Bobbie – Page 24

Growing up Queer in the Canadian Armed Forces.

There’s nothing that starts up arguments better in the base brat groups on F-book than discussions about what it was like to grow up queer on a military base.

The strongest counter argument that most former base brats can come up with is that it wasn’t easy to be queer in the civilian world so why do I concentrate on the military world.

I didn’t grow up in the civilian world, I grew up in the military world.

I lived on military bases from the month I was born until just after my 16th birthday.

By the time I was 8 years old I knew the following terms:

Homo
Faggot
Queer
Cocksucker
Pansy

I was taught that women were inferior to men and that girls were inferior to boys.

It would be an understatement to say that the military was a very misogynistic and homophobic environment.

The Canadian Armed Forces had a very strict policy against homosexuals and other sexual “deviants” right up until 1994 when they were ordered by the Supreme Court of Canada to ditch the homophobia.

This policy was CFAO 19-20.

And as I’ve said before, yes, the policy didn’t apply to military dependents. But each and every member of the Canadian Forces would have received basic information on this policy as they were expected to rat out fellow members if they suspected those fellow members of being gay, lesbian, or exhibiting any other sexual “abnormality”.

I think this is one of the reasons that Captain Terry Totzke was so hellbent on making me understand that I was a homosexual because I had sex with the babysitter. In Totzke’s mind I must have been a homosexual as there would be no other reason why I’d let a boy twice my age put his penis into my rectum on various occasions. Totzke’s training in the military must have fucked up his common sense beyond all belief.

And as study after study has indicated, military personnel were very prone to bringing their training into the homes on base.

This is one of the reasons why domestic abuse was always a problem in the military community. In the military you do not under any circumstance question or disobey the orders of your superiors. In the military home the male spouse would often view themselves as the commander of the house and everyone in the house was his subordinate bound to obey his each and every command. And there would be hell to pay if commands were not obeyed.

All I can say is that I am very thankful that Richard never caught me crossdressing in my early years on Shearwater or Griesbach. Actually, I’m very thankful that no one else caught me crossdressing.

I cannot imagine, even in today’s world, growing up trans on base, or even just gender non-conforming. Being gender non-conforming on base is dangerous.

For the longest time I had always assumed that my desire to not be male had something to do with the abuse from 1978 until 1980.

No, the abuse was not the source of my desire to not be male.

Yes, in the aftermath of the abuse I really wanted to be a girl. But I had always assumed again that that was due to the abuse as well as the teaching of Captain Totzke and nothing more.

I had always written off my desires to have my own breasts and my own hips like the girls at school was just me being fucked up due to the abuse.

All the abuse from CFB Namao did was set me up for further abuse on CFB Downsview.

It was the military’s attitude towards gender non-conforming people, and the military’s opinion that gender non-conformity was a mental illness that caused me to bury my desires.

Yes, I realize that switching hormones isn’t going to be easy, but at least today’s civilian world is far more accepting than the homophobic and misogynistic environment that I grew up in.

Yes, I do expect to encounter boneheads who think that what I am doing goes against “god’s will”.

Tough.

Yes, I do expect to encounter women that will accuse me of wearing “their” gender as a costume.

Tough.

For the most part my gender identity and my sexual orientation were formed in utero. The brain is literally hard wired for sex. If the human brain, or any other animal brain for that matter wasn’t hard wired for gender identity and sexual orientation, reproduction would have never worked.

Sex is a basic instinct.

There is no such thing as a female brain or a male brain.

But how the brains are wired very much depends on what hormones the fetus is exposed to in utero as well as the levels of those hormones, and the timing of the exposure.

Genes and chromosomes also play heavily into gender identity and sexual orientation.

Humans start developing as females even if they have XY chromosomes. However, once the fetus’s gonads develop into either testicles or ovaries and start secreting either androgen or estrogen the the fetus will either keep developing as a female or the development as a female will halt and the fetus will start developing as a male.

Persons that are born intersex prove that gender is not a simple binary male / female choice. We’ll never know the true prevalence of intersex persons throughout the entirety of human existence, but it would be safe to say that ever since mammals started determining sex via the presence of a second X or Y chromosome that intersex persons have been with us.

