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My Sexuality
... and a bit more

 

The nine letter word "sexuality" is the entrance door to an extra-ordinarily complex subject:

  • "Sexuality" [1] - the properties that distinguish organisms on the basis of their reproductive role

  • "Sexuality" [2] - sexual feelings, thoughts, attractions and behaviours towards other people

  • "Heterosexual" - sexually attracted to members of the opposite sex

  • "Homosexual, gay, lesbian" - common terms for people who are sexually attracted to members of the same-sex

Since 1970, over 90,000 books have been published world-wide that include the word "sexuality" in their title! 

Rather than discussing a subject that I don't understand, this article is instead just a few meandering thoughts about my own sexuality - which I also don't understand.

For most adults a question about their sexuality is easily answered - and the answer doesn't change from puberty to death.  I'm somewhat of an exception as a I consider myself to be a heterosexual woman who was once a heterosexual man - a statement has caused some debate, including by myself!

As a young man I never seriously considered myself to be homosexual, whilst as a middle age woman I have never felt any strong lesbian inclinations.  In between there have been many months, even years, where my libido was negligible, and I wasn't attracted to either men or women.

For convenience and to save time I generally call myself a transgender woman, i.e. the 'T' in now common term 'LGBT'.  However I don't feel comfortable with medical definitions such as "Transgender people have a gender identity expression that differs from the sex that they were assigned at birth".  I have also never considered myself to be "a woman trapped in a man's body", or any of the similar phases often used by transwomen when speaking to the media.  Instead - after many years of agonising - I finally reconciled myself to being a "man who needs to live as a woman".

 

Male - Part 1

As a teenage boy I was attracted to girls but had no serious girlfriends and no sexual relationships.  I was also vaguely envious of girls (dress, make-up, lifestyle, ...) and wished that I was one - without having any sexual interest in other boys or men.

In 1976 I read in newspaper about "sex-change" transsexual tennis player Renee Richards.  That was a life changing event - thereafter my thoughts would became ever more dominated by the desire and possibility that I could actually live as a woman. 

At university and in my first job thereafter I stretched to the limit my male-female life style.  I was often assumed to be "gay", but still had no sexual interest in men whilst women could arouse me.

Female - Part 1

Despite all the potential problems, the urge to live as a woman got ever more intense as the years passed.   In 1994 I changed both jobs and countries, primarily in an attempt to the resolve what had become serious mental health problem.

I began taking female hormones primarily to help improve my physical passability as a woman.  However my male sexual urges (libido) soon dropped to nearly zero and revived only slightly during the periods when I stopped taking the hormones

 In late 1997 my life seemed to be moving inevitably towards transitioning and living full time as a woman.  Intimate sexual relationships with men appeared inevitable, indeed I was becoming stressed about that possibility that something bad would eventually happen if in extrema I was unable to have intercourse as a woman.  I was regularly learning about pre-SRS transwomen who had been murdered by disappointed rapists or assaulted by dubious boy-friends - and my luck would run out eventually. 

Replacing my penis with a vagina became urgent and I after some research I submitted an application to book my SRS.  The staff of the prospective surgeon emphasised the finality of this procedure and asked if I was absolutely sure.  I was about to say "yes" and send the deposit when I unexpectedly met a wonderful girl - Ellen. 

Male- Part 2

By the end of my first meeting with Ellen we were already becoming best friends, and we met at every opportunity over the next weeks.  It soon became obvious that she wanted an intimate relationship with me, whilst I was infatuated with her - which resulted in total mental confusion as to my sexuality.  I stopped taking female hormones and after three months our relationship finally included sexual intercourse.  However, after the initial explosion of feelings my physical attraction to her began to diminish.  When we had sex I wanted to be the woman, not the man - and I had to imagine this in order to get aroused.  Ellen became my muse, the woman that I aspired to be, rather than my lover and prospective wife. 

