30 day post-op thoughts

I am one month post-op today. I have a vagina. It hurts.

  1. Recovery is hard. 
    I am not sure I was prepared; I certainly wasn’t prepared.
    I feel like I set out to climb a mountain with a bottle of water and a sandwich.
    That being said, I wonder if I could ever have been prepared. I don’t know what more I could have done, even with hindsight, so I suspect the message is simply if you are considering this, be expecting a mountain.
  2. I feel more validly a woman.
    I feel a little ashamed by this point as it is the dictionary definition of cis-sexism (men have penises, women have vaginas). It also underscores my privilege at being able to have this operation with the top surgeon in the world. Yet despite the above, somehow I feel more able to comfortably and assuredly say I am a woman.
  3. I feel free of a tension I wasn’t aware of.
    Social transition had exorcised a lot of demons. I felt free of sadness that I had carried all my life. However I now feel free of some internal struggle about what I am. I have had this body part that I have had such an uncomfortable relationship with and it’s gone. I look in the mirror and don’t see someone between two sexes. I just look and feel right.
  4. I have some doubts.
    Was it all worth it? The positives in the last two points suggest it was and it will be. But right now I don’t really have a vagina. I have an absence of penis, which is great. But it’s not yet much more than a wound. It is ugly and painful and delicate and uncomfortable. Apparently the recovery will be harder in months two and three. I have a suspicion that my cosmetic result will not be great, possibly necessitating another trip to Thailand. It’s a lot of stuff. I am happier, but right now I can’t just simply say “yep it was all worth it”, because recovery dominates every horizon. Ask me again in six months.

I just joined the three mile high club with my thai boyfriend: Dilating on a plane

I suspect I am not the first person to have done this. I can’t be. Most of the conversation in the community is about the dilation after the long flight home. They say things like “It’ll be challenging, but manageable”. But something about the experience I just had tells me that I wasn’t the first person to do what I just did. I suspect there will be those that will disapprove for a whole pile of reasons, but not much I can say at this stage – I did it.
It felt very naughty. I have in my life on a few occasions had sex in places one is not supposed to have sex and there is a rush to that. I will admit to feeling a little of the same here. What I did definitely had a risk of being caught and humiliated.
It was all in the prep and a little bit of luck. Firstly I had a vague idea I might try something like this later, so I wore clothes that I thought might work. I picked leggings and a long tee that went down past my bum and a long cardigan – you can hide a lot with this outfit.
I also packed my dilators, lube and some of the cleanup materials in my carry-on. I knew there was a risk of having some idiot security guy waving them around for all to see, but I figured I’d booked a wheelchair and humiliating a woman in that situation felt less likely.
On the flight I was flying business class with a flat bed. This never could have worked without having spent a shit ton of air miles for this privilege. In business class, some seats are very exposed, kind of in the aisle and some are super secluded either by the window or in pairs in the middle of the plane. I super lucked out. I ended up with both seats right in the middle of the plane; there was no one next to me – it was like a little cabin; I had privacy. That being said, knowing how easy it was, I think I’d have chanced it in any of the business seats.
Setup. On plane, those blankets you get comes in a polythene bag. I scored an extra blanket, so had a lot of coverage to protect the seat. If you haven’t travelled business, then the blankets themselves are a little different than the little scraps of cloth you get in economy or premium. They are closer to a thin, but full size quilt. You can hide quite a lot under them. So with both my blankets over the top of me, I positioned the polythene sheeting over the seat under my bottom. I had also been to the bathroom and sneaked out piles of paper towels in my cardigan pockets and they even had wet wipes. I put these to one side of the seat under the arm rest.
Part of my dilation process is lots of time with my fingers beforehand to lose everything up and make it less of a shock to my new little vagina to accept the unyieldingly hard medical dilator. Feeling very naughty, I grabbed some lube and began my process. I deliberately made it look like I was sleeping badly: Knees raised, the odd toss and turn. I kept this up for my my usual time and felt ready to make a go for it.

Continue reading “I just joined the three mile high club with my thai boyfriend: Dilating on a plane”