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Although I am not as active as I once was on here, I'm still doing these entries to reflect on the year that was and what the next year has in store.

So, with that said, let's begin.

For our newest followers and for those who have been here for many, many years, here is a quick recap on the years I've written about so far:

2015 – Year filled with crap, nearly died due to weight issues, bad family dieting habits and strict, violent and destructive narcissistic parenting.

2016 – The year I made my escape and ran far, far away from a broken and dysfunctional life and had to hit the reset button.

2017 – A mixed bag, but finally made my house a home, but my mental health and well-being collapsed.

2018 - Another mixed bag, but after some repair work at a psychologist, I'm still not 100% in terms of mental health capacity.

2019- Cece is awoken and the journey to transition is on!

2020 - We don't talk about that year. EVER. I don't care if that year gave Cece a huge shot in the arm in the form of confidence, we don't talk about 2020. Just like we don't talk about Bruno.

2021 - A mixed bag, but mainly positive with huge gains and achievements.

So.....

What about 2022?

Ah yes, 2022.

It was another mixed bag year.

The first six months went along smoothly.

The remaining six months were a nightmare and so, much more.

Why was it a nightmare you may ask?

Well in summary, deadbeat neighbours got evicted, said deadbeat neighbours want me dead for getting them evicted, had to resort to financial products to protect my property from said deadbeats wanting revenge and now said deadbeats are more bitter than ever.

So, in a break from tradition, let's talk about the current state of the home.

Independent Living

I finally broke the previous tenant's record and clocked up my sixth year in my current accommodation.

But the last few months have been a challenging time.

Back in June, during international pride month, the unthinkable happened.

On a cold, freezing Saturday morning on the first week of June, Sheriff officers along with police served an eviction notice to my deadbeat, coked out, drugged out neighbours.

Five years of absolute, nightmarish neighbourhood hell had finally come to a dramatic end.

While the moving out and eviction process went smoothly and without incident during the day, things turned very nasty when nightfall came around.

The root cause of the nightmarish neighbourhood hell wasn't there when the notice was served, but decided to come back later that night and decided to scream down the house, wanting to know who got them evicted and wanting revenge for the person who dobbed them in.

Luckily, common sense prevailed and the troublesome neighbour was escorted off the complex in a paddy wagon, never to be seen or heard from again.

After the final remnants of their belongings were loaded onto a truck and the locks were changed, the war was over.

A few months go by and after the repair and decontamination works were carried out, the property was put back on the market and some very pleasant neighbours finally moved in.

While living conditions are a whole lot better nowadays, I'm still suffering from the scars of the neighbourhood war.

I spent nearly five years, pleading my case to the managing agent of the property, the owner of the real estate agency, the strata company that manages my complex and even their parent company and got nothing but ignorance and negligence in return.

I was stalked, harassed and intimidated from dusk to dawn.

I had to go deep into debt to protect my property.

I had no choice but to.

It was go into cripping debt to protect myself and my belongings or have the neighbours mates break into the house and cause a lot more damage and even if they had the chance, set the place on fire and leave me with nothing.

Bartholomew J. Simpson once said:

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, contrary to what you've just seen, war is neither glamorous nor fun. There are no winners, only losers. There are no good wars."

Those words still ring true, even in modern times.

Many of you, after reading this may be asking this one question:

"Why didn't you leave and give up? Surely you could have gotten another place elsewhere?"

I could have left, but I didn't.

I could have given my notice to leave.

I could have saved myself from fighting a battle.

I could have moved back to that toxic pressure cooker of a family home.

But I didn't.

Because of all those options were not viable.

I couldn't leave as I was defending the complex and protecting my other neighbours from their antics.

I couldn't find another rental property. I already had enough trouble getting the one I'm currently in. Plus, the pandemic caused a rental crisis in my area due to an influx of people from Sydney and Canberra moving to the region.

Moving back to that toxic pressure cooker of a family home would have been a death sentence. In short, moving back there would have killed me. I would have not survived. End of story.

So, against my better judgement, I stood my ground and fought back.

Not the smartest move in the book, yes, but it was absolutely, positively necessary to fight back.

The end result may have been that the entire complex is now peaceful and quiet once again, but deep down, the war has caused many scars and debt that will take years, if not, decades to repay and heal from.

Anyway, rant over for this section, let's move onto the positive stuff.

