The Yin and Yang of Gender

 

Yin and Yang from Gabriel Vasiliu 
on UnSplash. 

You might ask why I would write a post explaining why I was in such a hurry to transition into my womanhood when it took me nearly fifty years to come out of my gender shell. I finally discovered I was in a classic war between my yin and yang personalities.

Today, I am writing to explain the two forces I faced as I decided when and how to transition. My own personal yin and yang of gender. I guess it doesn’t matter which of the two forces I had to deal with, or if my yin side was feminine and my yang side was masculine because both were prominent parts of my life. Yang flourished because he had to early in my life and yin did the same when she finally had a chance to live and exist. I found this description from “Wikipedia” which backs up my theory:

“In Chinese creation theory, the universe develops out of a primary chaos of primordial qi or material energy, organized into the cycles of yin and yang, force and motion leading to form and matter. "Yin" is retractive, passive, contractive and receptive in nature in a contrasting relationship to "yang" that is repelling, active, expansive and repulsive.” It described me completely.

Yin and yang caught me chasing my tail as I would run back to the mirror as quickly as I could to put on a dress, make-up, and convince myself how pretty I was. It was yang’s primary form of escaping any potentially troublesome situations. As I always explain, coming to terms with all of this caused great torment, and now I wished I had someone to at least discuss it with except the one good therapist I was fortunate to be placed with at the Veterans’ Administration in Dayton, Ohio. She was understanding and even had a basic understanding of the LGBTQ community, so I did not have to educate her at all. However, we did not ever get into the clash of my yin and yang genders. On the plus side of our therapy, she never tried to equate any of my bi-polar depression issues with my need to express my yin side of myself.

Ironically, I think my yang side was very active and expansive in pushing my yin into the world. He provided the life lessons I needed to get out and push my gender envelope by learning new things. Without him, the initial exploratory trips to the regular venues I established myself in as a novice transgender woman would have never happened. So many nights I sat in my car for what seemed like forever before I summoned my courage to go inside.

On the other hand, it was yang who did his best to ensure his male world would never be taken away and he made a strong, experienced adversary. The problem became was how I was ever going to join my yin and yang together and form hopefully a good transfeminine person. The answer was I never had to really give up all the life which yang brought to the table. It turned out, I still was able to follow my love of sports, all the way to keeping my sexuality when lesbians took over my life. Altogether the entire process of joining my yin and yang proved to be easier than I thought. I just needed the courage to do it.

It would be too easy to say all transgender women and transgender men suffer from yin and yang gender problems, but the idea may go along way towards explaining what we feel to an outsider. It is far out of my pay grade to predict what anyone may do when confronted with such complex gender problems a trans person has. In fact, when I go back to “Wikipedia”, it even mentions gender in this form:

“When pertaining to human gender, yin is associated to more rounded feminine characteristics and Yang as sharp and masculine traits”.

I don’t know about you, but the whole definition works for me, and I wonder why it has taken me so long to stumble upon it in my research. In some ways, yin and yang reinforces my idea that transgender people deserve a special place in the world. Not one of scorn and discrimination. Maybe the average person just needs to know more about us on a regular basis and not what they hear from politicians. But they can’t even govern well enough to keep our government open, so I can’t see much chance of that anytime soon.

Do "It" or Die

 

Image from Claudia Love
on UnSplash.  

I find it humorous when a gender bigot or some sort of other hater thinks transgender women or trans men had a choice when they decided to transition into the gender they should have always been.

The haters conveniently overlook the fact we trans people spend a lifetime of discontent over our gender dysphoria. In my case, the dysphoria invaded my already frail mental health and nearly destroyed it and me. I suffered from being born into the pre-internet “dark ages” where information on gender issues in particular was very hard to come by. It took years of my life before I was formally diagnosed with dysphoria and even worse, a bi-polar disorder.

It all started when I spent my days off work in bed, not wanting to move at all and forcing myself to work to keep my job. Of all people, the first real gender therapist I had diagnosed my problem when I brought it up in a conversation we were having. She ended up telling me she could prescribe medications for my depression but not for me wanting to be a woman. I should have listened to her and took more action than just cross dressing when she told me that. I was still stubborn though, and my male side thought he could conquer all. Setting up an internal war I would fight for years. I was fortunate when the prescribed medications worked with my depression but not so fortunate when they did absolutely nothing when it came to me wanting to be a woman. In other words, my gender therapist was right.

