Kendra Reviews Kendra’s House

Huh?

The thing is, I love my house. It’s a nice little rambler in the heart of my favorite city in the world and its big enough to be able to rent our downstairs apartment and the neighbors are nice and very welcoming to their newly discovered transgender girl next door.

Still, the house does not like me.

Or at least doesn’t like my lifestyle. Okay so we have two full bathrooms, but one of them is enclosed in the downstairs apartment and when you think about that for a second, two women sharing one bathroom and one of those women are a trans girl in puberty. Ugh.

Yea, yea, I can live with it, my wife, not so much.

Now take a moment to envision the small bedrooms- well one small bedroom, one office and then a larger bedroom set aside for Kimberly and any guest she might want to entertain. On the surface it sounds just right but if you dig just a little deeper you will discover it can add a lot of stress to your household.

My bedroom; the small one at the end of the hall; the one with the twin bed that is squeezed in between four walls and a very large, over-sized wardrobe…yea, that’s the one…Joy, joy, a transgender girl, less than a year on HRT with a shopping addiction forced to squash all of her clothes inside of one small closet and one huge wardrobe.

And still, that’s not what causes me the most grief. Now take for a moment, the possibility of an overnight guest sharing a twin bed in that crazy small room. Okay, it can be done but you would be better advised to take some yoga classes prior to inviting someone into your bed.

So why, when I love my house so much, love my city, why would any of this matter to a casual blog reader? It wouldn't…look guys and girls, I don’t do any of this for profit. I do not spend my very limited spare time writing this for attention or even readers.

I do this for the transgender girl that feels alone, feels like she has a mountain much too large to climb alone. I do this for the suicide rate in our little corner of the community.

Not always the big things, mind you, but the tiny things, the crazy things and yes even the huge, seemingly insurmountable things. From beginning to end this is me.

So when I get an unsigned email from some odd account stating, you are no fucking transgender woman or fuck you I hope you die, I chuckle. I am not here for those people I am simply here to give you a laugh and help someone that might be able to be helped.

I have too many concerns of my own to care, so save those types of emails.

Hell, last night I got lambasted by Kimberly for leaving a little baby powder on the bathroom floor. I dropped my brand new Hard Candy bronzer in the toilet and I ran out of my favorite mat pink lipstick, save your energy, put it to better use.

In other words, I can fix the lipstick and bronzer situation, I can delete your hateful, spiteful, ignorant emails but until I fix my shopping addiction I cannot fix my house and more importantly I cannot fix my mother.

What I can do is keep writing and keep hoping one day what I write will reach someone that identifies with me, someone that was going to die one way or another… Yea, Ken was on his last day of life, he was either going to die of a heart attack, put a bullet in his head or transition.

My blog is for that girl (or guy) It can be done. You can be happy…please, please believe me.

That is of course as long as you don’t end up with a shopping addiction and have to share your only bathroom with another girl…that can’t be done…

Until I can be.

#Kimberly #Review #Relationships