A Small Matter of Cherries

I spent all my first day as a transitioned woman smiling.  Some friends think it must have been the patient controlled analgesia. Coming round after surgery I was offered morphine self dosing PCA. I remember looking across at the wall clock and noticing that it was 10.45 am; I’d been in surgery for only two and a half hours. Somehow it seemed like a lifetime: An eternity since I’d walked; wearing a hospital gown, up to the ninth floor.  I felt detached even from recent memories, from lying flat on my back in theatre, listening to the anaesthetist explaining everything that could go wrong; asking me to sign my life away. As it happens the PCA self dosing made me feel incredibly sick.  The pain wasn’t really that bad so I left off the morphine. Over the next 48 hours I only used it 4 times. Even so, that first day, my mind experienced an incredible release.  It’s the only way I can describe it. It felt wonderful to have finally escaped the bonds tying me to a life I’d hated and which never felt like mine anyway.  I’d done it, or rather Mr Bellringer and his team had. The best part about it was, there was no going back!

I had expected incredible discomfort and a truly horrendous time.  Aged 7 I had a burst appendix and peritonitis.  I went through the most immense pain and stayed in hospital for over 3 weeks. I couldn’t walk properly for ever so long. Gender Reassignment Surgery surprised me.  I was amazed at how soon I was walking and climbing stairs again.  Dilation was only really painful for about two weeks; after that it began to seem comfortable and on occasions even pleasurable. Having 3 times daily dilations and wearing sanitary pads though tends to leave you in no doubt that you have a vagina. The conviction comes, in spite of the novel feeling you get when medical staff refer to ‘your vagina’ or examine you ‘down there’. Learning how to look after a new part of your body and even learning to pee again are all daily reminders that you have changed in a new and very welcome way. Intense clitoral soreness slowly subsides leaving pleasant feelings: Playing on a swing in the Park (yes I’m just a big kid really) felt WA-A-AY different.

On my first day after surgery, the one thing I couldn’t imagine was getting my little head around sex; intercourse to be precise.  The idea of becoming aroused and being penetrated by a guy seemed like an utter turn off. I felt like a girl being told what big boys and girls do in bed: I couldn’t comprehend that ever happening to me.  Silly I know but in the early days I took a dressmaker’s tape and measured 6” up my tummy from my vulva.  I’m only a small girl and OMG if I had sex with a guy I was going to be well and truly impaled! Ouch!

Don’t get me wrong. I’m incredibly attracted to guys.  I always have been.  The thought of being romanced, warmly entwined in some man’s arms, being kissed, caressed and fondled was really really enticing. Sadly, the encounters I had with men, pre-op weren’t like that at all. I don’t want to revisit those memories but I do know they weren’t filled with warmth, love and pleasure. I had lost any confidence in ever finding true love in a relationship and probably, if I dare to admit it, confidence in myself. Yet I knew I had to get out there and try.  As I recovered I had a growing feeling that if I didn’t venture anything now I would never have the confidence to love again.

Dating sites; especially those aimed at MtF girls yielded LOTS of interest (at least for guys wanting to date me). It was very much a ‘bees around a honeypot’ situation. Flirting online felt safe but almost certainly wasn’t. I did it anyway: It seemed safer than dating guys physically. After weeks of ‘camming’, sexting, ‘skyping’ and eventually dating I was still no nearer real intimacy.  I had phone sex and orgasms, indecent suggestions and bizarre requests.  This was going nowhere.  A really gentle guy from down South wanted to meet me half way geographically then didn’t want to meet me half way.  ‘I’m not sure I’m up for sex with a virgin’ he said rather unromantically…….Then I met Martin.

I had already known him, at least as Tina but meeting the guy I now share my life with was so different. I fell in love with those entrancing brown eyes, his dark hair, that tall, sporty handsome physique and was totally hooked.  I couldn’t resist his adventurous spirit, his ‘why not?’ ‘let’s do it!’ personality and his sense of humour. From our first kiss I was amazed at how gentle he was with me, how protective and how caring.  I’d never had anyone treat me that way before; valuing me as a person, a woman and not as a prize or an object.  I’ve always felt vulnerable and exposed in love and nobody has ever reassured me like that before or made me feel safe like he does.

So, as it happens, last summer was my very first time. Losing my virginity: Cherries and green trees. It was in woodland not far away from the sea. The rain was coming down and it gave me the most romantic feeling ever. There was something utterly sensual, abandoned and gorgeous about making love amongst those trees; summer rain cascading down and my clothes scattered on the ground around me. Totally bound up in him and he in me; his coat around me and his lips on mine: I will always remember that moment.  Just as precious was his kindness, gentleness, consideration and sensitivity.  If ever I had any doubts about loving him, they were gone in that moment. 

There have been so many times since last summer. With each and every occasion, it has been just as beautiful, caring and erotic. I’m still young and naive when it comes to intimacy so I’m deeply grateful to have found such a wonderful partner; someone to learn and to grow with. I can’t think of anybody more lovely than Martin to have guided me from being a girl into womanhood.

Hugs, Jane xx