Profile for Jayneflakes:
Sort of moody looking, mildly irritable, Long hair, own teeth. Stuck in a self perpetuating cycle of hating hate and being intolerant of intolerance. I am not artistic and am useless with photoshop, but I can do handstands in the bath and wee! I am lying, but it seemed better than not being able to do anything at all.
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- a member for 2 years, 10 months and 5 days
- has posted 195 messages on the main board
- has posted 8 messages on the talk board
- has posted 14 messages on the links board
- (including 11 links)
- has posted 65 stories and 151 replies on question of the week
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Sort of moody looking, mildly irritable, Long hair, own teeth. Stuck in a self perpetuating cycle of hating hate and being intolerant of intolerance. I am not artistic and am useless with photoshop, but I can do handstands in the bath and wee! I am lying, but it seemed better than not being able to do anything at all.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Will you go out with me?
Tis a sad and sordid story that ends happily with lesbian lust!
I split up with my Ex some time before, not because we hated each other, but because I think I wanted it more than him. He was lovely, but alas not The One. You see, my Mother read my Tarot and told me, you are going to meet a guy, but he will not stay and then you will meet the one.
I turned to Gaydar Girls, a lovely sight of a site where lots of beautiful elegant ladies all ignored me or told me that they just wanted to be friends.
Then I had a message from out of the blue. "Sat here sulking, scanning profiles, thought you looked like the sort of person I would get on with so thought I would say hi."
Hmm I think, sulking, sounds like my kind of girl so I replied and said that I was still a bit heart sore being freshly single by a couple of months. Then ping, a new message arrives. "Being just out of a relationship then we are both in the same situation, maybe we could 'not settle down' together sometime?"
We ended up swapping messages for ages and in the end even Gaydar Girls got fed up with us and we turned to e-mail and then phone calls. I missed her first call, I was doing something private, being recently post op TS (Oh the shock, I am admitting that I am Transsexual and a lesbian all in one post! Trans and proud me...)I needed to catch up with my physio. She left me a profane and ear splitting message on my answer phone that had me in fits of giggles.
I phoned her back and we talked non stop for an hour, exhausted we wished each other good night.
Then I was attacked in work by a group of school kids in a trans-phobic attack. I mention this because it is important. I left the area rapidly for the house of a good friend, who lived an hour and a half away from who shall for now call the one. The time away was just what I needed, but my heart ached to be so close to the one and yet so far away, also my friend, although a wonderful artist was experimenting with house dust and spider webs and I have a dust allergy.
The one met me at the railway station and I saw her right away, long leather coat, dark glasses and all in black. Very Matrix... I got through the gates and we met each other for the first time, but no words passed between us...
Well they couldn't, you see the world had faded away and all that existed was our first kiss, it was one of the most beautiful moments in my life, even beating the moment I woke up as a girl for the first time. I was to stay with her for two days, but this turned into a week and I had missed my train home again. So she popped me in her car and drove me home so I could go back to work...
I made it through half a day before I could stand it no more, four years of trans-phobic abuse by the kids at work had left me feeling hunted and miserable. Nothing happened to the kids who assaulted me and I felt like a target waiting to be attacked again. I phoned The One and said please come and get me and she did. She drove me to my Doctor and my Doctor told me I was too ill to be in work due to stress and fear. I was already taking huge amounts of antidepressants to cope with the abuse in the school. I cried a lot.
The one is called Carol and she is beautiful, red hair, eyes to drown in and a smile that can bring me to tears of joy. I love her with all of my heart, she rescued me and helped me get off of the drugs I was taking for depression, she got me out of a town where I was so unhappy and even bullied. She made me realise that I am a lovely woman and I do not have to be ashamed of my past anymore. She helped me start again and then she...
Proposed to me.
Carol, with all of my heart, I love you. How could I say no to the woman who taught me to be free?
Length:- none at all, it's an inny now!
(Sat 30th Aug 2008, 1:33, More)
Tis a sad and sordid story that ends happily with lesbian lust!
I split up with my Ex some time before, not because we hated each other, but because I think I wanted it more than him. He was lovely, but alas not The One. You see, my Mother read my Tarot and told me, you are going to meet a guy, but he will not stay and then you will meet the one.