Cece

Mardi Gras 2022

Last year's parade and festival viewing parties at home were tainted by the, you guessed it, drugged up, coked out of their mind, batshit insane neighbours trying to force entry into the house.

Little did I know at the time, that was due to them wanting revenge for their eviction notice.

Despite that little saga or two, the 44th edition of the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras was an amazing night for all.

My outfit for the year continued with the sparkly theme from the year prior, but this time consisting of black sequins:

Although the dress cost me a pretty penny or two, it was so totally worth it in the end.

This time round, there was plenty of time to spare for delivery of the dress along with the other items.

There were a few extras included as well for the big night:

Once the parade got going, the champagne flowed freely (in moderation)

...and by the time the night ended:

It was a great night.

Considering it was my fourth Mardi Gras since I moved back, I felt a lot of confident and just soaked in the atmosphere from start to finish.

During the parade telecast, ideas of what to do for next year started to flow through.

Speaking of that, as mentioned last year in my Instagram post on attending the parade in person:

"I'm already starting to make plans to attend the 2022 edition, whether at #oxfordstreet or at a venue. But until then, I'll continue to grow out the hair, tweak and improve on a few things and rebuild my confidence to venture back out in the community as my true self.

....and hopefully, I'll be there.

Representing the (region censored) on the biggest stage of them all."

Which leads me onto this special section.

WorldPride 2023

In 2023, Sydney will play host to the VIII (8th) WorldPride of the Modern Era.

WorldPride is a big event for those in the LGBTIQA+ community, which is even bigger than the Mardi Gras festival and parade itself!

Think of it as the Olympic and Paralympic Games, but a lot more colourful and vibrant.

Host cities (and countries) are selected every two years by the governing body, InterPride.

While most of the events will be held around Sydney and its surrounding suburbs and areas, WorldPride for my region will be an opportunity to welcome the world to our neck of the woods.

In the last two years with the influx of people from Sydney and Canberra coming to my neck of the woods, the divide between the open and welcoming part of my town and the cold, old guard conservative areas have pretty much been broken and torn down.

(For a full explanation of what this means, you can read up on this from my journal entry from 2019:)

I mentioned in previous editions of these posts that my main goal is to attend the parade in person, but due to the pandemic, those dreams were put on the backburner.

However, in the last few months, I have been given a chance to achieve that dream.

I can't spill too much tea on the details as I've signed a non-disclosure agreement and can't talk about it until February, but let's say, in simple terms that a Southern Highlander (and Goulburn Mulwaree) might (and I say might, plans can change ya know!) be finally able to achieve that dream once and for all.

Could I be watching the parade as part of a delegation?

Could I be doing something that involves promoting the parade on TV?

Or, could I be doing something that is so, so much more then I could imagine and then some?

All will be ruvealed soon enough.

Hair Growth

It must have been an eternity and a lifetime ago when I decided to grow out my hair and ditch the wig.

Despite repeated requests for me to shave it off and comply with binary rules (no chance in hell I'm doing that!), I can safely say that the hair growth journey is still going well and stronger than ever.

I can't yet still put the hair in a Sci-Twi inspired bun, but I can now put it into a mini ball and with a hair clip, pin it back to follow the natural oils to continue their good work.

The hair itself is now well past shoulder length and is fuller and vibrant than ever.

I'm still having fears of getting the hair styled and maintained, thanks in no part due to one side of my family (will discuss later on that) being toxic as heck and still hell bent as ever trying to ruin my dream, however, I am finding an open, welcoming and inclusive hairdresser to take care of my long, flowing crown.

Transition Update

Despite the dramas of the last six months, my transition is going along well and going off without a hitch.

Last year, we were at the stage where Cece was about to go full time.

Although that goal hasn't been achieved as of yet, we are very, very close to achieving it.

On the social front, Cece has now been incorporated into everyday life.

Most of (not including the last, remaining holdouts wanting to die on the hill they stand on) the region has been supporting about Cece as a whole.

Whether it's out shopping, exercising or having a cuppa, I've had people stop and compliment me on my looks and style and even had some conversations about my journey as a whole.

To be honest though, I feel like I've now shed the shy, quiet introvert tag and now have become an extrovert.

Imagine that?

