Art

My body is male. Biologically, physically.

My inner self is female. It is not a body. It is being.

That is what makes me a TransWoman.

A natural body is important to me – a bio body. I was born with this body and want to accept it just as it is. Without hormones, without surgery. I embrace it.

As a TransWoman, I have a strong connection with my body. I am very aware of it. It is constantly present, every moment, every second. Because it does not match my inner self.

I am also always consciously aware of my inner woman, and she is constantly present too. She is stronger than the outer self, the body. My true self lies within; that is who I am. I love this inner self, this woman.

I am not the body; I am within it. The inner self comes first; the body follows. The inner self is what is alive; it brings the body to life.

My inner being tells me that this body isn’t right. It isn’t the body that’s telling me this. Otherwise, I would have known it since birth. The body probably doesn’t realise that a woman dwells within it. It’s simply a body, just as it is. It probably doesn’t care. But it needs someone to dwell within it. Otherwise, it is dead. And my inner self needs a body to manifest itself. That is what makes a human being. But it can also exist without a body.

Of course, we need our bodies to recognise all this. Human beings are a convergence of the inner and the outer. A fusion. When we die, we defuse.

Here, as human beings, our inner selves are closely linked to our outer selves, which is precisely why it is so difficult to recognise this separation. In death, we return to that state. We leave the body once more. Perhaps next time I’ll get it right.

It’s a difficult relationship – actually, a conflict. I have to put up with it. I can’t avoid it. It’s a bit like being in prison. It takes mental effort. You can live it. Be it.

Everything revolves around this issue. Even when I’m dreaming, I’m a woman.

It’s not easy to live as a TransWoman. Even when you accept and understand everything. I think I need more energy for my nerves and mental strength. I’m more tired. So now I always have a restful siesta, naked in my linen bed.

If I accept my ‘wrong’ body, it becomes the right one. I simply have the other one. This way, with this body, I can consciously live my woman as a TransWoman. I don’t need to become a woman on the outside, which isn’t possible anyway. Inside, I am a woman. This acceptance gives me contentment and the freedom to be who I am. Existence has created me this way. And I have been given a body that is acceptable for a TransWoman.

The inner self takes precedence over thoughts. Thoughts must adapt to the inner self. Through mental effort. Through analysis. Through observation. Through intuition. Through awareness. Thinking is flexible; the body is not. Thinking is the key. Being able to observe thoughts without identifying with them. After all, I am not my thoughts. In this way, I can perceive and accept this body anew. It is now the male body of a woman. It works.

The body is essential. When I look at my legs, I see beautiful, feminine legs. These legs belong to a woman. At least part of my body is female. That’s why I understand TransWoman who undergo surgical and hormonal treatments. These affirmations simply feel so good.

Everything I recognise in my body that is, in formal terms, actually neutral or feminine, makes me feel good. My feet, my legs, my hands, my small breasts. These could genuinely belong to a woman. And what doesn’t: my belly, no waist, no hips and a masculine face. And I have a penis, but that’s not so important; it’s not very visible. Nor is it a sexual problem. I am a TransWoman.

We have a body here, not to hide it, but to show it off, to celebrate it, to play with it, to have fun, to flirt, to accept it and to enjoy it. To live and to love, to think, to feel and to have sex. Even with the ‘wrong’ body. The other body. As a TransWoman!

Of course, I experience womanhood differently because I have a male body. For example, I have never had a period. That shapes me differently. The male body will always show through in some way, even in the face, and especially as it ages. That is the TransWoman.

You are who you are! Inside and out. There’s nothing you can do to change that. Don’t deny your male body; it’s part of you, it’s your home. A TransWoman and a cis woman are both women on the inside, even if they aren’t exactly the same, as the male body plays a part, but it also has an impact in return. A TransWoman is a real TransWoman, not a real woman.

If you are a woman on the inside and live as a TransWoman, that inner woman can also shine through a male body. People have said that about me, too. It’s about authenticity. It’s also about the joy of your inner being. Bringing that inner being out into the open, through the body you’ve been given.

I can create a certain sense of congruence through my clothes and make-up. My inner self then feels more at ease in my body. The sexier I dress, the greater the sense of congruence I can establish with my inner self. Because I am a trans woman, I don’t need to pretend to be a woman. I’m decorating my male body, so to speak. It’s not self-deception, because I am a woman in a male body. I don’t deny my male body. It always remains visible. I can’t hide it at all.

I now sleep naked, which gives me a new sensual sensation. I love feeling myself like this in bed on the sheets. I feel my body more strongly this way. More feminine?

I’d like to be younger so that I could have a more beautiful, slimmer body. That would make it easier for me to come to terms with being a TransWoman. But now I’m older. Inner feelings have no age; they don’t change. Inside, I’m young, always the same. Only the body changes. Are you young again after death? Then you’re neither young nor old. Without a body. You simply are.

When I see a beautiful naked woman’s body, I sigh. Because I see the body I’d like to inhabit, the one I’d love to have. I also feel the need to touch such a woman’s body, to stroke it, to caress it, to massage it. To draw it into myself. To devour it. To lick it clean. So that it becomes mine. So that my woman is nourished. I’d love to pour my soul, my inner femininity, into her body. To swap places.

When I see myself naked, I sigh too. I see an older male body. But by now I can accept this body all the same, partly because it gives me breasts.

If, as a TransWoman, you realise that you are not your body, but rather your inner self, this can give you a great deal of strength. Because you understand yourself in your entirety. You – your inner being – are free from the body. Inside, you are a woman. Because you recognise your inner self as who you are, as your source of being. The outer form is less important, because you are not that at all. It is merely the animated shell, the body. You can accept it more fully because you live from within. You can also present it more fully. I don’t care if those around me don’t understand this.