One type of intersex are persons with XY chromosomes that are born presenting as female. XY is supposed to be male, right? Well unlike what the bible thumpers would love for you to believe, due to Androgen Insensitivity intersex persons are often born with testicles in their abdomen, a vagina, but no uterus, all external genitalia presenting as female. These people are usually not detected to be intersex until they become teens and fail to go through puberty.

Their testicles are in their abdomen because due to the androgen insensitivity they failed to descend towards the scrotum. Basically the gonads stayed where they would have been had they developed into ovaries.

They have a vagina and external female genitals as both male and female fetuses have these until the gonads become testicles and the female tissues are repurposed for their male counterpart.

Males have mammary glands and nipples because they form before the gonads develop into ovaries or testicles.

How and when the brain starts adapting its wiring is anyone’s guess. Researchers know what the various areas of the brain do, but the exact wiring patterns that form and how they determine the characteristics of the fetus are still quite a few years away from truly being understood.

Trans people and queer people and gender non-conforming people have existed all throughout human history no matter how hard the Abrahamic religions have tried to erase them. To say that human beings are either genetically male or female, identify as male or female, and are only attracted to the opposite sex is quite laughable.

Class action update

There was some exchange of information between my lawyer and I this last week.

The DOJ seems to be willing to allow this matter to proceed as a class action.

There was some disagreement on the definition of what constituted a “class member” so hopefully my lawyer is able to have this definition properly defined.

Once my lawyer and the DOJ reach agreement on what constitutes a class member, then the court still has to accept. This shouldn’t be a problem though.

Beyond that I can’t give much more information as it’s all in the hands of the lawyers.

3 weeks to go

Well, it’s three weeks until my appointment with my nurse practitioner.

This of course is when I get my prescription for testosterone / androgen blockers and estrogen.

Is my goal to be a woman?

Nope.

I just have really never identified as anything. And I’ve never felt at home in my masculine body. In fact there are a lot of things that I hate and despise about with being a male.

If I had to say that I identified as anything, it would be non-binary. Something in the middle. A little bit of both. But not much of either.

I’ve always identified women as being smarter and superior to men.

I hate my genitals. I really do. I’ve hated this junk for as long as I can remember.

At first I’ll be on the testosterone / androgen blockers, but eventually I will undergo orchiectomy.

If I can get a penectomy, that would be nice, but it’s not a deal breaker.

Definitely not going for vaginoplasty.

I got fucked enough when I was a kid. If I never see another penis for so long as I live I’ll consider that to be “mission accomplished”.

Having nothing down there would make me happy.

I’ve wanted breasts for as long as I can remember, so much so that when I was about 11 or 12 and finally understood that I wasn’t going to develop breasts, I was devastated.

What will I develop?

Probably nothing more than an ‘A’ cup. Which is more than enough for me. If I had started this back in my teens or 20s I probably would have grown a bit more, but this will be fine.

I probably won’t show much at first, but around 6 months I should be sprouting. By about 14 months I’ll get as much as I’ll ever develop.

I’ll get softer skin, my facial hair will somewhat thin out. Other body hair will probably remain unchanged

I’ll lose muscle mass. My body fat will redistribute.

I’ve never felt at home in this body, and that was even before the events that occurred on Canadian Forces Base Namao.

My lack of breasts weren’t the only thing that I’ve felt was wrong since I was a kid. My hips don’t feel right. It’s like my hips should be much wider than what they are. The disconnect between my body size and what I feel my body size should be has haunted me all of my adult life. It’s hard to explain, but when I look in the mirror and see my body, my body feels as if it belongs to someone else. So when I say that I’m looking forward to losing muscle mass, I mean it.

Do I blame this gender / body dysphoria on the sexual assaults and subsequent counselling from CFB Namao? No. If anything the abuse and the subsequent counselling just conspired to delay me in taking action.

These issues are literally issues that I was born with.

Anyways, enough for now.

The adventure begins.