From someone who was scared to venture out six years ago as my true self and hid Cece away to now essentially becoming a role model and an unofficial ambassador for the regions LGBTIQA+ community as a whole.

I am also sharing my journey on other social media platforms such as Instagram and TikTok and have got a bit of a following, especially among other people who are in a similar situation.

The number of stories and messages I receive from people, including those undergoing the same process as myself is mind-blowing in its own right.

I always thought I was alone in the world.

I always thought I was a lone wolf.

A small fish in a big pond.

But I was wrong.

There are now hundreds of people who identify as LGBTIQA+ in my region.

Many of them aren't fully out yet, but for those who are, they are making a huge impact on the area.

We now have group functions, including a monthly meetup for drinks and dining.

We now have a proper support network for families with children who are undergoing their transition journeys.

We now have a medical network for those seeking hormone replacement therapies.

All of this wasn't even possible six years ago.

The region has shed its old guard, conservative image and has now adopted a more open, welcoming, inclusive and progressive one.

I may have had something to do with this in some capacity (I can't take all the credit ya know!), but to finally be my true self and be amongst the community has to be one of the biggest achievements that I have ever accomplished.

Speaking of medical transition, I will officially begin the process of HRT from March 2023.

(Need to get through Mardi Gras and WorldPride first!)

On the legal front, the official name change to Cecilia will be taking place after I've started HRT. The timeframe for that will be around middle to late 2023.

Speaking of name changes....

Family

As you are well aware, my relationship with my mother hasn't been the best in recent years.

Although she did come around and accept me into their world last Xmas, things, have unfortunately changed.

Back in April of this year, there was a big fight/argument at my parents place and I was caught in the crossfire when one of my siblings decided to unload her frustrations onto me.

Since then and after some time to think and talk things through, it was determined that, the family curse had spread like wildfire and has affected one of those siblings.

For those who don't know or are new, one half of my family has an intergenerational curse related to parenting styles, which in turn has caused my mental health to go down the drain and affect my everyday life.

From budgeting to decision making, every, single, thing, I, do is often critiqued, overanalysed and criticised to no end.

Every action I do often ends in me having bouts of self-doubt and even meltdowns galore.

Fuse boxes were being blown out and I couldn't handle my emotions.

The side of the family that is cursed and causing all the grief, just happens to be on my mother's side.

It's no secret that my mother and myself aren't on the same page.

Ever since I came out in 2014, there have been lots of clashes and conflicts regarding my transition.

My dad's side of the family is OK with my transition and are fully behind my journey 100%.

My mother's side, however, hasn't warmed up to the idea, despite patching things up and burying hatchets.

I've come to the realization, after many months and years of thinking and fighting my demons, that my mother's side isn't willing to be open to change or to move on from those parenting methods that have been passed down from generation to generation.

I've tried integrating Cece into their world, but although there was some success, the project has been a major failure.

Unfortunately, I'm having to now make a very tough choice.

When I begin HRT, my emotions are going to be swinging like a yo-yo, make no mistake about it.

Estrogen is a powerful beast.

Now, combine me, taking estrogen, living my truth and saddling along with all of family issues on that mother's side and it's a recipe for that toxic, pressure cooker to explode in a big way.

I've had to cut my mother out once before and although things were patched up, it seems I might have to do it again.

This time however, it's going to be cutting out an entire part of my family.

It's not going to be an easy decision to make, but it's going to be needed to ensure I can live my life as my true self.

Anyway, this is getting long in the tooth, so here is the traditional picture album of the sixth year of Cece's journey:

Cecilia's Transgender Journey Year 6 - 2022

Challenges Ahead

Unlike previous years, 2023 isn't going to be a very challenging year.

Yet.

SlowMo was thrown out of office earlier this year (finally) and now Albo is in charge.

While the threat towards the LGBTIQA+ community, or the "turfs" running amok or even the cuts to my National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) plan didn't come to fruition (thank goodness for two year plans), there will be some challenges to overcome in the upcoming year.

First off, I'm now in the process of cleaning up and repairing several aspects of my life.

A five-year neighbourhood war involving drugs can take a lot out of you, especially on the financial front.

My main focus is to clean up my current pile of debt that was accumulated during the war, put in place repayment plans and agreements and to also rebuild my credit and savings herstory.

I'll have to go through one challenge involving my wages from work being up for review in the early part of January 2023, but I already know what the outcome of that will be.

