ftmprobs

[ftmprobs]

[ftmprobs]

Have u had sex with it? And also when u use the adhesive how realistic does it actually look?

I have, the adhesive does help a great deal, but I found that wearing the harness and doubling up on boxers is almost essential for "full performance", per se. As far as the realism goes, I would give it about a 7/10.

[ftmprobs]

Wow you are handsome af

Much appreciated (;

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"I wanted to be a better brother, better son."

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“Omg I love transgendereds they’re so hot” 

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the hardest part of my day is going to the bathroom and figuring out which one to choose... I would like to start using the mens bathroom but im kinda nervous to.... any advice?

"Just because we're sitting doesn't mean we're shitting."I do facility work at my job, and so I clean the restrooms. Since I am trans, I am allowed in either bathroom, regardless of whether or npt there are people in there. Can I tell you that I've made so many men so uncomfortable that they went into a stall and sat down to urinate?!Don't be nervous, that's what lets anyone else in there know something is "off", per say. Also, if anything, you could also wait until they leave the bathroom to go. No shame in hanging out on the throne for a minute, they'll just assume you're concentrated on something, if you know what I mean.lolIf your voice isn't as deep as you'd like and you're afraid someone will notice, don't say anything. Men/guys do this head nod at each other, and it's just a sort of acknowledgement or pardon.Just be confident!! You've got this!!

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instead of ‘gay friends’ can we say homiesexuals 

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Relog if you feel like gender identity and sexual orientation should be taught about in public schools.

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It’s insane to see such ignorant people in power of others’ happiness. How are these people so in denial of such a real and modern world? I don’t fucking get it.

"As it has done for approximately two centuries, Alabama law allows for ‘marriage’ between only one man and one woman," the court said....

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A doctor: why you want top surgery

Me, a trans: you know those really douchey tank tops? The ones with the comically open arm holes?

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George Takei,

You rule. 

[ftmprobs]

Second recipient for binder giveaway**

Giveaway entry  MY STORY

This is my story. I don’t know how far back I should go…maybe from the beginning? Right when I popped out of my mom and they said it was a girl? Because I’ll tell you those nurses only saw the outside of me. They determined who I was because of what was below my waist. And they where wrong. I was always unsure about my body even as a young child. But I never knew why. Why did I hate wearing a swimsuit? Why did I scream and yell when people took photos of me? There was always this voice in my head telling me I looked stupid in girls clothes and that they never fit right. It took me a long time to figure out why I felt this way about myself. It’s because I’m transgendered. For a long time I tired being “girly”. You know wear dresses and put on makeup. But I always felt like an idiot. It never looked or felt right on my skin.

I first heard of being trans when I was on YouTube years ago when 3 transmen in their 30 and up where talking about their transitions. I had no idea that sort of thing was even possible. I did research on what being trans means for a while wondering if this could be me. I sat on that question for a good 2-3 years. Until 10 months ago when I cracked. I was over whelmed with awful feelings and I couldn’t take it anymore. I did more research and wallowed in my own self hatred for a while.

I got my hair cut in July 2014, a few days before my 16th birthday. And I felt amazing! I couldn’t stop smiling for days. Also just having a hair cut made me able to pass which was a great surprise even though I still have chest lumps. In August I told my mother which was a huge mistake. She is a very devoted religious person. And she made me feel even worse about myself. She told me none of my feelings where mine and they where just demons controlling me. She also said she would never support me in anything I did. I ran to the bathroom and locked the door. She continued to yell at me. I stayed there for 2 hours and cried. I avoided her for almost 3 weeks. I couldn’t even be in the same room as her without physically shaking. I dug my keys into palms to stop the shaking. Not enough to bleed just enough to leave some lines in my skin for a bit.

I have always had a dream to become an animator but that’s impossible now. My family doesn’t have a lot of money so I have to pay for collage myself. It’s either collage or transition. As I’ll have to pay for a therapist and anything that comes later. So I chose transition. My family still doesn’t know. I want to move out as fast as I can so I can transition without being ridiculed.

