This is my journal. I’ll say who I am in a moment. The purpose of this journal is to explain, from beginning to present who I am and my current living arrangement for the sake of my therapist, Doctor Grace Foreman. She asked me to write this so she can make sure my mind is sound and true. The reason for this is because I was involved in an experimental process that will cut the time a transgender person has to spend in surgery and the like. I have no problem with this, so let me get started with this baby.

 

I started off life as a male. My name is Clark Smith. I was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania for those wondering. Though I was never happy that way. Being male I mean, not living in Pittsburgh. I love that. Anyway, I was diagnosed with gender dysphoria though there wasn’t much I could do about it. It wasn’t until I was thirty three that I could do something about it. I saved up the money for years, always worried about what my family would say the moment I did it. I lived with them, you see, because I couldn’t afford a place of my own and save up for the still experimental program that would allow me to change my species and my gender. My parents were disabled. My mom also had physical custody of my then ten year old nephew. That also would have been difficult to explain.

 

Eventually, and thankfully though, I did find a small apartment near my mother’s home. This is way I could walk to my mother’s home and help her take care of my nephew, Tyler, but not have to actually live with them. It definitely helped improve my relationship with her, though I still had the secret to maintain. I would take my nephew to the park when I could, to give her sometime to herself. She seemed thankful for that. I’m a family person, what can I say besides that?

 

Change my species? Oh yeah, I always wanted to be an anthro if I could. Why? Because their soft and warm. Their fuzz is amazing! But also because from what I’ve found, the anthropomorphic community has always been kind and supportive. Sure, you’ve had bigots and idiots but you had that with the human community too. Difference being, the anthro or furry community if you were a bigot, ate theirs. Of course, they had to wait for due process and predation was only for criminals. Humanity seemed to embrace theirs. So for as long as I was old enough to see the d

 

But anyway, I had had enough of hiding who I was. I was worried, yes, but I also hoped that my mother would love me for who I was personality wise, not the gender or the species I was. My stepfather, well he was more my brother’s father than any relations to me, I decided that I didn’t care one way or another what he thought of me. We had never had a very good relationship to begin with. That began when his son, then his grandson were born. I just accepted it for what it was. Sure, it made me sad but it was what it was you know? Nothing I could do about it.

 

I remember it was Easter Sunday. I had just hit a high in my life, getting a job at a prestigious university in my area as a librarian and wanted to celebrate with my family. But I also knew that I had to do something and say something. I didn’t speak to anyone directly though, too scared to. I saw no real reason to bring up the turmoil on a holiday as well. I stayed as long as I could handle. That was long enough to have lunch and then see Tyler play with what toys he got. As I left, I put a note on the table.

 

Here’s what it said:

 

Mom,

 

I have been struggling with the words to express this. I’ve struggled with this item for going on ten years. It pains me to do this on this day but I could think of no other. For years you said that you wanted a daughter. You’d go on and on about how you’d prefer having a daughter over two sons.

 

What if I told you that you already had a daughter? She was just born wrong. Not that it’s your fault. But these things happen

 

I am transgender, mom. This is not your fault either. It’s just the way things are. I have a list of names I’d like to talk to you about and get your input on. Call me when you get over the shock.

 

I love you.

 

That’s the letter, one hundred percent. I did get the call about two or three weeks later. I won’t recount it here but it was very painful. And it ended in me never talking to my family again, even poor Tyler.

 

But enough about the past. I still love my family great but they are nothing to me at the moment.

 

So I had finally saved enough to get the transition I wanted, completely. No half assing it for me. I met with my doctor, a man named William Troughton, and began to explain what I wanted. This entire time I went to therapy. That’s why I’m writing this and why there’s no dialogue by the way. My therapist wanted me to keep track of my thoughts and write down everything that happened. In case Tyler or my mom wanted to read it and find out what happened. I wanted to keep what I said between my therapist and I a secret.

 

Anyway, meeting with Doctor Troughton, we started to map out where I was and where I’d be going. I had really stepped up my own exercise regimen wanting to loose as much weight as possible to make the procedure easier. I had also started to grow my hair out, the tips reaching the middle of my back quite easily.

 

I decided on being a red panda because I liked the species. They were playful and awesome, but dangerous when needed. And they looked so adorable. Have you ever not looked at one and gone ‘awww’ ? I have. So that’s why I chose one.

 

I gave myself a pleasing form. Curvy and thick, but not fat. No offense to anyone but I grew up at six foot even and close to three hundred pounds. I wanted to be small but still have a big enough booty, the type that guys hated to see go but loved to watch leave yknow? What can I say? I wanted to be attractive.