So, tomorrow I go in and get my blood withdrawn for my baseline.

Who knew that playing with hormones could be so interesting.

If everything goes as planned then I should start hormone therapy in a couple of weeks.

Still really don’t know what to expect, but it should be interesting.

On a different note, I can only wonder what I should have been doing with my life all of this time.

I honestly don’t like technical work. It’s something that I can do, but it’s not something that I really like.

But I do have the ability to read. And my ability to reason is very good.

Not bad for a grade 8 dropout, eh?

I just finished the upgrade project for the mixing boxes in the operating rooms. The old mixing boxes were obsolete, parts were unavailable, and the controls for them were unreliable and obsolete.

So, I went ahead and sourced out some brand new Price mixing boxes with integrated PIC controls.

The project got delayed a few months, but it was finally completed two weeks ago.

I’ve never worked with BACnet before earlier this year when I installed my first BACnet system to monitor a bunch or room temperatures in one for the buildings to economize the use of steam.

Since installing my first BACnet network back around March, I’ve expanded this to seven BACnet networks. The interesting thing about using the MSA BACnet routers is that I can log into the equipment no matter where I am in the world.

This screen shows the BACnet devices on the Operating Room network, network #11302. These are all of the brand new mixing boxes that were installed to replace the obsolete mixing boxes that were causing problems.

And the below shots show some of the information available from the mixing boxes.

I can do this work, but it’s not something that brings me any type of happiness or joy. In fact this brings me some discomfort.

See, there are a lot of guys at work that think that I’m an asshole and that I’m not teaching them this stuff because I want to make them look bad.

I never went to trade school, I never went to technical college, I never went to fucking anywhere to learn this stuff. No one taught me this shit. I just fucking read. Read and use some fucking logic.

I didn’t want to end up a power engineer. But power engineering was the only thing available to a person like me to keep me from a life of welfare wage jobs and intermittent homelessness.

I honestly have no fucking idea of what I wanted to do with my life. I was never supposed to have been alive at this point.

And with a non-stop chorus of my father and Captain Totzke screaming and yelling in my head, along with my never ending battles with major depression and severe anxiety, I don’t think that any options would have ever really been open for me.

I can only wonder what could have been my potential.

Blood tests

Well, I have some blood testing to get done in the next week.

I had an appointment with my nurse practitioner on Tuesday.

He wants to establish some baselines for my bloodwork so that he can keep an eye on my body to see how it’s adapting to the anti-androgen medications and the estrogen patches.

I’ll be on the anti-androgen meds for the first while to make sure that this is absolutely something that I want. After that I can undergo double orchiectomy to have both testicles removed after which I’ll only have to contend with the estrogen patches.

As I’m not electing for any “top” or “bottom” gender affirming surgery, this will make things go a lot smoother for me.

As I explained to my nurse practitioner, I don’t identify as female, but I don’t identify as male. I identify as nothing.

I don’t know if it’s because of the abuse from CFB Namao, or from the way the Canadian Armed Forces dealt with the abuse, and I mean not only my father, but Captain Terry Totzke, but I’ve always hated and despised the junk I have. I don’t like it. I’ve never liked it. I’ve never wanted it. And I want it gone to the best of my abilities.

I’ve also wanted breasts since I was a kid.

I was always so sure that I was going to grow breasts when I was younger. But then that defective “Y” chromosome came into play. CFB Griesbach and my time with Captain Totzke were not a pleasant time. Not only was I being blamed for what happened on CFB Namao, but my desires for breasts and my love of crossdressing were really fucking with my brain.

Yeah, I’ll readily admit that when I wore her dresses, I had always fantasized about being a girl, about going to bed as a boy and waking up the next day as a girl. But my involvement with Captain Totzke ensured that I always kept that shit to myself, buried away.

And with my father himself being in the Canadian Armed Forces, and with the attitude that the Canadian Forces had against “queers and homos” at the time, my desires were buried away.

Do I still want to be a girl?

Nope.

As the years have gone by, my aversion to sex and sexuality have made me realize that my hatred of being a male is not the same as wanting to be a female.