In the meantime, as my gender war raged on, I was out of my closet exploring the world to see if I could survive at all. As with any other novice, I had my good days and my bad days but something deep inside kept telling me to keep going because my survival was at risk. How much so, I still had not fully grasped.

As with anyone else, the years seemed to fly by and regardless of the unlikely idea I could ever achieve my dream of competing in and surviving in a transfeminine world successfully, I slowly was making it. Ironically, many times when I did make it, the trip up was not worth the trip down mentally. A prime example was the night I went to a cross dresser-transgender mixer on Long Island, New York and was forced to show proof I was actually a man before I was admitted to the mixer. Of course, I was on cloud nine for days after that before I crashed back down into my unwanted male world. I so badly wanted to take the next step in my transition but was afraid to do it which created extra pressure on me. Sadly, I took the pressure out on my second wife who I perceived as a problem when she did not understand what I wanted to do.

It turned out, I needed a ciswoman in my life to challenge me to do more than just look like a woman. She forced me into searching for the elusive lives’ ciswomen lead, and why they were so different than men. Still, I was stubborn and thought I had already put that research in until my path took me to a whole different gender world which I was never allowed to visit before. Until I tried and finally let in to see what my wife was talking about.

By this time, I was reaching the point in my life when all my explorations into womanhood were taking me as far as I could go. I was staring ahead at reaching my sixties and knew I was not getting any younger. It was time to try to be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT and take the next big step towards my dream life. If I did not, I may never have the chance to do it again. Plus, I was coming off the darkest moments in my life when everyone dear to me died (including my wife) and the only comfort I had was my inner feminine self. At that point, she showed me the reality of where I was in life.

As the pressure mounted to choose which direction my life would take at the age of sixty, I chose female and closed the book forever on my male self. At that point, I never looked back and took the pressure off myself. Finally, a wise move and somewhere I could hear my second wife saying I told you so. She did but I just did not listen. And, by the way, I still suffer from depression and from dysphoria but now I have learned to live with both of them by living the way I was born to be.

I did it before I died.

 

 

 

 

 

Gender "Muscle" Memory

 

Image from Jeremy Bishop
on UnSplash

Perhaps you have heard an elite athlete talk about having muscle memory when they play their sport. Especially professional baseball players who make a living off of hitting curve balls. Which has nothing to do with presenting as a transgender woman, or does it?

I remember the days when I was going through an unwanted male puberty, and I was so self-conscious of how I was walking as a man. I did not want to attract any bullies by thinking I was too effeminate. I must have been fairly successful because I rarely had any problems. I was just a boy who liked sports and cars and stayed under society’s bigotry radar.

Then, when I started to explore the feminine world, I needed to throw out all of my walk like a man training and start to mimic the distinctive walk of a woman the best I could. I took me a while to do it, but I finally came up with a transfeminine walk that did not look like a linebacker in drag. The problem became doing it enough to have it become muscle memory. Mainly because I was not doing it all the time. Spending a day as a transgender woman learning the world, then reverting back to being a man on a job which demanded control was literally mentally killing me. On the days I had to be a man, I felt as if I was in some sort of a gender fog as I could see and feel my dream of womanhood but could not quite achieve it.

What I did was try to practice my feminine muscle memory anytime I did not think anyone was watching. Big box stores later in the evening were my favorites because they were largely empty of other shoppers. Later I wonder if I made the store’s security cameras and they were amused by a man trying to walk like a woman. But, of course, I never found out because I was not doing anything wrong. At least I found out I was being a success as a novice woman when on a few occasions on my male days at work, I was referred to as a woman.

Finally, practice started to make a successful feminine presentation possible for me, and I started to relax when I was out of my closet and the mirror exploring the world. The only problem I ran into was when I became too comfortable and forgot what I was doing. Like the time I was walking through a mall not paying attention when one of my heels became stuck in a sidewalk crack and I twisted my ankle. Lesson learned as from then on, when I was wearing heels, to watch out for cracks in the sidewalks. Muscle memory the hard way.

Until I began to live my life increasingly more as a transgender woman was I able to put the image I always saw in the mirror into motion. The pretty pictures I was able to take of myself were one thing but surviving in the world of cisgender women was another. Every time I thought I had learned all I needed to know, something else came along to shock me into going farther. I was growing increasingly frustrated and again my fragile mental health was suffering. Until I found a good therapist to help me face my truth. I should never had attempted to assume the male role I was in and all of the muscle memory which came with it. All it solved was making my life more complex when I tried to change it and enter the feminine world for good.

