I'm ready for my close up, Mr. Demille.

The topless photo shoot a couple of weeks ago was fun. But then Kate suggested that I do another shoot, full monty this time. I said yes at first, but since then I've had serious reservations. I don't hate my body as intensely as I did when I was a man, but I still cringe sometimes at what forty odd years of testosterone poisoning has done to me. Someone actually wanting to celebrate this chimera of a body made me increasingly uncomfortable the more I thought about it.

I have a very dear friend who loves trans bodies. She thinks that women without penises are unnatural and weird. She yells at me when I talk about my freakish exterior. I wish I could share her enthusiasm. Perhaps one day I will, but for right now I must sit in the sauna alone, meditating, and trying to come to terms with my unusual physicality.

It has been working...somewhat. I've been weight training for over a year now and frustrated with the lack of progress. Sure I can leg press 400 pounds, but if anything I've actually gained weight over the year. But today I caught a glimpse of myself in my black ninja work out clothes (did you really expect me to wear any other color?) I decided that even though my weight hasn't changed and I have no hips, I don't look half bad.

Wiccan women see their lives as passing through the manifestations of the Goddess (i.e. Maiden/Mother/Crone.) My problem was that I was thinking that if I didn't have a Maiden phase, my body was imperfect. I see now that this was ridiculous. I'm 58 freaking years old. When other women are settling down into their crone-hood, I'm actually kinda rocking the mother phase. I'm actually looking forward to doing the full monty now. 

Of course, that was Kate's whole reason for suggesting it all along.