Stealth Time

I've spoken a lot about the need to move on and this need has only really intensified this past few weeks. My life has changed a lot recently, in a number of different ways. I'll fill you all in shortly regarding everything that's been happening but the main one has been my new job. It has been so good to just be me, to not be Emma the transsexual and to be Emma the woman. I guess that although this new found freedom that living in stealth brings is great, it has also added a few complications to my life. I'm not naive to believe that I can stay in stealth forever and I know that someday my history will come back into focus again. I am pretty keen to keep it under wraps for a while yet though.

Of course to hide my history means to delete the Internet! I have a pretty large Internet footprint, this very Blog being a couple of toes on that footprint. The first volume of this Blog, 'Breaking Free of the Bud' offers another sizable chunk on that footprint. Then (and this is the biggest Internet signature I have) there is Facebook. I have been unbelievably open on Facebook regarding my history. I 'came out' on Facebook, have regularly posted updates regarding my transition and posted old photos. Most of my facebook friends were from the trans community. I say were, because I have since deleted that facebook account. I needed to for many reasons. Some of my workmates will have been looking for me on Facebook so to stay in stealth I needed to remove the trans element from my profile. At first I went through my profile page with a fine tooth comb, removing old posts and photos that referred to my past life. In the end though, I decided that the only way to ensure that nothing 'got through' was to delete the profile and start again. It feels good though, to start with a blank sheet. It feels right somehow. 2012 is proving to be a year for new starts for me for so many reasons. Of course, the biggest new start could occur right at the end of the year should everything go to plan.

So, if you've received a new friendship request from me then it's my new profile so please accept it. If you haven't then I am sorry, I just need to keep my Facebook page separate now. This whole facebook thing doesn't mean that I'm ashamed of who I am or that I'm completely distancing myself from the whole trans thing. Various developments will become clearer over the coming days that will hopefully shed a lot more light on why I need to go stealth a bit more.

The New Job, An Update

     So 3 days into my new job and how is it going? Well, it's going fine. It's different and it's taking some getting used to. It's a smaller kitchen and there's no function or banqueting work. It's also a much smaller kitchen team. I am enjoying it but I do hate the first week when you start a new job. I'm not sure what it's like in other trades but in Catering most Head Chefs have their own ways of doing things. That means that a lot of what you know alters when you start a new job. The basics still count and certain ways of doing things but alot sort of goes out of the window. An example is that I needed to make an Onion Jam the other day. I learned how to make Onion Jam years ago and so I started to gather the ingredients together. Red Onions, Brown Sugar, Red Wine, etc. The Head Chef saw me and told me another way of doing it. To be honest, his way is better but the fact that I'd been making it this one way for the past 12-13 years and it suddenly went out of the window. It is really like starting again.

     Saying that, I am starting to get into the swing of things now. I'm getting on really well with the other staff too which brings me onto the part of this post that you really want to read. How are things going regarding my living in Stealth. Well, my gender hasn't been questioned yet. It's been great not having the whole transgender thing hanging around my neck like a millstone. To them, I'm a woman and that's fine by me. With my last job, although I knew that when people referred to me as she they meant it, the fact that they once knew me as him, weighed on my mind. Here, they only know me as I am now. Of course, one day I may have to come clean. When that particular bridge comes I'll cross it, until then I'll just enjoy things.

New Job, New Start, New Future

I've been quiet for a few weeks which is usually a good thing. I tend to post on this blog when I have a lot on my mind. A lot has been happening recently though, most good I must add. I've recently written on this blog about the need to move on and start again and this past few weeks I have started moving on. I have a new job which I start on Tuesday (17th April). This is a hugely momentous thing in my life, not least because I'll be starting it as a woman. In the interview I didn't mention anything about my history and so they've employed me as a woman! It is huge as it gives me the opportunity to start again in a place where they don't know me, where they don't know my history.

     Of course, starting a new job means that I have to leave the safety of Ringwood Hall Hotel. Ringwood is safe for the same reason that I'm eager to start afresh, they know me. They've been so good to me there, so unbelievably supportive. I started there back in 1999 as a fresh faced 17 year old and stayed until the beginning of 2003. Six years then passed during which time I did a couple of Summer Seasons in Spain and three years in Bakewell. Then, in the summer of 2009 I found myself once again working at Ringwood Hall Hotel. I think that fate played a role in my return to Ringwood as it was here that I began my transition less than a year later. I don't think that I could've transitioned anywhere else, with as much support. It is for that reason that I will finish my last shift there on Saturday night with a heavy heart.

     There are many reasons why I'm leaving Ringwood, most work related. This new job is a real opportunity in terms of the better standard of food I'll be doing. It's also a Sous Chef role which means that I'm a step closer to Head Chef. It'll also be more money once I get past the 13 week probationary period. It is a fresh start too and I'm really relishing the challenges that that will bring. I've found a passion for food that I'd forgotten I had and I'm really looking forward to testing myself in different ways.

