Man, I feel like a… well like a man actually.

If you haven’t read the first post I did about this then you can read that here:

Alternatively, you can just not read that and I can save you some time by telling you that I’m trans and, at the time I wrote that post, I was in so much denial.

Last summer I dislocated my knee and spent a lot of time alone in the house. My friends came to visit me and offered me loads of support via messages but something wasn’t right. I realised that I had depression and that I had had it for a long time. (You can read more about that here:

I have always thought about being trans. I mean I repressed it a lot but it had always played on my mind; in the middle of the night when I was wide awake. My therapist helped me to talk about what I described as “the biggest can of worms ever”. 

It is the biggest can of worms ever. It has shocked me and it is the most difficult thing to come to terms with.

People often talk about friends and family having to go through a grieving process but I’m grieving too. I plan to do a post on that at some point, but I’ll just say now that this isn’t an easy thing for me to get my head around.

I question it. Of course I do. But I’m a man. I’m a man who likes Tegan and Sara and that’s ok. I mean I was an honorary lesbian for 24 years. I am a straight man who likes a “lesbian” band. That feels weird. I guess I’m going to have to explain why to people but I doubt explaining my music tastes will be the hardest thing to do. 

I hope you all likes blogs about being trans because this blog is about to be full of transness! 


Say thank you more.

I hear a lot of people telling their tiny humans to “say thank you to the bus driver!” and they normally do. Whether it’s a quick thanks, a shy thanks or a bold, almost shouting thanks I always appreciate it.

We could all say thank you more.

Here are my current thank yous:

  1. Thank you to everyone who has stood by me recently. Notable thanks to close friends (that drunkenly ring me to tell me they love me), my mum, a couple of colleagues and my therapist.
  2. Thank you to every single person who works in any emergency service. Paramedics. PCSOs. Fire fighters. Coast guards. Mountain rescuers. Police officers. Don’t listen to what “The Sun” says. Have your cup of coffee in a public place; you deserve it. Every single day you leave your house not knowing what the day will bring or whether you’ll even return home. 
  3. Thank you to doctors and nurses and physiotherapists and porters and cleaners and receptionists in hospitals all over the world. The world simply would not exist without you.
  4. Thank you to my goddaughter who reminds me that happiness can be found at the top deck of a bus or at the bottom of a tub of poster paint.
  5. Thank you to the musicians who have managed to say all the things I can’t say and better.
  6. Thank you to my favourite poet who has changed my life beyond comprehension.

Say thank you more.

Song of the week: week 33.

This week’s song of the week is Gold by Ria Mae.

I was lucky enough to see Tegan and Sara earlier this year and Ria was one of their support acts.

Her stage presence is amazing and she’s cute which always helps! Gold is crazily catchy and is definitely a song to blast in the car.

Adult life.

I thought that, at 23, I’d be married to my teenage crush and that we’d be living in our own house with little versions of us running about causing havoc.

In reality, at 23, I’m drunk texting my teenage crush at 3am to tell her that I love her. We’re friends, it’s fine, she obviously thinks it’s platonic…

I was wrong about adult life. I had visions of me effortlessly drifting through it, ticking off adult goals on the daily.


Adult life is me eating a “funsize” bag of popcorn for breakfast in the car on the way to see my therapist.

Adult life is me updating my union membership to premium even though I don’t know what it includes and it costs £10 more a month.

Adult life is me trying to find songs I like for my goddaughter to dance to that don’t involve words like “fuck”, “pussy” and “bitch”. 

Adult life is painting pottery on my day off when I’m hungover and trying not to vomit up 5 pints of cider.

Adult life is getting excited when my Tesco vouchers come through and then spending them on Pokémon cards. Pokémon cards for me. That I collect. At 23.

Is this what life is like at 30? Does Christmas ever become dull? Will I spend my pension money on cat toys for the cats that they don’t even play with?

Is anyone actually an adult?

From the outside I think I seem fairly mature and like I’ve got my shit together. I have a responsible job and people trust me with their children. Underneath that am I just an 8 year old who wants to nap, eat pizza and play in the snow? Yes. I’m not an adult. I’m a fraud. 

For the first time.

No, this isn’t a post about The Script. (However, I do like their music!)

For the first time in my blogging history, I created a post that I could not publish. It’s a post that took only a few minutes to write but will take about £300 in therapy fees to understand.

It’s deep, rambling and extremely hard to read back.

I wrote it in a moment of deep depression.

I’ve been lucky that returning to work and therapy have helped me immensely. Of course, my depression hasn’t gone over night but I have felt better. That was, until the beginning of this week.

I was overcome by the familiar feelings of worthlessness, sadness and despair and it hit me harder than it had previously done. I cannot relate to the person who wrote that post and I cannot understand why they feel that way.

However difficult it is to read, it’s massively helpful. I can do a lot of reflection based on its content and I think I will try and capture my feelings in a similar way in future.

One day, I might feel happy enough to release it out into the world but right now I’m going to protect it; I’m going to protect that fragile side of me. 

Just a little bit crazy.

So I log in for the first time in a month (we all know it’s been more than a month but…) and I’ve got a notification to say that I’ve been using WordPress for 4 years. Four. FOUR.

I was 19 four years ago. I was miserable and bored and ever so slightly heartbroken.

Everything goes so fast recently. My goddaughter has just turned 2 yet I can still very clearly remember meeting her for the first time when she was just a week old. Now she can walk, talk and boss me about. Although I cannot wait for her to be old enough to bake cakes with me and tell me how her day at school went, I cant help wishing she was still tiny and babbling and just being able to sit up by herself.

Nights out remind me that I am aging rapidly. The current gaggle of fresh faced 18 year olds are so enthusiastic and genuinely want to be in town. I get drunk so easily, don’t know what most of the songs are and take days to recover from a hangover.

Would I want to be 18 again? Maybe for a day. But then I know that in 5 years from now I will probably want to be 23 again. So maybe I should just enjoy being 23 today and stop thinking about how fast everything goes? It’s all downhill from here though, right?

Song of the week: week 32.

I am OBSESSED with two songs at the moment.

The first, “Downtown” by Macklemore, has been out for quite some time but I’m late to the party. There’s something strangely summery about its chorus and I secretly love how disjointed it is. And Macklemore is such a little cutie so what’s not to like?!

Secondly, I am loving “Ex’s & Oh’s” by Elle King (however, I find the spelling of the title slightly disturbing…). It’s not that the song is particularly relatable or that it’s an intricate song – it just works and it’s been on repeat in my car all day.

I must also admit that I’ve been binging on Olly Murs’ “Oh My Goodness”; but the less said about that, the better.