Though I fall victim to unattainable beauty standards everyday as I walk trough the streets I appreciate the uniqueness and beauty in other women but I realize there’s no woman I’d rather be than the woman I already am. 
My intent is not to discredit other women because the truth is there are so many that inspire me so many who’s passionate hearts create a glow of loving fire in my eyes I’ve found I am not them I can never be them and bring authentically true to who I am at the core and my center we don’t hold the same passions I can’t continue to model my life after another 
You see while I may want to alter my look or appearance from time to time I don’t want to be any other woman but me.
I am so ready for a rebirth while I think small ones have happened I don’t think the big ah ha moment or turning point for change has happened yet. Does it just happen or do you have to manufacture that? Is it truly within my power to just take it 
I don’t say it often enough, but I love me. Christian, Carmen, Olivia, and Jane I love every single one of your weird twisted quirky bold and dramatic facades. 
 I believe I am wise enough to recognize I will never live up to these images of the idea woman I often imagine in the mirror but that is okay because I understand this is just an idea. I am at peace with being me as I am. 

24 will be a year where I grow closer to myself more comfortable living in the moment in my own skin. 

The Burden of Passing; As Far As Love part 1

It had been over an hour from when I’d first entered the shower. And I was still sitting in the same position my face blank unchanged,unamused waiting for death to come and take me from my misery. Yes anyone who knows me knows I am dramatic as hell, but in that moment my current feelings weren’t developed over me simply not getting my way but rather because this life awarded to me as a black trans woman was too much. It felt (and often still feels) like a curse. I hated me I hated me, I hated the people around me. “Weezy”was his name, yes all of this over a boy.

Fast forwarding to this morning waking up in a hotel in upstate New York with a man I barely knew laying asleep next to me. It was five thirteen a.m. and I had a moment of clarity I’m not sure why it arrived at that moment this day in another state while in bed with a boy, but it came to me, my realization of a need to apologize. Though this clarity came to me this morning, for the past several days I’ve been in a zone. Not disengaged or completely out of touch but rather just reserved and reflective. Perhaps it was the hormones I’d taken a break from and recently resumed. Perhaps the hormones just centered me and left me harmonious and focused I’ve noticed since restarting I felt less anxious and the depression that occasionally crept it’s way into my life at least for now subsided almost as if the hormones were some major patch. I have to apologize to my readers for slacking on this story; this mini series has taken months to come to an end which was not my original intent. It’s been harder than I expect to allow myself to be vulnerable and authentic in my writing. I was scared and had not yet worked through the pain and sorrow in was experiencing so putting of writing and procrastinating came easy and for this I apologize. I also need to apologize to guy I will refer to as “weezy” who is not the only man who will be discussed in this final multiple part topic, but he is the main subject and inspired the As Far As Love mini series itself. I want to apologize to him for obsessing and not letting go I won’t get into the details about how I held on to him but even keeping him as something to mourn over is a disservice to him. The final person I need to apologize to is myself. I’ve held onto this for way too long and it’s been weighing on my spirit. I never allowed myself to heal and move on, to be free. But by the end of this final multiple part post I will be healed I will be free. 

The Burden of Passing; As Far As Love Teaser

I was silent the entire day, just waiting to get home. My friends always know when there is something wrong with me because I all of a sudden turn into a mute. Silence was characteristic I never had naturally. I was always the very vocal very bright and shiny person who was described with having a big personality and a filling presence. Which is why it makes people so uncomfortable and in some cases even irritated when I sulk because it makes a space empty.
At the time I was living in a fraternity house full of cis white boy’s which is entirely another story for another day. I walked through the door, dropped my bags in my room and turned on the shower allowing the water to run. I walked over to the mirror staring at myself for several minutes first with slight admiration then with disgust as I began to pick apart my imperfections. I sat down in a corner of the shower holding my knees into my breasts with a blank thoughtful stare on my face as I allowed the water to run over my body, face, eyes and saturate my hair. I began to cry and I felt my soul leave my body. I sat in a pool of running water numb. 