In Conclusion

2022 will go down in herstory as a mixed bag.

Great for the six months, not so great for the last six.

Reflecting back to last year's post when I said this:

"I'm not sure about 2022 being a good year as mentioned with two elections and an out of control PM hell bent wanting me erased out of the picture, but at least I can go into it with my head held high and my tiara shining bright."

I was kinda right about 2022 being a good year, but SlowMo didn't get their wish of wanting me erased and rubbed out.

So, what will my prediction for 2023 be?

Well, if the first six months of 2022 are anything to go by, it's going to start out as a carryover from the year previous.

So, what about the last six months of 2023?

Well once I start on the estrogen, I can finally relax and beginning to shed this broken-down, worn-out skin that I've been wearing for the last 37 years.

Thank you for your support over this past year and I look forward to sharing with you the seventh year of my transgender transition journey. Or as I would call it, Miss Cece goes off to high school!

....and as always:

Fascism, racism and bigotry has no place in modern society and so does homophobia and transphobia too.

So let’s continue to stop them DEAD in its tracks.

To recap my journey so far for our new followers and those just joining us before the year is out....

2015 – Year filled with crap, nearly died due to weight issues, bad family dieting habits and strict, violent and destructive narcissistic parenting.

2016 – The year I made my escape and ran far, far away from a broken and dysfunctional life and had to hit the reset button.

2017 – A mixed bag, but finally made my house a home, but my mental health and well being collapsed.

2018 - Another mixed bag, but after some repair work at a psychologist, I'm still not 100% in terms of mental health capacity.

2019- Cece is awoken and the journey to transition is on!

2020 - We don't talk about that year. EVER.

So......

What about 2021?

Do we talk about it?

Oh.....hell yes!

Although the global pandemic still rages on and causing major disruption and in some cases, financial hardship and ruin, I've managed to scrape through 2021 without a scratch.

Well....OK, not with a scratch, but a few bumps in the road. (or two)

2021 for Cece has been one of major change, growth and development.

The hair is longer, the face more prettier and the outfits are more glamourous than ever.

So with that said, let's get into the year that was starting off with the old tried and true....

Cece

Mardi Gras 2021

So despite being chased down the street, having a sizable bounty placed on your head and the entire town going to the dogs with banks and shops closing left, right and centre due to the pandemic, the 2021 edition of the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras is always a highlight of my year.

...and why not?

A sparkly dress complete with a tiara and a glass of sparkling wine made for a great night. (Although the drugged up, coked out of their mind, batshit insane neighbours tried to get into the house)

Preparations for the parade night went off without a hitch, although the dress nearly didn't get delivered to my PO Box in time but it arrived with only a week or so to spare.

I'm already starting to prepare for the 2022 parade, which again will be held at the Sydney Cricket Ground due to COVIDSafe restrictions being in place. (Thank you Omicron)

Speaking of that, I made a mention of attending the parade in person in my Mardi Gras post:

"I'm already starting to make plans to attend the 2022 edition, whether at #oxfordstreet or at a venue. But until then, I'll continue to grow out the hair, tweak and improve on a few things and rebuild my confidence to venture back out in the community as my true self.

....and hopefully, I'll be there."

Representing the (region censored) on the biggest stage of them all:

With the new Omicron variant, those plans have been pushed back for another year, so it will be an in house affair like previous years.

However, Sydney is playing host to WorldPride 2023 and fingers crossed, I'll be definitely attending that parade in person!

(That's if there is no further variants of this blasted virus!)

Hair Growth

I can safely say that despite a few attempts and requests for me to shave it off and comply with binary rules (no chance in hell I'm doing that!), that the hair growth journey is still going well.

Although it will be another couple of years before I can rock the Sci-Twi bun, the hair is now past shoulder length and halfway down my back after it's beauty routines have been done!

Who could have thought?!

I feel absolutely more confident, resilient and empowered when I'm out and about, especially when a gust of mind comes along and blows the hair like a photo shoot in a wind tunnel.

I don't intend to get it styled professionally just yet as I don't have the confidence to go into a beauty salon. You can thank being under a toxic and abusive household for that dream going up in smoke.

I personally don't have a problem with my hair being styled and made better, it's just I've got a lot of trust and confidence issues that I need to work through. Right now, if I even think about the idea of getting my hair styled, my mind goes into hyperdrive with "what if's" and "what will happen" and whether my head would end up being shaved.

