My story

This will be a long tale of cross-dressing, femininity, kinks and transgender chastity

To understand why I need chastity in my life you have to go back to the past. So my story starts at a very early age when I was a young boy living with my parents in a small village in rural England.

As a child I was very curious about things but I was also highly sensitive and easily troubled by other people’s emotions and opinions. This made it extremely difficult for me to fit in with other children. I was not a sporty child, although I did eventually learn later to project some competency at both football (soccer) and athletics. Even from the earliest days of pre-school (what we in the UK referred to as Playschool) back then I often felt very uncomfortable and different to those around me.

This feeling led to a deep fear of leaving the house and my mum often had to drag me to school or instead if I was particularly distressed allow me to stay at home. My dad had to work away from home so was only really present at the weekends. As such my mum became my role model. She was the one who got things done, the one who wouldn’t put up with any crap from anyone and she was also the one who comforted me when I felt bad. She told me I was a very sensitive child and while that might sound like she was disappointed, I think really she just realised I was different to other boys.

My dad on the other hand saw me as soft and would tell me to toughen up. That might sound mean but he did do it out of love and only ever wanted the best for me. To my dad “in your face” directness is the most sensible course of action but I now I see that manner as blunt and reckless because it usually comes from anger. Now my parents are something of a curious match since my mum is really the one who has always worn the trousers and made the important decisions. In many ways my dad prefers to be left to his own devices but did and still does have a habit of losing his temper for very petty and unimportant crap. As a result this puts him in the doghouse when he makes the mistake of being particularly unpleasant to my mum and it used to take him many days to worm his way back into her affections. My mum bears grudges for considerable time, whereas my dad just loses his cool but then forgets about it a few hours later. The lesson I learnt although I didn’t truly understand it for some time is that femininity is power given the right application.

As you might expect a sensitive kid like me was far more likely to be inspired by someone who behaved in an appropriate and confident manner most of the time. My mum loved to sing and also partake in amateur dramatics so she would often go out once a week dressed extremely elegantly. I used to marvel at the way she looked and wanted so very much to become more like her. She used to hug me before she went out and the way she felt and the smell of her perfume was so very calming and wonderful.

It was only a matter of time before I started dressing in her clothes. To begin with it was simple things like some obsessed need to wear her chunky heeled knee high leather platform boots. My feet were small back then and as I slipped them on I just felt amazing. There was nothing sexual about it since I was too young but they made me feel like a girl. To this day I do not know where that need came from. Later I found myself trying on her panties, bra, swimsuits and her tights/pantyhose. I’m not proud of the fact even to this day, but I couldn’t help myself because I needed to look and feel like a girl. If I had the means to have bought my own clothes back then I would have.

As I got older I was still highly sensitive even when I got into high school. I never had many male friends and the ones I did have people might describe as geeky, often outcasts themselves but definitely the most loyal and trusted of friends. Ideally I would have preferred to hang around with the girls but that never really happened, I think perhaps maybe they might have had a small insight into the real me… the girly me but the kinder ones would always chat with me and I would often try to help them in class because I knew it made myself and also them very happy. Of course you could also argue that it could have simply been the fact that I didn’t project enough masculinity to interest them.

My school didn’t really have a dress code beyond dark colours and the girls would frequently cross the line with what they wore. The shortest of skirts, over knee ribbed black socks with high heels or Mary Janes. Some even wore over the knee boots and skater skirts. Fashion really was all over the place in the 1980’s. As you might imagine to someone who so very much wanted to dress like a girl I was what you’d call extremely jealous. What truly fascinated me was how much attention they got compared to myself with my very few friends. I so wanted attention and to be desirable and interesting to others.

I was bullied very badly at school and this went on for a very long time until I learnt how to deal with it… I started to fight back and win. My secret caused a lot of confusion and anger so as I got older and stronger I became far more capable. I didn’t want to behave that way but I could see no other course of action to end my suffering. As a result other kids became very wary of setting me off and my life got easier but it was still very lonely. The terrible part of that was that my behaviour was never truly me and I think in a lot of ways I was pretending to be more like my dad. This got much worse later in life when I started drinking and surrounding myself with people who you wouldn’t call especially tolerant, one might even call them bigots.

