Three weeks planned for two years gone forever.

Bang. Click. The sound of the door slamming shut, followed by a twist of the key locking. He finally let the rest of the tears free – flowing down his face straight to the floor to join countless pieces of a broken mug.

 

The mug, in its initial stages of life, was part of a special gift for his boyfriend. Birth day. Joyous. Just a week ago.

Fuck! What did just happen? How did I get here? His boyfriend, with answers to those questions was gone. Out the door back to his fictional life.

Bang. Click. The door shut behind him.

It had been three weeks of harmony. Three sets of seven days day dreamed for two years. The plan, developed over two years, was for his boyfriend to find service and the two of them to live happily ever after. They would love each other to eternity. Breaks to endless sex. Hobbies shared. Marriage.

A perfect plan.

 

It was meant to unfold two years foregoing to the three weeks of harmony. Distance stood still. Miles between the two different provinces they each called home were an unmovable hurdle. They ran somewhat a successful relationship making use of text and digits. Facebook. WhatsApp. Email.

Turned out outrageously wrong.

 

He made a breakthrough, a result of sleepless nights working towards a dream. Landed a decent job; another successful step of his career. Naturally, he saw it fit to help out his boyfriend.

Distance varnished.

 

Two years of frustrating planning was now all worth it. They were loving each other to eternity. Breaks to endless sex. Hobbies shared. Marriage.

N.O.T

 

It lasted for three weeks. The love was interrupted by doubts. They were both not so good in endless sex. Arguments so frequent they resembled hobbies.

Break up.

 

A careless mistake led to appalling revelations. His boyfriend never loved him.  Pretence. His boyfriend told lies. Deception. His boyfriend was not his boyfriend. Bogus identity.

Cheated. Used. Fucked.

 

Bang. Click. The door slammed, shutting out three weeks planned for two years.

Gone forever.

 

I fed my trust to jealousy infested snakes and con artists disguised as boyfriends.

 

Like a gifted prophet my mother foresaw it a long time ago.

Like a naïve little boy I took her wise words for granted.

Now, a million heartbreaks and countless failed relationships later, I look back to what my mother told me.

She said:

“No one, absolutely no one, in this whole world, other than family and God, will ever have your best interests at heart. When you feel like my love and comfort and guidance are insufficient, kneel down and seek more from God.”

In my life I have met so many wonderful people…or at least I thought they were. I became friends with the most convincing back stabbers. I trusted snakes infested by the plague of jealousy and I fell in love with serial cheating con artists disguised as loving and faithful boyfriends.

They came into my life; I allowed them into the depths of my heart. I trusted them, not only with my valuable materials but with the most valuable components of my being.

I don’t learn do I?

I mean three attempts by three different people to crush my most hard earned possessions should be enough to wake me up, right?

One tried, and later partly succeeded in driving the one man I’ve ever loved away from me. That man, in turn, tried to tarnish my dignity and crumple my confidence to an unrecognisable blur of strange emotions. The third made an almost successful attempt to burst one of my dreams.

Wait, there is a fourth one – the one that tried to steal my identity and turn everyone against me. That didn’t go far though. Very few can imitate my realness.

With just a month of 2013 to go, a chunk of my trust has been, once again, crumbled and another friend gone.

Deja vu.

Something similar happens each year.  This year was pretty intense though – the “love of my life” made a very noticeable exit leaving me with question marks to fill his absence in my future.

Then another prominent  feature in my life smacked me across the face with a rock hard lesson. A lesson of trust; a reminder that trust it too precious to just disseminate so carelessly. The messed up part is that my mother had oh-so gently given me this lesson, long before I had to learn the hard way.

Perhaps the problem lies on my too trusting nature. Perhaps it’s my kindness or maybe my choice to always grant people the benefit of a doubt?

I don’t know. But I’m happy to announce that my pride is still intact, my love still as strong as ever and my ambition is very much alive.

All I’m left with to do is to strengthen my trust and apply it to God and to Him alone.

 

She’s a boy, he’s a girl and together they are L.O.V.E

“Who fucks who?”

                                          “Which one is a girl?”

                     “They are both so girly! How does it work?”

   “What is your role in the relationship?”

www.autostraddle.com

Some of the super annoying questions that have been asked to me and my fellow trannies regarding our relationships.  

*sigh*  

Coming from a box minded member of the heterosexual bunch these questions are kind of tolerable. I mean, if you grow up in a community where your entire existence is questioned, you sort of get used to such nonsense.

BUT!

If another gay person is gonna start asking such questions about another gay person – shit gets ma-jor!

I have been trying sooooo hard to ignore it but it’s becoming too prominent. While the heterosexuals are drawing lines between female acceptable norms and male acceptable norms, gays are busy pasting labels on what’s masculine (or supposed to be) and femininity.

WTF!