That's the harsh reality I have to deal with being so screwed up from an overprotective parent.

Anyway.......

I've gone off course.

Let's continue on.

Transition Update

The transition journey has been going well.

We are now at the stage where Cece is about to go full time.

It's a far cry of being sheltered away and hidden from the world many moons ago, but I've now got the confidence to be my true self 24/7/365.

Socially, I've started to incorporate Cece into everyday life.

Medically, I'm in the process of beginning the HRT stuff in 2022/2023.

However, I will need to be away from the house and off work for a week for when the treatment starts due to the unpredictable nature of the estrogen, especially the first few doses. (So it's time to save up for a week or two in a hotel in town.....)

Legally, I'm now beginning the process of going through the name change to Cecilia, but I need to have a series of meetings with my family to go over some things including names, pronouns and even having to come up with a reciprocal agreement for my mother and father due to their old age.

Speaking on the family side of things, there was one highlight that I forgot to mention.

I finally managed to patch things up with my mother in October this year:

The last remaining obstacle in my journey finally decided to accept Cece into her life after a long, hard and emotionally draining battle that ended the night before Halloween when I logged back into my old Facebook account and decided to test the waters and see if she would bite.

It turned out, it did.

The next day, I was up at my folks place to do a double celebration of my Dad's birthday and Cece's acceptance into the family.

Seven years.

That's how long it took.

Seven long, hard and painful years.

I never wanted to speak about this, whether on here or outside but my mother and I were always at loggerheads with each other over the transition journey, even going as far as trying to derail my journey at every avenue.

After I moved out, I had to cut her out of my life for almost a year to set an example that if she continued to go down the destructive and damaging pathway that she was on, she wouldn't have an eldest daughter or even an extended family in the future.

I didn't want to make that decision, but I had to do it for my own safety, health and wellbeing.

Not with sounding like a person who is ungrateful, I'm glad I took the scissors and cut the very person who brought me into this world out of my life because it turned out to be the best decision I ever made.

Not only did my mother finally accept me for who I truly am (and gain an eldest daughter in the process), but now she is my strongest ally in my corner.

I know that many people in my situation who are transitioning don't have the luxury of having loving and accepting parents in their life.

I feel their pain knowing the everyday struggles that they have to go through.

With the hard part over with, here are some pics of a year to remember with Cece:

Cece's 2021 in Review

Challenges Ahead

2022 will be a year that will be a challenge.

Make no mistake about that.

The first obstacle will be SlowMo and their mates trying to erase the LGBTIQA community and pass very dangerous discrimination bills based on their bible bashing beliefs with the potential to cause havoc and chaos for millions of people.

The second obstacle is also SlowMo and stealthy cuts to the National Disability Insurance Scheme. Although I am confident enough just to let the plan roll over for another year, they have been pushing for a two year plan for quite some time and I've decided to lock it in for security and safety's sake.

However, some participants have reported major cuts to their budgets after their plan review.

To be quite honest, I am scared as all heck if this were to happen to me.

I am scared if they cut my funding in one category, that would cause a major collapse in my journey.

I would be in deep trouble if they tried that stunt.

The third obstacle is..... you guessed it, SlowMo.

Next year is an election here in Australia (and local elections for my council region) and I hate to say this but if SlowMo gets reelected, that would be the beginning of the end.

I always try and keep a positive outlook on life, but it's not that easy when you have a tyrant for a PM and their bible bashing mates wanting nothing more than to see you dead just to save a few dollars.

I've spoken about this before in previous editions, but this government have been lifting and copying policies from the UK, including the cuts to disability, aged care and welfare resulting in people dying by the thousands.

If SlowMo were to be reelected, I would be in a position where my life would crumble apart.

It happened in 2019 when we thought this nightmare would end, but it turns out it got worse.

I don't want to even imagine what will happen if they get reelected.

...and as such, I'll move on to:

In Conclusion

If 2020 was a year to forget, then 2021 can be a year to remember.

Sure the pandemic caused some things to be screwed up and changed around including a lockdown or two, but 2021 actually turned out to be a good year for once.

I'm not sure about 2022 being a good year as mentioned with two elections and an out of control PM hell bent wanting me erased out of the picture, but at least I can go into it with my head held high and my tiara shining bright.

