Everything feels so natural these days. Getting dressed, applying makeup, casting a critical eye in the mirror and packing my handbag. And that’s even before I open the front door and step into the outside world as, to all intents and purposes, the woman I’ve always wished I’d been. Activities that once the very idea of filled me with terror are now second nature. I’ll happy order myself a tea and pastry in a café, ask for a table at a restaurant and even seek advice on makeup from the wonderful sales assistants on the cosmetics counters who have forgotten far more about makeup than I could ever hope to learn. I walk amongst others without a care in the world, even when I spot someone having a sly sideways glance my way.
And all the time I’m smiling to myself for one simple reason – I really am living the dream.
But paradoxically, until recently I had no idea what the dream actually was.
As regular readers will know, I can trace my CDing back to the fateful day around half a century ago when I ventured into my parents’ bedroom and found a pair of my mother’s tights in a heap on the floor. Even 50 years on, I still have vivid memories of that day and I can categorically state that the urge to try them on was not driven by some feeling that, by doing so, I’d magically become a girl. And in the years preceding that day, I never once prayed that I’d wake up the following day as a girl. In fact, I think it was an idea that would have horrified me!
But as soon as I had dipped a toe into the feminine pool, Pandora’s Box was well and truly opened. I quickly became fascinated by the whole idea of ‘sex change’ operations and particularly those who had undergone them. It was the story of Jan Morris that first piqued my interest but people like April Ashley, Amanda Lear and, later, Caroline Cossey that I envied. These were not just guys who’d become women but guys who’d become beautiful women. Did I dream that one day I’d be following in their footsteps down the one way street to womanhood? It was an intoxicating proposition but something deep inside me would remind me, at opportune moments, that this was not the right answer for me.
There was certainly a fear factor in that – Britain in the late 1970s and early 1980s was certainly not as accepting of gender variance as it is now. But more significant was the gulf I perceived between myself, a male, and womanhood. Even when I took a deep breath and bought clothes of my own, I never really felt that I was crossing over the divide, just wearing things that made me feel good.
So if there was a dream, it was probably a dream that all of this would just go away and I could be a normal guy with an interest in women for all the right reasons. And for a while, that particular dream came true. I met and married Mrs A and all of a sudden there was someone in my life who looked far better in women’s clothes than I could ever hope to, the past was forgotten and it just didn’t feature in the present.
But as we all know, this never goes away and slowly the urges crept back. And if anything, that heightened the dream that I could be rid of it all because whenever the subject of transgenderism, as we now call it, arose (perhaps by way of a newspaper article, TV programme or just general conversation) I’d feel a sense of panic stirring inside me in case I gave the game away.
It would be 18 years of marriage before the urges got the better of me and I went shopping for a dress, a pair of heels and underwear together with a cheap wig from a party shop. The dream there was quite straightforward – those items were going to make me look like a woman to rival April, Amanda L, Caroline and all of the other trans beauties that I’d become aware of by that time. The reality, needless to say, was somewhat different and so began a litany of buy-wear-purge cycles in which items were bought, worn, failed to live up to their promise and dispensed with out of a combination of disappointment, guilt and fear.
It would be mid-2019 before things finally started to fall into place. I had endured a five year hiatus under threat of the marriage ending but things were boiling over and I capitalised on the absence of Mrs A and our kids to pick up where I’d left off. I took photos and while they look nothing like the Amanda that you would recognise I started to feel that I was at last uncovering the inner woman.
I wouldn’t say this was a dream but rather a persistent wish but for a long time I had this nagging feeling that I wanted, or needed, to know what I would look like as a woman. I’m not talking about throwing on a few clothes and a dab of lipstick but being transformed into the best possible representation of womanhood that was possible to achieve on me. Back in the 1980s, I’d wondered about going to the ‘Transformation’ shop in Euston, London which was part of a specialist chain of shops catering for CDers. They offered what they branded a ‘Changeaway’ where clients could be made up and then spend a few hours en femme but whilst I phoned to enquire a couple of times, I never followed through. But by the early 2020s, I became aware of Boys Will Be Girls, a makeover service in London which seemed to be a rite of passage for all CDers. I was active on Flickr and it seemed like every day another girl would post photos from her session at BWBG and the results were absolutely stunning. If I was ever going to get my question answered, this was the place where that answer would come from.