My desires for breasts has always been there.

So, I’m going to take the opportunity to get rid of the junk that I’ve despised all of my life to get the breasts that I’ve always wanted.

In 2008, when I legally changed my name, the reason I did so was that I was anticipating not full blown gender reassignment, but eliminating my male gender.

Unfortunately around that time I had made the stupid decision to try to hold the babysitter to account for what he had done. Clashing with the Canadian Armed Forces and their desires to keep secrets hidden in the past wasted about 16 years.

But, better late than never, eh?

What do I expect to occur once I start taking the androgen blockers and the estrogen patches?

The blockers I’ll be taking at full strength.

The patches will be at a small dose at first and then the dose will be gradually increased.

They won’t start me on the full strength of patch immediately as that would be like 4 years of puberty jammed into one month.

But there will be changes. changes such as:

Less and less facial hair
Thinning of my body hair
The low end of my voice may rise (no guaranteed)
My skin will soften
I will experience muscle loss
I will experience fat redistribution
I will grow breasts
I will undergo double orchiectomy once it is shown that my body is adapting to the new hormones and that there are no unintended complications.

Some things will not change though:

My hips will not widen
I will not form a uterus or ovaries
I will not have a vagina
I will not have labia
I will not menstruate
I will not be receiving gender-affirming surgery outside of the gender negating removal of my testicles.
My facial bone structure will not change
I will not suddenly gain a sex drive
I will not suddenly be sexually attracted to anyone

The breasts that I grow will be good enough. I will not go for any type of enhancement surgery.

There are risks though, and this is what the blood tests are for. Blood clots are a risk when switch hormones or going on to hormone therapy. Energy levels may decrease. Due to my age I’ll be going on the patch as opposed to taking pills as pills involve the liver and at my age the liver isn’t to be abused.

I don’t foresee running into any employment related issues. I’ve been wearing dresses and what have you at work for a long while now. My superiors, my coworkers, and my subordinates are all aware of my peculiar take on gender.

Once I start on this I’ll have to make out the required changes to my identification. For legal purposes where only male and female are gender options, I’ll be male as that is what my chromosomes indicate. But where there are more options than the heteronormative male / female, I will identify as “x” or non-binary.

Saturday April 6th, 2024

On Monday I’m back to work.

It’s been a fun 15 days away from work.

Still have 20 days left of vacation time.

I think the first 7 days I barely got out of bed.

Dreamland is such a pleasant place to visit, so much nicer than reality.

The rest of the time I was getting out of bed super, super late.

Tuesday I’ve got an appointment with my nurse practitioner. I’ll have a pretty interesting decision to make.

He’s kinda apprehensive. He wants to know if I’ve ever had any involvement in the trans community before. I told him that I had been involved with some groups in the mid ’00s, but the fact that I’m a socially isolated loner meant that I didn’t stick around them for too long.

Beside, I don’t want to transition into a woman. I want to transition into neither. Not male. Not female.

Sex has been an unmitigated disaster for me.

To officially be neither, but to have bits of both intrigues me.

My NP has warned me that I’m pretty old and my masculine features are pretty hard set. I told him that I’m fine with that, that I’m not looking to be female. I just don’t want anything associated with male.

He cautioned me that people might not be too accepting.

I’m covered in tattoos from head to toe.

I have a lot of facial piercings.

I wear dresses and heels.

I work with trades that are normally dominated by “Real Manly Men….. Grrrrrr(tm)(c)”

At work I put up with people who won’t give me the time of day due to the way I am.

Having breasts and less muscle mass isn’t going to be much of a game changer for me.

And really, I’ve seen guys with bigger breasts than I intend to have. They usually call those “Molson Man Tiddies”…… but I digress.

The NP says that there is a risk of blood clot and stroke with taking oral or intramuscular Estrogen at my stage in life. Fine, dermal patch it will be.

The lawyers are still working away on the class action, nothing to report on that front.

I am beginning to accept that the DOJ and the DND will succeed in their endeavour to hide this mess from the public.

