Intermission

Today* is the first anniversary of my very first ever surgery. And what a debut surgery it was. I've been in two minds about even mentioning it. One mind says
"So Dr.M had a rummage around your bits and knocked out a new set for you. So what?"
The other one sort of screams
"You have got to be fucking kidding me. It's your real birthday.Bitch!"

Now we have a string of celebrations in our house at the end of June/start of July so it's not like we need another one. At the same time it was a pretty significant event. It's not like I'm going to pretend it never happened.

What I am certain about is this. The surgery was the easy part. It didn't 'make' me a woman. Nor did it mark my defection from the world of Men. Both of these were achieved without the use of a scalpel. To attribute such things to surgery is false.Yet,for me, the operation was an absolute must. I knew in my heart that surgery itself would not grant me happiness but rather the freedom to pursue and achieve it. The last 12 months have been the living proof of my theory. None of this makes someone who chooses not to go under the knife any less 'genuine' or committed. We all have our own trail to blaze.

The hard part is moving in to your new life without the excuses. Without the built-in reason to suck. Freedom from that all-consuming compulsion and focus had me behaving like those trained pigeons you see in India. They are so accustomed to the chain they cannot conceive of life without it and behave as if they are still in fetters. I say 'had' and 'like' because I'm like so over that phase. Plus I'm no fucking pigeon.

To those who helped me close Volume One last year I offer my heartfelt thanks and love. If it seems I'm a little slow in opening Volume Two bear with me for a while longer. New shit is about to come to light.

* July 15th. I posted just after midnight on the East Coast but it's still the 14th on the other side of the country (where Blogger must live). Pesky time zones.