Even that wasn’t straightforward. I contacted Cindy, the proprietor, on two occasions but got cold feet both times. It was only in August 2021 that I contacted her for a third time and, in a mad moment, booked a four-hour session for £300 (it’s now gone up to £490). In the four weeks between booking and turning up at Cindy’s flat on 21 September 2021, I had panic attacks and doubts about the whole thing and even when I rang her doorbell, I was still not convinced it was a good idea. You can read about my experience in ‘The Magic of a Makeover’ which was actually my first Kandi’s Land post and whilst the quality of the transformation was never going to be in doubt, it was my first taste of acceptance from someone else. Of course, with Cindy being trans herself, that was a given but to be able to sit and just talk to someone both in a feminine persona and about it was transformative.
And that’s really where the dream that I talked about at the beginning of this post was propagated. It wasn’t the moment that Amanda burst onto the scene – the three looks from the day look nothing like the Amanda of now – but it was the moment that I realised that whatever it was that was going on inside me was worth pursuing.
The Amanda you would recognise today emerged in early 2023 and the I related the story of how that happened in ‘OMG , It’s Me’. Finally, I was able to look in the mirror without being either disappointed or seeing the unattainable image of myself that Cindy had created. I was just looking at me and every time I had the opportunity to retrieve the stash, I saw the same person looking back. And then the dreams started coming thick and fast. I dreamed that I could step into the outside world. And when I’d done that, I dreamed that I could walk amongst others. And when I’d done that, interacting with others became the dream. And so on.
But even those don’t really describe the dream that I now feel I’m living but struggled for so long to identify. That dream can be summed up in a few words – the dream to be me – but takes many more to properly articulate.
Paradoxically it’s the realisation that what I’m doing is no longer fuelled by dreams that made me realise I’m living the dream. I no longer need to dream about what it would be like to be in the outside world or dream that I had the fortitude to open the front door and walk out. These days it feels natural and sometimes I actually have to force myself not to do it. I no longer need to dream about having the guts to walk up to someone and interact with them. Once again, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. I no longer have to look in the mirror and dream about what it would be like to wear this outfit for a trip to the shops or dress up in that outfit for dinner. They are realities. I no longer have to dream about what it would be like to traverse that gulf between my life and womanhood. Nowadays that gulf has shrunk to almost nothing. And I no longer have to dream about how happy I could be if I could experience life as the person I’ve always wished I’d been. Nowadays, the experience of that happiness is a reality.
And that’s the thing. I now know that there’s nothing stopping me from bringing any one of those dreams to reality other than my own preferences and needs. Whilst even the most skilled of surgeons could never turn me into a beauty to rival April, Amanda L, Caroline et al, that no longer matters. All that matters to me is that I no longer see closed doors wherever I look; every door is now open and it’s up to me whether I walk through. Some I have long since walked through, others I am contemplating at the moment and others I will never walk through out of choice rather than necessity. And that’s what living the dream gives us the power to do.
18 Responses
Oh Amanda, so much if what you have written captures my inner woman precisely. Thank you.
I am no where near were you are being out publicly. I have numerous reasons that hold me back, yet the longing to “just be me”, to relate to others and to be related to as Charlene becomes more & more focused.
Unlike you, I have never identified as a crossdresser. Crossdressing, though feeling natural & right because it is a genuine expression of my inner feminine self, is also anticlimactic for me because I clearly understand that looking like a woman doesn’t make me one. To be sure neither would hormones or surgery, but they certainly would provide body / soul alignment that I imagine based on a myriad if others testimonies would give the inner peace I have sought for since I was 5 years old.
I am delighted that you have journeyed to the point that your own expression of womanhood is real & natural. And thank you for your writings here. In them I find the “real” that I desire. To me your writings are void of the “glamorpuss” image that so many seek to project. In your writing I find a real man dealing with a very real condition in the best way possible to provide both the feminine expression so essential as a trans person while concerned deeply that your wife and family be adversely affected as little as possible. As that is also my desire I find much help in your writings. Thank you.
Kindly,
Charlene
Charlene, firstly thank you for writing one of the most touching and heartfelt comments I have received in my time here. It means a lot to know that what I write resonates with others.
I’m very much of the view that how we identify is irrelevant in the overall scheme of things and how society identifies us is the only thing that really matters. Society owes us nothing other than what is provided for under equality laws and yet there are any number of individuals, particularly women, out there who will reward our efforts to conform in ways we never dared dream possible. I’m well aware that much of the positivity I have experienced was driven by the other person’s desire to display their diversity credentials – and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that – but from time to time, someone will for example say they love my outfit not because I’m a guy and they want me to feel good but because, quite simply, they love the outfit! And it’s those times that make all of the frustrations and struggles worthwhile. As you say, looking like a woman doesn’t make us one but it can help society treat us as one if it deems us worthy and ultimately that’s all we can ever ask for.