Coquettish Fetish; As Far As Love pt. 2

Though the sex was always good I felt like he was always holding back and so one night I asked him about it over snap chat. He told me he was so used to being dominant every day that he preferred when his partner took the lead in sex. This was something I’d never considered taking on the more dominant role especially as a trans women. Many of my thoughts and ideologies weren’t developed beyond the patriarchal heteronormative standards of society and I never embraced being sexually experimental. I cared about him and thought the idea was intriguing so I decided to try it.

I played into his fantasies as am dominatrix. Tying him up, seducing him in lace and leather. My MAC Red lipstick was his favorite. He’d love when it got all messy from me biting his ear, or kissing his neck, lips, and forehead. S&M was my favorite song to put on while we were in this role play.

“Cause I may be bad, but I’m perfectly good at it,

sex in the air, I don’t care I love the smell of it,

sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and hips excite me,

SSS and MMM”


And chains and whips there were. It elevated our sex to an entirely new level and I enjoyed playing the dominatrix much more than I thought I would. I think it ultimately unleashed a more unapologetic, riskier, fun, coquettish Christian that reflected outwardly and publicly. I became more comfortable with my body and more outspoken, I became the woman many of you only know me as, she was more there in E’s bedroom. Sex with him validated my obsession with Victoria’s Secret and lingerie (I’m now no longer a fan of Victoria’s Secret because I think it lost a level of sophistication around the time they got rid of their catalog but that’s an entirely different story).

I was too young and dumb to realize he was using me for sex. But the sex was good and reflecting back I was using him too. I used him to bring my love affair with Victoria’s Secret full circle, I used him to express a new understanding of femininity for me and I used him as a mental to escape from some of the other fucked up happenings in my life. I eventually learned he was seeing someone else part of the time I thought we’re in a relationship.

From E I almost learned a sense of unworthiness. My thoughts about him and what we had as well as what we didn’t have definitely was a mark of immaturity on my end to not realize that he didn’t love me. He cared and still cares about me and that is it. It was hard for me to conceptualize that it wasn’t love because I wasn’t sure that I’d ever had love. As a result the trust I once had for people is no longer there. I’ve learned to compartmentalize my feelings and desires as they relate to love. E and I still talk sporadically.

For so long I was ashamed of these physical, casual and intentionally brief interactions I had with men, but not so much anymore. But I realized at this point in my life that is exactly what I want. I don’t have the time nor am I at the place in life where I can have a functional relationship. Beyond the complications of being a 23 year old in today’s America I am also black and trans which adds an indescribable thicker layer of complications. Some girls like me have managed, but I don’t know how and currently I have no interest in that for myself. I need temporary ways to interaction with other bodies to fulfill physical and emotional needs.

I’d meet boys and carelessly make out with them dry hump them, and rarely, but occasionally I’d find one I would have sex with. I would use them then discard them often ignoring their texts or phone calls after our interactions.

Because I wanted things to end on my terms and I that because I was black and trans the ending was inevitable so I ended it before they could. In a weird way I objectify them going through them like accessories “He’s like my Cloe shoes, Betsey bag, oh he’s cute he’s like my Marc Jacobs chain, Prada shades, what’s his name? He’s my he’s my, he’s my, he’s my latest accessory” (Jordin Taylor). One of my dear friends from middle school told be a few years ago I was the most boy crazy person she’d ever met.