Thank you for your support over this past year and I look forward to sharing with you the sixth year of my transgender transition journey.

....and as always:

Fascism, racism and bigotry has no place in modern society and so does homophobia and transphobia too.

So let’s continue to stop them DEAD in its tracks.

"It's simple. I had a rough childhood. My mum wasn't supporting to me in life. I just want to get this day over with and move on. It hurts me even thinking about it."

I still got those feelings, although not as bad as I used to....

“Why, oh why didn’t I get out of that toxic and destructive mess?”

...and I am still working on finding out those answers and a whole lot more, five years later.

The bills from the shrink continue to go up and up......

(Sighs).....

Oh woe is me, it's that time of the year once again where I go on a never ending soul seeking mission on why the person that brought me into the world decided to try and take me out of it.

As we know from the last three or so journal entries, I don't handle Mother's Day all that well.

If St. Valentine can cause enough chaos and havoc and result in me having a nervous breakdown on the day of love and break down in tears on the bathroom floor, then Mother's Day is enough to make my blood boil and explode in a fit of rage, bogan swearing and all for the entire neighbourhood to hear and see.

Rather than reach out to my mother or join in on the many lunch functions I was forced to attend under the threat of punitive punishment and dire consequences for non compliance, I instead stay home, lay down on the lounge and scream my head off into a pillow and wonder why most of my life ended with me being screwed up and got even more challenging and difficult when I decided to "come out" seven years ago as my true self.

But I am still, despite saying to a lot of people about my mother's antics, being told to show respect to her regardless of what happened.

Well here is a news flash, dearie.

I don't respect my mother the way people want me to.

The relationship with my mother is still rocky at best and the chances of Cece entering into their lives are pretty much slim, next to nil.

You can throw all the guilt tripping, bombarding messages of "don't forget" and "don't let her be a afterthought" for all you like, but it will never change the way I think of this day as a whole.

Mother's Day died when my mother decided to make my life a living hell.

Nothing can ever change that.

Although in the last few years, despite the frayed relationship, my mother had to be dragged kicking and screaming into a new way of parenting and handing change.

My mother knows what she did to me was wrong and was in denial for many years, especially after I came out.

It wasn't until the last of my younger siblings fled the nest and the introduction of two new grandkids, which resulted in having to accept the responsibility of being a grandmother that she got the biggest wake up call to change her ways of parenting or risk never being able to see most of her family again.

Which leads me to a problem that has recently been identified on ironically enough, Mother's Day.

I am starting to become my own mother.

No joke.

After years of being under a toxic household and a dealing with a mother who also had it rough, I, too, have been experiencing thoughts, feelings and even mannerisms from my mothers side creeping through without me noticing it.

My inner derro/bogan is starting to show through the "miss goody two shoes, never been in trouble with the authorities" persona that has been drilled into me by the education system with their ridged, no room for change or freedom to be yourself policies.

Remember when my mum would snap at me in a furious rage when I dropped a cup?

Well.....the same thing is happening with me.

*ticks off explosive anger*

Remember when my mum demanded me to do things under the threat of punitive punishment and dire consequences?

Well....the same thing is starting to show with me.

*ticks off punishment methods is used*

Or what about not being able to keep my mental health in check, resulting in almost certain termination or suspension from my employment due to my mother's ways that I've spent so hard trying not to become?

This has now caused it's own set of problems, mainly in my professional career and life.

I've tried countless times, even with the best of professional help to get rid off and eliminate my mother's upbringing, but alas, even though I got rid of the worst of it, they always find a way to keep coming back in one form or another.

So yeah, I'm slowly becoming the person I didn't want to be.

Simple as.

(Sighs).......

"So much for my planned Mardi Gras parade party this Saturday night.

It’s not much fun to prepare for the biggest night of the year when you’ve got idiots wanting you dead and making your life a living hell.

Should’ve packed up and got out when I had the chance......

....totally regretting my financial choices by staying and fighting."

As you can see, things have gone to hell where I am.

So it made preparations for the 43rd edition of the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras a challenge in it's self.

I'm no stranger when it comes to challenging situations and having to work my around them.

This is my third Mardi Gras in three years and with each one, came it's own set of obstacles to overcome.

2019 was my first one, spurred on by a art installation which lit the flame.