Another thing that I’ve come to realise is that Amanda is a product of my maleness and, at the risk of causing a lot of unrest, I think that’s true for all of us. Without lived experience as a natal female to guide us, all of the influences that have shaped our evolution have been viewed from over the fence, so to speak. Even the mere act of transforming myself requires a conscious mental shift – these days I find it increasingly easy to slip into Amanda’s facet of my personality – perhaps it’s analagous to being bilingual but even then whilst we may understand the question regardless of its language, we still have to remember which language to answer in (not that I’m bilingual but my wife is and there have been times when she’s asked me something in her native tongue and I haven’t had a clue what she was saying!).
I hope you will find the opportunity to spread your wings in the outside world and overcome the barriers. I have to confess that in my normal life I’m an introverted loner – I’m the one in the corner answering imaginary messages on my mobile phone rather than trying to mix with people I don’t know – but uncovering the inner woman has been a revelation. As her, I don’t fear being seen by others and whilst it wasn’t an overnight thing, the more I went out, the more I realised that the fears I had were groundless. In the end, most people will accept us unless we give them a good reason not to.
Thank you again for the lovely comment.
Amanda,
Sometimes when we make our dreams a reality is it a reality or sheer madness ? The big question even for me is why isn’t it ever enough ? We just can’t help ourselves we are forever trying to open new doors , even at 75 and being full time you’d think I’d be satisfied . In a reply to Kandi I commented that so many more doors are available to us once we’ve crossed the reality/acceptance barrier , when we discover we are free to be US without comment or hatred . Next year I’m really excited to be ticking off many items on my bucket list , after a journey on the Eurostar I join a river boat in Paris and visit Monet’s Garden, Honfleur and the D-Day Beaches and much more , some are filling a DREAM from childhood , I never thought I would fulfil those as Teresa .
Teresa, thank you for sharing your thoughts. What I have come to realise during my ‘journey’ is that there are dreams and there are dreams! As of today, I’ve been on planet earth for around 24K days; I could have said a prayer every night asking to wake up as a girl the following day but the reality is that every single chromosome in my body would still be XY. On a marginally more realistic level, I could have saved every last penny to pay the best surgeon money could buy to give me the full works but I still wouldn’t be challenging April, Amanda L, Caroline or any of the other hopelessly beautiful transwomen who we see on TV or in the media.
Due to circumstances at home, there will be no dressing opportunities for the foreseeable future and so I took the opportunity for a final dressing session a couple of weeks ago. I took a few photos and there’s one in particular that I look at and, as I described in the post, I look at that photo every day because it really does embody the dream both from the perspective of how I look on that photo (which is far better than I’ve looked on any photo of male me I’ve ever had taken) and from the perspective that I know that the world will accept me as her. That photo has been the dream for most of my adult life and unlike prayers or surgery, it’s by definition an achievable dream, not least because the photo provides irrefutable evidence that it has been achieved.
In our position, it’s all too easy to lament what we don’t have rather than celebrate what we do. A little fantasy never hurt anyone but the realisation that people will accept us for what we are rather than reject us for what we aren’t is a wonderful feeling.
I hope you enjoy Paris when the time comes.
Amanda,
As I’ve mentioned before I have a few friends who fully transitioned , it didn’t simplify their lives it just changed their everyday problems , they were possibly less happy than me , they demonstrated that transition is as much a social thing as it is a surgical one , that’s why my change of name was so important to me .
Over they years I’ve taken many pictures , sometimes I think I look OK and sometimes not but then many women hate having their picture taken . Of all of them one of most recent ones which I haven’t posted here is the one of the best taken of me was on my cruise , it was just a table shot at dinner by the on board photographer but it says it all for me . I bought a copy along with several others and because I’d spent over thirty pounds they also gave me keyring pictures , so now I see that memory everyday when I drive my car .
Amanda,
Thank you for the wonderful read.
It takes us all quite awhile before we reach the realization, while out, that “this is ME”. I just loved my time of feeling so normal and natural. It took many, many decades, but when I finally arrived, life became great.
What I have gained in my new life are fabulous friends. Friends I never would have met as my dull male self. Thank you for being one of them.
Future outings will not happen, but having lived the dream and looking at previous photos keeps me happy.
Love,
Jocelyn
Jocelyn, thank you for your kind words.
I think your sentiments will be shared by almost all of us but when that realisation comes, it is a very special moment.
Sadly, I too am facing making the decision that you have made regarding the future. It really hinges on whether Mrs A is receptive to some sort of agreement for the future without needing too many details of my intended scope. But if I have seen and experienced the last of Amanda in a physical sense, at least my thoughts will be along the lines of ‘I wish I could have done that AGAIN’ rather than feeling regret at unfulfilled wishes. I’m sure you’ve felt the same but I have a real sense of pride in how Amanda’s been received and treated when I’ve been out and about. As I put in another reply above, I know that a lot of the nice things I’ve experienced were because people wanted to show support but, even so, at least I’ve been worthy of support!