One of my favorite boys was this guy from Nashville. It’s easy to refrain from saying his name because as fucked up as it sounds the truth is I don’t remember it. He’s saved in my phone as “Sexy Nashville Guy”, I’ll call him SNG for short. Some of you may have seen him because last year I posted a picture on Snap Chat of us making out. He was beautiful, so cute and so flirty an amazing kisser and furry chest.  SNG was in the city on tour with a band he worked with, but back in Nashville he owned a coffee shop. He’d talk to you like you were the only girl in his world and but you knew you weren’t. The same large blue eyes that were so seductive you knew were full of nothing other than lies but you wouldn’t care because they’d draw you in; it was like he was looking right through you. Mrs. Carrie Underwood also from Nashville had the perfect song for a Tennessee boy like him, Cowboy Casonova;

“You better take it from me,

That boy is like a disease,

You’re running, you’re trying, trying to hide

And wondering why you can’t get free,

He’s like a curse he’s like a drug, you get addicted to his love,

You’ll wanna get out but he’s holding you down because

You can’t live without one more touch

He’s a good time cowboy Casanova, leaning p against the record machine,

Looks like a cool drink of water, but he’s candy coated misery

He’s the devil in disguise a snake with blue eyes

And he only comes out at night

He’ll give ya feelings that you don’t want to fight you better run for your life

I see that look on your face you ain’t hearing what I say

So I’ll say it again cause I’ve been where you’ve been

And I know how it ends you can’t get away

Don’t even look in his eyes he’ll tell you nothing but lies

And you’ll wanna believe but you won’t be deceived if you listen to me and take my advice”


Good Girl also by Carrie Underwood was a good fit too:

“Won’t you open up yours eyes it’s just a matter of time,

that you’ll find he’s no good, girl, no good for you

you’ve better get to getting on your goodbye shoes….”


On his last day in town he came over after his band played and wrapped up. I kissed, rubbed, and dry humped the shit out of SNG and I’ve never spoke to or seen him again.





Coquettish Fetish; As Far As Love Pt. 1




behaving in such a way as to suggest a playful sexual attraction; flirtatious.


“Nah nah nah come onNah nah nah come on

Nah nah nah nah nah come on

Nah nah nah come on come on come on nah nah nah nah nah”

Rihanna playing in the background as he sits in a chair in the center of the room one hand tied behind tied down, me dressed in black lacy piece from Victoria’s Secret. Lace top thigh highs connected to garters, pointed toe leopard print pumps by Jessica Simpson. Macs Mac Red satin finish lipstick circling around him. My long stiletto nails gliding across his bare shoulders. I close my eyes to focus on his smell; his body wash of choice was always Marc Jacobs. With his free hand he grabbed my thigh/ass, you know that part right underneath your butt where it creases and folds over, he pull me closer to him and so I sat on his lap straddling him pulling his hair biting his ear brushing up against his beard as he buried his face into the side of my neck.

Rewinding back to the first time I met him, E is what I will refer to him as, we met online. He was the first guy I’d ever me online. It was June a few years back. We talked for about two weeks online and we planned to go out for dinner and meet for the first time that Friday.

He was the first guy I came out to as trans which I did through text. At this point I had to experience coming out to someone I was interested in as trans. This was that period where identifying as trans was new for me though because of my gender expression I’d been read as trans a few years at this point, but that’s another story for another day. E took my coming out to him fairly well, he wasn’t elated, but he did tell me he wasn’t closed off to the idea of dating someone trans. He told me his mom was gay and she had a partner and he had queer family members so the concept of LGBTQ people was not foreign to him. I braced myself and waited for the questions about beings that I was sure would come, but never did.

I arrived at his house on Tuesday late afternoon in Covington, Kentucky where I met him face to face for the first time. He hugged me and I followed him upstairs to his apartment which sat overtop of a bar. We sat down on the couch in front of the TV, me with my vodka and cranberry and him with his straight vodka. How we ended up in his bedroom is sort of a blur. At the time I was the dingy bitch who had no idea that Netflix and chill means let’s fuck. I laid my head on chest, his arm wrapped around me resting on my waist and we laid there for a while in silence listening to Sean Paul play from my ipad.

