just me

Last Friday I had to take a train journey. Phoning for tickets I found that for an extra two pounds I could travel first class. Thus I decided to treat myself.
It was a journey in to another world.I entered the carriage, dressed in my normal winter travel gear when I go away walking, re, lightweight fleece bottoms, thermal top and my heavier winter jacket. I could feel peoples eyes following me, click click, click click, eyeballs trying to make out this strange creature in their hallowed domain. Most of the men, obviously business types, suited and booted, posh leather brief cases and expensive lap tops. The women, imaaculately dressed, make up put on to perfection, expensive jewelery. I felt positively dowdy, scruffy in comparison. With a fixed smile on my face I marched down the carriage to my seat. Eyebrows where raised when folk saw my battle scarred rucksack, veteran of a few hill walking sagas. Well, honestly, how on earth could I manage with a nice fancy suitcase when I go walking?
My self esteem, never that high, sank through the floor as I sank with a sigh in to my seat. All through the journey cultivated voices echoed up and down the carriage as business transactions continued non stop via mobile phone and other wonderful high tech gadgets. Mind, the free newspaper and cups of tea where welcome. It was nice too to be served with a smile and a 'would ma'am like milk with her tea'? Next time though I think I shall join the ranks of the many.

Since posting here on my blog and inviting people over to view my website, a few people have contacted me and asked why I am so up front about me and my past and where things are at present?
Well, in many respects, as difficult as it is, I personally feel it essential to be open and honest. Too often I have experienced hostility and in some ways it can be down to a person's lack of understanding. Although with a few it is down to immaturity and insecurity.
There have been times I have actually been threatened with physical violence. On occasion, in the early days of transition I have been refused accomodation when looking for b&b.
It has been a case of smile a lot and say nothing. Getting in to a confrontation solves nothing. If people are will to talk civilly I will answer their questions.
There have odd moments of humour too. Just after starting my transition period I had to oversee some builders. The young lad, so full of himself, really took the proverbial. However, he was rapidly put in his place by the older one. Later in the week, when the older builder was finishing the job on his own. He asked some very pointed and knowledgable questions about my situation. It transpired he was a cross dresser and swinger. It was a pity to have to turn down his invite to stay over at one of the swingers nights. I was genuinely curious, but in all honestly I would never have fitted in at that time. Mind, I am still curious.
As of now, having gone through the op, I am moving forward. Many things are a case of trial and error. My job may have to go. It is very demanding and I am finding it too tiring. Socially, it is the pits. Life has become solitary.
Writing wise, encouragement is filtering through. There are five short stories on my website, (Brenda Dawns Personal pages on google). Ant lady, I am trying to marry everything up. However, I need fresh ideas. Please, we all have our stories to tell, ladies, couple, I need yours too. A suggestion, or something that you would like to see written. Please free to contact me or nip over to my website. Any questions, feel at ease to ask and I will try to answer them. Thanks. Brenda Dawn.

well I must say you are a reticent bunch out there, I have written interesting (?) snippets, have begged and pleaded, have even invited you to my own personal website. Must I try bribary and corruption? It occurs to me that maybe everyone is a member of some sort of lay order that has a vow of silence to those that are not members. One very nice person has encouraged me to keep plodding on.
Currently I have been transferring short stories from my files on to my web pages.To do this I have had to go the long way round. printing them out, re working on to the web page and then printing from the web pages back to file. Looking at me work I see some glaring errors but these will be rctified. After all, I am only an amateur, currently putting out material for peoples enjoyment. At present this has meant a major effort of five am rises. Ladies, couples, I want your stories. Drop in and visit,I can be found on google on Brenda Dawns personal pages. pretty please

Come on, give a girl a break. For a while now I have been tapping away at the keyboard. There are now a few stories out on my web pages, re, Brenda Dawns personal pages. Finally I feel I am starting to get things right. However, there is a problem. There is an urgent need for fresh material. I need your stories, women and couples are welcome to contact me. Please feel at ease to ask questions, be critical or make suggestions for changes to the material that is already written etc. In fact I shall be going back over those pieces to reconstruct parts anyway. Look forward to hearing from you and thanks.