     The fact that it is a nicer place has taken my mind off the main issue of my history. At the end of the day I'm a woman to all intense and purposes and my history shouldn't matter, doesn't matter. The fact that I'll need 3 months off soon will matter though. I do have a bit of a bit of a plan for when the opperation comes round, I'll tell you about it closer to the time.

     In the mean time I'll be essentially living in stealth which will be kinda new to me. Sure I've had small moments when I've been in stealth but working in stealth is a new thing which will present it's own set of challenges aside from the actual work. They are challenges that I'm relishing though and the actual risk factor is a pretty big buzz.

     I have made a lot of friends at Ringwood and I have had some good times there. It'll always hold a place in my heart now due to it's role in my transition. The support has been fantastic and were certain things different I would probably stay there, at least until after the op. I am ready for that change though and it does feel like the right time. I'll keep you informed as to how it goes, you can be sure of that.

'It's Time'......Or Is It?

It's been a while since my last post but a lot has happened so I think I'm off the hook. Life tends to get in the way sometimes doesn't it. The truth is though that if I don't post then things tend to be going well. This is only really a quick post because I had a dream last night. I dream most nights such is my over active imagination but last nights dream was special somehow. It was my first dream about the operation.

     I was in the hospital although I can't really remember seeing any other patients. I'd been in for a month for some reason and one night I got woken up by a nurse who said simply 'It's time!' I got dressed (for some unknown reason) and put my phone and purse into a safe that was embedded in the wall above my bed. There was a keypad and a key and the code for the keypad was printed on the side of the key. The safe itself was tiny. I'm not sure why the small things like that are so clear, dreams are strange things. Anyway, at this point I got a look around the ward. All of the other beds were empty. The time was around 5am although it wasn't dark, just dusk like. I asked the nurse if I could go to the loo and she said 'yes, of course. Be quick mind because you're to go down at 5:05am prompt!'. I quickly went to the loo and sat down in the cubicle. At that point I realized that I hadn't had any hair removal or even shaved at all down there. I began to panic so made my way back to the ward. For some reason I was wearing a pair of skinny jeans with a hospital gown. The nurse was in the nurses station emptying the fridge into a bin. She was throwing a lot of food away. I said to her 'I've not actually seen a surgeon yet, are you sure it's my time?'. The nurse smiled and said 'No one sees the surgeon love, you'll be fine.' Then she led me down stairs, down flights of stairs. The last thing I remember before waking is a set of turquoise swing doors in front of me with a white light emanating from them.

   I awoke and for a moment reality took a second. It seemed to boot back up as I realized where I was and that the dream wasn't real. Despite the strangeness and coldness of the dream I was actually really disappointed to wake up. Anyway, that's the reason for this post. I will do a proper update in due course, so much to tell you.

My 20's, The Decade That Made Me - Part 2

22 Years Old - 2004
When I was 22 I did my first stint abroad. I had gotten a job working in a restaurant in the Spanish Resort of La Manga Club. I'll never forget my leaving do in Widnes and as I left on that rainy Sunday afternoon, I left with a very heavy heart. I had made a lot of friends there and most are now Facebook Friends. I think that one of my biggest regrets is that I didn't stay in Widnes longer. I was there for 14 months and should really have stayed for a few years. I can't say that I left for a worse place though as La Manga was a great place. I can still remember how nervous I was about it all. I had left home over a year earlier but moving countries was a different kettle of fish. Pretty soon after arriving though I was settled and once again I made loads of friends. I had to play the male role but I had a good time. Summer was hard work in the restaurant but I played hard too.  I'd often get in as the sun rose but I was young and I don't regret any of it.

     Moving to Spain meant that I had to give up 'dressing' for a while. It was hard but the work kept my mind off it. In June my Granddad sadly passed away. I can still hear my mum telling me over the phone and it hit me really hard. I hit the drink a bit too much and actually flew back for the funeral. I flew home on the day before and flew back on the day after. This actually gave me the chance to retrieve some of my female clothes and take them back with me. That also meant that I could indulge in my dressing a bit although living in a shared, I had to be very careful.

     The original plan was to stay in Spain for the Summer. This changed though and I decided to stay on. I guess I'd gotten myself settled and I'd made a lot of friends. The winter was different to the Summer though. It was quieter and although this made work easier, it meant that there was nothing to do on your day off. It got colder so the pool and the beach was a no go. I began drinking more as that was literally all there was to do. The business picked up again on Christmas week but as soon as the New Year came and went, it was back to nothing.

