Days of Gratitude - Joy In The Big Performance And The Big Composition

Five more days as the end of the year approaches.

These were excellent days, not to be spoiled by impending anxiety and panic.  The decision half made on one of these days is now fully made and I'm looking forward to indulging myself in the results of that.

Pressing on.  Life is good.  Sometimes autism and mental health combine to make it very difficult indeed.  But it's a wonderful life really and I plan to make it more wonderful in 2017.  This year I've made more discoveries about myself.  Pleasing discoveries.  Next year I will live them as fully as I can on each day.

Is that a brilliant plan?

6^th December

Grateful to see a certain friend for the first time in ages.

Also grateful for Snowdog memories and for them raising a quarter of a million pounds in the auction.

Blob and Winefride watched most of the auction online although Winefride did get bored near the end and wandered off.

7^th December

Grateful to learn friend will be returning very soon.

And grateful to have achieved choir in spite of major anxiety nearly scuppering the journey.

Our first little performance is on Saturday. It'll be great.

8^th December

Grateful for a decision more than half made to join the Lit & Phil and to spend time there next year writing in a pretty distraction free environment.

This may be my new second home, already home to books such as this.

9^th December

Amanda gave me a writing prompt a while back because I asked her for half a sentence. The prompt was this:

"He saw the Christmas lights had been up for months, and he thought to himself"

Grateful that I just finished writing the draft of a story from that prompt and I am shocked at how it managed to top 15,000 words.

Grateful to be writing and for my loose writing plans for next year and the fact that there is no pressure beyond writing because it's good for me, having as much fun with it as possible, and not worrying about where the process will take me.

A year ago I wouldn't have dreamed of writing as much as I've written this year and wouldn't have thought that 15,000 words could flow relatively easily.

I wonder whether they are any good!

10^th December

Grateful for an utterly awesome afternoon at the Bicycle Garden in Fenham.

I was there for a final quick rehearsal before performing with SHE Choir at the event there.

But there were also the joys of eating stunning homemade and garden cooked food, being with excellent people, and getting smoky from the fire.

An added unexpected extra: Making my first ever Christmas wreath. Several of us made a wreath, weaving our rings out of willow and adding all kinds of good things to them.

Very happy times.

Days Of Gratitude - Sexism, Acceptance And A Farewell To Snowdogs

December.  The final month begins.

It's getting much colder.  Except when it isn't.  The last few days were much warmer than average.  On average we can I suppose expect warmer than average days since 2016 is globally the warmest year since records began, beating 2015 which was the warmest year and which beat 2014 which was also the warmest year.  Climate change is real and 2016 saw the election of a man to be President of the USA who has stated that climate change is a Chinese hoax.  There is much to be worried about environmentally - are we all doomed already?

There is also much to be worried about economically and socially.  In the UK there are increasing reports of malnutrition, one million people now are forced to rely on food banks to feed themselves, homelessness is rising and laws to persecute homeless people are being introduced.  Disabled people are losing out under government policy and the rich poor divide continues to increase.

Across the world there are wars - often fought using the weapons sold by the UK and USA - with all the human suffering that war brings, and the civilian suffering and fallout is perhaps greater than ever with so much fighting taking place not on the battle field but in the cities and towns.  The refugee crisis is increasing rather than declining and across Europe refugees face another winter.  I saw a video a couple of days ago about the situation in Greece, posted by a local woman who I've met but don't know.  Maybe next year that will change.  Her Facebook feed has lots about the crisis, about human rights, and about the humanitarian work she is involved with both here and overseas.  Since much of it is publicly shared I'll share it here.  It's under this link.  If you would like to look at the video I mentioned, Ruhi's post is here.

December.  The final month begins.

So it's not the final month is it?  It's only the final months of one particular version of a yearly calendar.

Though there is much to be worried about and much that I'd like to find a way to become more involved with in 2017 there is also much to smile about.  I've been trying to smile and be thankful each day this year.  Sometimes it's been very difficult indeed and my mental health has been wildly changeable.  But I'm glad I've done it.  I'm glad I've kept up this diary.  In another month I think I'll have stopped and will be finding another way to be thankful or to channel positivity and passion.

The final month begins.  You'll see that it's not all roses and sparkles.  But so far the month has been pretty frabjous.

