After the Leather Social, Cicero and I were both very tired and went straight to bed. In the morning, he had to get up for work. I hid on the stairs while he attended his first meeting of the morning. After showering, I snuggled next to him and gently caressed him, while he got enough work done to make the day survivable.

Continuing my adventures at the London Leather Weekend... Content note: This post includes kink, BDSM dynamics, and sexual themes (non-graphic). Once the three of us woke, Cicero again made coffee. We ate chocolate bars for breakfast, then engaged in a sort of sexy triskelion. Another first. It was another lazy day, watching American Horror, lounging on the sofa, and just…

Following on from London Leather 1... Content note: This post includes kink, BDSM dynamics, and sexual themes (non-graphic). I woke next to the little Philippino guy, who started by cuddling me before going full on randy rabbit. He was a little sweetie with very sensitive nipples. For some guys, the nipples are the most sensual and sexual parts of their bodies.

Content note: This post includes kink, BDSM dynamics, and sexual themes (non-graphic). I am off to London to spend another fun weekend with Cicero! The dog has been packed off to have her little holiday in the country. I have packed a large trekking rucksack with toiletries and kink gear. It weighs a tonne! I have my harness, PU "leather" jeans and shorts, a few shiny tops, a few normal T shirts, all my medications packed into tiny pots marked AM and PM (tip to fellow travellers: save the sauce pots from takeaways to use as pill pots), and a variety of toiletries.

The first thing I did when Richard (my counsellor) arrived was apologise for breaching his privacy by looking at his dating profile earlier in the week. He was fine - I said that I was so shocked about crossing the boundary that I swiped left, but I could have "woofed" or swiped right. So I looked at him and said "woof" to make up for it, and we chinked our mugs of tea.

After reading the Minister for Equalities' response – which Satvir forwarded to me as promised – I felt it was important to reply. Satvir's own correspondence has been clear, candid, and genuinely supportive; the Minister's, less so. Click here to read the email from Satir and the minister's response. Here’s the reply I’ve sent to Satvir: Dear Satvir, Thank you very much for sending the Minister’s response, and for your continued engagement on this issue.

In a bored moment, I was on one of the gay dating apps idly swiping through "matches". Too young, swipe left, etc. Then a nice face appears. "Isn't that my counsellor?" I ask myself. Before I had time to think about it and such questions as "boundaries", I am looking at his profile in more detail. Seconds later I am "Fuck!

A little while ago I wrote to my MP, Satvir Kaur, about the political and media hostility towards trans people, and the very real consequences we're now seeing in healthcare, policing, and daily life. You can read that earlier post here if you missed it. A few days ago I received a thoughtful, clear, and genuinely compassionate reply from Satvir. She set out the actions she has already taken, including writing to the Secretary of State and engaging with local LGBTQ+ organisations.

The Weight of Remembrance Every year on 20 November, communities around the world gather to mark the Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDoR). It began in 1999, after the murder of Rita Hester, a Black trans woman in Massachusetts. Her death - and the silence that followed - sparked outrage in her local community. Vigils were held. Names were spoken aloud.

I had to visit the sexual health clinic to pick up my PrEP (Pre Exposure Prophylactics - a pill that can be taken to make one HIV resistant). They need to perform a few tests - most noticeably kidney function because PrEP can stress the kidneys if taken too often. Of course, there were also one tests for various STDs and a couple of vaccines (for gonorrhoea and monkey pox).

This is a posthumous novel; I don't know how much are Edmund's own words and what was added to complete the story. It is kind of autobiographical, but with an imaginative twist: it is set in the far future with the protagonists looking backwards towards a part of their life that they shared with Edmund. The future setting creates a strange melancholy distance, as if Edmund is eulogising his own life from a vantage point he never lived to see.

It's been years since my husband last joined me on one of ritual trips to Clevedon. I had asked Patricius to come, when I'd originally planned to go on the Saturday, but he had plans and when I switched to the Sunday because of the weather I felt that I wanted to be alone. Since my husband left I have been busy and social - and yesterday's trip to the puppy play social left me emotionally bankrupt with a desperate need to recharge.