Female - Part 2

After less than a year with Ellen my female urges had reverted stronger than ever.  I went back on hormones and our relationship quickly ceased to include coitus.  We sadly parted ways in 1999 when I embarked again on the road to living as a woman and full-time transition ... Ellen tried hard to accept this but ultimately couldn't.

After parting from Ellen I desperately wanted to be sexually attracted to men - and them to fancy to me.  When I again started to appear in public as a woman I wanted to be considered as a sexual object by men - lewd comments, pinched bottom, 'accidental' gropes ...  Regardless of the appalling overtones, I needed something to give me confidence that I was passing as a woman.

I also began to actively examine men and consider whether they were "hot".  I watched many old romantic and soft-porn movies and tried to imagine myself as Ingrid Bergman, Mia Farrow or Meg Ryan.  Reading women's magazines was very important in helping me to help develop a female perspective, vocabulary and point of view.  I can also certainly recommend teenage girl magazines for advice on sex, love and men that is just as applicable to a transitioning transsexual woman in her 30's!  Nevertheless, my libido was still minimal.

[Being a transsexual woman was a really dangerous proposition in the 1980's and 1990's.  Many years later I see constant complaints by openly transgender women about how hard it is for them to get a date with 'a straight heterosexual men'.  I consider that even being able to seek such a date is as a sign of just how much things have changed.]

Female - Part 3

At the end of 2000 I finally transitioned full time.  This seemed to flick a switch and I found myself starting to get attracted to men on an oddly random basis - some were definitely not 'hunks' physically.  I suspect a combination of reasons:

  1. My body and subconscious mind had been bombarded by "female" signals from hormones and anti-androgens for many years

  2. Now that I was living as a woman, my interaction with other men and women had changed dramatically

  3. Some men clearly found me attractive as a woman, and (unless they were totally ugly) it was strangely hard not to reciprocate

  4. I wanted to be attracted to men rather than women.

I was increasingly curious and even eager do more than imagine intimacy with a man, casual conversations with men began to result in severe distraction and blushing on my part.

One night I awoke after dreaming out being ravished and raped by two men.  Worryingly such thoughts were a turn-on rather than turn-off. 

My First Sexual Experiences as a Woman
In mid-2001 I started a job as an Account Administrator for a computer company.  Soon after I unexpectedly had to make business trip to the Middle East as a woman - which caused problems at immigration.  The Chief Executive Officer of an important client I was meeting went to considerable trouble to resolve the issue, without having ever met me.

On the last night of my trip he arranged what I can only call a banquet in the midst of a desert, and I was unexpectedly invited to sit beside him.  It became obvious he found me to be attractive, culminating in being serenaded!  At the end of the night I was both very tipsy and flattered by his attention.  Somehow we ended up alone with him serenading me  ... before anything happened I tried to explain that I was transgender, which I later realised he already knew. 

I made several more trips over the next few months and enjoyed the VIP treatment, but I was increasingly reluctant to have physical intimacy - particularly after I began a relationship with a boyfriend.

 

My First Boyfriend
About seven months after my transition I was both panicking and flattered to discover that I had acquired a determined 'would be' boyfriend.  I was hugely embarrassed when he started to leave me romantic notes and small gifts.  At the time I thought that I kept a discreet distance from him, but years later an old colleague posted a photo showing us holding hands at a social event months before I recollect accepting his existence!  He definitely never got more than a quick good night kiss from me that night.

In October 2001 he somehow persuaded me to go on holiday to Cyprus with him.  He gave me absolutely no time to think or worry about it and defeated my resistance with "it's already paid for and I can't get the money back".  After some frantic shopping and packing we were on the way to Cyprus just days later.   

It was only as we took off (holding hands) that I finally accepted that I had a boyfriend, and thus was now someone's girlfriend.  Just two years before, I was the boyfriend.