Just wait until the next gratitude post.  You'll see some very joyful frabjousness.  Or should that word be frabjosity?

1^st December

Grateful for time spent with a Sunday Assembly person. Good times.

Grateful to hear Laura Bates who started the Everyday Sexism Project.

Grateful to have so much good in my life and to have written about some of it last night.

Picture is some wise graffiti seen under a bridge. Sometimes it can be easy to forget it and to want to give up.

2^nd December

Grateful for Snowdogs!

The elusive Patchwork Northumberland

I was able to take my soft toy friends to the farewell event. Really good to see the dogs again.

Bye bye dogs. We enjoyed you.

Newcastle and Sunderland Football Club Dogs

And you will raise lots of money for a good cause.

3^rd December

Very hard day.

Grateful for silly computer games.

And grateful to have spent 20p when out, on a new little friend.

This is Merghost. He's a merghost.

4^th December

Grateful for the choir. An extra rehearsal today for a couple of hours.

Great to sing with great people. And fantastic to be totally accepted as a woman within a women only space. It's the first time I've deliberately joined a women's group.

Photo was taken on a dark street afterwards.

5^th December

Grateful that I managed to get to the Sunderland autism drop in for the first time in a year.

Pictures: A sky on the way there, a light tree there, and a hopefully not to be returned to piece of the past on the way back.

Days Of Gratitude - Schoenstatt, Singing, And The Sunday Assembly

November has gone.  December arrived.

Here then are some simple gratitude posts from the end of November.  It's been a good year of trying to post in the Sunday Assembly group every day - which is what the rules say.  But I've come to a decision.  I think.

I will be stopping posting each day in the group.  I'm going to keep it up until the end of December and will then withdraw.  Next year I can find some other way to focus on the joys.  The group is almost nothing now anyway.  130 members.  Sometimes three posts a day.  Sometimes two.  Sometimes just one.  Me.  It's not really a group and it's not a place where seeing other people's joys every day brings you joy.

So I'm going to find something else for 2017.  I have another 24 days to work out some possibilities.  No pressure!  Whatever happens, I will have an entire year of days of gratitude to look back on.  And that's something very precious.

These were the final five days of November.  A period that began in a mental low and saw some improvement.  The last photo reminds me that dark days - such as 26th November - don't last forever.  There will be days of brilliant light again.


26^th November


Grateful to have got through the day.

Grateful to have turned up for something a week early. Rather than a week late.

This odd photo is from the previous Saturday. Never mind! 

27^th November

Grateful for the Sunday Assembly and for meds that enabled me to be there.

Grateful for plaques I haven't read before and for this egg from Jesmond Dene.

28^th November

Grateful to have asked for a writing prompt. The result may not be stunning but I am enjoying it.

Grateful to be able to get to a free event at the Lit & Phil with poems about stuttering.

The only photo of the day - my warthog, who was wishing goodnight to someone.

29^th November

Grateful to have been able to get to the Writers' Cafe and not walk out in a complete state as I did last week.

Grateful to be feeling amazingly better than a week ago.

That photo seems apt.  A pleasing sky for a pleasing state of mind.  It's was taken at the start of October and shows part of the view from the Schoenstatt Shrine on the edge of Bolton.

30^th November

Very grateful to be able to be at the choir after having to miss four sessions in a row for different reasons.

It means a lot to me.

Another out of time photograph, taken on the same day as I visited Schoenstatt.  This is the River Irwell.  A bright sunshine is fitting for a day on which I got back to the choir.

[As I post this on the blog, a week later, I'll be leaving for choir again very soon and enjoyed an extra rehearsal at the weekend.  We have our first ever little performance on Saturday.  Eek!]

The Special 250th Post: The Way Things Are Now. Seven Joys.

This is the 250th post.  That's an important milestone for me though, objectively, it's just another number.  I decided a while ago that I wanted to write something more out of the ordinary for this post.  Or at least more out of the ordinary for my blog.  I didn't want it just to be some days from my gratitude diary.  I didn't want it just to be some photos from an enjoyable day out.  I love both of those things and they're going to get another mention later.  I wanted something more.

The trouble was, I didn't know what that more should be.

Should I give a rundown of everything that's happened in the three years since I began posting?