At the weekly cinema trip with Ambrosius, I was feeling tired and a little out of sorts. This morning actual tears are coming: I am feeling unbearably sad. The dog knows that I'm sad and fussed me. My husband would understand, and today I deeply miss his embrace. Maybe today the losses are just too much: the longer loss of my mum, and the more recent separation from my husband.

A modest proposal for ending the gender toilet wars This morning, in the men's loos at work, I had a revelation - or possibly a near-death experience by ammonia. The smell hit me first: that unmistakable tang of stale wee. Then the sight - the seat thoughtfully left down, but thoughtfully used as a target. As I tiptoed between puddles of uncertain origin, it struck me that perhaps this is what the TERFs are really afraid of.

Every few weeks I go out for lunch with my boss. This is in our capacity as "mates" rather than boss-man and sidekick, although we do talk a bit about work because that's what we mostly have in common. Today I had my usual - fajitas - but I think I'll have to try something else 'cos they've changed the recipe and now they taste meh.

I've not heard from my husband for a few days. I was getting worried. He's not the world's greatest responder to messages, but I like to know that he's "OK" (whatever that means). Actually, that means alive, not excessively ill, and not in any kind of danger or crisis. This morning I sent him a check-in message, asking after his health, and telling him that I was in the office today and that the dog would enjoy his company - I even had some chocolate brasils for him!

My test results have come back! All clear - I don't have any infections. They tested for: Urine, throat, and rectal Chlamydia Urine, throat, and rectal Gonorrhoea HIV Syphilis Hepatitis C and B Which is an enormous relief … especially since I'm off to see Cicero for a kinky leather weekend soon! That's not a bad turnaround - I posted the tests on Friday morning, I got the results by text Wednesday lunchtime.

Things are getting deeper in counselling. Tonight we started talking about history, because I said that the last time we spoke that I felt tears behind my eyes and strong emotions when I started talking about why the history of my relationship was important. I talked about the bits and bobs I have around the house, why they are important to me and what piece of our history they related to.

I have been for a run! The first since my heart attach ten weeks ago! I thought that I might try it this morning - I had a horrible anxious feeling that's been building for a while, although what it's about, I do not know. My best guess is that I am used to a haunting and creeping anxiety about when my husband would next have an episode and how severe it would be.

Ambrosius and I caught the coach to Bournemouth; fifty minutes, partly motorway, partly through the forest. He's good company and funny, so the time flew by. There were only three other people on the coach, plus the driver, which felt relaxing. Two of them got off halfway there, so the coach was even quieter! At Bournemouth we walked towards the town centre, noticing all the cafes and restaurants, and shopping along the way.

I had the day off to go to Bournemouth with my friend Ambrosius. We were catching a coach at midday with the intention of spending the afternoon in the sauna. Clearly, I would be going to participate only through the form of voyeurism. Since I had time, I went to the gym for an hour. That felt good, but I have to be so aware of what my heart is doing - in particular it doesn't respond well to quick changes in tempo or too much intensity.

I'be booked the day off work, and today was meant to be my third attempt at enjoying the sauna properly. The last two times, I didn’t relax - didn’t play - just sat there like a bewildered monk, wondering what everyone else seemed to be doing so effortlessly. This time I wanted to get it right. I’d even promised myself a little gin and tonic from the bar - just the one - to take the edge off and help me loosen up a bit.

I wake up with headache most days. Possibly dehydrated after sleep. Sometimes, the headache will pass after coffee, which confirms that it's dehydration - or possibly caffeine withdrawals. Some days the headache persists and gets worse; that I put it down to stress or noise or light. This morning, something new occurred to me. In the last days before she died, mum couldn't drink - she couldn't hold anything down.

I had a friend over last night. Originally, he was going to come over and we'd watch Wicked together because he's obsessed with the film. We watched a two other films instead. He was wonderful with the dog - she calms down soon much better when she's involved (by which I mean she is acknowledged, allowed to snuggle with us on the sofa).