However, one thing very much on my mind was that we were clearly on the verge of being intimate without ever having discussed my "medical condition".  When we arrived at the hotel the promised single rooms inevitably turned out to be one double room - years later he still claims that this was a mistake by the hotel.  It was that room or nothing, and he was a total gentleman that night and kept his distance.  But ever since agreeing to go the holiday I had been thinking about us making love and had mentally accepted that. I thus lay awake most of the night waiting for something to happen - and disappointingly nothing did.  I now began to worry that he wasn't actually attracted to my physically and sexually!   Almost as bad - I had spent the last two days starving myself and clearing my system for clean anal sex - and was now seriously hungry.

Don’t want you for the weekend
Don’t want you for a day
Don’t need love divided
Don’t want to feel this way
See I want you to need me (the way I need you)
Just like I need you (the way I see you)
And I want you to see me
Like no-one before

The next day remained awkward, but in the evening the wine flowed and we began to get more intimate.  He's always maintained that because I took my top off I was in fact the initiator of what happened thereafter.  Certainly, we both had a lot of long pent up desires and finally explored each others body.

There was soon no holding either of us back and I mostly loved it.  But his libido went crazy and I being woken up in the early hours by the groping hands and erect penis of a man looking for "seconds" or even "thirds" became a bit annoying.

He  was also constantly trying to hold, massage, stroke and even intimately fondle me.  I was not used to this and found it uncomfortable and tried to insist on us just holding hand in public.  When this didn't work, I tried the opposite tact and responded by teasing him rotten, to the extent that he embarrassed himself in public.  He calmed down thereafter!

Despite the problems resulting from his excessive enthusiasm, being courted and making love to a man as a woman is different from making love to a woman as a man.  It was wonderful to be woo'ed and pampered and wonder what he was going to try next, frustrate him, slowly start to give in, and then surprise him with a treat!  

During the holiday I had many wonderful experiences that I'll always remember and still treasure - and it's the probably the only holiday where I lost rather than gained weight!

 

My Breasts
After I started hormones, my budding breasts were a constant source of both happiness and grief pre-transition - fondled by men in night clubs but disliked by a female partner.

About a year after transitioning I became intimate with my boyfriend.  He enjoyed my breasts immensely, indeed they were essential for him to be sexually excited by my body and be able to accept me as a woman. 

After we started to share a bed I realised that the real function of breasts is to give a man's hands something to play with until he falls asleep - just when the woman is getting interested!

My breast development stalled at a very obvious but also relatively modest B cup.  I had mixed feeling about it, but in January 2002 I had breast augmentation surgery at a local clinic to increase the size of my boobs to a full C cup [a saggy D cup a decade later].  The bigger bosom suited my build, and my boyfriend was delighted with the results.

 

Sex Re-Assignment Surgery (SRS)  Part 1
After I transitioned there was an obvious visible mismatch between my claimed sex and naked physical appearance.  I had a penis - small but nevertheless a penis.

At the time of my transition in December 2000 I was hyped up to complete my physical transformation and undergo sex-reassignment surgery as soon as possible, and I put £10,000 into my Special Reserve Savings (SRS!) account for this specific purpose.  But SRS was impossible to obtain quickly as the reputable surgeons I contacted wanted a letter of referral which stated that I had lived 12 months (some required 24 months) in the social role of a woman - the infamous but well justified "real life experience".  [I've since discovered that most surgeons have dispensed with this requirement, which with the benefit of hindsight, I strongly disagree with.] 

In the weeks and months immediately following my transition, I had absolutely no sex life and getting SRS became an ever-lower priority in the midst of so many other daily challenges and problems - which having a vagina would do nothing to alleviate.  I also stopped worrying about using ladies toilets or changing rooms, although occasional bad experiences such as body searches had me panicking. 

I never had the hatred and aversion to my penis that some girls describe - indeed after I transitioned I felt that the pressure from family and close friends for me to "get on with it" and have SRS actually exceeded my own desire.  Maybe it was my imagination, but the progress on my SRS seemed to be an under-current in every conversation I had with someone I hadn't spoken to for more than a week.