I turned to Gaydar Girls, a lovely sight of a site where lots of beautiful elegant ladies all ignored me or told me that they just wanted to be friends.
Then I had a message from out of the blue. "Sat here sulking, scanning profiles, thought you looked like the sort of person I would get on with so thought I would say hi."
Hmm I think, sulking, sounds like my kind of girl so I replied and said that I was still a bit heart sore being freshly single by a couple of months. Then ping, a new message arrives. "Being just out of a relationship then we are both in the same situation, maybe we could 'not settle down' together sometime?"
We ended up swapping messages for ages and in the end even Gaydar Girls got fed up with us and we turned to e-mail and then phone calls. I missed her first call, I was doing something private, being recently post op TS (Oh the shock, I am admitting that I am Transsexual and a lesbian all in one post! Trans and proud me...)I needed to catch up with my physio. She left me a profane and ear splitting message on my answer phone that had me in fits of giggles.
I phoned her back and we talked non stop for an hour, exhausted we wished each other good night.
Then I was attacked in work by a group of school kids in a trans-phobic attack. I mention this because it is important. I left the area rapidly for the house of a good friend, who lived an hour and a half away from who shall for now call the one. The time away was just what I needed, but my heart ached to be so close to the one and yet so far away, also my friend, although a wonderful artist was experimenting with house dust and spider webs and I have a dust allergy.
The one met me at the railway station and I saw her right away, long leather coat, dark glasses and all in black. Very Matrix... I got through the gates and we met each other for the first time, but no words passed between us...
Well they couldn't, you see the world had faded away and all that existed was our first kiss, it was one of the most beautiful moments in my life, even beating the moment I woke up as a girl for the first time. I was to stay with her for two days, but this turned into a week and I had missed my train home again. So she popped me in her car and drove me home so I could go back to work...
I made it through half a day before I could stand it no more, four years of trans-phobic abuse by the kids at work had left me feeling hunted and miserable. Nothing happened to the kids who assaulted me and I felt like a target waiting to be attacked again. I phoned The One and said please come and get me and she did. She drove me to my Doctor and my Doctor told me I was too ill to be in work due to stress and fear. I was already taking huge amounts of antidepressants to cope with the abuse in the school. I cried a lot.
The one is called Carol and she is beautiful, red hair, eyes to drown in and a smile that can bring me to tears of joy. I love her with all of my heart, she rescued me and helped me get off of the drugs I was taking for depression, she got me out of a town where I was so unhappy and even bullied. She made me realise that I am a lovely woman and I do not have to be ashamed of my past anymore. She helped me start again and then she...
Proposed to me.
Carol, with all of my heart, I love you. How could I say no to the woman who taught me to be free?
Length:- none at all, it's an inny now!
(Sat 30th Aug 2008, 1:33, More)
» Helicopter Parents
More B3ta therapy
My Mother was a protective parent and to her I was fragile child who suffered with asthma, food allergies and migraine. You see, I suffered with terrible asthma and migraine for a lot of my childhood and then one day it just got better, I came off the asthma meds and hardly had a migraine. The miraculous cure was very simple. My Mother, who forbade me leaving our house because I was so ill, gave up smoking. She would smoke two packets of Embassy Number one a day and the house was like breathing in a bonfire.
To this day I react badly to smoking and can't stand to be in a smoky room because of the migraine I will suffer.
I grew up in Germany, Dad was in the army and I was an army brat. Back in the very early 80's a little girl was taken away and no doubt brutally buggered by a German Paedophile and she was never seen again. My Mother forbade me to play outside with my school friends because of the danger of paedo's. I finally managed to escape from my mother's grasp age twenty three when I fucked off to uni.
The whole Uni thing was a nightmare at first. As the day of my leaving drew near, my Mother started to say things to discourage me from going. At first it was simple things such as "are you sure you want to go that far away?". Too fucking right I did, my Mother insisted on running my life, taking what money I had and using me as a personal servant.
