Dear Little Boy, who I used to be, Please do not believe the lies you were told. They convinced you that you were born wrong, that you would amount to nothing. They even convinced you that you would never be lovable as your authentic self. They told you over and over, from the time… Continue reading A Note to self: Dear Little Boy, who I used to be
I was born in 1967 and assigned a female at birth and on my birth certificate. My medical career as a patient started at three years old. It was after they realized they had a boy on their hands, that was not allowed to be a boy. Back then, they called me "perceptionaly handicapped", and… Continue reading How I was medically, and psychiatrically violated as an intersex person.
I was a cutter. I want to own "was" a cutter, because I do not want to feed that monster no more. Triggers can sometimes bring back this self-destructive behavior. Being born intersex, and not being able to be my authentic gender, messed me up bad. You see, I was assigned a girl, when… Continue reading Yes, I was a cutter.
As a teen "girl", in the 80's all the short rock stars and movie stars haunted me and intrigued me at the same time. Limahl was one of them. He was in the group, Kajagoogoo, as well as being a musician on his own. He haunted me because I was not allowed to be a… Continue reading A fun blog: Limahl, Adam Ant, Chris Kattan, Pete Burns, and me!
Why did you want me to die? The last I heard you were "Devastated" that I saved my life. "Devastated" that you now have a brother "Devastated" that I did not die a broken and A very sick intersex woman Why did you want me to die? Did I ruin your plans for my funeral?… Continue reading Poem: Why did you want me to die?
Here are memories, I wrote on Facebook, from March, 23rd, 2015 (week 14), after setting myself free from being so sick, and seen as the wrong gender. At this point, I am now embracing my bodies natural higher testosterone, as well as injecting more. What a glorious thing to not worry about being… Continue reading Memories of Week 14, 2015: Set Free to COME HOME for the FIRST TIME
I Will Sing My Song How could you see my angel wings, you were blind, you could not sing. I was locked in a Cage. How could you see that I was special, they had lied to you, they told you I was all wrong and you believed them. You locked me up, and let… Continue reading Poem: I Will Sing My Song