My teenage years caused me to resent my femininity. I used to be comforted by watching Kenny Everett on the television he was a gay comedian that frequently wore very extreme and highly feminine ladies clothes to represent his many alter-egos. One of which was called Cupid Stunt, which I’m sure you’ll realise is an anagram of something very blunt. Yet every time my dad was home and caught me watching this awesome show he would say “what the hell are you watching that faggot for, change the bloody channel”. So I did as I was told but later when I finally got a small television set in my bedroom I consoled myself with Julian Clary who was just as awesome!

Yet I still felt troubled since my body kept changing. I got hairier and I felt disgusted by my genitals. For some odd reason I also developed extremely sensitive nipples and I realised I could feel a great deal of pleasure caressing them. I was dressing more often in this period since I had found my mum’s collection of clothes she wore for drama and music performances in the attic. It was like a treasure trove to me. The problem was that the clothes started to turn me on and then accidents would happen. One minute I was in heaven feeling so very female and the next minute I felt like this disgusting animal that couldn’t control itself. It made me very ashamed and I felt sick to my stomach getting the clothes off as quickly as possible. Washing them and making sure they were dried and ironed properly since discovery would have destroyed me since I was in terror of how my parents might respond.

I was never religious even though my school had bible readings every Friday and I was often reminded of the special hell that awaits men who dress in female garments. I actually prayed to God to listen and help me end this problem… but he or she never listened to me. As such I decided God was very unreliable and not worth my time. My sense of shame became compounded further when awful tabloid journalists reported about Members of Parliament who were found in some compromising sexual scenario involving them dressed in hold-up stockings and 6” black patent heels. Or in other cases of them wandering Wimbledon Common dressed to the nines trying to attract punters. This just fuelled the journalist crap smears of “Tranny MP caught sucking cock” or “Transvestite gang bang goes wrong in the House of Lords”. It was sensationalist crap and made me realise very quickly that journalists have very little integrity and don’t give a damn about treading on other people’s feelings… all they can see is a big fat pay check!

The term transvestite comes originally from Latin meaning trans, “to cross over” and vestitus, meaning "dressed". But you only have to google the definition now to see the first definition shown is “a man who derives sexual pleasure from wearing women’s clothes”. This perversion of the original meaning was used by doctors, politicians and bigots to make anyone just like me feel like they had a sickness and that we were less than people. It was and still is utterly cruel and despicable behaviour. Fortunately today the world is a little bit more enlightened and the term “crossdresser” is used and can be found under the umbrella and far reaching term of "Transgender", which embraces anyone who is born feeling that their body and feelings are not in line with their true gender.

Of course I knew none of this back then so all the heavily biased and untruthful things I read just filled me with sadness and fear. What made things worse was my dad laughing at those horrible stories. I used to think “I wonder how he would see me if he really knew”. I had no one to turn to back then, it was the 1980s the age of the ZX Spectrum and the Commodore 64, there was no widespread Internet, no support groups or forums to join. Everything I felt and did had to be figured out in isolation and as a result I got so much wrong.

I started to believe there was something inherently wrong with me, that I was somehow defective. As a result sometimes when I dressed I would tie myself up with belts and speak aloud saying just how disgusting and perverse I was. Later on this became much worse and I apologise for any ladies reading when I say that I saw myself as a filthy slut or two bit hooker who only deserved to be used and treated badly. This was a betrayal of the beautiful love of femininity I had been gifted with. Sadly back then it seemed more like a curse than any gift.

Becoming more masculine in manner was a huge pretence I had adopted but it did make me more friends and even attract girls. It came from a desire most of us have, the need to fit in and belong. But in many ways I was simply walking through life as if I was wearing a male person suit which appeared very male but deep inside there was a woman wondering just what the hell had happened to that sensitive person I once was.

I had girlfriends but I think I only chose them due to what they wore and how they looked. That wasn’t fair and while I did feel love for them in my own way I think my attraction was also in large part a need to be close to femininity. It’s correct to say then when I spent time with them I was often thinking about how much I wanted to be them. In my opinion this was not the correct reason for me to be in a relationship and most of them have ended quickly, my longest was three years. Yet none of them ever knew my secret and I’m sad to say that none of them ever met the real me.

I came to a decision in my mid 20’s that I wouldn’t allow myself the joys of a relationship because I found it hard to be honest about myself. I used to go out drinking a lot since at this point this I had a job in a city where I had done my university degree. The friends I made were very down to earth and blunt men, but since that’s how I was acting at that point to fit I’m not surprised. Between the ages of 17 and 25 I had pretty much managed to suppress my urges to dress but that was not to last. So at age 25 one late night in November I decided to buy myself the gorgeous black knee high platform boots I kept seeing in the ladies shoe shop every time I went to work. When I wore them it brought so many of my old feelings back in force but the male persona I had adopted couldn’t handle that fact.