Especially with the help of the gender affirming hormones I was approved to take, my confidence as a trans woman grew and any resistance to losing my old male muscle memory went away. I carved out a new life and even found away to be happy in it. I was similar to the very successful baseball player who is winning the world series as my outward motion fit my inward feminine feelings. Even the HRT hormones enabled me to develop my own hips I was so envious of on other women. Anything I could do to come closer to my dream was welcomed.

Having the gender muscle memory from so long ago is something I still think about to this day. Even though I am highly immobile. It was the way I could get started towards another huge step in my male to female gender transition.

 

Following the Gender Breadcrumbs

 

Image from Elena Moshvilo
on UnSplash.

Following the gender breadcrumbs in my life meant finding the brief moments of gender euphoria I experienced and running with them.

Even when the mirror provided me with euphoria with the rush I felt when I saw myself as a girl, the feelings seemed to be exceedingly short and frustrating. I had yet to figure out my longing for the feminine clothes I was wearing meant very little to me. What was more important was, could the cross-dressing process ever take me closer to my dream of living a transfeminine womanhood.

Along the way, there were times when the breadcrumbs almost disappeared totally, leaving me completely lost and back into my closet. In despair, as I looked around, I did find enough crumbs to keep me moving because I was slowly learning, failure was not an option. I could take many of the hard-earned lessons I learned in the male world, adapt them and use them in my new exciting feminine world. For example, I learned that even though men compete differently than women, there was an equally intense competition going on between the ciswomen in the world that men knew very little about. Way past just being concerned of another woman looked better than them.  Since I did not have to worry about that, it took one more problem away from me. I never thought I looked better than any cisgender woman and I was not that shallow anyway.

I had more important problems to worry about as I searched for breadcrumbs to guide me along the path, I was on to transgender womanhood. Afterall, I was seeking to accomplish one of the most difficult tasks a human attempt to do which is change one of the most basic needs a person has, and that is their gender. Starting all over and carving out a new life was daunting for me, and I needed all the help I could get. For some reason, I found myself with ciswomen who spread the gender breadcrumbs for me. I could sit back and observe how they conducted their lives, good and bad. From them, I could see not all was peaches and cream as a woman then decide if I still wanted to do it. Then structure my life the best I could. My biggest problem was throwing out and ignoring all the hard-earned male breadcrumbs I had accumulated. In fact, I had almost put together the entire loaf which I kept trying to break up and throw away.

The most positive aspect of my life became the nights I went out with my lesbian and transgender woman friends, and we actually enjoyed ourselves so much we began to do it more and more. My breadcrumbs became easier to follow because I was different to my friends. I was not quite a full-fledged ciswoman as they were, but on the other hand, I was far from being a man they stayed away from. I was certainly baking my new loaf as a transgender woman with the help of my inner self who had been with me all the way and was just waiting to be set free.  It seemed most all of my dark lonely nights were finally behind me again in life. This time, on the side of the gender border I so long had waited for to open.

Wherever you are on your gender path, I hope it is lit well enough for you to see your breadcrumbs and have enough gender euphoria to get you by until you face another learning experience. I know, at times, the entire experience will seem overwhelming and hopeless. But the light at the end of the tunnel does not have to be the train and again I point out what a difficult path you are trying to follow. Risking, spouses, families, friends and jobs are never easy and is intimidating to say the least.  That is why if took me till the age of sixty to take the leap of faith I always wanted to do…live as a woman on my own terms.

It is important to note, you are doing the search on your own terms and the nay-sayers who like to point out you will never be a ciswoman are right. You can’t, but you can reach a womanhood of your own making.

Best wishes to finding all of your breadcrumbs along your path, and reaching your dream.

 

 

 

Passing Through Customs

 

Image from CDC on UnSplash.

Passing through gender customs was one of the most difficult things I have ever done in my life. Relax, this is not another post where I slam the orange pedo/felon tearing down our country as I write...What I mean is, when the time and effort I took to finally blend in with all the ciswomen around became worth it.

 For the longest time, I thought passing customs just meant looking better than the average woman in the world. Then I discovered I needed to be better because I was a transgender woman. I could not get away with wearing no makeup and jeans like the other women around me if I was to pass their inspection. Don’t get me wrong, I did not have to wear heels and hose all the time to make it through customs, I just purchased jean skirts rather than jeans from my local thrift store and did very well with the new fashion I discovered. I was not wearing pants of any sort which I loved and still made it through customs wearing a skirt which flattered my legs.