Thank you again.
Good Morning Amanda. I thoroughly enjoyed your post. As usual my own memories come flooding back. Whilst reading it.
To this day I am still certain that had I not married my lovely wife I’m pretty sure that I would have transitioned early on in my journey. The strange thing is the desire to have a real female body has increased the further I am in the back nine. But I found out that taking female hormones is not a good idea for elderly CDs, Apparently we run the increased risk of strokes or heart sttacks if we’re on female hormones. So in just getting our first grand child recently the thoughts of transitioning have lessened substantially.
On a different note Canada is playing Switzerland in about 2 1/2 hours and all we need is a tie to win our group. And having an English grand father I will be cheering on England as well. Good luck in your next match, I’ll be watching.
Trish, thank you for sharing your thoughts. ‘Elderly’ though???!! You’re as young as the woman you feel!
It’s strange looking back at what might have been. Certainly, I often wonder whether, if I was 50 years younger now, where all of this would take me, particularly if I had also discovered that I make a far more presentable female than I do as a male. But I can look back without a shred of regret (which would be pointless as I can’t change the past) both from what life has given me and also from the knowledge that life for emerging transsexuals in the 1970s was hard to say the least.
As for the footie, I hope that your team gives you the result you hope for! I may watch if England gets to the final but, if it’s the usual story of hopes raised then dashed, I’ll spend my time on the more fulfilling pastime of watching paint dry!
Trish,
Wrong day for CDA and SUI.
J
From my own experience I feel that it was a good move to keep Emily under wraps until my wife passed.No turmoil plus in retrospect I can see that I would have had a heck of a time controlling things once Emily emerged so good luck to you Amanda.
ps -you referred to things getting better but what about UK bathroom restrictions that I have heard about???
Emily, thank you for joining the discussion and thanks for your good wishes about my prospects!
Obviously the situation regarding ‘bathrooms’ – or loos as we refer to them in polite circles (!) – is controversial but I’ll do my best to explain the reality of the situation.
It never has been, and still isn’t, illegal for someone of one sex to enter the other sex’s facilities. The current situation stems firstly from our Supreme Court’s April 2025 ruling that, under the terms of the Equality Act 2010, ‘sex’ refers to biological sex, not acquired gender. This is in the context of ‘sex’ being a protected characteristic where it is unlawful to discriminate. Another protected characteristic is ‘gender reassignment’ which refers to someone who has undergone, or is intending to undergo gender transition (which can include social transition with no medical intervention). But what’s important here is that the discrimination protection of the act does not mean that those with the gender reassignment protected characteristic have a right to use, for example, a specific facility (i.e. the ladies room for MTF), just that they must be allowed to use a facility.
Secondly, we have the Equalities and Human Rights Commission (EHRC) guidance which says that any single sex facility must be defined by biological sex and permitting those of the opposite sex to enter means that it is no longer a single sex facility. But crucially, this puts the onus for policing onto the service provider so if I decided to enter the ladies’ loos it would be up to whoever was providing that particular facility to deal with it and another user could bring an action against them (but not me) for allowing a biological male into what was designated a female space.
The situation for changing/fitting rooms in shops is different. The mere location of a fitting room in the ladieswear department does not automatically designate it as a female only space and if there is no notice on the entrance saying ‘women only’ or similar, it is effectively gender neutral and the shop would not be liable under the Equalities Act or EHRC guidance. However the shop could be liable for a harassment action by a shopper if she felt that her dignity had been compromised as a result of a trans-identifying male being present.
In both cases – equality and harassment – any action would be civil rather than criminal.
In reality, the main risks to us are firstly that an attendant will refuse us entry and secondly that another user will complain vocally. This has always been a risk although obviously the two rulings will embolden some people who would previously have kept quiet. In the end, I think it puts the onus on us to be respectful when entering those spaces and to use them solely for their intended purpose rather than as selfie backdrops and anything else which draws attention to us.
The final point I would make is that whilst the gender reassignment protected characteristic affords protection to those who transition in some shape or form, it has never covered those of us who live the majority of our lives as males and only occasionally crossdress without any intention of progressing further. But what I would say is that every single time I have been out, I have been treated with respect by every single person I have interacted with and, in many cases, treated in a way that I know signifies acceptance. The vast majority of people are caring & decent and respond positively when they perceive a genuine effort to conform is being made.
A very long answer to a short question – I hope it was of interest!
