It finally happened, after twenty-something years, my folks joined my Aunts, Uncle, Beli and I at the same table for Thanksgiving dinner. I was pleasantly surprised. Mother even thanked Beli and I for our emotional support during her health issues. I was also quite taken aback at how emotional I got once Beli and I were in the car and heading home. I really thought the tears were done.

In other news, I'm finding myself obsessed with my desires to change my body. Even frustrated that the information wasn't as easily obtained when I was in my mid-to-late twenties when I thought I was just crazy and pushed everything to a back burner.

For several years, Beli and I argued over the fact that I wouldn't see a therapist to deal with issues regarding my folks and their reaction to finding out I was gay. I finally told him it was because I was afraid he wouldn't like, love or care for the person that came out. Of course he said that would not be the case. Still, I'm finding that fear at the base of my inability to tell him I don't want a dick and balls. That from early childhood, just as I knew I liked guys, I knew I had the wrong stuff in my pants and the thought of living life as female never appealed to me, still doesn't.

Crap, life isn't supposed to be this difficult.

Like most, I suppose, if I had a chance to do things differently, I would. Starting with not doing what I thought was expected of me, but what made me happy and content. All this pieces and parts stuff would be long handled and changed before Beli and I met. Then if we truly were meant to be together, we would be, and we'd know for a fact it was for all the right reasons. Please don't get me wrong, I know he's not with me just because of the size of my dick. But, for a gay man, no dick can be a deal breaker.

Suppose I should stop rambling and get back to my homework. Sorry if my language offends, I know I tend to talk like a sailor.

JJ