A Good-Hair Day, and a Good Day Overall

Three years ago, the conflict behind being part-male yet basically female … reached a psychological crisis point for me. I was ready to abandon the “try to look like a male” premise. The merits of the basic alternative had become clear. As part of the process, I fantasized about having long, blonde hair. A supportive friend bought me a wig, and I loved its look: This is how I looked in 2011.

IMAG0190g_360x450After a while, it no longer felt as if I were wearing an add-on. The fake hair became part of my basic image for myself, like a cowboy might feel about his hat.  It belonged there.

And yet, when I was in a grocery store, I’d make a point of walking past the aisle where the hair-coloring products were. I would look at the lovely girls shown on the packages, and I would fantasize about perhaps one day being able to have hair like that. It seemed so ridiculously far-fetched. Where would I have the coloring done? Would I fly to Brazil and have it done thousands of miles away? I couldn’t possibly have it done in Nevada, and be seen by people who had thought of me for years as being male … or could I?

Fast-forward to 2014.  I still own the wig. It’s in my closet and it’s been there for a very long time. My own hair is now long, and blonde.


IMAG8669Today, I got my hair done (again) by Jen at L’Essence in Reno.  Jen is wonderful anyway, plus she’s been super-supportive of my strange transgender journey.  While I was at L’Essence, a lady lost her footing while going up the stairs, and ended up in a precarious position to where she was about to fall down the stairs some more, She also couldn’t reach the cane that she’d used to help her balance herself.  I rushed towards her, stood behind her and slowly lifted her to her feet, then helped her regain her balance.  I also picked up her cane.

It occurred to me that perhaps the arm muscles that I wish were smaller …. have some compensations sometimes.  It was nice to basically look like a girl but to have some attributes from the other side of the gender fence.

IMAG8668After Jen did my hair, I bought myself a nice lunch at the Sparks Nugget. I like to look in the mirrors as I practice how to walk better.  And, people were SO nice to me.  It was almost as if they’d been set up to be extra-positive towards me.

IMAG8667Yes, there’s still a lot of room for improvement, but it feels good to have the hair aspect be good enough, even by my own picky standards.


When I was a baby, my hair was very blonde — almost white.  And, over time it’s become darker — too dark.  That’s where Jen comes in.

My hair is also naturally curly — too curly for my taste, though I get a lot of compliments on it.  It certainly has a lot of body. But, I love it the way Jen does it.IMAG8671Last night, just before bedtime, I looked at the reflection in the mirror again and again. It felt good that there was one aspect that I could cross off my to-do list as “mission accomplished.”  And, the difficult times to get here suddenly seemed so insignificant.

Meanwhile, in other news, there are world events much more important than my hair. I try to understand the issues, and I also try to make the world a better place.  But somewhere in the grand scheme of things, how I look also matters — to me, anyway.

The World is Sometimes Nicer than I’d Thought

Today, I bought something at a convenience store. Behind the counter were two gentlemen. The one at the cash register seemed friendly enough. The other gentleman was very quiet. The T-shirt he wore had the word “Marines” across the chest.

I like the Marine Corps for many reasons, but I suspect that I like them more than they like me, what with me being a transgender girl and all. Transgender girls and gays don’t rate high in stereotypical Marine sub-culture as I understand it. So, all things being equal, when I meet a Marine or a former Marine, I’m respectful yet wary.

“Nice purse,” the gentleman said.

Here we go, I thought. I explained that I’m a mix of male and female parts, that I’ve tried to live as a male and that didn’t work very well, and so now I …

“No, I mean, that’s a nice purse.  I used to sell purses.”

Oh. He wasn’t being snarky. When he said “nice purse” what he really meant was “nice purse.”

We had a positive conversation about the care and repair of Liz brand purses, and I felt sheepish about how I’d misinterpreted his initial comment. This gentleman was much nicer than I’d presumed. It was a nice surprise.


From a Size 12 to a Size 6

Today, I visited Plato’s Closet in Reno to get some new jeans. My day-to-day jeans are too large and their knees are scuffed through, and they have stains that don’t wash out any more.  [Note to self: I need to stop kneeling in oil as I work on my cars.]

My brand of choice for day-to-day wear in jeans is Charlotte Russe’s Glam / Refuge.