2020 was my second, although I was told to "drop dead" by one of my former workmates days out from the event, I ended up putting the entire town and region's LGBT community on the map when I ended up on the SBS live broadcast of the parade. (and to stick it to the haters)

....and then, things went to shit.

The pandemic struck, the entire town went to hell and I had a sizeable target and bounty on my head due to an out of control, drugged up idiot neighbour and their mates.

That pretty much put me into hiding for around a year.

It's not fun being trapped in your house due to the pandemic (but needed) and then having to modify and change your routine and life thanks in no part to some idiots wanting you dead and being outed in the community.

So when the 2021 parade was moved from it's iconic location at Oxford Street to the hollowed turf of the Sydney Cricket Ground (SCG) due to pandemic restrictions, memories started flooding back.

The SCG is home of Tony "Plugger" Lockett kicking their 1300th AFL goal in 1999, breaking Gordon Coventry's long standing record of 1299 goals in VFL/AFL history.

Or what about in 1996 when Michael Bevan, on the last ball against the West Indies and with one wicket in hand, single handily pulled Australia out of a humiliating defeat and smashed a six down the ground to win the game?

Or what about 2005 when the Sydney Swans, against Geelong in the AFL semi final pulled off a miracle when Nick Davis kicked the winning goal from out of no where with seconds left on the clock?

If those three events didn't spur me to start preparation work for an historic chapter, I had to start making plans for my big night in.

In the weeks leading up to the parade, I had to get my outfit sorted for the big night.

Last year I went for a leather and lace look, so it wasn't obvious that I would go for glitz and glam this time round:

I found this outfit on Amazon by sudden chance of all places and after it was almost in the mail and got caught in a redirection loop, I tried it on after it was delivered and immediately I loved it!

Although bits and pieces of the gold sequins seem to find their way on the carpets and furniture, it was worth the wait to get this imported in for the big night!

With the outfit out of the road, the accessories came next with some new jewellery and even a makeshift tiara to complete the look.

On parade night, despite some nervous moments and the anxiety running through the roof due to the fear of the idiot neighbours trying everything in the book to crash the party, the whole night went off without a hitch!

I might had a extra glass of champagne on the night (which resulted in a major headache, hangover and a big sleep in the next morning), but seeing the parade in a different setting was a unique experience.

The SBS broadcast didn't do any well wishes messages from the community this year because of the pandemic, but the highlight of the night was the ending musical performance at the end of parade.

Although my tastes in music are a bit unique (think movie and TV soundtracks with a hint of my Dad's love of country and western), the ending musical numbers were uplifting and emotional and to have that cap off a magical night was amazing.

I have now had the pleasure of experiencing three Mardi Gras, although in the comfort of my own home.

Who knew, three years ago, I would be watching the parade and celebrating pride in my own backyard?

But, bigger things may be on the horizon.

My support worker is encouraging me to attend a parade in person, whether in 2022 or beyond.

Although I have a bit of "cold feet" and some hesitation in venturing out as Cece beyond the eyes of the home town and the region, they want me to build up my confidence and go to the parade in person.

I wrote this on one of my Instagram posts shortly after the parade finished expressing my thoughts (edited to protect my identity, don't need any more idiots causing hell):

....and that's another #sydneymardigras done and dusted and written in the history books.

Had a great evening (although the idiot neighbours tried to crash the party), but now as the say, the party is over.

But not the #transgender journey.

I'm already starting to make plans to attend the 2022 edition, whether at #oxfordstreet or at a venue.

But until then, I'll continue to grow out the hair, tweak and improve on a few things and rebuild my confidence to venture back out in the community as my true self.

....and hopefully, I'll be there.

Representing the (region censored) on the biggest stage of them all.

So the question is begging to be answered.

Am I ready to attend my first Mardi Gras in person?

Only time will tell.

So...to recap for our new followers and those just joining us before the year is out....

2015 – Year filled with crap, nearly died due to weight issues, bad family dieting habits and strict, violent and destructive narcissistic parenting.

2016 – The year I made my escape and ran far, far away from a broken and dysfunctional life and had to hit the reset button.

2017 – A mixed bag, but finally made my house a home, but my mental health and well being collapsed.

2018 - Another mixed bag, but after some repair work at a psychologist, I'm still not 100% in terms of mental health capacity.