In late 2001 my life finally started to become a little more settled and I became intimate with my boyfriend.  Whilst I was able to keep him happy sexually, my lack of a vagina was a constant if unstated problem.  After a lot of research, I booked my sex-reassignment surgery with Dr Suporn Watanyuskul in Thailand for May 2002.  He had a low profile compared some surgeons on Canada and the USA, and also used a fairly unusual SRS technique that he had helped to develop called the Chonburi Flap, but I chose him for several reasons:


(Left) The vulva of a CIS woman and (right) two of Dr Suporn's patients about a year after SRS.  
  • Strong recommendations from several transwomen I was chatting with
  • The excellent appearance of the vulva's and labia of patient photos provided as a reference
  • The promise of a sensate clitoris and at least a 15 cm (6 inches) of vaginal depth - even with limited penile and scrotal skin
  • The re-use of the Cowper glands to provide lubrication when sexually aroused
  • No need for genital hair removal
  • Reasonable cost compared to North American based surgeons, even including travel and accommodation costs

Another factor was his International Patients Coordinator, Kie Lertsubin - who was herself transsexual.  Unlike some other clinics she quickly responded to my every email and arranged for me to speak to the Doctor himself when I expressed concerns about the procedure he used, when penile inversion seemed to have become the accepted best practice.

  

Orchiectomy
Disaster struck when I was made unemployed in November 2001. I soon had no choice but to dip into my SRS money to complete my laser hair removal treatment and pay other urgent bills.   However a friend had recently had an orchiectomy (castration) and was very pleased with the results, a job offer prompted me to quickly have an orchiectomy myself before I began work.  The decider was calculating that an outpatient procedure at a London clinic would cost just over £1200 ($1500) - barely a tenth of what my trip to Thailand would probably cost - although I lost my deposit.

I tried to treat the procedure like finally going to the dentist after having a bad tooth ache for ages.  It was totally the right and wrong time to take such a drastic step because of its irreversibility, however I knew that I had to "burn the bridge" in order to get on with my life as a woman.  It was the best decision I ever made, the pressure was finally off - I was no longer physically male and could never be again.  Whilst I was also not physically female and could never be that, it had now become just time and money before I was much closer to being female than male. 

It's hard for me to independently judge the results and effects of the procedure - but within weeks I was certain that it had made a very positive both mentally and physically.  After the proceeded my occasional but sometimes strong inclinations to revert to male finally ceased - this alone was worth the cost.  My emotions and mood could still widely swing from happy to depressed, but perhaps not so depressed.

I no longer had any doubts that I was a woman and became increasingly 'bold' about this - running in the Dublin Women's Mini Marathon in June 2003 was a particular milestone, but not one I will ever repeat as I can only go downhill after managing to finish in the top 1,000!

Having the orchiectomy also reduced the feeling that I was under pressure to have SRS because I had transitioned, and it was the expected next step.  My mother was wonderfully supportive but almost too much, for example I would get a phone call every time a programme was on television that had any transgender content, and every few months I received a packet of articles out from magazines and newspapers. 

I was generally satisfied with my body and didn't feel a pressing need for more surgery.  If I could have waved a magic wand I would have happily exchanged the remains of my shrunken penis for a vagina but failing that I had no rush to undergo a serious and expensive surgical procedure. 

An unexpected change after my orchidectomy was that my sexual interest recovered slightly from zero.  I began to occasionally get sexually aroused - but the process and thoughts were different from my recollection of a now distant 'male' past.  I first realized this when watching the 2003 Rugby World Cup and I found myself seriously fancying hunks such as Jonny Wilkinson and Frédéric Michalak.  My remnant of a penis even swelled a bit, but not enough to worry about unless I was wearing a bikini - and I've never watched rugby in a bikini!

Note:  If you are considering having an orchidectomy then it's important to remember that the results of a subsequent vaginoplasty will tend to be less satisfactory (e.g. reduced vaginal depth) because there is less material to work.  For this reason some surgeons - including Dr Suporn Watanyuskul (my surgeon) - are reluctant (although unlikely to refuse) to perform SRS on patients who have already had an orchidectomy  A good guideline is that if you expect to have SRS within two years then an orchidectomy is inappropriate for you.

