Red Tape

Red Tape


If I ignore the NHS and TalkTalk, changing name and title has been a rather easy process. Yes, it has involved lots of form filling and ticking boxes and in one or two cases explaining why a person who is listed as female would want to use a man’s name and title. That is the process of red tape and one has to go through it anyway.

The NHS is causing me real problems. They now have six copies of my deed poll, all of which are certified and stamped to their requirement. Yes, I said six, and still they have not updated their records and insist on using my old name and using female pronouns. When I complain they tell me ‘It’s an oversight and shouldn’t have happened!’ Well perhaps if they updated their bloody records with the information they have been given six times they would not keep having these oversights. This is the NHS, the same people I am supposed to trust with my transition therapy which involves sharing some very intimate details of myself amongst other things. How can I trust them with stuff like that when they cannot even change stuff on computer records. It is a name change, it involves pressing a key or two and that is it.

As for my phone and internet provider, TalkTalk, they are seriously skating on thin ice with me.  I called them, and got put through to their call centre in India, or wherever it is, it certainly is not the UK. I explained I had changed my name and needed to change my account details – simple if I don’t they will not be able to collect funds from my bank to pay the bill. Simple, yeah right! The ignorant ass taking my call then spoke to me like I was a maggot demanding to know why I would be so stupid, yes he said stupid, as to change my name. My response was polite as I informed him I would be reporting him to his manager and TalkTalk. I then explained at least a dozen times I would not be giving him details as to the reasons for changing my name as it was none of his business. I faxed over a copy of my deed poll and then got informed ‘You done it wrong girlie you put a man’s name on your deed poll.’ Needless to say this is now in the hands of my lawyers, TalkTalk management have been informed and are grovelling as they know it could lead to a case of discrimination – damn right!

Other than these two instances it has been plain sailing with no issues at all, frankly the two issues that have come up are more than enough.


Love and light





Some relationships go beyond the barriers of friends to a level of connection that is brother or sisterhood. This is all very new to me as by living behind my own mask I rarely let anyone else in too close. I did not like too much intimacy even in the love relationship so with friends it was just not possible. Subconsciously I was blocking people out. I never questioned why I connected with men better than women as friends, now of course that all makes sense.

The very idea of hugging a buddy would have been unacceptable to me just a few years ago. Such closeness would have horrified me. In fact even eye contact would have been too much sometimes. I have noticed I don’t have such a fascination with the floor anymore. Maybe that is a reflection of allowing myself to live as who I am, certainly it is connected. I can explore my thoughts and feelings a lot easier so I do not find close situations so intimidating.

To be honest I did not fully notice these changes but a couple of old friends did. One friend in particular had been worried I was becoming reclusive to avoid interacting with other people. I suppose that is part of it as I knew I had to get my head sorted out. I also had issues with going places and I still do. It really is a case of kicking my own butt and making myself do it.

I know there are people who care and would help me do it but that really defeats the object as I need to do it for myself. However it is good knowing they are there to give me moral support when I need it. Allowing others to do that when I have always been the one to give the moral support has been tough in itself.

Transition is so much more than just changing gender, it is making me face some of the real issues I had and deal with them. Reality check some of that I cannot do on my own as much as I want to.



No Return



Over recent weeks so many people have chimed in with what they think is wise advice about my transition. All in the same vein that there is no going back. Each time I hear it, I listen and try not to bite as in the main they are being kind. The fact is I am past the point of turning back. I passed it the day I walked into Doc M’s surgery and asked her to help me. All the thinking had been done.

I have lost count of the sleepless nights spent in anguish trying to escape the inevitable choice of going down the road of becoming a man. Yes I said inevitable as there was really no other choice as my emotional and mental well-being was deteriorating rapidly. That anguish and pain I never shared with anyone. It is not something that just quietly crept through the door like a good idea. It has haunted me in some way since childhood.