Just for once I thought I would try to write something different. A few extracts from log books I used to keep when I was away walking. This one from a trip to the La Sierra De Gredos mountain range in central Spain last January. A group of us had driven to the roadhead car park. The cars sliding in the icy conditions. It was cold and there was no encourgament to linger. Quickly we kitted up. Our intentions where to split in to two groups. I would be walking with Dave. We knew the others would be moving faster and they had planned a long route. Dave and myself had chosen a high top that in theory would be closer and easier to reach. Times that we would all meet up at the carpark where agreed apon. We carried mobiles phones, wprapped up and thrust deep in our rucksacks to preserve batteries. Not so much to call rescue services if there was an emergency, but to use as a form of radio communication between us if something did happen. Ironically, we had to use crampons to follow the path up out of the car park. It was coated in sheet ice. We stopped further up to take them off when we hit snow. The weather was poor, visibility none too good, the temperature at around freezing. A quick check of the map and we swung off the main path that crossed the plateau we where on. It was used quite extensively and was well defined. The path we turned off on was not. A cairn marked the turn and further on we found a few more. Often though it was a case of check map and compass. As we plodded upwards I felt a few twinges of concern about Dave, he moved slower than me and often in deeper snow I had to break trail. Our first main point of reference was an old, ruined mountain hut. We stopped here for a much needed break, sheltered from a steady wind by one of the ruins walls. Going for a pee was a cold and arduous task. Dave assured me he was feeling fine and was keen to push on. Slowly we came to a broad flat saddle that sat between two hills. The wind by now was rising and the temperature dropping. The push now was up a steep wide gully. There was now no choice, I had to take the lead. As the ground steepened I began to use my ice axe to cut large steps for Dave. Swing, scoop, kick with the boot, thrust upwards. It was hard, physical work. The thinner atmosphere was also making itself felt. At times I had lean on my ice axe to rest for a moment and regain my breath.. As we came out on to the ridge a blast of wind almost lifted me off my feet and it was obvious that a storm was brewing. We stopped just a few feet from the summit at around two thousand five hundred metres. Things where becoming hazardous and I was aware that one side of the ridge had a sheer drop that went an awful long way down. As we plunged down the gully I noticed that our tracks from our ascent were almost obliterated already. Dave took over the lead for which I was thankful. The long haul upwards had left me tired. We hurried across the broad saddle in swirling snow and began to climb. A few twinges of concern flitted through my mind. the ground appeared steeper than I remembered when we had come the other way. This was soon confirmed when we hit a low top that sat across the other side of the saddle. We huddled together for a quick check of the compass. Dave assured me he now knew where we where and let off. Suddenly alarm bells began to ring in my head. The wind which had been blowing from one direction appeared to be blowing from another and the ground had started to fall away steeply. Unhappy I called a stop. Spanish maps are not that well defined but with careful checks of the compass it was obvious we had headed off in the wrong direction and where on steep and dangerous ground. Backtracking carefully we headed in the general direction of the saddle. by now a storm was raging, visibilty almost nill. Swirling Snow and ice made the going difficult. Suddenly we stumbled over the lip of a drop. Kneeling, with our backs to the howling wind, I double checked the compass. Roughly speaking, I know knew our location, the head wall of a steep valley the other side of the way we had ascended. If we could pick our way down it would lead us back to the main path across the plateau. Visiblity was so poor I had to throw snowballs to check where the ground was. Once over the lip of the headwall at least we where out of the main blast of the wind. This though was very steep ground. The situation was very risky but we had little option but head downwards. Like an old hound trying to find a scent, I criss crossed the slope attempting to find the safest line of descent. According to the map, a footpath made it's way up through here somewhere. That would be ok in summer but this was the dead of winter. It did indicate though that a way down was feasible in theory. Dave was far from happy. He had checked the compass and was certain we where off route. In many respects the compass was of little help here. When we did attempt to follow a direct compass bearing it led us to a jumble of rock with nothing visible below them. I kept to our route and gradually a pattern emerged. by crossing back and forward I was able to define that we where in a steep gully and thhat on either side the ground was even steeper. Dave now admitted he was out of his depth. the route finding was down to me. At one point I plunged in waist deep in soft snow. Ramming my ice axe in I tried to assess the situation. it appeared that I was in a deep, snow filled scoop in the gully. That was very scary. This was very typical avalanche potential. More people have been killed on descents in hillwalking and mountaineering than ascents. Struggling out of the deep snow, Dave and I picked our way around and eased down through a mass of ice covered, jagged rocks. Visibility had eased a bit and I could see a little of the way ahead. We where both very tired. In a dire emergency we could have stopped,dug in to the snow for shelter and waited out the storm. That would have been only an extreme last resort, although we did carry survival equipment. More heartstopping moments foolowed as we plunged on down. Suddenly, instinctively, we sensed the steep ground easing off. no longer where we peering down through our boots. The slope was actually stretched out in front of us. At last some semblance of flat ground. Dave yelled at me that we where standing on ice. A thrust with the ice axe, indeed there was a sheet of thick ice below us. Confirmation that we had come down where I had thought we would. We where standing on the ice of two small pools that lay at the foot of the valley headwall. Suddenly we popped out of the cloud and murk and could actually see the valley stretching away before us. Further down we stopped for a much needed break and managed to contact the other party to inform them we would be late. They had already arrived back at the car and had been surprised that we had not been there. It took time to pick our route down through the valley. Deep snow lay in some place and often we plunged in deep and had to struggle to extract ourselves. There was also a river to contend with. Further up it had been totally frozen, as we descended it flowed sluggishly down the valley floor. At times coverd by banks of snow. Dave managed to plunge throw one thin crust of water worn ice but was ok. It was sheer joy when we eventually hit the main path across the plateau. Once more we had to stop and put on crampons to move across sheets of water ice. Dave by now was flagging badly and felt a sense of guilt for nagging him, chivvying him on. It was getting late and almost dark. We arrived back at the car park some three hours later than intended. My hair was a tangled mess of icicle dreadlocks, my rucksack sheathed in ice. Dave did not look much better and we where exausted. One of the party had kindly waited for us and she was very relieved to see us emerge out of the gloom. A quick phone call to the others to let them know we where ok, everything bundled in to the boot of the car as quick as possible and we headed out. A few scary moments as the car fishtailed on the icy road but we eventually got back to our digs for a very welcome bath, a change of clothes, a hot meal and welcoming open fire.