2019- Cece is awoken and the journey to transition is on!

First off, let's get the obvious out the way.

2020 is a crap year.

Not just for me, but for everyone.

It started great, then the pandemic struck.

Things collapsed.

The violent neighbours got more violent and disruptive.

Their mates started a revenge mission to have me erased.

Was off work for two months and worrying whether I would see the year out with a roof over my head.

Wondered if I would be forced to return to that toxic life out in the middle of nowhere.

Governments, state and federal told us to stay home.

My family got caught up in the mess and fell on hard times.

You get the picture.

Now this would be end of the post, but there were a few good things that came out of it.

So, let's instead focus on what 2020 was for me.

(although it's going to be mostly negative stuff)

Cecilia (Cece)

Mardi Gras

2020 for Cece was a mixed bag.

There's no mistaking that.

Although the previous year was special, 2020 wasn't so kind for Cece.

There was one small glimmer of hope though.

Towards the end of February, the Mardi Gras parade took place and despite being told to "drop dead" by one of my workmates on the side of the road miles away from home, that didn't deter me from frocking up and dancing the night away.

The outfit that I choose turned a few heads:

..and during the parade broadcast, Cece was showcased to the world:

Then.......

....the pandemic struck around a few weeks later.

You'll be reading and seeing a lot of that word in this post, but the pandemic wasn't so nice to Cece.

Thanks in part to tough restrictions enforced by the state and federal governments ordering us to stay home, my rigorous exercise program had to take a back seat for a few months, resulting in a near and complete undoing of how I look and feel about myself and as a result, I started developing body image issues in addition to the hundred different things I'm dealing with such as anxiety, stress and PTSD.

Although it's not as bad in the sense of 2015 when I was told by my doctors to break away from my mother's dietary standards or face being lowered six feet under by the age of 30, I kinda fell off the rails for the umpteenth time.

Not to mention that my stress and anxiety levels, which I normally keep under control exploded through the roof.

Hence I'm back to where I started.

Although I have shedded the broken skin from my past, I've been forced to deal with it again, even in my recent photos.

So hence, while I normally would post a compilation of my best sides of Cece from this year, I've decided to give this year's edition a miss.

But that doesn't mean I can still post a few pics from my journey that I've been working on....

Hair Growth

My hair.

As you may already know, I've been on a mission as part of my transition to grow out my hair and not rely on a wig.

One year after I started that mission, I can safely say that the wig is now officially retired.

The length is nearly shoulder height and that meant I can now show off my true self more often.

I've had to learn how to not wash my hair on a daily basis to allow the natural oils to do their work, but the results have been great!

I've still got some ways to go before I can do the Sci-Twi bun, but what I have now will do for the time being.

It's a shame that I couldn't go to the beach this year, because I would have loved the wind blowing through my hair!

2021 and Beyond

2021 for Cece will be all about beginning the all important process of transitioning and maybe the commencement of the "magic" stuff. (aka hormones)

I've now got my look, style and even personality set, but there are a few obstacles that need to be overcome, mainly in employment and the community as part of the transition process.

In terms of support groups and actually seeing someone to get the ball rolling, I'll have to venture outside of my home region and into the heart of Sydney. This is mainly due to my region, despite shedding most of it's conservative hard line image, being still stuck in the dark ages.

We had some support groups in the area, but thanks in no part to some idiots threatening violence or bible bashers disrupting meetings, they either had to move to another region or dissolve and close down altogether.

As I said in my "Equal Future" journal in 2019 (link):

"Did you know that 84% of rural and regional Australians who identify as LGBT (plus I,Q and others) believe that some parts of the country are unsafe for people?

Did you also know that half of Australians who also identify as LGBT are not comfortable opening up about their sexuality or gender in a rural town, regional centre or the community?"

It seems while the more things change for the better, some things will stay the same, no matter how much you stand up and fight for what is right.

(Sighs)......

In Conclusion

Normally I would go on about my state of independent living and also the challenges ahead, but I don't feel like doing that this year.

2020 has been a terrible, if not, a disastrous year for many people.

I don't have much else to say but I'm glad to see the end of it.

Plain and simple.

So on those words, have a great new year and hopefully 2021 will be a little more kinder and gentle.

…and remember:

Fascism, racism and bigotry has no place in modern society, so let’s continue to stop it DEAD in its tracks.