Being transgender, I’m basically a mix of male and female parts, and for the first part of my life, I tried to live as a male. It was an epic fail, and depressing to boot. Eventually I could no longer muster the enthusiasm to do proper care and maintenance on the male-looking person staring at me in the mirror. Don’t get me wrong: there’s nothing wrong with being male … but when you’re basically a girl and you feel like you have to live like a male, that IS a problem. I kept putting on weight, and the nice people in my life would gently point out what I knew already and what the scale was telling me. At some point, I was 30 pounds overweight, the magic “now you’ve crossed the line” mark. That wasn’t all. My blood pressure was bad, too, as was the mix of fats in my blood. I was basically going downhill fast and yet I couldn’t motivate myself to care enough to do anything about it.

I’d never enjoyed being in photographs, but as my health and looks kept deteriorating, I was even less enthused. The waist sizes of the jeans I’d buy kept going up. It was a sad situation.

After I realized I was basically a male-female mix but fundamentally female, not male, I started living as a female. Suddenly, I felt basically OK with my body. I started caring for it. I made a database to track what I ate, and the calorie implications of that. I slowly but surely lost weight. Over a two-year time span, I gradually changed shape, and now I look like the picture below, that I took last night:

IMAG8556I think I look good enough now to be happy about my shape. The market seems to agree. Some gentlemen really like the transgender-girl look, and they have paid me to do private modeling and stripper work. In my work as a software developer, I bill my time at $160+ but ironically I have made more money per hour showing off my looks. So, that’s been a validating experience for me.

I recall going into the Charlotte Russe store in Reno, two years ago, and buying size 10 jeans that I thought would fit, since by then I’d already lost some weight. To my embarrassment, they didn’t. I couldn’t even fit into them. I brought them back to the store and asked if I could exchange them for size twelve jeans. Those did fit.

Imagine my delight today, two years later, when I found a pair of size eight jeans that look like the picture that I took today, wearing them. The brand is “Feel Beautiful.”

imag8583No, the fire extinguisher isn’t a hint. 🙂

Then, I found some jeans of the exact same brand as the baggy size 12 jeans that I was wearing right then, in the Plato’s Closet store, today — but size 8.  I tried them on.  They fitted nicely, yay!

On a hunch, I tried on some size 6 jeans of that same brand. Even though they were tight, I thought they fitted well. But, folks who are concerned about their weight are not always realistic. So, I decided to ask the saleslady her opinion. I showed them off, and her verdict was that they fitted fine. Yay!

So, it’s official. I’ve gone from a size 12 to a size 6, in the same brand of jeans, meaning when I compare apples to apples.  Better!

Moving Sexily

A few years ago, I watched a video of a transgender beauty contest, in which the mistress of ceremonies was a lovely t-girl … who took two very masculine-looking strides to the microphone and ruined much of her image in the process, for me anyway. That really made an impression on me.

I do escorting sometimes. I sell time, not sex, and whatever turns the client on, I’m willing to consider doing. One of my clients, who is 100% male and works in a macho profession, was curious as to how he’d look feminized. So, I dressed him up as a girl and put a blonde wig on him. He looked good. And then, he took a few masculine-looking steps, and the image was ruined, for me anyway.

So, yes, it’s important for me to move in a feminized way as one more way of living as the female that I basically am. This is occurring in a context where I have for decades tried to fit into guy culture and tried to look as male as I possibly could, so there’s a lot that I need to un-learn.

But, I also am concerned about how I look. I love the hourglassy look and I wish I looked like that. But, rather than wishing, I have specific plans that will eventually help me look more curvy. For now, any hourglassiness in my shape is due to having a narrow waist and flat abs. It’s a good start, but my body is still shaped too much like a tree and not enough like an hourglass.

Recently, I found the perfect pick-me-up when I feel frustrated or sorry for myself about my shape: a video that shows Anastasia Sokolova dancing, in “Ukraine’s Got Talent.”


Yes, she’s pretty, but that’s not the main attraction. How she moves, is the key issue.

It’s difficult for me to focus on her physique because she seems to transcend that, but when I can, I notice that she’s shaped like … well, me, actually — as far as I can tell.


She has fairly muscular arms and shoulders, and not a particularly thin waist, nor huge boobs, nor wide hips. She’s slender yet muscular — athletic.NEW-5

The way she walks is already a large part of her moving sexily.


She’s a professional pole dancer, and … wow. Now that I’ve seen a video of her dancing …

… wow.




This lady lives in the Ukraine, which isn’t the center of the universe for wealth. She doesn’t have a curvy body. And yet, she has taught herself to move in a way that makes her magnificently sexy — and an inspiring role model, for me.