a degree. This was not the first time something like this had happened. Back in 2007, I was pinned down and raped by a man. I remember all of that. But again, I picked myself up and got back in the saddle of life. I moved on - though this time I didn't end up in hospital, just weeping in bed, terrified.
However, I still suffer aftershocks in the bedroom, from time to time, and am often reduced to a tearful mess when M tries certain things that in the past I have thoroughly enjoyed. I think this is my biggest fear in this whole thing. That I won't be able to forgive the gender he is choosing for a the terrible things that have happened to me. I don't see why I should not be able to do that, and I get angry when I can't, but the truth is is that when he shows signs of masculinity in the bedroom, I get frightened. He knows this, and is incredibly respectful, but what if he loses his ability to control that? I know that, as it stands at the moment, he won't but I'm scared. Genuinely.
However, I often tell myself that if this is the biggest worry I have, then I'm ok, you know? There are therapists out there that can help us through the difficult patches and we'll get there, I'm just not overly convinced of my own strength. I have very little confidence in myself, but I often pull through and come out up not just smelling of roses, but of chocolate and other delicious things. I have to remember that I am truly blessed, and not to let a few blips trip me up on the road to happiness.
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