Hi Amanda,
Another great article – i think a lot of us on Kandi’s Land are a similar age and to some extend we have all found some level of dressing that works for us, freeing our female personae and meeting
the obligations of our male life, be they family, relationships or work.
In my male life, i am the opposite of you in being quite gregarious and extrovert, what
Always worried me about going out dressed was being on my own and people looking and judging me, particularly if I was sat in a cafe or bar. Hence, initially used to either just dress at home or occasionally go out early morning mingling with the crowds walking to work. I am fine going out with my partner and her friends and in both cases I find I natural slip into the role of Tanja.
Your comment about being bilingual is really observant. I live in a bilingual country, but neither language is my native one and as such when I have to use either I am conscious that I am not a native and I am aware that who I am conversing with knows I am not. This is similar to the experiences you highlight when out dressed.
I also find that when out with Tanja with girls, then I am completely her and comfortable in that role for the whole evening, and this is similar to a night out with francophone colleagues. In both cases I will be nervous beforehand but once in the situation just embrace and become comfortable crossing the language or gender divide.
Tanja, thank you for sharing your thoughts. I have to say that I’m envious of anyone who is bilingual – we Brits aren’t noted for our competence in speaking other languages and whilst I have tried to learn several over the years, I have learned the hard way that there’s far more to it thank just being able to buy train tickets or order meals!
What you said about the fear of people looking and judging was a fear that I had too. During my first outings I was very paranoid but I eventually realised that, for the most part, people will only look or stare if you give them a reason to. Once I’d figured out outfits that gave the right balance between the femininity that I craved and blending in with others, I soon realised that people had far better things to do than try to figure out exactly what I am. Of course I’ve seen people look my way and stare, or even laugh, but they are a tiny minority and most people either don’t notice me or don’t care. I also think that being alone makes me less conspicuous than I would be out in a group and whilst it’s obvious that I’m gender variant when seen close up, those I interact with have no idea whether I’m a full time transitioner, very part time CDer or somewhere in between.
I find the whole psychology of what we do fascinating. I don’t feel like a woman trapped in a man’s body or anything like that but I do find it significant that I not only feel so comfortable but also actively look for opportunities to be out and about when my normal personality suggests that I should really want to keep well away from those sorts of situations.
Amanda,
Nice short post.
Although I am older than you, I still plan to work at least 2 more years. Longevity run in my family so I could have 30+ more years of life and I wonder how I will express Cali during those years. How far will Cali go, how much more will I merge Cali into my male side? These are things I think about now. Already Cali has changed how the male me sees, does things, and appears.
As a teen I use to dream about been able to have painted nails, wear heels, and wear makeup. I use my fingernails as canvases for now exquisite long acrylic/gel art (recently playing with magnetic gels – cat’s eye), and l live in heels. Dreams do come true. Those things now feel completely normal.
I am current wearing more and more jewelry at home. I want to get use to it so when I out as Cali, it is all natural. I never really wore jewelry for most of my life. Partly because it was dangerous to do in one of my jobs. However ,now I just love tiny rings and sometimes wear them in public. Also experimenting with necklaces and chokers.
Yesterday after talking with a bank agent at her desk, she told me she loved my nails and took a close look at them – she had nice nails too. Then she told me just loves the black stilettos I wear in and wish she could wear heels like that. This is the type of compliments I enjoy getting.
Next up is laser for my face and neck; I’m so over shaving.
Where will Cali take me?
All I need to do after that is find a wife like Tanja has.
PS: I was very busy the last few days.
Cali, thanks for joining the discussion.
Yours is an interesting perspective as you have really blurred the lines between one side of you and the other. I often wonder if that’s what many of us really want – just to be able to mix and match without feeling constrained by society’s rigid definitions of what is acceptable. Equally, though, I think you prove that much of that rigidity exists only in our own minds and others are usually happy to accept us for who we are and not judge the choices we make.
I think I am able to blurred the lines because of my profession and age. I’m too old to worry about what someone else thinks, I can’t control that so why spend time worrying. I also had a major injury where I spend 22 months before I could go back to just half-time work, 45 hospital days. Lots of time just laying in a bed, lots of time to just think. I decided there were all these things I wanted to do (aka dreams) and I better start doing them. Then life (other injuries) stepped in to help Cali to germinate: toenails, panties, fingernails, high heels, waxing, …
These are just normal for me and I try to project that ‘normal’ onto others.
Cali, that’s an important perspective on life. We can spend a lot of time and energy trying to do what others define as the ‘right thing’ but in the end we have to look after our own needs too. What we do may be unconventional but it harms no one and ultimately that’s all that really matters.