 

Sex Re-Assignment Surgery (SRS) Part 2
My boyfriend (Martin) was very supportive when I had my orchidectomy, but also obviously hoped I would eventually have SRS, or "bottom surgery".  When we got engaged in March 2004 it seemed wrong for me to marry as a woman without being able to consummate the marriage as a woman.  Just two days later I rebooked my SRS surgery for October with Dr Suporn Watanyusakul in Thailand, although I was informed that he was not happy about the fact that I had had an orchidectomy since my original booking - this meant he would have less scrotal material to work with and he was thus less confident about the results. 

The long flight to Thailand was difficult as I was stressed out, not helped by being surrounded by happy vacationers.  On arrival I spent two days in a local hotel to adjust and then wait for the results of the HIV test required by Dr Suporn  - which was clear. 

I had a pre-op consulation during which I was asked many questions (often intimate) about my life and warned that the surgery was irreversible.  Dr Suporn examined my genitalia and warned me that as result of my years on hormones and orchiectomy I didn't have enough skin left for him to construct a deep vagina.  He suggested a skin graft, but I refused this having seen photos of the permanent scars this will leave.

The day before my surgery I checked in to the clinic and then underwent various tests (including a rectal enema!) before having my genitalia shaved.  No food and no water thereafter! I didn't sleep at all that night and it was a relief to be formally woken at 5 am, although there was still a long wait before I was prepped, a saline drip inserted into a vein and a finger connected to a heart monitor.  I was finally anesthetised at about 1 pm.

I apparently came to about five hours later and asked for a cup of tea, but have no recollection of this.  It was the next morning before I emerged from the anaesthetic haze and remember being offered breakfast and nibbling it a little.  To my surprise there was initially no pain, but unfortunately this didn't last and the next week became pretty horrid with occasional sudden agonising bursts of pain.  I tried to take comfort from assurances by the nurses (most had good English) that this meant I was healing, and that my nerves were still intact and functioning. 

For the first five days I was completely bed bound.  Martin was staying in the nearby hotel and visited me daily, but there wasn't anything else he could do to help me beyond being there - he was often bored silly.

Day six was a big one as the virginal pack and catheter were removed - it was painful but not as bad as I feared.  I had expected/hoped to be delighted that I was "finally a women", but when I finally got a decent view of my crotch I was more horrified than delighted - it was a bruised mass of stitches and bloody unhealed scars.  In a day of many firsts, Dr Suporn showed me how to dilate and I painfully tottered to the toilet for my first pee as physically a woman - although it was a bit messy.  The next day I had a badly needed shower and then did my make-up for the first time in week - I was over the hill!

By the start of the second week I was recovering and was being encouraged to walk about; socialising with the other girls and supporting each other was a highlight of the whole experience.  One thing that I was thankful for was that I had long ago completed the laser treatment for my facial hair, it was impossible not to notice that several of the other girls grew substantial and embarrassing stubble before they were able to shave.


Kie (right) and Num (left), a fellow patient.

After two weeks the swelling had gone down a lot and my vulva was starting to look like a vulva rather than a shot from a horror movie.  On Day 15 Dr Suporn gave my vagina an intimate examination, and thankfully found no complications.  He gave me further instructions as regard dilation and post-op care, and approved my discharge.  To celebrate I briefly ventured to a nearby bar for a toast with Kie and a couple of other patients.

 

 


Interesting fact: In a 100+ transits through Irish customs at Dublin airport, the only time I've been stopped was when my suitcase contained the dilators, lubricants and creams I needed after my SRS.

 

The flight back to Ireland was another horrid long journey, but this time I was probably more cheerful than the returning vacationers.  I couldn't help but have a big smile when we landed.  Unfortunately this disappeared when I almost inevitably got stopped at customs and had to explain things the contents of my luggage in uncomfortable detail.