I don’t have a lot of money right now and am trying to get as much as I can. But even something small like getting a binder from someone can do a lot for me and expand my dollar to help further my transition later on.

Ok ok let’s get out of this sad shit. I just want to talk about pants for a second. When I first got a pair from the men’s section I was confused how sizes work. But then I found out the genius process of that and I was amazed! But then the most glorious thing happened. POCKETS! Pockets happened! My phone actually fit in my front pocket. My friends got mad at me when I kept showing them the awesomeness of actually having pockets. Whenever I go shopping (which isn’t very often) I always think of what I would look like in them after transitioning. I hope I look rad as hell.

I’m slowly building up my confidence but I can still go into a slum where I hate everything about me. I hate it. I just want to be happy for once. What really got me one day was when I was in class and one of the people whom I’ve been friends with for a while said “what are you now? A he-she?” And that really got to me. It hurt a lot. I don’t even think they knew they where being offensive. Another time they jokingly called me a faggot. I don’t think they understood I didn’t take it as a joke. But other times my happiness can rise to the top. Just last Saturday at work after paying of his food the customer said “thank you sir.” SIR! He called me sir! I have no idea who this man was but I wanted to give him the biggest high five. Pre-t me with my lumps of doom, high pitched voice and unmanaged hair was addressed as sir by a complete stranger. For the rest of the day I had a massive smile on my face. I’ve passed a few other times in public and I feel so great after. But then hatred slaps me in the face and I feel like shit agin.

I just want to be the person I was meant to be. But I know it’s going to take a long time and I’m willing to wait as long as I have to.

But that was my story. Thank you for taking your time to read all this. I’m glad your doing this giveaway because you are helping other people who feel like shit due to the unwanted passengers attached to their chest. I hope whoever gets the binder puts it to good use!

-Simon

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So these posts were the last post of a trans woman friend that me and a lot of people in the east bay knew and the confirmation that she in fact died. She had attempted suicide once before and we were able to stop her but this time it was too late. She jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge last night around 6pm.

A lot of us were just starting to get to know her and I personally started talking to her after Oakland Pride last summer and we had talked about going to punk shows together and we had attended the queer open mic in Oakland where she told the audience of her past with abuse transphobia and hate from her family. She often spoke of her family not supporting her being trans and was in and out of shelters and living with family.

Since she is a TWOC, it is unlikely that her suicide will gain any visibility even in our community as the common narrative is that only white trans women commit suicide and TWOC are murdered.

Please spread awareness of the latest victim of a society that makes our lives incredibly difficult. I myself have been nearly driven to do the exact same thing that she did last night but the will to live has kept me going. Sadly it was too late for her.

RIP Aubrey we will miss you.

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First recipient for the binder giveaway

    A Gender Story

                    I’m not sure if you’re counting non-binary people as part as your giveaway, but either way I’d like to share my story with you, even just so I can write a few things out.

            The first time I remember someone asking me about my gender was in eighth grade. That was also the year I came out to my friends as pansexual, so I suppose it was a pretty busy year for me. Anyway, I don’t remember exactly how the topic came up. I think we may have been talking about another student from our school. Regardless, one of my close friends asked what my gender was and I…couldn’t answer. I paused for a moment before shrugging it off and saying something along the lines of, “Well, I’m biologically female and I’m pretty comfortable with that.” As for what my gender was, I wasn’t sure. That didn’t bother me at the time and it was a while before I thought about it again.

            In tenth grade I started experimenting with presenting more in a more masculine fashion. I loved it when people mistook me for a boy and I loved it even more when they just weren’t sure what to call me. The few times I got called sir made me happier that being called miss ever did.