Comfort, compulsion and an absolute need to feel feminine made me go further. Yet my male side of my brain always lied about the reasons for doing it. He convinced himself that he had a significant other in his life, a very Gothic girl who was strong, powerful and also very kinky. Eventually he called her Joanne. He used me for his own ends and also for his sexual satisfaction because despite projecting masculine confidence he was very weak and scared inside. He cut himself off to feelings in every day life because he didn’t understand them and believed they were a weakness. Yet for all that he did have the power to lock me away in a box in his mind when he wanted nothing to do with femininity. He took to thinking of me as his own personal slut and would buy me very risqué items. Once he had the nerve to buy lingerie from Ann Summers (a cheap UK mainstream Victoria’s Secret) it was his undoing. He was always full of stupid inhibitions but only by dressing as me could he ever find the confidence to explore them. But what he didn’t realise is that those clothes made me feel powerful and the part of my mind that had always been Joanne grew even stronger. It might amuse people to know that he eventually saw me as his Mistress or Domme and he desperately needed my strength, he wanted to be controlled and directed because he never liked the person he had spent many years pretending to be.

In a curious way my understanding of domination and submission comes entirely from experiences I subjected myself to as a way to truly understand myself. It wasn’t always this way and for the longest period the man in me would fight back and even hate me. Purging my clothes when he grew sick of my frequent dressing. Trying to hurt me, thinking of me as an evil bitch (apologies ladies). But I only ever wanted to help him. To clarify so nobody think I’m totally nuts… to help me become who I always was deep down. Much of what I have written has to be described from two perspectives for it to make sense to you.

I’ve always been Joanne even when I was never fully aware of it. These days the male and female parts of my brain have come to an understanding and the understanding is simple. I am the one in control, I think and feel female no matter whether my physical body is in line with that fact. I am the one who cares and tries to emphasise with others, I feel love whereas the male in me has only known hate. I can be cruel as Joanne but only to people who seriously offend me or specifically ask for it because they enjoy it and it is always tempered by the belief that it’s purely for their own good. I never go over the top with it because I don’t believe in hurting anyone.

Anyway chastity was something I got into when I started reading about sissies. I had previously tried to fit in on transgender forums but I was too different, too kinky and to an extent too rebellious to ever fit in. I didn’t care to be told what I should wear and how I should behave because I like to do things which benefit me. And dressing in Goth clothes as I do many were cruel to me and told me I should frequent graveyards. Do understand that when I dress Goth it is more elegant than fetish but I still love my fetish clothes too. However I don’t wear my feminine clothes outside of the house so I harm no one and I especially don't harm the Transgender cause. I think in the future I feel that were I to venture outside I should project an androgynous appearance which gives me the balance of both male and female in harmony.

So regarding sissy behaviour, it interested me and I found much of the erotic fiction highly amusing. I always took keen note of how the Dommes behaved and I often giggled at the elaborate and very cunning scenarios they would devise. I found sissies very understanding to talk to and I enjoyed the fact that so many have an extreme female dress sense. That makes sense to me because I often used to have to overcompensate with my feminine dress sense for feeling too male inside. But there is also a part of me that feels I missed my chance to be a party girl when I was young.

I was still coming to terms with a lot of my feelings as Joanne at this point so I got interested in hypnosis. Typically of the feminising kind because I so wanted to clear the mental blocks in my mind that my male self had created. I needed to be let out of the box. The problem for me was that most of the hypnosis I came across was FemDom and I didn’t appreciate being pushed around by ladies who expected blind worship from the instant their recordings spoke to me. In a sense I found it laughable, I grew resentful and hated these so called half-baked hypno-witches because they threatened my identity as Joanne and I knew 90% of them were only into it for a quick buck and not all like true practicing, experienced Dommes. Looking at it now from my current perspective I would say that the very dominant nature of myself as Joanne felt threatened. Essentially my male side had literally already become my sub and he answered totally to me, not to some other lady.