Should I give a rundown just of this year?

Should I state some of the things that are important to me?

Should I list the things that bring me joy, the things that are providing meaning and centre and direction to me at this point?

I didn't know.   I'd written the 249th post - one of those with photos from an enjoyable day out.  And I didn't know what the 250th post should be.  Not yet.

Tonight something happened.  Something that only filled a few seconds of my life.  Literally.  A few seconds.  And now I know.

This evening I attended a free event at the Literary and Philosophical Library in Newcastle.  The second I've attended this week and the third I've attended ever.

I was pleased to be at this one, a talk by Laura Bates, who started the Everyday Sexism Project and wrote and compiled the excellent book Everyday Sexism.  If you haven't got a copy of that book then get one and read it.  It's worthwhile.  It doesn't matter whether the book is a real eye opener for you or whether you know it all already.  Either way it's worthwhile.

Yeah, I was pleased.  She spoke at Newcastle University a while back and I missed hearing her and was glad to be free to hear her tonight.  She spoke well.  It was clear, eloquent and highlighted many of the things that the project has expressed both through hard evidence in print, and in soft evidence of anecdotes - evidence that becomes very hard when the anecdotes are piled on top of each other, thousands upon thousands upon thousands upon thousands.

Laura Bates is great.  She is.  The project is great.  And the work that she's found herself doing since the project began is great.  I don't think she could ever have predicted it when she started what was planned as a tiny thing.  I am glad I attended her talk.

But something happened.

And it happened less than fifteen seconds before entering the library to hear the talk.

It was this:

Two women passed by me in the street.
One of them pointed at me.
She said "What the fuck is that?" (exact quote)
And they walked on.

I was surprised.  That kind of thing doesn't happen much to me.  Not recently.  But more than anything I was amused to receive such a transphobic comment when almost at the door of a talk about sexism.

Now.  I could write this 250th blog post about this incident.  About transphobia.  About the pressures on transgender people to look a certain way.  About the quest - which I confess I followed somewhat - to pass.  About the privileges a transgender person gets if they pass.  About the privileges they lack if they don't pass:  Namely the privilege to be able to walk down a street without being abused for being transgender.  I could write a lot about the meaning of this kind of abuse, about how those women were saying in effect, "I believe that a woman has to look and be like this and you don't fit the picture in my head and so, as a lesser human being, it is acceptable to insult you."

I could write about how all that fits in with sexism.  With gender stereotyping.  With sexual stereotyping.  How women are pressured to look a certain way.   How men are expected to look a certain way.  How trans women and trans men are expected even more so to look a certain way.  How non-binary people get stuck in the middle of all this and how that in itself raises a whole load more issues.

I could.  I could write lots of thoughts that are in my head - thoughts that have been developed over the past three and a half years since I realised that I absolutely needed to transition and started to tell people and live as the woman I am.

I'm not going to write all that.  Not today.  I'm not.  Because all those things are out there for you to read already.  Some of them are in posts on this blog expressed with a greater or lesser sense of clarity or coherent development.   But mainly because this is my 250th post on this blog.  And I want it to be a happy one.

I thought back to three years ago.  Three years ago my life was different.  Three years ago such verbal abuse was almost a constant in my life.  Because I didn't pass.  (And had worse dress sense and less confidence)  For a while, almost every single time I left the house alone I would receive verbal abuse of some kind.  It was really very bloody horrible.  At times I didn't know how I would be able to do this transition thing.  Perhaps without the support I had - from family, friends, Metropolitan Community Church, and the local transgender support group - I would have backed out and said it's too hard for me.

That was three years ago.  Abuse.  Abuse.  Abuse.  When alone in the street, abuse.

Things are very different now.  Abuse is rare.  I was talking with someone about this today.  About how far I have come along this path of being me.

Things are very different now.  Mostly, any abuse doesn't affect me.  Water off a duck's back.  I was feeding ducks today.

So.  My 250th blog post.  Isn't about abuse.  It's not really about the three years since starting this blog.  A blog I started in order to write about being transgender, about transition and which hardly turned out to be about that part of my life at all because, let's face it, it's actually quite dull!

My 250th blog post.  Is about some of the things that help me.  Right now.  Things that have developed during the last twelve months.  I have found this year very difficult at times.  But I am blessed in so many different ways.  These are a few of them.  Not all of them.

