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C-6 Senators

Kidnapped by a brutal captor that told me I could fit into society, but gender ideology lied to me

Updated: Nov 11, 2023


Before Medical Transition

-Transman Scott Newgent


I was thirty-seven and full of vinegar, success, and cockiness that made people either curious or instantly hate me; there was no in-between with me. I mirrored the look Gillian Andersen embraced and perfected on the X-Files: businesswoman with a feminine flair. I was the epitome of what one would title a head tilter, a question mark, as I walked away. Raised within a family of beautiful women, I studied how they worked the sexiness they were gifted. Within my family, women were powerful in a passive-aggressive way, but nevertheless powerful. I was no different from an outward appearance. Still, inward, I encapsulated an insatiable desire to win in a man's world and in a man's way, nothing passive-aggressive about me. I was succeeding, crushing any man who tried to compete with me, and I was on fire.


 
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I never quite learned to allow males to win gracefully, to acquiesce to ensure a man's pride was left intact; grace was something I’d never learned. My career was in full bloom, selling advertising at a new company, and I had the Midas touch. If you challenged me, you were exploited in failure, and I lifted for all to see. I walked swiftly and with intent; I had no time for small talk. I had a mission, and that mission was to crush anyone who dared to throw their hat in the ring with me.


It was my first day at a new company, and I had taken my seat in the most prominent chair I could find for the Monday morning meeting. I sat back, crossed my legs, and watched as others came through the door. It wasn't long before the meeting started, the ordinary cheerleading meeting within a sales organization, and I had tuned out, my mind trying to organize my week and align what my plan of attack was going to be.


I paid no attention as an introduction for a senior manager ensued: "Lynette will now go over quarterly numbers and expectations." As I scribbled in my notebook, I heard a voice that instantly caught my ear. I looked up and lost myself, literally almost falling off my chair. Immediately I lost all composure and flushed in the face. My God, the woman who was speaking was something I had dreamed of my entire life. She encapsulated everything I ever could detail in what a beautiful woman would look like. It was as if God and I had lunch and He asked me to describe the most beautiful woman in the world. Here she was, right in front of me, and it took everything I had not to go to her at that moment.



I guess my near-fall caught her by surprise as well. As soon as our eyes met, she suddenly couldn't find her words, and I became embarrassed for her. She was in her late forties, radiating success with her expensive attire, jewelry, and appearance. You don't acquire what she had by timid awkwardness within a room full of businessmen. She stumbled through her speech, looking at me the entire time, me staring at her, and it was obvious to all.


Lynette did something to me no woman had ever done before, and that was to scare the shit out of me. I glanced at her hand and saw a diamond ring that had enough prominence to tell me the man she was married to was of significance. I knew at that moment Lynette was something to stay away from. I knew from that instant if we began to talk we would fall madly in love. My intuition has always played a part in my success in sales, and anyone I knew would have thought I was crazy to believe Lynette would fall madly in love with me. A married, Catholic, conservative, straight-laced, wealthy woman, come on, Kellie, are you dreaming? Was I? Or was my intuition as razor sharp as ever?


Later in the day, the general manager walked Lynette around the building, to introduce herself to all the new salespeople who had started that day. The second I heard them in the hallway, I gathered my things, stuffed them into my bag, shrugged on my jacket, and began to walk out of the office, “Kellie, don't go, I want to introduce you to Lynette,” the GM said. I nodded as I ran past, “Yeah, nice to meet you, gotta run. I have an appointment.” I was a top salesperson wherever I went so I didn’t have to hold myself to the niceties other overage salespeople had to endure. The GM made excuses for me as I ran down the stairs, “She’s busy, yes she was top salesperson of the year at her other company, she’s going to rock things here.”


For months I avoided Lynette. It could have been in a movie the way I strategized every time I came into the office, as comical as if written for a sitcom. “Kellie, Kellie,” I would hear, there would be Lynette, and my walk would suddenly turn into a jog of great desperation and need to exit wherever I was. “Sorry Lynette, I have an appointment,” any excuse and off I’d go. At home I would talk to my ex Melissa who I still resided with, our love affair had ended years prior but we remained best friends, and I would go into great detail. She thought I was nuts, especially when she came to my office one day and saw Lynette walking through the office. “Her? Kellie, come on, she’s as straight as they come.”


I became so tense around Lynette that I decided I needed to find another job. I asked for and was granted an assignment out of town and out of the office for three months. My relief was not only emotional but physical, and I decided that three months was long enough to find another job and be done with what I could feel was coming. Odd, I know, for someone I had never had a conversation with other than running away. Me running away as she approached was the entirety of our relationship, but deep down I knew if we started to talk, something of significance was going to happen. And she was married, and it was wrong, wrong, wrong.


While on my three-month assignment, I lined up a potential job with another company. I was in the late stages of negotiations when a new system took place within my company. Any recent sales that took advantage of discounts for heftier sales had to all be approved through Lynette. I happened to have three when I came back, and that meant I had to go to Lynette to get signatures of approval. My head fell into my hands at my desk as I stared at the three deals.