For the record I am not a sissy. I hate humiliation and degradation and that will be no surprise considering my history but I have nothing but time for sissies because they were my friends when others wouldn’t accept me. And I got into chastity because of reading about sissies and the part of locking masculinity away for good highly appealed to me. I have no interest in masturbating like a man because it disgusts me and reminds me of something horrible that once spoilt my joy of femininity. But I am a very sexual person and enjoy exploring other pleasures which make me feel more womanly. I am also not a crossdresser from my perspective, I don't crossdress when I wear my favourite clothes but I do feel I'm crossdressing when I have to project the image of a man. What I am is Transgender and more importantly me!

I did find more positive feminising hypnosis in the end and I could tolerate some FemDom as long as it took the approach of acting as a female friend who was trying to help me. After a great deal of time and research I wrote my own script and made a recording to help me face my female self. As a result all my feelings came spilling out and were difficult to process. It still takes work but I appreciate the benefits of my feelings now, in many ways my male and female sides have become blended. Yet I am more Joanne now in most respects.

Sadly I still have moments where I feel I am falling into my old stupid male ways or at least slipping back into that false and quite the asshole persona I used to project so chastity is a superb form of mental correction. If I act stroppy or annoying or have silly ideas about throwing out my beautiful things or deleting my photos because I suddenly feel I look hideous, then it is time for lock up. After a few days I am back to myself again. Sometimes it takes longer periods, perhaps two weeks or even a month but after a while that old masculinity learns its place again at my heels.

Thank for reading my long and somewhat bizarre tale. I hope it has been interesting.

Joanne

 

Thank you Denise and I totally understand your quandary because it's hard to like something with so many high and low points, but there is some logic to my apparent bravery/madness in sharing. I prefer to be totally open with everyone who chooses to be my friend, and that is something that started from the minute I accepted myself as Joanne. That in my own way is my sense of absolute feminine confidence. It makes clear how I became the person I am now and I also feel that by laying all my cards on the table there is nothing about me which can ever be misinterpreted or used to hurt me. My gender therapist has told me many times that doing this sort of thing can be beneficial to both myself and to others. And as for the last line of your comment you are very welcome in my life dear sister.

 

Thank you Pamela for your lovely comment. Your friendship means a lot to me.

 

I was thinking it might be time for an update. At present I am almost a fortnight into my most recent self enforced lock up in chastity. While that is not especially long compared to many here I am proud of myself for sticking with it. Often in the past I would lock up for 2-3 days, take a break for a few days and then lock up again. I suspect this was playing havoc with my emotions and I know for my own peace of mind I should say locked for as long as I can.

Thankfully this time I have had some wonderful encouragement and support from a dear friend which has helped me remain focused on what I want. It's very different for me being transgender since I have no desire to masturbate as a man so I don't feel the same frustration that many have. In a sense I tend to describe it as a mental correction to remind myself that while I have been unfairly given a male body along with a female mind and heart I don't have to conform to being male. To all intents and purposes chastity is effectively neutering any remaining masculinity which can on occasion distress me.

My own roles for self-enforced chastity is that I can only remove my device for cleaning or if it is causing me pain. But once the pain passes I must lock up again immediately. I have stuck to this rule. However I do allow myself some pleasures, namely nipple play and anal fun. My pleasure centres became completely rewired over a year ago and from my perspective of thinking of myself as female I am free to cum whenever I wish as long as I cum like a girl. But no matter what I must remain in chastity. I think to cum like a man would truly sicken and disturb me at this point. I simply have no desire to undo my feminine progress.

I must comment now on this wonderful website which really has been a blessing to me. For some reason I never truly explored the possibility of connecting with other kinky minded people which was rather foolish in hindsight. I have found true friends here who accept me completely and I have the freedom to say exactly what I think and feel. I think now I am achieving what my therapist referred to as a social transition. To some extent before I came here I always knew I was Joanne, of course I still had some small doubts about myself as must people do if they've had similar unhappy experiences. But now knowing how other people think of me and see me it's like I'm finally whole and my confidence has truly been boosted to a whole new level.

I've also had a great deal of fun with expressing my confidence as Domina to a few trusted friends who like that side of me. I prefer Domina to Mistress, even though the meaning is very much the same. In Roman times, a Domina was the Mistress or Lady of a household and as a fan of history I happen to like the title and it sounds sexier to me. I feel in this role I have been able to express a lot of things which I kept hidden and that was quite foolish since those aspects of confidence, deviousness and creativity are as much a part of me as my caring, compassion and understanding traits. Therefore it makes sense to harness them on occasion and it has been an absolute joy so far!