One year ago none of these things were in my life.

Three years ago I hadn't really thought about the possibility of these things ever being in my life.

Thing the First

This autumn I joined a choir.  Not just any choir.  A brand new choir in Newcastle.  This is SHE Choir, something that already exists in London and Manchester.

It's a women's choir.  A women only space.  And it's the very first time that I've managed to be brave and confident enough to put myself forward to be in a women only space and part of a women only organisation.  The first time.  That's massive for me.  Massive.

A friend who has never got to the choir - a friend from another singing group I attend sometimes - posted about the first rehearsal on Facebook.  I thought it sounded good but normally I might have scrolled over it.  A designated, explicitly women only space.  I'm not ready.  For some reason, probably relating to wanting to sing some more, I clicked on the group and took a look.

The group description began like this: A community choir for women, anyone who identifies as a woman, or anyone who identifies as gender fluid/gender queer.

Yes!  Yes!  That's the reason why I felt able to get to that first rehearsal.  A group description that was specifically trans inclusive.  Without that sentence I would probably have stayed away.  Afraid of not being accepted.  Afraid too of the perceived horror of possibly having to drop an octave sometimes when I sang.

I got there and found that I was completely accepted into that space as a woman.  And I cannot tell you what a relief that was, how good it felt, and how much it meant to me.  I am crying a bit while typing this paragraph because it has meant so much.  To have such a welcome and warm acceptance as a woman among a group of woman none of whom I had ever met before that evening.  It blew me away.

I've loved having that choir in my life and seeing those people each week I've been able to be there.  I love that I'll see them again this weekend and during next week and that we'll be having a little performance very soon.  I love that there is never even the slightest sense that anyone might be looking at me a bit weird for being transgender.  I love that.  Because I looked at myself a lot weird - and much worse than weird - for most of my life.

Yeah.  SHE Choir has helped me a lot.  Every week.  Plus singing is fun and I need to do more of it next year as my mental health continues to improve.  Plus there's the added bonus that I am singing the lowest of the three women's parts without yet having to drop down an octave.  Not once!  It's a push sometimes but I've hit every note without even switching to head voice.  Does that make me happy?  God yes!

I'm not the only one the choir has helped.  Someone at the rehearsal this week was saying just what it had meant to her to be there.  And there are others too who have found something that satisfies a real need they have, whatever that need might be.  It's been a force for good for all of us.

Thing the Second

I quit church this year.  After twenty-six years.  That's been very good for me.  Not because my church was a bad place filled with bad people.  Far from it, and I've already mentioned how I might not have made it through to this point without the support I found there from the moment I first walked in the door and happened to be greeted by the then pastor who within three short sentences let me know that I was in a safe space to be myself.

I officially joined that church.  Two years and a few days ago.  Much to my own surprise.

I officially left again this year.  Which was also much to my own surprise.

I am very glad I did.  Quitting, putting a definitive stop to my church going, has given me a great deal of freedom to explore more about who I am, what I believe, how I want to live and so on and so on.  I'm still exploring.  That will never end I hope.  And in the exploration I am finally learning what it truly means to live as myself and finally learning what it is that I can be passionate about without it being a self-destructive passion.

Thing the Third

I have a bus pass.  An autism diagnosis may not have brought me many practical, physical benefits.  But it's brought me this one.  A bus pass.

And it has changed my life.  In a staggeringly big way.  Especially once I got it through my thick head what having it could mean.  That didn't happen until April 22nd - a date I've written about in this blog.

I can now go places and not worry about us not having spare money to afford to go places.  Today I went to Morpeth - a Metro ride and a bus ride away.  I wouldn't have done that without the bus pass because of the cost of getting there.  Last week it was Woodhorn museum and a park.  Since April I have been out exploring and visiting places more than I have for the previous five years put together.

The bus pass has removed a worry and enabled a better life.  Which leads me on to 

Thing the Fourth

Photography!  I had taken photos before this year of course.  But I've taken far more this year and developed a love for it that may develop further as the next year progresses.

I have quite a cheap phone and it's the source of all the photos I've taken since replacing an even cheaper phone.  I'm counting the new phone as thing the fourth even though that's slightly cheating.  Oh well.  It's my blog and I make the rules!