Sometimes I wonder if things would have been better off and if I listened to Richard’s warning to me about sticking my nose into this shit. Sure, knowing the truth about Canadian Forces Base Namao is one thing. But knowing the truth really hasn’t changed anything. Pedophiles and child molesters who had successful careers in the Canadian Armed Forces prior to 1998 and who got away with their crimes due to the 3-year-time-bar flaw and the summary investigation flaw get to enjoy their retirement knowing that they can’t ever be touched by military or civilian tribunals. And the victims of these perverts get laughed at by the Canadian Armed Forces and the Department of National Defence because neither of these agencies can be compelled by any civilian authority to admit that these flaws impacted children living on the bases.

Until next time……..

DNA

So, I bit the bullet last week and I ordered an Ancestry DNA test.

I’ve always been kinda curious about my lineage.

According to my father, I’m my Uncle Al’s son.

But then again, according to Richard I’m Bill Parker’s son.

So, it’ll be interesting to see what comes back.

There are pictures of my brother and I as kids.

He has the same skin tone and brown eyes like my grandmother.

Me?

I look like my mother, and so does my brother.

But he also looks like he has First Nations blood.

Me, not so much.

My father was a horndog that would literally fuck anything that moved.

I’ll be interested to see if I get any hits for half-brothers and half-sisters that I didn’t know about.

He was with the Royal Canadian Navy for 6 years before he remustered into the airforce after the unification of the Canadian Forces in 1968.

But even when he was with the airforce he was often away on training exercises.

So there’s no telling how many panties he dropped.

And the thing with being in the Canadian Forces back then is when he said that he was going away on training exercises, did he really go away on training exercises?

Or were his “weekend training exercises” just panty raids.

But other than discovering how far and wide my old man distributed his tadpoles, I’m really curious about the maternal side of my family.

As I’ve said previously, I more or less know about the paternal side of my family. My paternal grandmother raised my brother and I for about 6 years of our lives as kids.

I did meet my paternal grandfather, albeit only for a few weeks over the 1982 xmas holidays.

I met both of my paternal uncles, uncle Doug and uncle Norman.

I met two of my paternal grandmother’s brothers, Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Johnny.

I even met my paternal grandmother’s sister, Aunt Karen.

So far as the maternal side of my family, I only vaguely remember uncle Al. I never would see uncle Al again after my father was posted from CFB Shearwater to CFB Summerside.

It will be interesting to see what comes up.

Resting Bitch Face………

I’ve come to the realization that I suffer from a bad case of “Resting Bitch Face”.

Here’s an album of my “Resting Bitch Face” in Canada, America, and Iceland…..

What causes Resting Bitch Face?

Probably a life time of being dead on the inside.

It’s hard at work because I gotta fake a smile all the time otherwise people seem to think that I’m going to snap.

It’s not that I hate or despise perky people. I just don’t feel the need to run around all day with an insane grin on my face.

In my house there was no need to smile.

The best thing around grandma, Richard, or Sue was to just adopt a blank face.

And growing up keeping a blank face also work at school as it kept the other kids and the teachers from knowing that anything was wrong at home.

When I went to the Westfield program in Edmonton from June 1982 to March 1983 we had to talk about our “feelings”. We also had to do “temperature check” every morning before classes so that we could express our feelings and emotions.

This did not go over well with me. I hated it. I hated talking about feelings.

Richard, Grandma, and the events of CFB Namao had killed off just about every emotion that I ever had.

Even to this day the worst thing that you could do is ask me to express emotions, or talk about my feelings, of talk about personal things.

“You don’t like to talk about personal things?”

Get the fuck outta here!

What the fuck is this blog then?

This blog is therapy and a testament.

Besides, I talk about what I want to talk about when I want to talk about it.

But Bobbie, you gotta talk about your feelings if you want to get better……..

Nope.

That’s not how this works.

You don’t get to ignore the past and then wash your hands of my dysfunction by further blaming me for being me.

Don’t forget, a lot of my dysfunction didn’t come from bad personal choice. Almost all of my dysfunction can be traced back directly to bad decisions made by members of the Canadian Armed Forces.