 “From you look inna me eye gal I see she you want me

When you gonna give it up to me

Because you body enticing you makin’ me horny

When you gonna give it up to me

Well if a no today girl then a must be tomorrow

When you fulfill my fantasy

Because you know I give you lovin’ straight like an arrow

When you gonna give it up to me”

I learned that E was not a man of many words. He looked into my eyes and I looked back into his which strangely seemed lifeless. He kissed my neck and my cleavage (or lack thereof because I was pre hormones at the time) and my spidery long curvy legs that looked even longer in the nude patent leather five inch heels I had on. I untied my J. Crew wrap dress exposing my black faux leather bra trimmed with white lace. He pulled of my lace trimmed black thong and I unbuttoned his pants. I pulled his face close to mine by his beard and our lips locked. Without breaking away from our kissing he used one of his hands to slip himself inside of me.

At this point Shut Up and Drive by Rihanna was playing, the song I’d lost my virginity to years earlier. I remember my obsession with the song and its clever reference to sex using cars as the metaphor

“my engines ready to explode so start me up and watch me go, go, go, go,

goes from 0-60 in 3.5 baby you’ve got the keys now shut up and Drive (drive, drive, drive)”

When it was over E apologized to me and I asked why and he said to me “I thought I hurt you”. He on his way to pick his brother up from work he dropped me off at home we held hands the entire drive and gave me a sloppy kiss before I left the car.

I was so obsessed with him beyond being a tattooed, bearded dark, fine as shit older white boy, he was the first guy I was with since understanding my identity as a trans person. There is something about the first person you have sex with that makes you feel connected to them, but I believe for trans people there is something about the first time you have sex with someone as your true self that gives you this feeling of connection all over again. As with Alejandro he made me feel like I was the white woman in the movies who’d be the exception and go on to explore a great love I thought he was the cure to loneliness inside of me. I was never a big Mariah Carey fan (and I still am not), but I love her song with Twista, So lonely and I’d sit alone and replay our sex in my mind while listening to this song:

“I wish that we could blow up the speakers

Over and over, tell jokes and secrets

Forever your lady, you act right then maybe

Ain’t nothing to talk about, with the music loud

So they won’t hear me say

 Ahhhh hah hah hah hahhh; come and be my one and only

I’m tired of being so lonely, come hold me

 Ahhhh hah hah hah hahhh; come and be my one and only

Wanna wrap myself around you

Whenever you wanna come make me say

Ahhhh hah hah hah hahhh” 

In the months to come we texted, talked on the phone, snap chatted endlessly, hung out, and had sex. One of the most memorable moments was about three months into what I though was a relationship. We were out at dinner talking about how he still hasn’t met my little fur ball, Grayson he wanted to know my thoughts on us. I looked at him, leaned in across the table and quote Mya’s My Love is Like…Wo:

“What kind of girl you like?

I know my looks can be deceivin’

Tell me am I your type

My main goal is to please you

What’s on the schedule tonight

Am I the reason you’ll be treatin’

I hope you have an appetite

So tell me, baby, will you come and spend the night

My love is like…wo

My kiss is like…wo

My touch is like…wo

My sex is like…wo

My ass is like…wo

My body’s like…wo

And you’re kissin’ it

So what you think of it”

Under the table I buried my stiletto in his crotch. He closed his eyes and ran his hand across my leg. When we got back to his place I turned on Sexy Silk by the lovely Jessie J and began to unzip my Calvin Klein dress that zipped from neckline to hem exposing the strappy bra and thong that was literally a triangle with a thin strap.

“Boyyyy I will be your sexy silk

Wrap me around round round round

I’ll be your pussy cat licking your milk

right now down down, down, down 

Will you be my medicine man

Put your hand on my chest feel the bump bump bump bump

Will you be my sugar rush make me get high with just one touch

A kiss can last all night

You’ll have to seduce me nibble and bite

But oh no no no

Woah woah

Go slow baby dont


Yeah I can feel it baby can you



Woah Woah Woah woah woah

Boyyyy your gonna win

Say yeah yeah yeah yeah

You’re under my skin

I’ve got butterflies within


I think I love you”
That night we had sex three times.