Summary

The website content is a personal narrative detailing the author's journey through gender transition and self-discovery, culminating in a realization of their sexual identity as a transgender woman who identifies as sapphically gay.

Abstract

The author, Victoria Quinn, shares a transformative period in their life, marking a new chapter in their series "Puberty 2.0." The narrative reflects on the past, acknowledging previous writings that may now seem embarrassing but served as a catalyst for growth and healing. Through introspection and the sharing of personal experiences, including struggles with dysphoria and the joy of self-acceptance, the author arrives at a profound understanding of their gender and sexuality. The journey is characterized by moments of clarity, the shedding of shame, and the embrace of life and love as a queer trans woman.

Opinions

The author views their transition as a source of tranquility and holistic healing, indicating a positive transformation in their life.
There is a sense of embarrassment about earlier writings, yet they are valued for their role in the author's and others' learning and healing processes.
The author emphasizes the importance of sharing personal stories, including awkward and shameful experiences, to foster communal growth and understanding.
The concept of "la petite mort" (the little death) is linked to the author's interest in both masturbation and the broader theme of death, suggesting a connection between sexuality and existential contemplation.
The author has set aside their sexuality initially to focus on gender identity, leading to a period of intense introspection and the realization of their sexual orientation as a lesbian.
The experience of shaving body hair is described as significantly reducing dysphoria and contributing to a better understanding of the author's gender identity.
The author expresses a newfound elation in fantasizing about dating as a woman, emphasizing self-acceptance and the desire for genuine connection.
There is an acknowledgment of past attitudes that resembled a slow suicide, contrasting with the current embrace of life (memento vivere) as opposed to a previous preoccupation with death (memento mori).
The author openly discusses their sexuality and plans to share further details about their experiences, indicating a stance against shame and in favor of openness.

Puberty 2.0

Is Transgender Happiness a Fantasy?

Sexuality was set aside, so gender goals could be gained; Gratitude forever reigns, I have come alive!

CW: Sexuality, masturbation, suicide, poetic suicide. Transgender elation.

Beloved readers, this is not something I had planned to write about a week or so before I come out to my family, and yet I feel so utterly compelled, that I have no choice. Let’s hope they don’t stumble upon this anytime soon, but if they do, let it be a testament to the true tranquility and whole healing (body, mind, and soul), my transition has begun to bring. Today marks a novel epoch in my life and for Puberty 2.0, a new chapter containing cathartic clarity.

Memento Mori

Remember you must die

Perhaps not even my most dedicated followers will recall my first post published here, an apocalypse of transgender triumph; an egg cracked. And a lot of it is embarrassing to me now. My writing was rusty and disjointed. I divulged quite a bit in intimate detail. But one lesson I’ve learned after nearly 38 radiant revolutions is that by sharing those awkward, embarrassing examples, others learn, we heal, and soul-sucking shame is shunned.

I implore, allow allusion, afore’d forgiveness, for this, a mid-spring respite of prosing purpose.

Apocalyptic Egg Cracked

It’s awesome, and I mean this in the truest sense of the word, it is awe inspiring how songs I have listened to for…

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It seems a theme, my meticulous masturbatory memories, as I’ve continued to expound, in ever effusive earnest, explicit interest in exclusive elation. And so it should come as no shock that one obsessed with la petite mort should also devote to death.

Masturbation / Self-love

If you’ve read my previous post / egg cracking, you’ll probably note that I used to masturbate a lot. If it wasn’t…

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Optimistically I pleaded and pined, and openly opined that opportunities of opposite orgasm I would find, fearing forecasts of failure and a forced forfeiture of fateful life. Desperately deserved desires once drearily dreamt, worn, and wrought, (found following frolics and frisks), were fortuitously fraught with feminine thought.

Puberty 2.0 — HRT 2: Electric Boogaloo

Desperately deserved desires…

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If I have confused, with clarity crashed, think of these, as nothing more than scribbles scribed by the raving mad, sleep-deprived, and thoroughly trashed.

Are you still with me after that nonsense? Really? Wow, you are a little masochistic and we should be friends.

Memento Vivere

So Remember to Live

When I started this journey six months ago, I told myself I was going to set aside my sexuality and focus on my gender. Realizing I was a transgender woman was enough to tackle without conflating it with sexual desire. The past few weeks have led to intense introspection and cosmic clarity. I am nowhere near finished exploring my gender or sexuality and any related expression therein, but I have reached one conclusion.

I am so, so, soooooooooo sapphically gay!

I’m guessing I’ll end up with my own pan/demi/sapio version of personal sexuality at some point, but for now, I’m happy simply being a lesbian. I am Queerly Trans. Read on for how I arrived at such a revelation.

I’ve been shaving my arms, stomach, and chest regularly for a while now, but I was neglecting my legs. I shaved them once, pre-HRT. Finally, the other day, I took the time and got rid of all my leg hair, temporarily at least. I should have done this months ago. All that unwanted hair was making me incredibly dysphoric, more so than I really understood.

Last night, and by last night I mean early this morning, unable to fall asleep, I let my mind wander and fantasize. I’m unsure of the last time I’d done this or if I’ve ever actually done this without any outside influence, i.e. porn. Full disclosure, I did read a few chapters of a new friend’s erotica. But my internal, personal fantasy was unrelated and hours later.

As my mind frolicked mentally, my hands caressed physically, ever so gentle. I was so freaking turned on. And not by the ever grander, elaborate, and obscene testosterone-induced scenarios that were driving me mad. This fanciful flight was so simple. A date with a woman, and me as the woman I am, right now, currently, inhabiting this body, for real, like for really reals. Not someone else I thought was hot, not even my FaceApp photo fiction. ME! Now! As I am. I am elated.

I won’t elaborate on my internal erotic endeavors in-depth here, I do intend to write it elsewhere. I didn’t achieve a long-sought-out full-body orgasm this time. I now have a strategy that will accomplish that goal in the near future. I’ll write about that as well because I have no shame and that’s a good thing.

For most of my “adulthood,” I maintained an attitude of slow suicide for reasons that eluded me throughout. I wasn’t actively seeking death but I wasn’t living either. I’d say things like momento mori and remember we die, touting it as a darker carpe diem. But I left out the second half and in doing so, its essence.

Memento Vivere! Remember to live!

Resplendent regards,

💜 Victoria Quinn 💜