You didn’t honestly think that what I endured wasn’t going to have an effect on me, did you?

And blaming me for the dysfunction wasn’t going to cure me.

I think that this may be one of the reasons that I embraced an eccentric manner of dressing, what I lack on the inside I cover up with nice colours, patterns, and designs on the outside.

Too little, too late

If you haven’t paid attention to the media over the last few days you missed out on some major changes coming to the Canadian Armed Forces.

The Minister of National Defence is calling for the removal of sexual assault from the purview of the Canadian Forces Military Police Group, including the Canadian Forces National Investigation Service.

The Minister is requesting that all sexual assaults that occur on Defence Establishments in Canada be investigated and prosecuted by the civilian police and the civilian justice system.

I will be very curious to see how this affects military dependents that were sexually abused on military bases in Canada, especially in the days prior to 1998.

I also wonder how this will affect pre-1998 child sexual assault investigations that rely on access to the service files of retired service personnel.

This of course is 13 years and three weeks too late to be of any benefit to me.

In my case the CFNIS, the Provost Marshal, and the Canadian Forces will always be able to say that the Military Police Complaints Commission and Federal Court justice Yves De Montigny found no issues with the 2012 MPCC investigation which in turn found no issues with the 2011 CFNIS investigation and therefore the 2011 CFNIS investigation was an example of superb police work.

That of course only works so long as the CFNIS, the Provost Marshal, and the Canadian Forces forget to tell the Canadian public that they willingly withheld from the Military Police Complaints Commission and ultimately Federal Court Justice Yves De Montigny the fact that the CFNIS in 2011 had in their possession the 1980 CFSIU investigation paperwork, and the 1980 Court Martial transcripts that show that it was the babysitter’s abuse of young children that brought him to the attention of the base military police and that this subsequently brought Captain Father Angus McRae to the attention of the CFSIU which found that McRae had been molesting well over 25 children on the base and that McRae had been obfuscating this abuse by administering alcohol to the children that he was abusing in the rectory of the chapel.

I also like the fact that the Minister of National Defence is willing to expand those who can make interference complaints to the Military Police Complaints Commission. Up to now the only persons who can make complaints are the investigators with the military police or the CFNIS. But if your superior gives you a “lawful command” is that really interference?

https://www.canada.ca/en/department-national-defence/news/2024/03/introduction-of-the-military-justice-system-modernization-act.html

What’s next?

Well, now that M.A.i.D. is off the table until 2027 I’m going to pick up on an issue that I wanted to deal with prior to 2011 when I sent my email to the Edmonton Police Service.

I don’t really think my complaint with the BC Human Rights Tribunal will have much effect on the government, at least not in the short term.

And I don’t expect to hear anything from the DND and the DOJ until at least 2030. They’re gonna want to ride this matter out for as long as possible.

In 2008 I legally changed my name.

This was done for two reasons.

The first was that I had decided that if Richard wanted nothing to do with me, then I wanted nothing to do with him.

The second was that at the time I was considering undergoing gender reassignment.

For all of my life, up to that point, I had never felt like I was a male.

I never connected with “male” things.

I loved dresses as a kid and feminine things. Once I got my first apartment in New Westminster around 1994 I started buying dresses on the sly and wearing them in my apartment.

As a kid I used to get the shit beat out of me on CFB Downsview ’cause I acted like a girl or walked like a girl or cried like a girl, etc.

The teachings of Captain Totzke were still fresh in my head that I had been sexually abused by the babysitter because I enjoyed having sex with boys.

But then in 2011 I had to go and try to get justice for what the babysitter had done, so that derailed my plans.

And maybe that was a good thing in a way.

See, I had fallen into the same trap that most of society has fallen into and that is there were only two genders. If you’re not a male, then you have to be a female, and vice-verse.

As a kid I had always wanted breasts. I was so certain that I was going to develop like the other girls, but that never happened.

I was around 12 when I realized that I wasn’t going to develop breasts. And I was fucking devastated.

I had always felt that my hips should have been larger, but they never grew out.