I went home that night and talked to Melissa, who assured me that anything romantic with Lynette was a figment of my imagination and I should get some professional help, all in jest, but I thought maybe she was right. In my bed that night, I realized Lynette was physically for me the perfect woman, every aspect of her something that I would detail if I was physically designing a woman I would be attracted to. Her hair, eyes, skin, shape, voice, her sexy little hop when she walked, the scent of her perfume as she passed, her insanely sexy glares: everything was perfect. I fell asleep that night feeling like an idiot. This was all me; she was a straight, Catholic, married woman on whom I had a massive crush. I was simply a lesbian with a teenage-like crush, that's all, how embarrassing.


The next morning I walked with confidence to her office with my three deals in my hands. I was so embarrassed that I had let my imagination make such a big deal out of nothing, and so I knocked on her door, my head held high.


"Yes, come in."


I opened the door, and our eyes met. She lit up with smiles and stood to welcome me "Wow, I finally get to speak to you, huh?"


I nodded, placed the three deals on her desk, and started to explain why they qualified for the discounts, trying to focus solely on business. More than two hours passed with her office door closed, and when I left with approvals in hand, she followed me to the elevator.


As I got into my car to drive home, I took a moment before I started the engine, and I reflected on the hours I had just spent with the woman who had been torturing my thoughts for months. The image and personality I saw within Lynette's office that day didn't match the Lynette people knew at work. I saw a child-like woman, blundering, trying to find her words. She had a longing when she looked my way and started a slight sway in her hips if I caught her eye standing across the office. One day I saw her bite her lip before the swaying began, and it was these moments that I didn't think I was crazy. These moments triggered an involuntary knee-jerk reaction of the infamous walk that turned into a jog. A saying in my mind followed every walk-jog as the jog took over, "Lord baby Jesus help me get me the fuck out of here; Oh God, sorry about the fuck, I promise no more fucks if you get me out of this."


Days would pass, and I would once again talk myself into the idea all this was a foolish lesbian crush and embarrassment would ensue. These thoughts became cyclical. Sometimes as I walked through the office, I would start to chuckle for no reason. These were the moments I realized I was an idiot.


However, after that afternoon in her office, I could not afford myself those lapses from reality to blow our connection off with a chuckle. Our interaction confirmed what I had known all along.


Lynette was a dynamic senior manager with strong business acumen; she expressed her ideas with intent and confidence, but never emasculated men. She didn't need to. Lynette was no one to mess with, but she never lost her softness, her femininity; she had learned a hard lesson for women in business to understand. If you are a tough woman like I was, you’d better not falter because if and when you do, males wolves come out and they never leave their pack: males business executives stick together.


Lynette learned how to manage projects and people and elevate her ideas by allowing others to feel like they were a part of everything she did, but she mastered not giving too much rope and also knew when to let go. If you crossed her, she got you, but you didn't think she was coming after you when she was, and you would have no clue when she was kicking your ass. The only thing you would be sure of was that you would be in front of the office building with a cardboard box holding all of your personal property inside with a big red sticker that said, "You Are Fired." While you stood there trying to figure out what had just happened, Lynette would pass and you would say, "Bye Lynette and thanks. I am going to miss you."


Please don't mistake this as a bad thing or a character issue; this is a survival thing that women have to master. To this day, a woman cannot be in business the same way a man is. Every level a woman achieves means being twice as astute as every man who tried to get to that spot first. You can either accept that and succeed as Lynette did exceptionally well, or never rise into leadership. Women are still not given as much choice as one might think, and Lynette was never ruthless when ruthless was not warranted. She rose in a time when sexual harassment was like going to lunch; it happened every day to every woman. Lynette was ingenious and brilliant, and one of the cutest things about her is she had no clue just how incredible her skills were. She blamed her success on luck, another thing women are notorious for. Lynette was successful because of one thing and one thing alone: Lynette.



That afternoon, I didn't fall in love with Lynette. I already had the first day I heard her voice and nearly fell off my chair when our eyes met and when she was unable to find her words for the speech she was giving. That day dozens watched two people experience what most believe cannot happen: love at first sight.


But that afternoon alone in her office wasn't about sex or physical touch, nothing like that happened. What happened that day was two people finding each other, two people who felt like they found a home, where everything made sense.

Lynette rose as I walked in, passing me as if she was leaving the room, but did not. Instead she pulled her door closed for privacy. "How was Wichita?" Lynette asked, and before I could elaborate in length, she took over jumping into her career, detailing how she became who she was with intimate detail.


Two things happened then that were foreign to us both. The first was Lynette's candidness, revealing aspects of her life without much prodding, and this was not who Lynette ordinarily was. Lynette was what I call a closed, open person, very politically correct, had mastered engaging small talk yet revealed nothing. Lynette was the popular girl in school who everyone believed they knew intimately, the first one to be on guest lists and the last for people to attack. But it was an act, and I realized that afternoon no one knew who she really was: not her husband, not even herself. In talking to me, Lynette realized this, and subconsciously something told her I was the one who could help her find herself.