     One day at the end of January 2005 something snapped and I walked out of my job. While everyone went out for staff tea, I packed up my knives and had it away on my toes. I ran up the dirt track behind the restaurant to a bar called Q Bar where I popped onto the internet and booked a flight home. Then I began drinking. The Head Chef found me and had a bit of a chat but my mind was made up, I needed to be back in England. Two weeks later that's exactly where I was. I must admit to feeling a tinge of sadness as the plane lifted off. I felt like I was perhaps leaving too soon as though I had unfinished business. What I didn't know at the time is that I'd be back again to tie up the loose ends.

     In the meantime I'd managed to secure an interview at a hotel in Bakewell. It was The Rutland Arms Hotel and had a job for a Chef De Partie with live-in. I'll never forget standing at the bus stop in Chesterfield, waiting to catch the bus to my interview. It was snowing and all I could think about was that in La Manga it'd be a nice warm day.

     I got the job at The Rutland Arms (after a morning trial) and in mid February I moved into the staff accommodation. It felt really odd, that first night. I'd been allocated a small box room and it just didn't feel right. Although I'd only call that box room home for a short time, The Rutland Arms Hotel in Bakewell would be home for 3 years and would play an important part in my life.

23 Years Old - 2005
     I settled into The Rutland Arms pretty quickly. The Head Chef was a big Irish man called Bryan and he loved his radio 2. He also had a deep rooted Irish heritage as his menus showed. Every dish seemed to be served with a form of mash potato! The 2nd Chef was a short South African called Jimmy. I was Chef De Partie alongside a guy called Stuart Pearce and another young guy called Mark. We were a pretty close team and I fitted in really well.

     During those early years I enjoyed a drink and I always searched out a place I could call my local. It was important for me to find a place I could belong and I found that place in The Red Lion. It was just over the road from the hotel so was ideal staggering distance. The owner had arrived in Bakewell a few weeks before me and was called Gary Roberts. He was a lovely man, always up for a sly after hours drink. He was also pretty crazy but that was all part of his charm.

     During that 1st year in Bakewell, Brian left as did Stuart as did Jimmy and Mark. In fact 7 months after I started, I was the longest serving Chef! More chefs were brought in though in the form of Matt (Chef de Partie) Josef (Breakfast Chef), Howard (Sous Chef) and Brian (Head Chef). That was possibly one of the best teams I worked with in terms of the laughs we had. We also worked damn hard.

     Outside of work I tended to frequent The Red Lion and even got to the stage where I could ask for my usual (Corrie style). I became friends with Gary, the landlord, and even built up a bit of social circle. Of course the year couldn't go completely tragedy free as the joy of my younger sister giving birth was quickly replaced by despair as little Ruby died.

     It hit me really hard and on the day of the funeral I headed back to Bakewell. I spent the evening getting drunk and I ended up in a pretty bad way. I'd only seen the baby once and I couldn't understand how something like that could happen. It just seemed so cruel. Towards the end of my 23rd year, I began organizing a Sponsored Walk in aid of a cot death charity. I had the help of a man called John who I got to know. That man though is pure proof that you don't really know anybody.

The Only Thing Different In Bakewell

To celebrate my birthday I'm writting up some posts to tell the story of my 20's. I'm hitting the big 3-0 you see and my 20's have been pretty huge. Anyway in a few posts I'll spend some time writting about a time of my life when I resided in Bakewell. I spent 3 years living and working there between 2005 and 2008 and it's a time which I can look back on with a certain amount of fondness. Tonight (almost 4 years to the day when I left) I went back.

     A friend called Sophie had been in Bakewell during my time there. A while ago she moved down to London and last week I noticed (via a post on Facebook) that she was popping back to Bakewell for a few days. A couple of messages followed and we arranged to meet up tonight in Bakewell at my old local, The Red Lion. I'm not going to talk a lot about my time there before as I'll be going into that in some depth within the next few posts. The Red Lion was my local though and I spent a lot of time there in my previous life. 

The Bridge into Bakewell.

     From the moment I woke up I was terrified. I experienced a constant nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt like I was entering the lions den and in so many ways I was right. Despite being full-time for nearly 2 years, none (bar 2 people I saw at a wedding at work last year) of Bakewell had seen me in my present living state. Many had heard on Facebook and I'd had a favourable response on there. I knew Bakewell though and I knew how little it changed. I knew that I'd see the same people who I saw 4 years ago and some wouldn't know about me. This feeling of terror continued right up until I drove into Bakewell. The familiar road wound down into the little valley and as I rounded the last corner the church spire came into view. I drove over the small hump back bridge into the small town and drove towards the square. Bakewell is made up of a couple of main roads that all connect at the Square. It is a small roundabout with the big Rutland Arms Hotel (where I used to work) beyond. I turned left at the square and headed to the main carpark. After a quick text to find out where my friend was I headed to the Red Lion. This meant a short walk of about 3 minutes through the back streets of Bakewell. It seemed so strange to be walking through Bakewell, past familiar shops that I hadn't seen in 4 years.