 

Thank you Donna Sue.

 

The perfect opportunity for a suitable form of correction Pamela. As you know I very much enjoy thinking up tasks.

 

Thank you Cat, that was a really lovely thing to say. I'm all for increasing awareness which is one of my main reasons for being so open about myself. If it helps others find their way then that reassures me that it was definitely the right thing to do. Your comment about rebirth is very true I think especially since the first piece of jewellery I bought once I accepted myself was a phoenix pendant. But as people we are always evolving and finding new revisions as we learn more about ourselves over time. I myself have changed to an extent since I wrote that and hopefully I have grown as a person. Thank you once again, I am honoured to be your friend!

 

Thank you. Sadly this sort of thing can be very painful and believe me it once made me cry to relive my past so vividly. But if I hadn't done that I would never have been to move past it. We often feel burdened by things we have once done. regrets for mistakes made, but that's not healthy. What's important is learning from our mistakes and never repeating them, because life is just too short to dwell on things that no longer matter.

I would never see myself as an inspiration, even though your comment was a very kind one. So if I try to say anything remotely helpful now I would have to say always be yourself and do what makes you truly happy!

 

You're most welcome and I am happy to share if it helps others. I would welcome chatting with you even if it's just about boots.

 

Since it’s been some time, I decided I should update this. A lot has changed for me, in many interesting ways.

When I first came here I was simply looking to make a connection with interesting people, those who would at least try to understand and appreciate me. I’ve known I was Transgender for a long time, but I never really found the social connection I was longing for.

I did try of course, the day I found my bravery to try out a few Trans forums, but they never really worked for me, and once more much like in my childhood, other people’s judgements and criticism held me back, because I was too easily affected by what people think. To an extent it shattered my faith in human nature, to a Trans girl who just longed to feel she belonged with her fellow sisters, I expected it to be like finding the Holy Grail. That it would be an illuminating experience, but that was not the case. As I told my dear sissy friend, it was very much like finding a broken down toilet, with a queue of very mixed up and angry people desperate to use it. I thought I'd find valuable answers, but they didn't have any to offer, or simply refused to share.

Since I like to dress Goth I was also informed I should be frequenting graveyards rather than forums. My style was mocked, and I was told I simply must conform. But guess what? I happen to like my style, or at least I did then, and I simply just wanted support. Problem is that even in Trans forums there is always an agenda at work, and if you go against that or want something different you’re ostracised.

So in the end I thought “fuck it”, and decided it was a waste of my time, since the same sad story occurred on about four different sites. I went off and did my own research, figured out what being Trans really meant to me, conducted my own soul searching, and decided what kind of Transition I would likely seek in the future. At least I had the luxury of some choice since I wasn’t overwhelming crippled by gender dysphoria. Took me nearly two years to find what I wanted, it’s was painful, I cried a lot, but I did find my way.

Something changed in me during this time, I grew confident that my answers were as good as anyone else’s, since so little can be scientifically proven about being Trans. To a degree you have to take this kind of thing on faith, not religious faith… but faith in yourself and your own feelings.

Learning how to use my emotions which I had kept locked up for so long made me stronger, sensitivity and compassion made me powerful. I believed in myself for the first time and knew that this is how I was meant to be, and that I need to live as me… not just some pantomime character to appease other’s lack of understanding.

But I never had friends who saw that, my oldest friend knows but he’s grown distant in recent years, could be just life but I suspect it’s because I’m Trans. So I needed a social outlet, a place I could go to find all the missing pieces. At first I tried Reddit for about a year and found sissies truly wonderful and supportive people. The wonderful thing about sissies is that they’re sensitive and understanding, and to me at a difficult stage in my own emotional evolution they became the sisters I had once looked for elsewhere. Sadly being a sissy can sometimes be a very stressful experience for many, especially when they suffer from internal doubt and guilt. It was always a shame when so many I once chatted with would simply vanish one day, deleting their accounts in a kind of purge of self-hatred.

So I started looking elsewhere. I always knew I was kinky, that much was obvious, so I tried a few places out, and this one worked out for the best.

I’ve made good friends here, people who have enriched my life and helped me learn who I really am and what I want from life. I’m dominant, intelligent, and I speak my mind, so it’s not surprising that some subs found me exciting, interesting and a potential Mistress.