Then I found wearing a simple skirt rather than pants was the easy part of customs. My first actual experience in passing a checkpoint as a trans woman came when a woman friend invited me to a NFL Football game in Cincinnati. In order to be admitted, I needed to be patted down by another woman who just smiled at me and then checked the extremely small purse I was carrying. She made it quick, smiled at me and let me on my way, terrified and all. By the time I began to breathe again it was game time, and I had other less scary distractions such as when and how I was going to use the women’s restroom. The whole evening really gave me confidence in my new self and how my future as a transgender woman could look.

Of course, I would be remiss if I did not bring up the most important point of all when I needed to actually talk and communicate with the other ciswomen who were inspecting me. The worst part was I was really shy and had put off any practice I could with my voice and eye contact. For the sake of repetition, I have always referred to the process of communication as being able to play in the girl’s sandbox. To make my life easier, I did my best to make sure there were as few girls as possible in the sandbox when I played in case something went wrong, and I needed to escape. Fortunately, I never did and was allowed to play.

For what they are worth, my words of wisdom are, when you start your journey in the world as a transfeminine person, always assume you will be going through customs of some sort. Women are always examined by other women from head to toe and by men also. So, get ready. It was a world which I was not used to because as a man, I rarely if ever, looked at what other men were wearing. On the other hand, women will notice what you are wearing if you can’t pass customs. Try not to be intimidated and enjoy the process as much as you can. It is what you signed up for.

It is also a positive if you can go through the process of having your legal gender markers changed. I had most of mine done years ago when I had not made the transition from transgender woman to trans woman senior citizen. I was more worried about being pulled over while I was driving and not having an ID which did not say female on it. Plus, not that it matters so much here in fascist Ohio, this year, the heavily manipulated legislature is trying to circumvent any gender markers on ID’s a person may have. Which means, as I understand it, in the future, I could be confronted and harassed by the authorities for simply using the restroom. Customs passing is getting harder and harder around here.

I read many posts and experiences from transgender women and men who are confronted when they have tried to pass customs, and it is not pleasant. In fact, it has led many to resort to measures such as genital realignment surgery to make them feel whole in their chosen gender. I myself, for various reasons, have not resorted to any surgeries, mainly because I am fortunate to have found many supportive allies over the years, I could surround myself with. More than anything else, they gave me courage when I needed to pass through gender customs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All that And More

 

JJ Hart

When I jumped from the cross-dressing world and I went into the public, I found myself in a situation where all that was more in my life.

Why? Because I was very naïve about how the two binary genders react to each other. In my relatively sheltered male life, naturally I had only experienced life from the male side only, and I was trying my best to make all I could out of it. To make matters even worse, I was so shy I could barely talk to girls at all. So, I never had any experience with them. No experience led to no confidence which sent me further into my shell.

I used my shell to protect myself the best I could and give the best impression I could that I was a so-called normal boy. For years, I fought the good male fight and internalized all of my feminine feelings. In the meantime, I was studying the girls and women around me, daydreaming of the day I could be just like them. My gender workbook was blank at the time, and I should have hung a sign on me saying “no experience necessary to survive.” In the meantime, I immersed myself in sports and cars and appeared to the outside world as a normal young male. There I go, using the “normal” word again, when I know now, there just isn’t such a thing.

It took me years of trying to break out of my shell or closet and tentatively go out into the world as a girl. I started at night by going to places I knew would be deserted but then again had big windows where I could still see my dim reflection. I was actually headed to a book/magazine store where I could hopefully navigate the books but never had the courage to do it and ended up going back home deeply disappointed in myself. Slowly, I resolved to do better but I never did make it into that particular store. Instead, I began to explore the world of women’s clothing stores where I found any number of helpful clerks who were more than willing to look past my gender, and into my available money.

After I realized that the women’s clothing stores were too easy on me and did not present a challenge, I began to branch out and try to look for more challenging venues. I came up with the plan to stop for lunch when I went out cross-dressed, just to see what would happen. I discovered that when I was dressed to blend in with the rest of the cisgender women around be, I was able to interact with the servers waiting on me. More importantly, I was beginning to realize, it was easier for me to talk one on one with another woman than it ever was when I was a man. It was a huge point in my life which ranked right up with realizing I was much more than a male wanting to wear feminine clothes on occasion. It would lead the way to me discovering I could live the transfeminine life I had always dreamed of.