Two days before I went to Uni, my Mother told me that if I loved her then I would not go to Uni. She told me that if I went, she would be forced to kill herself and it would be my fault that my sister and brother would be forced to live with out a Mother. I wish I could tell you I was fine and strong, but in truth I cried on my sister and did not know what to do.
My Dad finally stood up to my Mother for me, the first and only time he ever did so and he drove me to uni himself. My Mother became an agonised mental case who screamed and cried for the last two days of my being at home.
Being at Uni was a revelation, I suddenly grew up and became the adult I was supposed to be and discovered the dangerous sports that I still love to this day.
I became a rock climber, my favourite climbing being solo climbing where I would climb my chosen route on my own with out a safety rope. I also became a mountain biker and as soon as I could, I made a break for the hills and rode like a fucking loony, putting myself in Hospital on two occasions that I remember and possibly one that I don't!
My Mother wrote to me every day, because the phone at Uni was always in use by Students from abroad phoning friends and family. This was before mobiles became popular. My mothers letter were always depressing and would inform me of the terrible things I was doing to my brother and sister while I was away from them. My mother would tell me that unless I returned home that day, she was going to kill herself and it was all my fault.
In the end the stress got too much for me and given that I was already coping with a darker and more personal problem of my own, the shit from my Mother pushed me over the edge and I tried to cut my wrists. My sister stepped in and told my Mother to back the fuck off.
Years later I was sat chatting with my sister and talk turned to our mental mother. My sister asked me why I had always been our Mothers favourite? I was really shocked, but as my sister saw it in her young eyes, our mother spent the whole time crying and telling people how much she missed her oldest child while the other two existed on badly cooked food and and no parental support.
My Mother's mental illness still causes problems when she tries to drive a wedge between my sister and I. Luckily, Sis and me are very close, she is more like a best friend than a sister and she has had almost as much therapy as me to recover from what our Mother did to us. It may sound like very little in this short story, but when every day your mother tells you (very graphically!) that should you step outside the front door you will be raped, murdered and god alone knows what else, it really does fuck you up.
Thanks Mum for the three years of therapy that you gave to us both, good job I liked my psychiatrist really.
Ahhh, I feel better now. The rage is fading and I just wish I could put into words just how much damage an over protective parent can do. My biggest fear is that I will turn into my Mother, my partner is under instruction that should I ever display any of my Mothers traits, I am to be shot immediately!
(Sun 13th Sep 2009, 20:50, More)
More B3ta therapy
My Mother was a protective parent and to her I was fragile child who suffered with asthma, food allergies and migraine. You see, I suffered with terrible asthma and migraine for a lot of my childhood and then one day it just got better, I came off the asthma meds and hardly had a migraine. The miraculous cure was very simple. My Mother, who forbade me leaving our house because I was so ill, gave up smoking. She would smoke two packets of Embassy Number one a day and the house was like breathing in a bonfire.
To this day I react badly to smoking and can't stand to be in a smoky room because of the migraine I will suffer.
I grew up in Germany, Dad was in the army and I was an army brat. Back in the very early 80's a little girl was taken away and no doubt brutally buggered by a German Paedophile and she was never seen again. My Mother forbade me to play outside with my school friends because of the danger of paedo's. I finally managed to escape from my mother's grasp age twenty three when I fucked off to uni.
The whole Uni thing was a nightmare at first. As the day of my leaving drew near, my Mother started to say things to discourage me from going. At first it was simple things such as "are you sure you want to go that far away?". Too fucking right I did, my Mother insisted on running my life, taking what money I had and using me as a personal servant.
Two days before I went to Uni, my Mother told me that if I loved her then I would not go to Uni. She told me that if I went, she would be forced to kill herself and it would be my fault that my sister and brother would be forced to live with out a Mother. I wish I could tell you I was fine and strong, but in truth I cried on my sister and did not know what to do.
My Dad finally stood up to my Mother for me, the first and only time he ever did so and he drove me to uni himself. My Mother became an agonised mental case who screamed and cried for the last two days of my being at home.
Being at Uni was a revelation, I suddenly grew up and became the adult I was supposed to be and discovered the dangerous sports that I still love to this day.