 

The Doctor and I agreed that my figure out indeed be curvy and thanks to the type of procedure we were going for, I was going to be able to have children! As a male I was infertile, so I saw no reason not to jump on this. My ******* wanted to be big. Big enough that I’d understandably have a hard time buttoning shirts sometimes but not backbreaking. I think it accomplished

 

Everything about me oozed *** appeal but it wasn’t in a bad way. I wasn’t going to look like a slut or anything or act like one for that matter. But I loved my curves. My belly was trim but with just enough fat to make it look cute and tickle-able. I was athletic, like a jogger but without all the big muscles. Just simply athletic. Overall, I still looked like I was thirty three but an awesome thirty three year old who simply loved her body. I changed my hair color to blonde, tired of the same dark locks all the time.

 

I can’t really say anything about my markings or coloring. I mean they weren’t exactly original. Hard to do anything original when you’re deciding on a red panda. I will say that I did ask for a little diamond between my eyes just because I thought it’d look neat and because it’d keep people’s eyes on my eyes and not anywhere else. A woman has to be nice right? No reason to yell ‘EYES UP HERE’ all the time right?

 

Anyway, I looked ravishing on screen. I wasn’t quit there yet. I just had to wait until everything on their end was ready, which according to Doctor Troughton wouldn’t take long. Just a few tweaks and making sure the money was there. Oh, yeah and my university was a-okay with all of this! I made sure before I even got the job. So I was secure financially, was okay as far as friends went. The only real roadblock was my family. But eventually made up with my mom We don’t talk as much as we used to, but I get to see Tyler more often. So there’s that.

 

The process finally occurred in October. It was painless as Dr. Troughton said it would be. It involved a complete rewrite of my DNA through a repair/recode virus. I fell into...as best as I can describe it would be nothingness. I mean I didn’t die, as in it wasn’t an actual death but it sure felt like it. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, IV for fluids and a heartbeat monitor the only thing hooked up to me. I was alone in the room, though the nurses would later tell me that my mother did stop into the room to make sure that I was alright and that there was someone in case I woke up. I guess that relationship can be mended. That’s good.

 

The doctor checked my vitals later and then made sure I remembered who I was. My memory in tact, I had to stay for a week to make sure all of my parts were working. It was amazing, modern technology! Went from male to female, human to red panda in less than a couple of months and would be ready to go home in a couple of weeks. It was simply amazing.

 

What I found out after all of this is that while the anthro community can be very nice, it can be very cruel sometimes too. I signed up for a dating site shortly after my—what do you call it?--transformation? Regeneration? Anyway, after my appearance changed I signed up for this site. I wanted to start out as friends first, and move on. I was also working so that made checking it all the time a little hard.

 

Some furs were interested but when we’d go to meet they’d never show up. Same with humans, though I think some just found it odd to be seen with an an anthro. I did receive hate mail and voicemails full of hate speech. I was about to give up. I really was. I thought I’d have to move to a new city, give up this fantastic job. I loved the research I could do and had even begun writing novels on the side! I have a romance novel with a publisher in fact, fingers crossed.

 

Then I met him. He was...sorry, is a nice man. I know I’m switching tenses, so sue me. I have to describe him in the present not the past. His name is Seth. He was a part time professor at the university and works as a graphics designer when his classes aren’t in the semester. It’s really neat. It’s nice to talk to someone from academic point of view but it’s also really sweet to finally have some just to cuddle.

 

He’s a good friend too. One of the best I’ve ever had. We met off the site and I remember the first dinner we had. He loves stroking my fur and I definitely don’t mind him doing it. We just it off right.

 

We started to date, him not minding that I was transgender and formerly human. He was fascinated with that more than anything. That’s another reason I wrote this journal was to try to show him some insight into my mind. I’ll show him this once I’m done I hope he reads the previous paragraphs and realize everything I said about him is one hundred percent true.

 

We’re sitting on the couch right now actually. Together. Just the glow of the TV on some romantic movie. Yes, I’m writing while he’s watching. He doesn’t mind. In fact, he’s stroking my thigh right now which is very distracting but very nice. It certainly sends a thrill up my spine. If he’s not careful, he may start something he’ll only hope to finish.

 

My only words are this, to close this out, my name was Clark Smith. Now it’s Clarissa Smith. I chose that name of my own free will and volition. I am a red panda, I am female and I am happy. Most importantly, I am in love.