In many ways, I was able to channel the pure fear I felt when I went out for the first time as my true authentic self and turn it into energy I used to further my communication skills with the public at large, and women in particular who seemed to be more receptive to me because I was in their world. Before I knew it, I was able to settle down and begin to enjoy my new life as a transgender woman. To be sure, I was different than most everyone else I encountered but I wanted desperately to make it a positive difference. Mainly because nearly everyone I met had never known another transgender woman or trans man in their life. I just had to make our meeting a special occasion which was all of that, and more.

In return, I was learning valuable lessons from the ciswomen I met. In ways they never realized, the women helped me discover the wonderful world of my own womanhood. In doing so, I was able to navigate the pitfalls of my male to female transition and always move on to higher ground.

When I did, I went on to discover the layers of life women live in during their lives which they hide from men. My life went from chasing a dream to living it as I discovered a transgender woman’s life was all that and more.

 

Growing Like a Weed

 

Image from Marya Volk 
on UnSplash.

I was devastated when I outgrew all my mom’s clothes and I had no sister’s closets to raid for clothes. Where would I ever be able to find the feminine accessories, I needed to cross dress in front of the mirror. So, I had to rely on a little luck and a whole lot of creativity to get by. For example, I found a discarded cute stretch mini skirt just outside of the girl’s locker room at school which fit me, and I had it for years. The rest of my “collection” came from being able to do work around the house, and a rural newspaper route I had delivering papers. My parents loved the fact that I was so industrious without ever knowing the real reason why.

As I continued my ascent towards unwanted puberty and testosterone poisoning, sadly I continued to grow like a weed, making it less probable I could find any clothes to fit me. Somehow, I did by being very creative with my meager funds and having the courage to sneak out of my grandma’s house to secretly go shopping for clothes and makeup. As I always point out, we lived out of town, and the only way I had to get around was by my bike, unless I spent the night at grandma’s. Who lived close to downtown where we lived. I survived the clerks in the stores I went to and slowly became better at what I bought.

Through it all, I thought I would outgrow this portion of my life when all I wanted was to be a girl. Like a weed, it kept on growing in me and refused to go away. I went through the usual phases of gender dysphoria many of us go through. The heights of euphoria when I crossed dressed, and the lows when I was not able to. The pressure on me continued to build up until I took chances and dressed in a locked room with my brother around. Certainly, if I was discovered, my parents would have treated me with enough weed killer at a psychiatrist appointment to do me in. My parents’ eldest son wanting to be a girl would not have been tolerated.

Either I was better in hiding my cross dressing from them, or they chose to ignore it, because nothing was ever said to me, and I dodged any trips to therapy where they knew nothing about gender dysphoria and would refer to me as being mentally ill.

The older I became, the more my weed sprouted and refused to go away. In fact, when the internet era began and we bought our first computer, it gave me the chance to research what sort of a weed I had. Very quickly I learned my early ideas were correct and I was much more than a weekend cross dresser who was more or less wanting to look like a ciswoman as some sort of a hobby. In fact, I was transgender which was a new term back in those days. For the first time in my life, I found a label which fit me. I was not a cross dresser at all, nor was I a fully-fledged transsexual who wanted to run off and have genital realignment surgery. Through the computer I was even able to meet others similar to me for the first time in my life.

At that point, I began to realize my weed was not a weed at all, it was turning out to be more of a late blooming flower which had to be explored and nurtured. As  I began to explore the new feminine world I was in, I discovered how complex ciswomen had it in their lives and what affected them. I can use my second wife as an example of how badly a woman could feel when her husband wants to run off and be a woman. Often without having the knowledge to do it. I felt sorry for my wife, and we fought often, but there was nothing I could do about my new flower in my life. It was not out of control as much as it was me and I refused to confront it. Long story short, she did not live long enough to experience the transfeminine person I had become and that was a shame because like it or not, she had a lot to do with the new feminine me.

Now I feel sorry for all those toxic men and ciswomen who can not seem to find their way out of their weed patch. Growing a beautiful new flower is the only way to go as you live your life as a transgender woman. Now I know why my old male self never liked flowers.

 

 

Not a Fetish...A Lifestyle

 

Image from UnSplash. 

I am still always amazed when a bigot or uneducated person thinks a transgender woman dresses as a woman as some sort of a fetish.

In my case, I realized the feminine clothes and makeup I was wearing were secondary to the real reason I was doing it. I wanted to be a woman, or as close as I could come to being one because I knew there were certain things I could never do such as give birth. As I progressed through the years, however, I found I could find my own path to womanhood and follow it. I would have no part of thinking I was involved in a fetish at all. I was different. Little did I know how different I would turn out to be.