My times alone, nights, can stretch and seem long. Often I wake during the night, random thoughts flooding my mind. During the day I bury myself in busyness. The realisation that life has become narrow, confined. After surgery I spent almost three months in my flat, alone. Something I have said before but it still holds true, I feel that I stand on the periphery of society of society looking in. many times I have attempted to reach out, to bridge the gap but the gulf between seems just to grow wider. On occasions it has meant pain. Earlier experiences in life have meant that my social ability is limited, often I miss the non verbal cues. I talk away over trivial things but when it gets down to the nitty gritty of social understanding, of people, of relationships, I fall short. Let me give an example, love, what is it? People doing people things? Holding hands, caring for each other, sharing those sweet,intimate moments? Being tender, kissing, cuddling,,arguing, agreeing, disagreeing, being held, holding? Sorry, those things are alien things to me, I am bewildered by them. Indeed, at times people scare me. Where do I stand, cynical, angry, emotional? Indeed I question, why bother? Men I am wary of, certainly I am not as bad as I once was, but at times I find them a bit scary. Another woman? someone who could tolerate my foibles, just generally accept things as they are with me. Maybe, maybe not.
At present I continue to write. An ongoing giving of myself. As yet I am uncertain how folk are reacting to my writing, as normal I suggest they nip over to my web pages, Brenda Dwns personal pages,. As always I am on the lookout for new material. Paradoxically I actually want to write about people, their experiences, there fantasies, their hopes and dreams. I have even considered advertising for women to interview, offering say a twenty pound fee for a decent interview. Feedback if you please. Always feel free to ask questions or contact me.