Three weeks after my SRS I married my man; it was a wonderful day but sadly I was in still in no state for nuptial adventures and the sexual confirmation of our marriage on our wedding night. We originally had grand plans (Bali, Australia, Hawaii... ) for the honeymoon, but in the end we just booked a few relaxing nights at a 5* hotel in Ireland - I simply couldn't have done more.

Dilation Dilation Dilation
After SRS I barely had three inches of depth - certainly not enough for satisfactory sexual intercourse.  A lot of work was required.  In the first month after my surgery I had to dilate four times a day and each dilation theoretically took  30 minutes - but actually about an hour including preparation and clean up.  Dilation was both painful and weird.  My vagina was not fully healed and my nerves were all mixed up, my genitalia were very confusing mentally - the nerves had all been moved around and were still repairing and reconnecting. 

Two months after SRS my vulva had largely healed (although with still obvious scaring) and I reduced my dilation to three times a day.  The swelling had almost gone and I was reaching a vaginal depth of 5 inches with my dilation. 

 

Sexual Intercourse
Four months after my SRS I was largely healed, I was now diligently dilating 'just' two times a day and reaching a vaginal depth of nearly 7 inches. 

The time had come to break my virginity ... I romantically ambushed my hubby and we finally consummated our marriage as man and wife. 

When chats with trans friends turned to sex, post-SRS girls invariably played up the joy of a clitoris and vagina over a penis for sexual intercourse.  However by this stage I was very jaundiced about promise vs reality as a transwoman, I thus had low expectations for my first experience of coitus and wasn't disappointed.  It was a worrying and quite painful experience for me as my vagina was stretched and moved about by his penis far more vigorously than anything I had done when dilating, and I was scared that something would "break".  I tried not to show it but sexual excitement and an orgasm were the last things on my mind.  Thankfully all went well and afterwards my satisfied husband reassured me that my vagina had felt wonderful to him, I didn't want any more detail than that! 

Thereafter we were sexually very active, whilst the pain slowly disappeared I still didn't feel much physical stimulation or sexual excitement myself, which was disappointing after everything I had been through.  I knew that having sex as a woman (vagina...) would be very different from having sex as a man (penis...) but my body and brain only slowly adopted to having a 'hole' rather than a 'rod' - there were occasions where I certain that I had a penile erection.  I was having to mentally associate what had been my penis and scrotum with what were now my clitoris, labia and vagina, it was all still weird and sometimes painful.  After a year of frequent sex - His ejaculations 100 : Her orgasms 0.

As the months passed, my body slowly continued to heal and my mind adjusted to having female genitalia.  I also re-learnt how to get sexually excited.  I discovered that wearing some provocative lingerie helped me at least as much as my partner.  Foreplay was essential to turn me on - some polite attention to my ears, neck and nipples paid dividends in helping to get my mind focussed and my body prepared for sex.  After many frustrating "almost there" moments, I realised that I was still trying to do too much mentally - I needed more physical stimulation of my nerve scarce vagina.  My husband wore a ribbed condom and three years after my surgery I finally had my first female orgasm.

A decade later I now fairly regularly orgasm, perhaps 1 in 10 times that I have intercourse.  A slightly annoying aspect is that if I climax I then want to repeat it, but my husband is rarely up to the job - more than once anyway!

Whilst I initially doubted the advantages of possessing a vagina over a penis for vaginal coitus (penetrative sexual intercourse), I've reversed my opinion.  Advantages I've found include: the greater diversity of enjoyable physical positions; much increased mental excitement; enjoying the physical stimulation of my clitoris (not too much, not too little, just right!); exercising pelvic muscles that I never knew I had; and a prolonged capacity for sex - subject to the danger of the man's wilting erection!  Also, post-orgasm, a general feeling of well-being and a greatly reduced level of stress.

 

Appearance
Dr Suporn delivered in-line with my requests and six months after my surgery the healing was well advanced and the general appearance of my vulva was pretty good, although it needed a little refinement and tidying up.  Two years later I returned to the clinic to have "Cosmetic Improvement".  This was a purely aesthetic secondary procedure to improve the appearance of my vulva when nude and remove a 'camel toe' appearance when wearing panties.  Specifically the procedure was to:

  • narrow my labia majora

  • extend the labia minora to the vagina entrance

  • tidy up the hood of my clitoris

The procedure made no difference as far as having sexual intercourse was concerned. 