            The next time I really thought about gender again was when my date-person started questioning his gender. Eventually he came to the conclusion that he was genderfluid (now he’s not sure if that’s the right term or not and instead chooses to call himself simply non-binary). That prompted me to do a bit of research into different genders. Again I was faced with the question of what my gender was.

            Around the same time I started getting far more uncomfortable with certain parts of my body. I have always been tokophobic, meaning that pregnancy and childbirth really freak me out. At this point though it got so bad that even thinking about the fact that I have a uterus and ovaries and whatnot made me horribly uncomfortable. It was an awful, squirmy feeling that sometimes made me wish I could just tear my own uterus right out. It did not feel like something that belonged in my body.

            The more the fact that I have a uterus and stuff bothered me, the more masculine I presented myself. Eventually it culminated in a day when nothing felt right. It had started with the normal discomfort with my reproductive system and spread from there. Everything seemed wrong. My face, my hair, especially my voice, it all felt so wrong. I was on Skype with my date-person at the time and he could tell I was not ok. I refused to speak because I couldn’t stand the thought of hearing my voice. When I finally did I sobbed at the sound. I told him I wasn’t a girl. I still didn’t know what I was, but I knew that much.

            He of course completely understood. He calmed me down as well as he could, and asked me if I wanted him to stop using feminine words to refer to me. We talked about it and worked out what bothered me and what didn’t.

            I researched more intensely after that. I really wanted a word for what I felt. I wanted to finally know what my gender was.  While I knew I wasn’t a girl, boy didn’t seem right for me either. It felt more comfortable than girl did, but it still didn’t quite fit. I played around with the idea of demiboy for a while.

            Pretty quickly I realized that the comfort I found from being referred to as a boy and presenting in a masculine way was really just relief that I wasn’t being called a girl. It was definitely more comfortable, but definitely not right. I wasn’t either of those things.

            I found the term agender. Off the cuff it sounded a bit hollow, a bit flat. Still, it stuck with me. The next few nights I had a couple of gender related dreams.

            The first one was absolutely horrible. A slightly altered version of me was trapped in this maze of hospital hallways and medical equipment. My body was a bit different. My chest was flatter and my upper body more muscular. That was not the horrible part though. My stomach was bloated and distended as though I was pregnant. I ran, tripping, through the dark hallways. Every time one of the medical staff could grab me they would pump my abdomen full of blood making it bulge even more. I woke up crying. To me that pretty clearly represents my feelings towards my reproductive system.

            The next one was far calmer. It was simply me, wearing all yellow, curled up in bed next to my date-person. I had the same flat chest and muscular upper body from the first dream, but this time I knew I didn’t have a uterus, or ovaries, or any of the internal trappings of the reproductive system I’m so uncomfortable with. I nuzzled against my date-person and felt nothing but calm. Looking back on it the color yellow seems pretty important. In many cases, I have seen yellow used to represent non-binary identities. It’s also a happy color, especially this particular shade which was the color of rubber ducks. To me that is significant.

            Since then I’ve been sure that I’m agender. It just clicked after that. I had finally found the answer to my question.

            It’s going to be a long road for me to get to any sort of widespread acceptance. I might never have a body like the one I would like. People might never see me the way I would like them to. But someday I will be out to everyone who matters to me, and if all goes well they’ll respect my identity.  For now though, I have accepted myself. I know what I am now. It just took a while.

            Sorry if this seems inappropriate since I’m not ftm.

[ftmprobs]

things cis people need to stop being surprised by:

trans people dating each other instead of them

non-straight trans people

trans people not wanting surgery

trans people existing in general

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Yes. Now leave amber and john alone.

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I saw your binder giveaway and I want to say thank you! I'm pre-T and am low on cash and full on dysphasia. And most people who do giveaways don't usually have my size! But I have a question is there a particular end date? I just want to be sure so I don't miss it by not finishing my story.

You're quite in time, good sir! I just made the post only a couple days ago, and you're actually only the second person to get back to me about it.