Photos have brought me joy.   Taking them.  Posting them.  Remembering them.  A record of all the places that bus pass enables me to go and of the places I'd have gone to anyway.

Thing the Fifth

Blob Thing.  Yes.  My small pink soft toy has unexpectedly helped me.  He was made on New Year's Eve last year and I didn't know what to do with him.  The way he has become an important part of my life has astonished me.  His blog currently contains 119 posts.  And that way that's developed has astonished me too.  I love my soft toy dearly.  And I love his sister too who was added to the soft toy family in July.

Thing the Sixth

Writing.  Yes, that's new too.  It's not that I wasn't writing a year ago.  I was.  Sometimes.  It's that my whole relationship with writing has changed in the past twelve months.  I want to write about that more at some point.  A year ago I would write a blog post.  Every now and again.  I'd written a few not-good poems in the previous couple of years.  This year it took off.

After an enthusiastic beginning in December 2013, between 2014 and 2015 I wrote 57 posts on this blog.  This one will be the 176th this year.  That doesn't include the 119 posts on Blob Thing's blog.  That's 295 posts so far.  In 336 days.

But that's not all.  This year I've found the confidence to go along to something called The Writers' Cafe, a regular meeting for writers that takes place in a cafe.  The clue was in the name.  I've known about it for ages but would never attend myself because hey, I'm not a proper writer.  How could I ever hope to fit in among all those other people who must be proper writers because they go to The Writers' Cafe?

Just before the summer break I plucked up courage.  And why?  Largely because that friend who had clicked "Interested" about the first She Choir rehearsal clicked "Interested" on a Writers' Cafe session.  It sounded interesting and seeing her interest was enough to spur me to be brave and attend.  Was she there?  No she wasn't.  And I have never seen her there.  She's a very busy person and can't be everywhere she wants to be but has greatly improved my life through not turning up for things!

I found a warm welcome from the "proper" writers and was amazed to find that I did fit in, that the free written exercises we did were good for me and that what I wrote didn't seem to be total crap compared to everyone else.  In fact nothing I heard that day sounded like total crap.  We produced very different results to each other and some other people were also worried about sounding like total crap.  Aren't we a strange bunch of people.

So I went back and when time and mental health have allowed I've kept going back.  I've met good people and hope to get to know them all more next year and to meet more people connected with the many writing events that happen here.

The blog.  The cafe.  But that's not all.  I've written more at home too.  Stories.  Little bits of prose.  I wrote a 9,500 word story for Amanda's birthday and will one day return to it, improve it, and extend it.  I've written shorter stories, quite a few short pieces from prompts, things that won't ever see the light of day too.  I've written a 7,500 word monologue from an unrepentant killer.  I have nearly finished the draft of a Christmas story that will head towards 10,000 words.

In short I have written far, far more this year than I ever have before.  And I have loved it.

And that's not all.  Last month I had a moment of total clarity and as a result of that moment I gave up something in my life that could have been very good.  I gave it up and gave it away.  Because I knew that it wasn't what I was meant to be doing.  What am I meant to be doing?  Yep.  Writing.

I am very excited for next year because I know that I will allow myself to write more.  My skill will improve and I'll learn new writing skills.  I'll work through a course or two too.  I'll meet people and share the writing experience.  Perhaps I'll even find the bravery to get up and read things I've written, to perform.  And if I see something that looks exciting perhaps I'll even submit writing to publications or competitions, without caring much whether it is every published or prize winning because I'm writing it for my own joy.

Yeah.  Writing is big in my life right now.  And as I head into 2017 perhaps it's the thing that is bringing me most excitement and meaning.  I am loving it.  I find I am gradually releasing a passion into being.  I believe that writing will take me somewhere.  Somewhen.  Those unknowns are exciting too.  But if writing just leads me to my own joy and satisfaction then that's fine too.

Thing the Seventh

The Sunday Assembly.  Especially the Sunday Assembly Newcastle Gratitude Group on Facebook.  If you read this blog with any regularity or irregularity you'll have seen it and seen how I got a bit obsessive about trying to post in that group every day.