Each time I pushed it back refusing to give in. Each time that got more difficult to do, until I could not fight anymore, not for her. She had reached the point of exhaustion and he had to take over. I have no regrets here. My life as she built him up until he was ready to take over and face the journey that will take me through this.

Mentally and emotionally the transition has taken place and has been going on for many a year. The times I feel like I have killed her, are the times I need to reflect on all that she gave me and yes my life as she gave me a lot, not least my wonderful sons. Nothing, not even he, can take their mother away but he does not want to as they are as much a part of him as they were of her.

Yes I know there will be no going back once medical intervention has taken place but in my heart in my mind I cannot go back as there is no place to go back to. As I sat in the guy from the Laurel’s office on Friday answering his questions, answers that go back to the 1970’s I felt the boxes of myself being unpacked – again. This is something I hate doing as it tears into my core. I cracked up a few times and despised myself for most of it.

This is nothing new, my LIFT counsellor and my psychiatrist have done the same thing a fair few times. It does not get easier and it does not get harder. Each time it is like opening up the wounds of self-hate and guilt for the first time, it hurts and it bleeds. I see the person asking me the questions and they are always kind and supportive but my barriers rise and I feel alone and haunted. Each little event of the past is like ghost reminding me of things I do not want to remember.

There is no going back as this time I am repacking those boxes and I do not think I will need to open them again. They are the events that hurt me and reliving them causes me the greatest agony I have ever known. Instead I am ready to move forward into the future and take all the crap and the good times that has to offer. This time I am aware it is those past events, and surviving, them that has made me stronger and ready to do that.

Once again I send my deepest gratitude to all of you who message me; your support is valued more than I can ever say in words.

Love and light


Releasing Steam



Tomorrow is my first appointment at the Laurels. My head is going batshit crazy. I have stopped listening to what other people say as it is all conflicting information. I have too much information firing up at me. Some say the Laurels is wonderful some say it is a nightmare from hell. I don’t have a clue which to believe anymore. The only way I can do this now is to have back-up options in place, So I spoke to a private transgender specialist yesterday and now have that as a fall back option if things don’t work out in Exeter.

Honestly I don’t know whether to expect a disparaging attitude against FtM or a person who is supportive so I figure the best option is to expect the worst and be damned. Can I accept that? Yes, I have been living as Jez for years and that is not going to change because of a medic’s disapproval and if needs be I can continue as I have been. To me the physical changes I would like are purely for my own vanity and no different to having a nose job or a face-lift. I would rather not have to bind for the rest of my life but if I have to, I have to and I will not cry over it.

You might wonder what I have to gain then. Not a lot it would seem as just chasing the dream has allowed me to leave the past self behind and inform the people who did not know and they accept me as a guy. To a point that is mission accomplished.

Now this may sound all rather negative and in some ways it is. However, it is better to think worst case scenario than build up my hopes and see them get shattered as I could not mentally or emotionally cope with that. I am still getting to know the guy that is Jez and whilst he is me, of that I have no doubt at all; I really don’t know who he is and I deserve to give myself that time and keep my focus on that. I have done the legwork of adjusting my life without professional support. Nobody was there when I emotionally crashed out because I couldn’t cope 6 years ago and the doctor told me to deal with it as nothing could be done. I took him at his word and dealt with it just like I have with everything else I have had to deal with in life. Why in all that is sacred would I expect anything different now – I don’t and it is as simple as that!

Oh well see what happens tomorrow.

Love and light




NaPoMo 4: Farewell

The Boy Poet

Standing at the brink of destiny holding his hand
before she leaves the words of goodbye must come
too many tears have gone for a sad farewell
too many years of heartbreak
too many discarded dreams
all lost and forgotten.
One last look to what was once living
and she lets go of his hand
she must fall away now
as he walks on into the future
for in her demise is his new beginning.

© JG Farmer 2014 Registered & Protected  N2IZ-GZDI-RWG9-85Q4

Note from the author: I have posted this early as I am attending The Laurels tomorrow.

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