My life in the main part is great. Never been better. I get a little bored at times, but the devil makes work for idle hands and I kind of like his shit.
I'm on hormones blah blah, nice tits blah blah, i'm out and make no secret of what I am etc etc. No need to throw any hero biscuits in my direction, its simply what I've chosen.
I have however worked a few things out after the events of the last week or so. Unknowingly I have created a life for myself which operates in a fairly safe environment. I am well known in the town as well as my locality on the outskirts of town. I am deemed as popular, well liked and well received on the whole. My parents enjoy visiting my local haunts and seeing how well received I am from locals there from many different demographics.
Be it in the roughest pubs in town, to pool halls, to wetherspoons, to the nicest and most expensive pub diners, everyone knows my name. But if you are a regular face about town this happens anyway, but more so when you look like I do.
Lifes great.
Don't get me wrong, I have been on the receiving end of vile vitriol on a couple of occasions specifically because of my apprearance. Unfortunately this is part and parcel of living this way in a society which is inhabited by people with varying levels of intelligence. This hasnt bothered me. Not one bit. In fact I've found it amusing. Don't get me wrong I did enjoy playing the victim card on one occasion, but I can be a little shit at times.
This time it was different. I was livid. I have played the incident back in my head and through conversation with others countless times. I did the right thing. Unfortunately I did the only thing I could do. In that situation I was fucked.
God bless Cameron for forcing the 16-18yr olds of this country to remain in education. A great idea to keep the unemployment figures down whilst saving the benefits system money under the guise of creating a more skilled workforce. Subsequently colleges are now being filled with not only people who want to be there but also a lot of kids who dont.
After a successful year at evening school last year, getting my beauty qualification, I thought I'd give hairdressing a go this year. But rather than do 2 evenings a week, which is hard as i get up early and go to bed early, I thought this time I'd do a day course. Jesus wept what an environment. It was the same college I attended last year but in the day it transforms into what I can only describe as a Young Offenders institute.
I wasn't dressed outrageous. Hipster jeans, fitted polo shirt, no wig or makeup. But my body is clearly something else.
I didn't feel at all comfortable. And by the time I got 'fucking bumbaclat tranny cunt' shouted out me by a gang of 6 or 7 black youths, you know the hoody types I realised it wasnt the best environment for me to be in.
I carried on walking, didnt look round and went back to my class. I couldnt concentrate too well in class. I was smarting. Maybe its because of my reputation when I was younger, maybe its because of the people I am known to sometimes associate with, but in town I don't get put in those situations. Now kids are cruel. They havent got a clue who I am or what my history is. They couldnt care less. I was just a fucking tranny cunt.
I have never felt so helpless and so vulnerable as I did then. I didnt feel scared as such I just felt weak. I couldnt concentrate in class and when my ex teacher from last year put her head round the class room door and asked how I was getting on I went off it. 'I just called a fuckin fuckin fuckin by some fuckin little fuckin' etc etc...OMG Ashley stop swearing. Bless her. Did you see who they were, can you describe them, do you want to make a complaint?
No. Whats the point? It won't stop them. It won't make them or others think differently. All it will do is make my situation potentially worse.
I left college that afternoon and went to the pub. Told my mates. OMG they laughed expecting me to tell them the punchline to the story was I went nuts at em. But I hadnt. I felt too weak. Unlike me I didnt stay in the pub long I just wanted to go home.
Thanks for phoning me at that time and asking how my day had gone Mum. That was it. Burst into tears. Managed to tell her it was OK i wasnt going back and there was nothing to worry about etc etc.
Fuck HRT. Fuck Oestrogen. I woke up the next day and started bawling again. So went into town and got pissed out of my nut. Was the only thing I could do to stop myself from crying. To make life fun again.
I'm OK now. What happened wasn't really that bad in the grand scheme of things it was nothing. I'm back at night school and its all over and done with and in the past.
But I have learned that once I step outside of this life that I have carefully contructed for myself I am vulnerable. I have also had my knowledge reinforced that HRT is some powerful shit.
I feel good and proud of myself that I have had the bollocks to get this far in my daft pursuit of femininity, but even for a tough cookie like me its far from easy.
So perhaps maybe some of those of you who are considering going down this path, please remember that how you feel dealing with situations when you are full of testosterone is so much different to how you deal with them when pumped full of oestrogen. Prejudicial cunts still exist in what is on the whole a lovely culture that we live in so don't like I did get fooled that just because you live in a nice accepting bubble there arent shitbags round the very next corner who are prepared to behave in a totally unacceptable manner.
By Mia Wallace 