Though this is kind of funny and almost too stupid, it does make my pink blood boil a little. In a world where minorities (gays being one of those groups) are oppressed solely for being different, wouldn’t it make a bit of sense for the minorities to stick together? Or at least understand and, oh gawd, tolerate each other? Or even maybe embrace each other’s differences?

According to me, it would.  But to…

-          Those so called ‘straight acting’ homosexuals discriminating against effeminate gay boys,

-          Those raving queens looking for butch boys to treat them like women,

-          Those little whores,  fags, gay boys whose priority should be their school books, but the next shag from another manly man is more important,

…none of that makes any sense. To them, no broken wrist should love another broken wrist – not in that way. They wonder how two majorly feminine trannies make love, how two fems run a successful romantic relationship.

 

 

The simplest definition of homosexual is:  a person who is sexually attracted to members of the same sex (not that being gay is all about sex: please be educated). To further simplify it, this means a boy that prefers to be intimate (sexually and emotionally) with another boy.
Oh, it does also apply to girls.

Now, how did femininity and masculinity come about? Why complicate things by adding ideal characteristics to each party of a homosexual union? I mean, gay people are generally misunderstood, so why all the complications?

Let me tell you: love is love. Sex is sex. Genitals are genitals. It really doesn’t matter what kind of body they are attached to or come from. Really, it doesn’t. As long as all these are utilised appropriately – we are good.

Okay? Thank you! Bye!

P.S: Tell me a story of any gay person that has ever questioned a relationship between two “straight acting” gay people.

I am back! Yes! Again!

I know its kinds shocking how long I've been gone. But I am BACK!

Goodness! It’s been exactly seven months since my last post! If that’s not embarrassing, I don’t know what is. I mean, not even my recent break up could have been this heart breaking!

Anyways,

I am back! No, really I am. Quite a lot has happened in my life since that last post.

I got a new job – a dream job at that (not quite), moved out of my mother’s house (phew!), graduated (yay!), enrolled for my Master’s Degree (honestly), broke up with The Papi (I’m no longer sad about it), my business started picking up pace (so excited about that)  and…and…and I am sooooo gonna post about it all!

Stick around and we will have fun darlings!

Oh, welcome back to moi!

<3

Marcia - the girl who lives in me.

Marcia is the kind of girl who is totally unapologetic about voicing what floats around in her fluffy brain. Words such as “bitch” and “fuck” are prominent features of her vocabulary. She is not scared to tell you go away when you start to annoy her. In most cases her irritation will be caused by your bad hair day, your chipped nails AND your hot mess outfit.

A girl with no makeup is beyond her understanding. Anyone in grasshoppers can forget about getting a second look from her.

Marcia lives in me. Sometimes she manifests at very odd times. Her presence is mostly felt in public transport and too many times before, she has got me in a lot of trouble.

A bucket list of 100 things to do before I die

BFFs Part II

Gosh! I just remembered that I promised that I’d give you a low down on the dynamics of my friendship with Wanda and Randy. You must have turned to mould from all the waiting right?

Ours is the kind of friendship that was planned long before our birth. The way we connect, understand each other and stick out for one another is just amazing – totally beyond words!

I met Wanda seven years ago while I was still in high school. My first impression of him was that he is stuck up and a bit of a nerd. He was always so reserved and walking on his own. Till this day, I still cringe when I think of how much I misperceived him!

Wanda is the most welcoming, selfless and loving human being that has ever entered my zone. I initially had a crush on him. I am always interested in the mysterious types – I have an irresistible urge to uncover the unknown on a first hand basis.

Thank goodness my quest to make him my boyfriend did not succeed! Today Wanda and I share something that no power couple could ever achieve; unconditional love coupled with tremendous care for each other that is almost brother-to-bother like. Sometimes I firmly believe that he is the brother that my mother secretly gave up for adoption.

Not a million words can ever express how much I am grateful to have him as a part of my life. He has been with me during the most trying times of my life, helped me through them and celebrated my successes with me.

Wanda & I

 Then there is Randy, whom I met three years ago through Wanda. A sweet soul hailing from East London on the Eastern Cape, Randy is the kind of a friend that would do absolutely anything to ensure a smile on my face. I have never met such a caring person in my life (my mother is an exception, of course).

I thank God and Wanda’s ex boyfriend for bringing Randy to my life! Randy came to Cape Town in search for a better job. The fact that he had been in a long distance relationship with Wanda’s ex boyfriend’s best friend was a bonus. Finally, he would get to live closer to his long time sweetheart.

Unfortunately, things did not work out and he found comfort in mine and Wanda’s arms, which he would later return with so much love, appreciation and extreme loyalty.

Quite honestly, I cannot begin to imagine my life without these two amazing friends. How we get along is amazing even to me.  A complete retard can tell at first glance how different we are from each other from the way each of us dresses to the kind of music we each enjoy. However, we have this amazing ability to fuse our differences together to form this wonderful friendship that nothing on this earth can compare to.

Randy & I

I will forever be grateful to God for blessing me with such beautiful friends.