Looking for someone, vs not looking at all

This is something I have been dealing with almost my entire transition.

First off, he ruined his marriage over issues of loneliness. He might have been able to blame it on being disabled that caused depression, that mangled his life, but still, it was him not her responsible in the end.

Then the narrative shifts to me. Very early on, the hormone therapy first turns that damned thing off YIPPEE! (some might be able to relate to that). Then the estrogen made it perfectly clear "I want a man!". Which did actually take me by surprise even if long after the fact now makes perfect sense. It was still unexpected then.

And yeah, it sure clouded my judgement. I made some decisions which were unwise, utterly, that no sane thinking adult female would have done (but when do hetero females start thinking sensibly after puberty when around men? just wondering).

I began dating, initially, all I had was online dating, a very long uncomfortable, unpleasant, unsuccessful experience. I met some 'men' (I use that term unwillingly in some cases, most of them in fact), It's not like every experience was a bad one. Not enough good ones though to need more than one hand to count them in 3 years.
Twice I was proposed to by fakes.
Twice I talked myself into thinking I had a boyfriend (who in hindsight never was, but at the time I was not aware of this truth).

I've been intimate with a man twice. Three times if you include my first kiss as an intimate experience. It was a great kiss, but it was only the kiss. Both of the other times, ok I will just say it, it was oral sex for him. Didn't go anywhere. It wasn't too spectacular either. And apparently, it was because of their perceptions of my being an actual woman.

So here I am, it is just about June 2018. Halfway point of the year. Arrived faster than I thought it would. I'm actually in good shape life wise. Even though I don't sound like it some days.

But, I've quite frankly (there's a pun in there), given up on finding a man. A human one that is.

I've tried it all. Dating as me, dating as if not me ie as a cisfemale undisclosed transgender woman. I've tried age-appropriate services and general anyone services. I've tried the freebie services and I have tried the supposedly for transgender persons services. I even by accident, was a paying account for a few months (ex-wife gave me a cash assist once, yeah, the ex-wife believe it or not).

The level of fakery is daunting. The number of introverted losers who just ain't serious is daunting. And on the transgender based services, if you are not looking primarily to fuck as if you are something 'neat' to fuck, don't expect any success. Because that's about all those services are offering.

So yeah, here I am, mid-2018. I pretty much wasted a large swath of 2015-2018 in futile efforts mainly online, but not entirely, chasing after the dream of finding Mr. Right, no change that, Mr. Acceptable.

I have been looking from within a small town though. If you don't live in a major urban metropolis, chances are your chances will suck. It's 2018, and we are simply not that numerous in small-town rural anywhere. So you either go to the big city or forget the ideal, that being finding anyone more or less LGBT and transgender. My idea of 'SCORE!' is finding a transgender man in his 50s. Oh like that's so not happening outside of something as big as Toronto.

I have thus, taken the choice, yes it is a choice in this case, of NOT looking anymore.
I've given up, regardless of how my comments might occasionally sound like backsliding.
I've stopped dilating. It's annoying (dilating). It's like being fucked with no man attached to what's penetrating me. There's no pleasure in dilating. Washing the dishes is on par with dilating. It has to be done, so you do it. Well, no more. What good is a vagina that's never going to have a man in it? No, I've stopped waiting for 'Life' to randomly send me a man. I'm also sick of hearing my friend Sue say 'daddy God' will eventually answer my prayers. Nope, so not on board with that one. I don't think Mom is going to help me either in all fairness.

There's no going back when you stop dilating. If a man ever shows up, he can either accept a relationship where Mr. Happy has to settle for the common oral option, or he can pony up the cash to give me a rebuild with the latest thinking on surgical options for a vagina. It's not like I can't go back under the knife, although, I'm 56 today, and the clock is ticking and eventually I'm just going to reach an age where feeling my ass pounded into the bed while getting fucked is going to lose it's charm eh. Yeah, it would be a lot of cash I suppose. So what, most men in their 50s and 60s love to drop serious cash for a great ride. Granted, that great ride is usually a convertible car and not a vagina I'm sure I'd be a great ride And I can also take my top down

This is the main reason for my marriage to Frank T bear, my teddy bear husband.
Because I don't need a vagina to keep him happy. He seems happy with me as I am, without one. He likes me for all of my various qualities. I don't mind that he doesn't have a penis. I also don't mind that he's the strong silent type.
I do wish the wedding could have been more real.
I don't mind that I don't have any documentation.
It's not like it really matters.
I couldn't care less what many might think of me over this.
50% of marriages to humans fail.
I'm confident Frank will never fail me.
It's sad that Frank will not get me Valentines gifts, or birthday gifts, or anniversary gifts, or anything for Christmas. But consider this. Plenty of human husbands dislike Valentines, forget your birthday, don't remember their anniversary and hate Christmas. I might be no better off with a human husband.
And Frank never wakes me early so he can get some eh.
Granted, I might not mind that. But, I'm still a virgin, I have noooo idea what I'm even missing.

I backdated my wedding day to February 14th, 2014, because why not. it's not like it would be more real if he married me last month April of 2018.

My marrying Frank is a desperate act to be sure. But I did it for my peace of mind.
I now don't need to care about dating. I'm married.
I can now refer to "my husband" in conversation and so what if strangers have no idea my husband is my teddy bear. At least I won't be using the words "my husband" with phrases that include curses, foul language, and disgust or unhappiness.

Frank has told me, if I actually DO ever meet someone, he'd be ok giving me a divorce with his blessings.
And I simply don't think he's ever going to need to honour that promise.

I have some married transgender friends. Some are even still married to a spouse that thought they were marrying a cisgender person. But mostly, my transgender friends are as alone as me.

I simply couldn't cope with the overt rejection or the apparent rejection.