But here’s the thing I have discovered in time, I don’t want to be like other Mistress’s. Their methods are not mine, and to be quite honest I doubt many would even take a Trans Mistress seriously, some even think being Trans is just another sissy they can control… kind of sad and a poor mistake to make. At one point maybe I’d have liked that acceptance, just to belong, but the truth is right now I couldn’t really give a damn. Once more I found my own way, the right way… my fucking way! If people don’t like that… well that’s just tough!

So let me tell you what I think a D/s dynamic is. It’s a symbiotic relationship where both parties get something out of it, both enrich the other, yet there is a clear hierarchy involved, a set of rules which safeguard everything. The submissive craves to please and the Dominant loves to direct. It must always be consensual and both parties must always consider the safety and well-being of the other.

But to many they think it’s either all about themselves, the needy sub who is addicted to punishment and refuses to learn nothing. The greedy Mistress who sits on her ass tempting gullible men with her Findom bullshit, only caring about her narcissistic self. To others it’s about pushing someone around and beating them when they don’t do what you tell them, in my opinion that’s no dynamic… its abuse!

I also hate this constant humiliation of sissies which has become prevalent, sure if it gets the sissy girl off then it’s all very well, at least as long as it isn’t fuelling any repressed self-hate. But to me being Trans, some of these sissies are girls or have at least the potential to be one day, so I always see them as girls, whereas others might view them as men who happen to be sissies. So for a woman to degrade a sissy girl is in many ways like a woman simply degrading herself. You might read that and don’t like it… tough it’s my opinion, so deal with it!

Interestingly enough my best friend here is a sissy, although she has her own definition of what a sissy is and that definition has quite some scope, but truly she has been the most honest, loving and helpful friend I have ever known. She also loves and embraces her femininity rather than hiding it away like a “dirty secret”, I’ve learnt a lot from her and I’m very grateful. I won’t draw unwanted attention to her by mentioning her name, but she certainly knows who she is.

So what’s next for me? Well getting back to the dynamic I personally believe it only really works if you have love, support and understanding in place first before throwing kink into the mix. I couldn’t ever have a sub who I didn’t love, I’ve tried that and it’s meaningless to me.

A very sensible guy on here said to me, “a sub must bring you something, they must enrich you in some way”. How very true, therefore the greatest gifts a sub could bring me is love and absolute acceptance of who I am. Thankfully I’m pleased to say I’ve finally found that, never expected it either since I thought I might just end up a lonely spinster. But we both agreed the relationship needs to be solid as a rock first, before we ever start with Mistress and sub evenings. And even then it will never be 24/7, just something that will enhance our relationship.

As some of you know I decided I wouldn’t lock myself up anymore. It doesn’t suit a dominant person, and it certainly is strange behaviour for a Mistress. But upon reflection, 12 weeks consistently locked and 2 years of part-time dabbling at least gave me an insight into how it feels for many here. And it also helped calm my raging soul enough for me to truly discover myself. So from that point of view it was worthwhile. My last fear was worrying about what other people think and now I simply don't care about random idiots, all I care about is what I and my friends think of me. My best friend helped me to see that.

I don’t need chastity anymore, because I know who I am, so locking my genitals up changes nothing. I’m Joanne and I always will be!

 

Thank you hon.

 

Thank you so much, dear Cat. You are such a wonderful and deeply compassionate lady, it is an honour to be your friend.

 

I figured it was time for an update. A great many changes have occurred recently. I joined FetLife some time ago and even though it’s not a dating site, I completely hit it off with a lovely trans woman. We spent weeks chatting with one another every day and we both really looked forward to the day that we planned to meet up.

She was confident, apparently very affectionate and into a lot of kinky things which she wanted to explore with a Dominant person, as such it all really appealed to me. I think it’s realistic to say that it isn’t always wise to base a relationship on a D/s dynamic because you need the groundwork, trust and genuine affection first. Not always for some because it can still work out, but in my case I can’t don’t kinky things with someone I don’t care about and respect. I'm just not wired that way.

Things seemed to be going well, almost like a fairy tale if I wanted to put a soppy spin on it and that in itself blinded me. It was too good to be true, problems quickly surfaced and in so many ways she had misrepresented herself to me, even lied.

She wasn’t confident, she was shaky as hell and I thought maybe in time she’ll start to grow more comfortable. Sadly she also wasn’t affectionate and was very reserved which was totally the opposite of me and it all started to feel very one-sided.