I became a rock climber, my favourite climbing being solo climbing where I would climb my chosen route on my own with out a safety rope. I also became a mountain biker and as soon as I could, I made a break for the hills and rode like a fucking loony, putting myself in Hospital on two occasions that I remember and possibly one that I don't!
My Mother wrote to me every day, because the phone at Uni was always in use by Students from abroad phoning friends and family. This was before mobiles became popular. My mothers letter were always depressing and would inform me of the terrible things I was doing to my brother and sister while I was away from them. My mother would tell me that unless I returned home that day, she was going to kill herself and it was all my fault.
In the end the stress got too much for me and given that I was already coping with a darker and more personal problem of my own, the shit from my Mother pushed me over the edge and I tried to cut my wrists. My sister stepped in and told my Mother to back the fuck off.
Years later I was sat chatting with my sister and talk turned to our mental mother. My sister asked me why I had always been our Mothers favourite? I was really shocked, but as my sister saw it in her young eyes, our mother spent the whole time crying and telling people how much she missed her oldest child while the other two existed on badly cooked food and and no parental support.
My Mother's mental illness still causes problems when she tries to drive a wedge between my sister and I. Luckily, Sis and me are very close, she is more like a best friend than a sister and she has had almost as much therapy as me to recover from what our Mother did to us. It may sound like very little in this short story, but when every day your mother tells you (very graphically!) that should you step outside the front door you will be raped, murdered and god alone knows what else, it really does fuck you up.
Thanks Mum for the three years of therapy that you gave to us both, good job I liked my psychiatrist really.
Ahhh, I feel better now. The rage is fading and I just wish I could put into words just how much damage an over protective parent can do. My biggest fear is that I will turn into my Mother, my partner is under instruction that should I ever display any of my Mothers traits, I am to be shot immediately!
(Sun 13th Sep 2009, 20:50, More)
» Terrible food
Oh Mum! really...
My Mum has just told me the worst thing ever...
She knew a guy known as Beastie who for a dare, had a dump on a slice of bread, turned it into a sandwich and ate it...
She also said that the same guy had a dump in an old boot, added beer and drank it.
As a child she told the boy next door to drink bleach.
My Mum is a fucking minger and she just said that the bleach also had worms in it too. My Mum the poisoner. She also dared the same boy to put glue down his cock. He was rushed to hospital apparently...
She is still laughing about this forty five years after the event.
No wonder I grew up weird...
(Sat 19th May 2007, 23:38, More)
Oh Mum! really...
My Mum has just told me the worst thing ever...
She knew a guy known as Beastie who for a dare, had a dump on a slice of bread, turned it into a sandwich and ate it...
She also said that the same guy had a dump in an old boot, added beer and drank it.
As a child she told the boy next door to drink bleach.
My Mum is a fucking minger and she just said that the bleach also had worms in it too. My Mum the poisoner. She also dared the same boy to put glue down his cock. He was rushed to hospital apparently...
She is still laughing about this forty five years after the event.
No wonder I grew up weird...
(Sat 19th May 2007, 23:38, More)
» We have to talk
We need to talk
My old house mate was too wet to tell me that he wanted me to move out.
I got the "We need to talk" as a text message as he drove to the other side of the country for a week of work.
Laughing I sent back "That sounds serious! ;-) You want me to move out? LOL"
He never answered, I found a new place.
He came home a week later and we had a talk, I told him I was moving out.
The bastard gave me notice and said "I just can't cope with you, you are so... different. We can still be friends though.
He was on the phone two days later as I was moving into my new place. "My girlfriend left me..."
Was it wrong to laugh?
(Fri 20th Apr 2007, 17:47, More)
We need to talk
My old house mate was too wet to tell me that he wanted me to move out.
I got the "We need to talk" as a text message as he drove to the other side of the country for a week of work.
Laughing I sent back "That sounds serious! ;-) You want me to move out? LOL"
He never answered, I found a new place.
He came home a week later and we had a talk, I told him I was moving out.
The bastard gave me notice and said "I just can't cope with you, you are so... different. We can still be friends though.
He was on the phone two days later as I was moving into my new place. "My girlfriend left me..."
Was it wrong to laugh?
(Fri 20th Apr 2007, 17:47, More)