Thing the seventh is really this: Gratitude.  It's finding the joy every day.  Even on the days that are pretty crappy, the days on which I want to give up.  It's trying to look past all the rubbish bits and find that blessing in everything.  The group has encouraged me to do that and I've only missed nine days in eleven months - most of them because I was too busy doing good things and forgot to post.

Gratitude has helped me greatly this year.  As the song by Tankus the Henge says, "Smiling makes the day go quicker."  I could link that into another of the good and unexpected things this year has contained for the first time.  There's been a lot of crap in the last twelve months.  A lot of crap.  But it's been a great year.

Seven things.  That's enough.  A 250th blog post filled with happiness.  My closest friends and family might point to my list and say "What about this?"  "Isn't this thing new and important?"  My list of six isn't exhaustive.  I know full well that this year has contained many other brilliant things, some of which will come round and hit me with their meaning next year. 

The list is joyful.  It's positive.  And it all looks to my future with confidence.  This is part of me.  Now.

This is my life.  It's not quite what I expected.  But it's mine.




[3292 words]

Days Of Gratitude - A Confidence Boost, Two Choirs, And A Dinosaur Adventure

I think I can be proud of myself.  When I consider how things went on September 20th and then look at what I achieved on September 21st.  I've had bad days in the week since then - several bad days that are in part my own fault for pushing myself too hard to do something unwise.  In the space of a week I've had three days on which I couldn't get out and two days on which going out led to difficulties.

But the confidence boost mentioned still holds.  I am absolutely bright about the future and absolutely certain that I will be able to do more than I imagined.  I am also very pleased that I'm not basing this on an obsessive enthusiasm but on a bit of insight into how I function and how I dysfunction.

A while ago I was hoping to do something and it was something important to me.  But I pulled out because I didn't think I would be able to do any of it.  In part that was my mental health going through a bad phase.  In part it was panic at the thought of each aspect of it.  In part - Amanda thinks, probably correctly - it was demand avoidance.  No, I haven't got PDA but I can see similarities between that diagnosis and the way my head words.

What September 21st teaches me, alongside experiences in Edinburgh and a few other things recently, is that I can be involved with this project.  It's not my baby any more.  I passed it on to others.  But there is space for me to be involved.  It took everything in my mental power to even get to the first meeting of this project.  As the second meeting approaches I am firing not on all cylinders yet but on many of them and I know - yes, I know, that I can do a lot more than I thought.  I've just got to convince the world of this!

September 21^st



Grateful for the confidence boost in the morning when attending a training session about autism which I was in no way entitled to attend. Yep, I completely wasn't meant to be there! Photo was taken afterwards.

And grateful to just about still have the mental ability to get out later and sing. Looking forward to the next rehearsal if I can make it.  [yes, I could make it. It was last night and it was excellent.]

September 22^nd


Grateful to have got some jobs done, some of which have been waiting to be done for a long time. Part of my executive function skill problems means that things don't get done. It's not laziness. And it's not procrastination. I always thought it was. Grateful to have discovered that there's actually a reason why my brain is like it is. Grateful that discovery means that in time I can find realistic ways of dealing with it all and so function a lot better.

The photo represents electricity. One of the jobs was switching our energy supplier. I knew we weren't on the best tariff from our old supplier, the Cooperative. But I didn't know just how rubbish it was. The prediction is, if we use exactly the same amount of energy in the next year as the last year, switching will save us just over £700.

I am pleased. And also shocked to have been paying nearly £60 a month more than we needed. Every single day I delayed and wasn't up to doing the job cost us nearly £2. Blimey!

September 23^rd


Grateful to have got lots of jobs done including writing a pretty stonking follow up email from autism training on Wednesday.

Grateful to have gone and sung in the evening with people I've never sung with before. I don't know whether I will again but it was worth doing.

Also grateful that my mental health assessment went well and she is going to at least try to refer me somewhere that might be of some earthly use to me. CBT is NOT a possibility. Hoorah.

The photo is the only one taken in the day. It's not good! Jesmond in bad light on the way to the singing.








September 24^th


Grateful to have known that it was okay to leave something in the morning when I wasn't coping well.

Grateful that this left time to take Blob Thing and Winefride on an adventure.

They had a wonderful time and didn't get eaten.

And having completely mucked myself up later in the day, grateful for a decision about self care - assuming I can manage to stick to it for once.