To be fair she had a lot of problems, part of her like a very small part of myself resents being trans. It’s understandable because quite often we feel like we’ve been cheated and dealt a shitty card by some higher power. The thing is one week we were together the next she’d decided she couldn’t handle a relationship, before flipping back to going out with me again the week after. Over time I realised the most serious issue was that her gender dysphoria was far worse than mine.

In hindsight I should have taken time out, but the thing is I really cared (still do), so I didn’t just want to abandon her in that state. But by the same token I couldn’t really get over the rather poor way she continued to treat me. I mean who would have thought that? Bitchy me being treated badly.

You might say, “why did you put up with it Joanne that’s not like you?” I guess because it’s the first time I have had that kind of closeness and understanding with anyone, and I didn’t want to give it up and walk away, and part of me of course hoped it would work out... foolish optimism. The fact that she was trans made such a difference to me because she relates to the experiences I’ve been through.

But eventually the other week we went out as friends to a LGBT friendly pub in my city. It was a good night until we got back to her place where she was letting me stay over, at least until all the anger I felt at being so continually messed around spilled out.

Maybe a combination of drink and the fact I was so irritated by the way I had literally been blindsided with bullshit set me off. I felt like I’d been screwed with. I am so wary of that with any sub, I guess I just didn’t see the possibility of a trans woman doing it. I don’t why but I won’t make that error again. All she ever really wanted was a friend, someone who would support her, so she lied over and over because she saw how happy I was and didn’t want to spoil it, but in the end she knew lying was the worst thing to do.

I have to admit the whole previous situation shook my confidence, even made me doubt myself and I had to take time out from going online. I considered that I could never risk making this mistake again, if one person can pull the wool over your eyes, anybody can.

After that miserable night we spent a month not seeing each other, since I said a lot of mean things. But we have managed to move past it recently, and the reason I want to remain friends with her is that we are good for each other, and she feels the same way. She doesn’t lie anymore because she knows how much damage it causes, but she still has problems expressing herself sometimes. We’re not entirely the same even though we have many things in common, she seeks medical transition as soon as possible, but as of now I only want a social transition and that’s okay. We all have to choose our own path.

The key thing is that we both have a friend now, we support and help one another live at least some semblance of the life we feel we missed out on. Dressing up and partying, things we should have done as women when were much younger. Even simple things like going to the cinema or the coffee shop, or shopping for clothes feels so much more enriching when you have someone to share it with, someone who makes you feel that it’s perfectly acceptable to just be yourself.

And perhaps by doing all that I may find someone who is right for me, I have hope so I don’t want you all thinking I need pity because shit just happens to all of us and that’s the way it is. We all have to learn something from our experiences and every one of us is an ongoing work in progress.

As a Dominant person I would say the one thing that has crippled me all my life is fear. That might surprise you, but for me its fear of things that people might say or do that caused me years of inaction and doubt.

But that first time I went out the fear started to melt away, and the more I continue to do it the less I care about what anyone else thinks. I do keep myself street smart because it’s always wise to be wary, but I can’t spend my life indoors worrying about what may not even happen. That’s not a life.

A very old friend of mine is a counsellor and quoted a wonderful line from his coursework, at the time it never sunk in, but it makes perfect sense now. He said:

What other people think of you is none of your business.​

And that’s perfectly right, it doesn’t matter. What matters is what you think and what those you consider dear in your life think. Of course there’s limits to that so you can’t always apply it to your intolerant employer or bigoted, narrow-minded Father in law. But the general rule is sound! Of course there's one exception: disgusting idiots on FetLife messaging ladies with their filth, those people are certainly everyone's business and need to be drawn attention to so people can see their bad behaviour and make sure they don't inflict their toxic deranged fantasies on anyone else.

Going out has given me a side to myself I always needed. I played the fetish wearing parody of a woman for too long, I never had true balance. I was just so hung up on trying to be this fantasy version of myself that I neglected all the rest. If it wasn’t for meeting this woman I’d never have even made the effort to revise myself, I would never have wanted to blend in. Luckily I realised I needed to also be an everyday woman like any other despite my biological makeup.

I’m always going to be Dominant and that is a fact. I will at times still want to wear fetish clothing because I happen to like it, another fact. But in moderation and not to the exclusion of everything else or I risk undoing all the progress I’ve made so far.