Inner Demons, AKA "Journals of an Angry Trans Gurl"
© 2017 Haylee V

* This is a true account of my life experiences. All persons portrayed in this story are based on actual people I've met throughout my life, and the events portrayed actually happened. No malice is intended to those individuals involved, and names have been altered to protect the identities of the people portrayed. *

Inner Demons, AKA "Journals of an Angry Trans Gurl"
© 2017 Haylee V

* This is a true account of my life experiences. All persons portrayed in this story are based on actual people I've met throughout my life, and the events portrayed actually happened. No malice is intended to those individuals involved, and names have been altered to protect the identities of the people portrayed. *

Inner Demons, AKA "Journals of an Angry Trans Gurl"
© 2017 Haylee V

* This is a true account of my life experiences. All persons portrayed in this story are based on actual people I've met throughout my life, and the events portrayed actually happened. No malice is intended to those individuals involved, and names have been altered to protect the identities of the people portrayed. *

Inner Demons, AKA "Journals of an Angry Trans Gurl"
© 2017 Haylee V

* This is a true account of my life experiences. All persons portrayed in this story are based on actual people I've met throughout my life, and the events portrayed actually happened to me or someone close to me. No malice is intended to those individuals involved, and names have been altered to protect the identities of the people portrayed. *

Dark days

White horses dancing on the waves - the young woman looks out of the window towards the lake a sad smile on her face - her mind elsewhere as she ponders her last phone call a few days ago to a old friend...

The words " it would be better if you was not so out about your lifestyle to others "  showing just how little her well meaning friend understands things - just like the question "why can't you just stay the same?"  when she was first coming out to her friend as transgender - some times one has to rock the boat even if doing so makes others uncomfortable...

Backwards in High Heels:
More Missty Memories

© 2016 by Nom de Plume

The most romantic evening of my life, as man or woman.

She was living in her parents' house. Not earning nearly enough money. She sometimes felt that the pronoun was undeserved, she hadn't done enough to earn it. Hormones for a year and her appearance basically hadn't changed. People in stories always changed extremely. Transformed beyond recognition. They got desirable female figures, dyed their hair blonde, wore makeup and dresses. Even the nonfiction stories the press seemed to pick up, the people they seemed to be interested in, were like that. Look at these before and after pictures, it's amazing how much the person changed.

Ok so this is the way I see it. Every one has a preconceived notion of how boy's and girl's are supposed to act. But what if you cannot be what society expected? My parents raised all us kids in the best way they knew. We were poor and my Dad worked every hour he could! His day started at 4am when Mom made his breakfast and packed his lunch before his two hour drive to work . So after that mom turned into super mom and got eight kids ready for the day. And after breakfast and all kids are off to school she made the beds did dishes and cleaned the house.

This is my story of my transition from a teenage boy with not a care in the world to the middle age woman I am today.

My story starts in the South East of England in 1985 when I was just 17

Hope you enjoy

Lucy J

My Life of Leotards, Lingerie, and More

By Pacific Chris

The following is a true story, true in every way, except the names have been changed and the conversations have been paraphrased.

Part 4 – My Sister

So, things were going pretty good, even though I never had an actual orgasm (not that I knew what one was). But when I was 12, something great came into my life… Jane Fonda and the aerobics craze.

Dreams of my past life.

I remember seeing *Akira Kurosawa's Dreams* a few years back and thinking what a senile mess it seemed, despite some incredible imagery. Dreams are incomprehensible except to the dreamer because they lack a context. The great surrealist artists, writers and film-makers manage to grab fleeting meaning from them and turn them into works that transcend their gibberish origins by recontextualising them in line with the concerns of their body of work.

So, I found a folder called "dreams" on my archive hard drive recently. I have as you know, always had trouble sleeping and often wake up at night having had vivid dreams. I went through a phase of writing them down in the 90s as a basis for more finished pieces of writing. This period is when this selection originated. There are many film references here - I was an aspiring film maker at the time.

Like I said, they are raw and probably gibberish and I'm not sure you'll gain anything from reading them, but I like some of the writing here. It's compact and sparse, and I found some of it funny, reading them back all these years later.

No specific TG content.

Chapter 13 - “A gift from God”

Giving myself a female name marked a huge turn-around in my attitude towards my drive toward the feminine.

Chapter 11 - A child is born

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made Chapter 9 - “Black Friday” and other disasters

Things actually started off well.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made Chapter 7: The last hurrah

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made Chapter 5: High school low

Am I Dangerous?

I asked my friends to describe me, and most of the adjectives they used were positive ones.

Vital Statistics

“Honey, can you come here for a minute? “

“What is it, dear?”

“When ... did I get breasts?”

Long pause ...

Chapter One — Discovery.

About fifteen or twenty years ago, I used to travel around greater Boston looking for places that would be friendly when I shopped for my women’s wardrobe items.

I was always discreet and usually wore panties, a bra and luscious stockings or pantyhose under my male clothes. I found several Lady Grace stores that were reasonably hospitable to a cross dressing experimenter such as me.

These were several places that were fun to go to, where the women (and occasionally a man) salespeople were friendly and accommodating. But the selection, while definitely womanly, many times was a bit disappointing.

Then one year I found a very special store in Attleborough, Massachusetts. It was primarily a lingerie store. It was very old fashioned, with plenty of vintage garments, and thousands of pairs of pantyhose and real stockings, as I was told on the phone when I called and spoke with the owner, Anita ...

Voiceless

I must have been voiceless.

How else can I explain that no one heard me screaming?

You, my teacher, who got after me for being distracted.

Glimpses

You can blame Jaci for this one. Its the conversations we’ve had that led to this ...

At first, there were only glimpses.

Let me tell you a story ....

Author's note: This is a tough story with some strong themes, including an attempt at suicide. Please read with care