However, I was a bit surprised to later discover that some personal details and photos of my intimate parts were being used by Dr Suporn on his website and in presentations.  I apparently gave permission for this in one of the many forms that I signed whilst at the clinic.

A few months later I couldn't resist surprising my hubby by buying and wearing a skimpy bikini when we were holidaying in Portugal.  I felt that it was my last chance to physically show off a little as a woman before I got too old and too fat.  Whilst I may not have matched Ursula Andress in appearance (Dr No, 1962), we still talk about it many years later.

 

A Neo-Vagina is Hard Work
The ability to have "on demand" sex that satisfies both me and my husband means maintaining at least six-inch (15 cm) of vaginal depth.  As the months passed after my SRS I was thankfully able to gradually reduce the number of dilations whilst still maintaining the depth.  One year post-SRS I moved to just one 20 minutes of dilation session every day - in the evening I will go to the bedroom and dilate whilst watching television soaps.  Initially it was very annoying to go through this boring routine but it's became a habit like brushing my teeth.  As a bonus, I would sometimes get a lucky a few hours later - in the first few years post-SRS my husband would critique my progress (really).

Without regular dilation or intercourse my vagina can quickly shrunk dramatically.  For example, I had flu and was unable to dilate for 12 days.  I then had to dilate for 30 minutes three times a day for a week to recover a six-inch depth. 

My neo-vagina thankfully doesn't suffer from the unpleasant smells, vaginal discharges, regular infections or irritation reported by about a quarter of transwomen.  However to pre-emptively avoid some reported problems, every two weeks I do a douche (i.e. a thorough rinsing) of my vagina with warm water.  I'm not actually sure if this is desirable as I may be damaging the "good" microflora that colonise my vagina.  Unfortunately I've not been able to obtain clear medical advice as to whether I should douche or not.

Update January 2020:  Fifteen years after my SRS I dilate once a week - usually at the end of my lovely Sunday lie-in.  Combined with occasional sexual intercourse this has become enough to maintain adequate vaginal depth.  I've also stopped douching unless I have a UTI - although this remains all too common.

 

Another Down-Side
Post-surgery I suffered from a slight but embarrassing urinary dribble that required me to use sanitary pads.  I was instructed to undertake Kegel exercises - basically pelvic floor muscle exercises - daily.  It took me several weeks to figure out how do these (I lack some muscles that CIS women have), and then establish an exercise pattern.  This eventually largely solved the problem but added yet another task to my daily routine.

I've subsequently learnt from bitter experience that on a long day out it is still wise to insert a sanitary pad in my panties - better safe than very sorry. 

I'm actually slightly annoyed that it wasn't suggested that I began Kegel exercises as part of my post-SRS regimen.

 

Finally ...
I wrote on this page in 2007 that "After over 40 years of mental agony, hormones, cost, surgery... I'm still totally confused as to my sexuality.  In the space of a few minutes I can encounter a beautiful woman and a male hunk - and be attracted to both.  I have to agree with people who suggest that the commonly accepted model of just two sex's/genders (i.e. male and female) is far too simplistic.  .... As a post sex reassignment surgery male-to-female transsexual woman, am I really a homosexual, lesbian, bisexual... ?"

Interestingly, a decade later I find it hard to relate to this.  It took me fifty years to finally arrive there, but I'm a heterosexual woman in what seems to have become a very complex LGBT+ world!

I also originally said on this site that the results of my sex reassignment surgery (SRS), aka gender confirmation surgery (GRS), aka bottom surgery, were excellent.  But surgical techniques continue to improve and even after a touch-up procedure I wouldn't have high hopes if I entered the Vagina Beauty Pageant, yes it really exists! 

You can read more about me here

  


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Last updated: 10 January, 2020