And on top of that I had Captain Totzke drilling into my head that I was a “homosexual”. Which wasn’t clearly explained to me what that entailed, but it was bad apparently.

So, I never really knew what I was.

Didn’t enjoy relationships with women, but I didn’t enjoy relationships with men either.

So………….

After having been kicked and beat by the Canadian Forces since 2011, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect.

And reflect I have.

I don’t identify as anything.

I’m not male.

I’m not female.

Not gay.

Not straight.

I’m nothing.

And I’m cool with that.

So, I’m going for an appointment with my physician in April.

Even though I don’t identify as a woman, doesn’t mean that I can’t have breasts.

Breasts will work nicely with my wardrobe.

And as I’ve said, I’ve always felt like I should have had breasts.

I’m pretty sure that I will enjoy having breasts.

Hips?

Nope, not at this stage of life. My pelvis has been exposed to androgens for too long.

The junk I was born with?

Never have liked it, it’s always felt like it never belonged down there.

What do I plan to do?

Well, the first thing will be to start on anti-androgens and then start on a estrogen.

Due to my age I more than likely won’t be able to oral estrogen, I’ll more than likely have to stay with dermal patches.

The nice thing about going on estrogen is it will reduce my muscle mass. My body has always felt foreign to me. The mental image that I have of my body is much smaller than what my physical body actually is. My body has always felt like it belonged to someone else.

If the anti-androgens and the estrogen have the effects that I desire, then I intend to go for orchiectomy. That is I intend to have my testicles removed. Castration basically. Absolutely no more androgen production.

And then a penectomy. That is, the complete removal of my penis.

But no, there will be no vaginoplasty. I got fucked enough as a kid, I don’t need anymore penises inside of my body. Besides, as I said, I don’t truly identify as female. It’s just I don’t identify as male.

And I want to get rid of my male junk.

How will I pee? Good that you asked.

Same way that guys who have had penectomies due to cancer urinate. My urethra will be connected to a new opening and I’ll urinate through that.

What will I look like? A Ken doll…….with a scar.

Isn’t that a bit drastic?

No.

As I’ve said, I have always despised the junk between my legs. It’s always felt like a punishment.

So, I get to get rid of it finally AND I get to have the breasts that I always wanted.

In 2008, just after I legally changed my name, I sent my father a letter explaining why I had changed my name. I was very clear with Richard this was something that I wanted to do and that he was losing a son that he didn’t want and was gaining a daughter that he wouldn’t have wanted either.

I guess this is why he told the Canadian Forces National Investigation Service in 2011 that he knew that I had changed my name, but that he didn’t know why I had changed my name.

He knew why I changed my name. I guess that having a homosexual son was bad enough, but now having a gender non-conforming son was even worse.

I had called him during the 2011 CFNIS investigation. I asked him for help with the investigation. Not once did he return any of my calls. And he plunged the proverbial knife into my back in 2011 when he gave his statement to the CFNIS in 2011 in which he denied the babysitter looked after my brother and I and in which he denied that grandma was raising my brother an I on CFB Namao.

So yeah, I guess his gender non-conforming son was an insult that he wasn’t willing to wear.

I do wish that he was still alive.

Just so that he could see me in my dresses, with my breasts…….. that would have been priceless.

But Bobbie, you have no hair!

Yep, that’s cool. There are a ton of awesome looking bald women. With tattoos to boot. In fact, the reason that I started shaving my head back in 1990 was Sinead O’Connor. She looked powerful with her 0 buzzcut.

One thing that I do wonder about, what would things have been like had I come out as gender-queer and gender non-conforming on a Canadian Armed Forces base when I was a kid back in the ’80s?

Sure, the civilian world wasn’t that too receptive yet, but the civilian world was far more accepting than a Canadian military base would have been.

Would I have survived?

Or would I have quietly disappeared either at the hands of my own father or at the hands of another member of the Canadian Forces disgusted by a person like me being “out” on the base.

If I had told my father or even Captain Terry Totzke between 1980 and 1987 that I identified as a female, I think I would have encountered a tragic conclusion.

Anyways, enough about the past, I’m looking forward to my April appointment.