The body is a red herring; it is not about changing it. It is about changing false thoughts, recognising them. To maintain a sense of detachment and observe, without identifying with them. They are strongly shaped by the past, upbringing and religion. It’s about spirituality. Generating awareness. Understanding yourself – above all, realising that you are not the body. Then you can actually relax and be happy. Like me – I love myself just as I am. I’ve never felt better. Being authentic is the most important thing.

My penis

I am a woman with a penis.

It is now a woman’s penis. A TransWoman’s. If I fully accept my body, the penis is naturally part of it. It is a wonderful toy. It doesn’t need to go away. I am still a woman! You can see the bulge too. Don’t hide it.

My penis does not define the woman inside me; it is part of my body. It has no influence on the woman inside me. But it does have an influence on the TransWoman. Being trans is not about sexuality. It is not a sexual problem.

Now I have a new relationship with it. I had to get to know it anew, accept it anew. Understand that it now belongs to a woman and no longer to a man, that this is simply a possibility and that it works. Reprogramming my thinking. It’s as if I’m going through puberty all over again. I can’t change my body, after all, and surgery is absurd.

I’m wearing it up now. It feels different to how it used to – lighter, more positive, and more conscious too. I put on women’s knickers that pull my penis and testicles upwards. That way, I’ve got nothing between my legs, which also makes my legs look longer. I can feel my thighs better too. The clitoris is at the top, just like my penis is now. It’s becoming more visible, but that’s fine – I’m a TransWoman!

In the photographic work with Vanessa Naef, I’m naked and you can see a bit of my penis. Even so, I see myself as a woman in these photographs. It was a lovely experience.

My testicles

Now that I’m a woman, they sometimes bother me because they take up space. In a bodysuit or even in knickers, they tend to bulge out at the sides. Where else are they supposed to go? I wear my penis pointing upwards, so they can only take up space on the left and right. Apart from that, I do quite like them – they’re so sensitive and erotic.

My anus, my bum

I find that erotic too. The area around it is very sensitive. I like wearing thongs; they make me more aware of my bum and anus, and they look lovely with tights – they give my bum a nice shape.

My breasts

I love my small breasts! They bring me such joy. They’re a gift! They started to grow even before I realised I was a woman. I used to be flat-chested. Now I see having breasts as normal; it just feels right. My body supports me as a woman! I don’t need to do anything artificially! They’ve even helped me to recognise myself as a woman. They’re such a powerful symbol of femininity. And it’s amazing that my body can change so much at my age. It’s down to hormones. Perhaps also to the realisation of my inner self as a woman.

I’ve been experiencing new sensations in my breasts, especially in my nipples; it can be arousing. There’s also a connection to the penis.

Out of curiosity, I’ve tried wearing bras. It makes me more aware of my breasts; I feel them more strongly. The inner sensation is more important to me than having large, artificial breasts. Now I sometimes put one on.

I find visual accents very interesting. Darkening the colour of the nipples and combining them with a bra made solely of underwires. That creates two semicircles beneath the breasts. Or a contrasting-coloured bra worn under a shirt. The tops need to be slightly sheer or openwork.

The nipples are the crowning glory; it’s so enchanting when they’re visible. It sometimes takes a bit of courage. I really love showing them off; they’re so delicate and sexy. Show off your crowns!

Women wear leggings that reveal the pubic bone and a lovely bottom. But when it comes to the breasts, it’s trickier. The nipples mustn’t be visible. Why? They’re such a beautiful thing. When I show them, I notice how provocative it is. Yet they’re actually the nipples of a male body. But on me, they look as if they belonged to a female body. Do women often get breast cancer because they don’t accept their breasts?

My face is a chapter in itself

My tummy

I have a tummy. Sometimes it bothers me, as it makes it harder to wear miniskirts. Dresses work quite well, even really tight-fitting ones. And the ones that start like a skirt just below the bust hide my tummy beautifully. But sometimes my tummy also has something very feminine, sensual – a certain roundness – which I actually quite like at times. Then it suits me when it’s visible. It’s not really that bad, but I’m still trying to lose a bit of weight.

My legs

I didn’t realise my legs were so beautiful. Now I love showing them off and I’m delighted because they’re so sexy and feminine. Women often tell me they’re beautiful. They help me show off my femininity. I prefer them bare. Looking at them gives me a great sense of satisfaction. Of course, I remove the hair. They have spots or scars, but that doesn’t bother me; the feeling of freedom is so lovely. And paired with heels, they’re simply amazing! And sexy!

My feet.

They’re small – size 39 – and beautiful, and so cute with painted nails. A woman’s feet! I love looking at them. I like them; I find feet erotic. The sole lifted off the ground. It goes hand in hand with high heels. Or toes spread apart. I also love to touch, stroke or massage feet. I often walk barefoot, but of course I also love wearing high heels. They give my wife such wonderful support.

My hands

I’m constantly aware of them. They’re small. It’s essential that I wear nail varnish. That’s how I see my wife’s hands. Sometimes I look at them as if they weren’t my own. I can watch them, and then they really are a woman’s hands! Of course, I’m always observing women’s hands too. They can be more delicate and also stretch out further.

The voice

I’d love to have a woman’s voice. Sometimes it bothers me when I hear myself speaking. Especially when I swear. It reminds me so strongly of the time before. I love chansons, Schlager and pop by French female singers. I love listening to their enchanting voices. Perhaps I’d have liked to become a singer.

The hair

Flowing long hair is so sensual and feminine. Women have such a beautiful quality. Mine is long too; it’s almost always been that way. Now it’s dyed with henna and it suits me well. I sometimes dampen it with water, twirl it round its axis and let it dry. That creates wild waves! At the moment, I prefer to wear a little bun. A little crown. For a little princess.