Well, I have been working away for a little while now posting out blogs. trying to reach out to people wherever out there. Attempting to share, to be open and honest. To be willing to put things on the line. So far to little avail. A total of four positive reactions and two very negative and hostile is all the feedback I have so far recieved. It does raise the point, is there anyone out there?
taking a deep breath I even threw open my web site to people, Brenda Dawns personal pages, though I was quite reluctant to allow blokes there. In all honesty I am trying to bridge the large gaps in my life. Now I wonder, do we live in such a cold, impersonal society that no one can be bothered anymore?
Ok, I know that sounds bitter and I am trying to put the anger and bitterness of my past behind me. So, a brief mention, story number four has just been put out on my website. Attempting to write each day has involved a discipline of getting up at five am, eeeekkkk!
On a totally different note. Having a few problem following my operation my gp advised me stop taking daily saline baths and proscribed potassium permanganate. 'Just sprinkle some in the bath water,' is what I was told. 'It may turn the water pink but do not worry' Pink? The water turned a plum coloured purple. Scary, and with some trepidation I braved it. Seemed to be alright, untill I got out of the bath. My skin had turned a blotchy brown colour. It looked like I had been rolling in curry sauce. It also came off on the bath towel and my skin remained the same for several days. When the bath emptied it too was stained the same sort of colour, which needs bleach to remove. My bathmat has turned black too. Ah such trial and tribulations!! Oh and another point, never leave the tube of KY jelly near the toothpaste, please be assured, it does not taste nice. As always, I welcome feedback and would love to hear from folks out there and ladies, please, I need fresh material for new stories to be posted out. Thanks. Brenda dawn

As I have mentioned both here and on my website, I am a post op transgender. Some of the misconceptions are surprising, some I think are through people just not understanding. Just recently I recieved an e mail from a guy who had visited my website. 'Surely though the op is just a quick snip!' was hisunderstanding of things. Well the actual operation is far more complex than that. It is considered major surgery and there are risks involved. Basically I have fashioned a complete vagina. In theory I can have full penatrative sex. Indeed, quite a few who have had the op do so quite easily and happily. It is after surgery that the work begins.After six days an internal pack is removed, and it hurts. This is initially left in to keep the new vagina open. When it was removed I was presented with two dilators, one thin, one much thicker. They look similar to a vibrator, however, these are made of clear medical grade plastic. I took one look at them thinking, 'no way, absolutely no way am I going to get those into me. They are used to keep the vagina open and to keep things flexible. It was sore and uncomfortable for some time afterwards and even today I am still having some problems. Some people think once surgery is over everything is done and dusted. Well, not quite, to start with I had to dilate three times a day. at first I still had masses of stiching in, I was on my own, there is no help service, no visiting nurse. it is a case of sitting in my flat and making the best of it. Fifteen minutes with the thin dilator, twenty with the big one. Much time is spent clock watching. Lying on my bed timing things, I try reading, watching tv, anything. My eyes are drawn back to the clock, surely I have been going now for the full length of time? Nope, only five minutes have passed. Lubricant is something I have to use. suffling down to the local chemist, unsure how much KY jelly to buy I end buying a dozen tubes, strange, but folks sort of backed away from me and there was a raised eyebrow at the till. Now I am dilating twice a day. One of main interests is hill walking. At present I am trying to get my head around how I am going to manage my dilations in a tent? Oh and by the way, being gender disphoric is not considered a mental illness. Another popular misconception. Really, I am just a normal person. If anyone reads this, wants to ask questions, please free to do so. Fell free to visit my website as well. Look it up on google, brenda dawns personal pages. it would be nice to hear from a few folks out there and thanks for reading my scribblings.