The second foreign thing that happened is that I didn't talk, which if you knew me, well let's say you would have expected pigs to be flying outside the office window. I listened, reflected, and wanted to know more with as much intensity as I could tell she wanted to give. I was a, "sit down, shut up, here's the deal, this is why" type. But not on that day. I was reticent while encouraging her to release what was evident she was yearning to tell me. Although she was eleven years older and significantly higher in title, she didn't appear so that day or any other. Lynette always felt like a woman who when I walked into the room took in a big breath her shoulder rising and then lowering in a big sigh, as if almost saying,

"Thank God you are here, Kellie, I need you."

 

"So, I had to leave him. I loved him, but he wasn't working, and I needed to take care of our two boys, so I moved here from Texas as a sales manager. On the day we divorced and Brian went to court, we cried together, and the judge even asked if this was something we wanted to do. I knew I had to; I couldn't work as hard as I was without contribution. So I came here, driving through the snow over the weekend my director gave me to move. I packed up and found an apartment. It was hard, but I wanted a better life for my kids. I love all my friends here; I have great friends. I don't know what I would do without them. In school, I was tiny and had mousey brown hair. People think I’m Spanish or Mexican, but I’m actually full-blooded Sicilian, second generation. Do you know I paid for my braces at 16? Yeah, my parents were hard workers, but I have seven siblings, so we didn't have much money. It didn't take me long, and I had a house in Lee Summit. The realtor came on to me at closing time. It was so weird. I never dated much. It's rare when I'm attracted to a man. I like broad shoulders and oh, well you know, I didn't want to go through another divorce, so I had to have the whole package; not many men have that, you know. I got my first annulment through the Catholic Church; he didn't do his husbandly duties of supporting his family, which is very important. You cannot divorce. It's against God, so in God's eyes with my annulment, it was like I’d never been married."


 

I watched her as she spoke, and I began to understand that Lynette had no idea what she was doing. She had never fallen in love before. Her childhood was a rigid structure filled with love, but very Catholic, and not just the Catholic family that goes to Mass. Lynette's parents were by-the-book strict old-school Roman Italian “Full-Blooded Sicilian” Catholics. She had all the classic telltale signs: a virgin until she married in her mid twenties; she spoke about her first husband with love but more as a business deal, checking off boxes of how he passed or didn't pass as a husband. Her current husband didn’t even make the conversation, and I found it interesting, realizing she had more feelings for her first husband than her current. Questions I posed about her current husband met with a swat of the hand and some excuse to jump over it. I realized this woman was passionate, intense, seductive, and had never felt what makes all of us crazy and wacko and what is something that we all yearn for: a true lover. She never had one in her 48 years of life. You know the kind of lover who doesn’t fit any boxes, makes no sense, and could possibly be the worst person on the planet to fall in love with and would flatten all your aspirations you thought you ever had, and yet you can’t stop it and it ends up being the best decision of your life. Yeah, that kind. She was acting like a woman falling off the cliff with no idea she was about to hit the ground and had no clue what that was going to mean.



For both of us at that moment in time, everything aligned perfectly. We both felt a peace wash over us as if we handed in our card and said we get life. We don’t need to work at life as hard as we both have, it makes sense, we get it, God; it was honest and natural and something to this day makes me believe life is not only what we see, hear, and taste, but there is something else. At this one moment in time, I felt like I could breathe for the first time since I was born and it was not only her that never had the lover I described above, it was my first as well. It was after that afternoon passed that the glimpse into something magical became a memory I will never forget. The only difference we had that afternoon was I understood what was happening and Lynette had no clue.


And yet ironically, in the end, I had no idea that I would end up changing the most. Lynette was the spark of the bomb that would explode my life to become what it is today.

by Transman Scott Newgent


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chartley65
chartley65
Nov 09, 2023

Falling in love with the wrong person is bad enough. To have a medical system that facilitates extreme body modification rather than exploring the psychological and social issues leading someone to be dysphoric about their body is a whole other level of messed up. Someone is benefiting from this, and it isn't the dysphoric patient.

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Guest
Nov 07, 2023

Thanks for sharing, it is very interesting learning about how and why you were eventually sucked into the the con job that is transgenderism. I look forward to your next installation.

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I would give anything legal save my FtM, almost 3 years self identifies so she told me learned from the Internet almost 3 yrs, back.

Pediatric psychiatrist diagnosed within one Zoom session in 2021.  With ROGD transgender ideation; Solidifying her dysphoric belief !!!

My beautiful soul Stuck in the dysphoric abyss – “daughter”, Perhaps now secretly microdosing??, (suicide attempted slit wrist's straight up radius on meds, Best friend female to male Microdosing T) so they call it.


Kellie— I’m Donnamarie the one you were going to come and stay with in Victoria. I remember you saying "if you can save one girl you would.🙏🏻🙏🏻 from Medicalization/Surgeries."

I’m begging you set up a zoom…


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Guest
Nov 07, 2023

Wow! Devastating!


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