Poke. Poke.

It feels good to be busy. City life is demanding, and I've never been so glad to lose my free time. While I'm no longer able to devote long hours for self-reflection as I've grown used to, I find that I no longer need to. I've got a firm grasp on my identity, and now I just need my body to catch up. The changes are proceeding in a slow-and-steady manner, which I suppose is really the best way to approach something so important. Well, actually scratch that, I'd like some big tits now, please.

Guy mode is still more common than girl mode. It takes a considerable amount of preparation for me to be satisfied with my female appearance, and it just isn't feasible for me to spend so much time every morning getting ready. I'm thankful that I can default and be scruffy when I want; it's easy to throw on a shirt and pants, then pretend to be a boy. I'm pretty good at it, although it's getting harder to be convincing. My face is a lot softer, having lost whatever ruggedness it once had. And while my voice hasn't actually changed, I find that I no longer speak all the way at the bottom of my register. Effectively my voice is a little higher, and I also don't put quite as much force into my words. 

Girl mode rocks my world. With a leather jacket and combat boots that make me 6'2", I make a pretty butch girl, and I absolutely love it. I spent a single night in a Chicago bar dressed this way, and I got a lot of attention, but it was an entirely new experience as a girl. As a gay dude, I'd been approached by guys at Vice Versa, and we were always on even footing, equals. This was different. I'll admit that I probably just had a run of bad luck, but at the end of the night I was ready to just be a lesbian. Holy shit, seriously guys, learn some manners. 

It may seem that at this point that I'm on cruise control to lady-town. There's a lot of bumps in the road that I didn't consider beforehand, though I'm sure any biological girl could have warned me. For example, one of my jobs is in retail clothing. On days when I work there, I spend a lot of my time around simply gorgeous girls trying on clothes. While I don't actively ogle the customers, it's hard not to notice that they have the shape that I want. I'm tall and, even though I'm slim, I'm still mostly boy shaped. I simply will never have the body that my mind has decided is ideal for a female, and that thought can get me pretty down. As a good friend pointed out to me, the same is true for all girls. 

I'm not entirely boy shaped, though. In my 5 months of hormone therapy, I've put on 16 pounds, and most of it's been ass and hips. Hooray for not being a stick! My chest is growing too, and while I don't think that they're big enough to deserve a letter yet, they are certainly big enough to poke. And I do, all day, every day. 

Poke. Poke. Poke.