Well folks, I know it has been the festive season and everything, but I must admit I am a little disappointed by people's responses out there. It is an unfortunate thing but my life currently is a tad reclusive. Looking to widen my horizons I set up my own website, to which you are all welcome to visit. Going a step further I started my own blogs. The response I have had are two very encouraging and one severely critical. For the new year I am trying to write an average of at least a thousand words per day. Now then, this is where you folks come in, ladies especially, (it is my lesbian leanings), mainly I write with the goal of my short stories being for women. Ok, what does it for you? No matter if it seems ordinary, or strange, or different, whatever. I need fresh ideas. You can message via the blog site, or visit my web pages, 'Brenda Dawns personal pages' or http://www.brendadawn.org/ should find me. If you do visit, comments on the short stories there are welcome. Hopefully i will transfer a few more over soon.

Sitting here at the keyboard I am trying to not give way to a fit of giggles. I received an e mail from a very irate lady. it seems she sawmy blog where I mentioned about massage. Oh tut tut, I suggested it should be done naked. To compound the felony this woman then decided to check out my website. Shock, horror, my own history, which I am openly honest about, condemns me. The stories I have put out there, for everyone's enjoyment, this dear woman considers them debased. why? well, I pictured women, throwing off their clothes and dancing, out of doors too, if you please! it appears that I am treating women and their bodies with contempt, that I am preaching immorality, lewdness and depravity. Wow, I am impressed.
Now then, for a start, my life is my life. I have fought long and hard to get where I am today. It has come at a high price. There are still big gaps, especially when it comes to relationships. Unfortunately I find dealing with people scary. When it comes to things sexual then things are very difficult. Check out my website for yourselfs and you may understand why. One thing I am not though is some puritanical, narrow minded prude. It comes hard sometimes but I try to accept all people as they are. The stories I have written are for the pleasure of others. It is a giving of myself, a gift if you will. Now then, my first story was sheer fantasy, a fantasy someone once shared with me. The second story is the same. However, I would agree it needs work done on it. It is bitty and fails to run smoothly. Suggestions would be welcome please. The third story was my special baby. I worked long and hard on that one. This woman has been especially critical of this particular story. Why? Because, in her words I am promoting paganism! Whoa there a moment the story revolves around Avril, who, as I have indicated in the story, is Wicca. Slightly different conotation altogether. The fact that she worships nature, talks to trees, dances naked etc. Oh how, awful how terrible. Rubbish woman. I stand by what I have written. the story of Avril is a melding of fantasy, of believe and historical fact. A question I would like to put to this dear lady, why, if you thought my blog was distasteful, did you venture to my website? Also, I would ask, having got to website, why did you spend so much time, not only reading my own personal history, but going on and reading all three of my stories? You condemn me but I would go as far as to suggest there is something very hypocritical in your condemnation. If you have no liking for my ways then so be it. But at least I am honest and upfront about myself, warts and all. Point a finger at me and you have three pointing back at yourself. Judge not lest ye be judged.Oh and by the way, I have danced naked out of doors, have swam naked in wild mountain pools and have enjoyed every moment of. The naked body is a thing of beauty, there should be no shame in it. Oh and by the way, I have more stories lined up. Indeed, if when follk contact me then I shall write them too.

hello there, wishing everyone a happy new year.
Today is a quiet day, sitting here on my own in my tiny shoe box of a flat. Several times I have gone through the short stories I have documented. Really, i want to get them out on to my web site. Somehow though, I cannot settle. I really need fresh ideas and am hoping some folk will visit soon and e mail me with their suggestions. One e mail I did recieve, unfortunatly they only wanted a few ideas themselves concerning massage. For me massage is an intensly private thing. here I am talking about massage between two people that are close. Intimate massage, sensual, using using assential oils, massage that involves the whole body. Contrary to some people's concepts, alcohol should not be taken. it counteracts the effect of the oils. Candles, scented, a warm room, ideally it should be done naked, but the comfort of the receiver is essential.The one administering maybe ought to wear a loose wrap. Phones, turn them off. Allow time, guys, giving massage can be sexy, however, concentrate on your partner, curb your own feelings. Give of yourself and give lovingly. Begin at the extremities of the body. Before even starting, relax, make sure your hands are warm and supple. Approach your partner slowly, reverently and gently.
But hey, people get out there and experiment, give your partner a treat, spice up your love life and enjoy.

I look forward to hearing from you, and for want of repeating myself, you are welcome to visit my web pages.