The Red Lion in Bakewell.

The Square and The Rutland Arms.

     I rounded the corner and headed towards the front door to The Red Lion. I paused for a moment, almost hesitating. I had walked through these doors so many times before but this time was different, so different. For a moment I thought about turning round and walking away but then my decision was made up for me as some came out. He held the door open for me and I walked into the Red Lion. I spotted Sophie straight away and after a quick hug and introductions to the other people on the table we had a bit of a chat. It felt so strange to be sat in this pub again. I had spent many a night here in the past, many a night sat at the bar nursing a pint of bitter. Despite the owners, the pub looked just as it had 4 years ago. While we were sat there, some people came in. I recognised them straight away and I could've been witnessing a scene from 5 years ago. 

The Wheatsheaf in Bakewell

     After The Red Lion we went to The Wheatsheaf. The 'Sheaf' was essentially my 2nd local in the past. I used to watch the football there and they did a good pint. While there another friend I used to know, a girl called Tracy, came in. I used to work with her father at the hotel and I asked her how he was doing. Some one else I used to know, a man called Andy, came in. He didn't recognise me at first although I'm sure he did by the end of the night. While in the Sheaf I answered a few questions that Sophie had. She wanted to know all about my transition and I told her all I could. 

     Soon the end of the night came and I headed out to my car. Sophie and her parents (who had come to give her a lift back) were parked near me so I walked out with them. Just as we were leaving the Sheaf though Andy beckoned me over and with a bit of a hug he said 'you don't need to be shy, we're all ok.' Now for him (a phil mitchel look-a-like) this was acceptance on a huge scale. 

     After saying my goodbyes to Sophie I was soon in my car and heading back home. I really enjoyed myself although it felt too strange at times. Bakewell really never changes. I saw loads of people who I knew from before and all of them were doing exactly what they did 4 years ago. Some of them were even wearing the same clothes! I will always have a soft spot for Bakewell but I am so glad that I left when I did. I certainly wouldn't be on my present path had I stayed. I would also probably be doing exactly what I did 4 years ago and that is a thought that terrifies me. I am so glad I went back though as I got to catch up with old friends. I also realised why I left Bakewell and I'm so glad I did. I will be back in Bakewell at some point and I'm going to make a point of catching up with Sophie again soon. 

     

My 20's, The Decade That Made Me - Part 1

In a weeks time I'll hit 30 which means that I'll be bidding goodbye to a decade of my life that's been the making of me. I think that the 20's are important in anybodies life. It's usually the period during which you settle down with someone, buy your first house, have your first child. It's also the period in your life when you tend to grow up and see the world differently. My 20's has been a bit of a crazy time. I've not settled down, brought my own house ans kids are definately not on the horizon. I have grown up though and I have changed. Ten years ago I was a 19 year old chef. I was still really confused over things but I'd found a good middle ground. I had a small collection of clothes and dressed up whenever the time allowed. It wasn't very often but it was enough. Anyway, here is the review of the decade that made me who I am today.

20 Years Old - 2002
The 20 year old me was different in so many ways to the me that's writting this blog. He was shy and unconfident. He was naive and a dreamer. He was also a few pounds lighter and he was a he. He was a chef at The Ringwood Hall Hotel and had just completed his NVQ in Catering. Right, I'm going to stop referring to him in the 3rd person now. I had just completed my NVQ in catering and I guess I was pretty settled in things. I was reasonably happy in my job. I had a small collection of clothes hidden in my bottom drawer. I wasn't really sure of who or what I was. All I knew is that something wasn't quite right. One thing I didn't know though was that in 10 years time I'd be living as a woman.

21 Years Old - 2003
21 was a big age for me and a huge year. I had just moved up to Widnes and was working at a hotel  there. This meant that I had left home and I really enjoyed the independance that this gave me. It also gave me the opportunity to really explore my feminine side and it's something that I did with gusto. I purchased my first wig and shaved my legs for the first time I also added to my fledgling wardrobe and finally discovered that I wasn't alone. In July of that year I purchased my first laptop. I had begun doing my NVQ level 3 in catering and thought that a laptop would help me do the paperwork. Getting that laptop was possibly one of the most important things I did. It meant that I could access the internet for the first time which meant that I could find others like me. I discovered the support forums and worked out a place on the spectrum. I liked to dress in womens clothes and I loved to feel feminine. It wasn't a sexual thing for me, it never has been. It's just something I did. Towards the end of my 21st year I began to think about working abroad. It was something I wanted to do and by the time I celebrated my 22nd birthday I had a job pretty much in the bag.

To be continued.......