Initially, I judged a ciswoman’s life from what I observed, since I was not allowed into experience more. When all you have is a one-sided view, all you get is a shallow result. All I could see was the pretty clothes, shoes and hair that the women around me had. Why did I have to be stuck in my same old shirt and tie when my cousins at Christmas got to wear their new velvet dresses, shiny black shoes, and creamy tights. I was always so disappointed when we left for the trip home, and I dreamed of the day I could be a woman.

For many reasons, I took my time getting to my dream world. It was almost fifty years later when my wife Liz and I took in a Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra Christmas concert, and I was the one who needed to come up with the most beautiful semi-formal gown I could to blend in with the other ciswomen and enjoy the evening, I did as I thrift shopped diligently until I came up with an attractive, sparkly gown in my size. Happily, I brought it home and it worked well as I blended right in. Without a fetish in sight.

The only time I had to deal with being a fetish object was when I first came out into the public out of my closet and tried online dating. At first, all was pretty quiet on the dating front until I began to try the “man seeking man” sites. Since I never kept my transgender status a secret, I began to be flooded with men who wanted to wear my used panties or just meet up in a motel room some place. I even had a couple of men who wanted me to dress them up as a woman. Naturally, I turned down all those requests and was stood up often when I required meeting a man in a public location of my choice. Even though I was intensely lonely, I knew I was more than a fetish object and had to be safe in the new world I was in.

The longer I followed this route, the more I knew I was headed towards a complete gender lifestyle change. My dream was more than a dream and it could be a reality if I tried hard enough to reach it. But first I needed to change who I was trying to reach in the world. When I started out, I thought men would be my focus. All the way to having one woman friend tell me to get a banana and practice. (I will let your imagination do the rest.) As I progressed though, I discovered the opposite was true, in order to make it in life, I needed to first be accepted in the world of ciswomen. Who made it a practice of looking me over from head to toe when I went out in the world. They taught me how to be better, because I was certainly not a fetish object to them. I was locked into a scary, exciting new transfeminine lifestyle.

When I became a regular in certain venues, it helped me jump the gap I was experiencing when someone just saw me for the first time and thought I was a man in a dress. When they saw me for the second time or more, they began to realize I was a lifestyle, no matter what I used to be. The world opened for me, as well as the ciswomen around me who taught me I did not need validation from a man to feel good about myself.

As day-to-day transgender women, we do face the improbable battle with trans porn in the world. Men think we are all like women they see in videos, and magazines. When the men find out we are not the fetish objects of their desire, some react violently. Trans women have enough threats to face without the extra problems of trans porn.

As soon as the government leaves us alone and realizes we are just living our lives, not as fetish objects, the world will be a better place to live. Our transgender reality is what we are fighting for.

 

 

 

When Gender Makes a Restroom Call

 

Women's Restroom 
from UnSplash,

Quite early when I began to leave my gender closet behind and navigate the public, it became evident that I would have to do something about how I was going to use the women’s restroom.

Initially, I had two problems and one benefit to deal with. The two problems I dealt with were the forms of liquid I was digesting, beer and coffee. Both of which did not want to stay in my body long, so I had to use the restroom more often than I normally would. The benefit I had was I had had many occasions to be in the women’s room as a man when I managed my restaurants. Sadly, I learned that ciswomen were not the fastidious gender I thought they were as I cleaned up many messes and tried to unclog stopped up toilets when there were trash receptacles nearby for sanitary products. So, I was prepared when I ran into a mess in a women’s room when I entered for the first time as a novice transgender woman.

On the other hand, I recognized the seriousness of entering a women’s only space and set out to be prepared. Naturally, I learned many lessons I added to those I already knew. Out of the many things I learned was I needed to flip totally the male idea that no one looks at another man at all in the restroom. Whereas, as much as I did not want to, I needed to smile and acknowledge other women in the restroom because that was the right thing to do. Little did I know, I was just getting started on learning the basics of survival in the women’s room.

I learned to look for an extra hook in the stall so I could hang my purse up properly and a secure lock to keep my all-important privacy secure. As you might remember, a poor abused lock let me down on a recent vacation to New England. Fortunately, I was just finishing my important business in a stall when I was rudely interrupted by a young girl who broke through the lock and surprised both of us. The disaster was averted since I was almost dressed and had pulled my leggings up. It was the only time something like that happened to me and it gave me the extra incentive to check the locks in the stalls I chose.

When I was younger and more insecure in the women’s restroom, I went to any extent to cover all my transgender bases. Of course, I always sat to pee, which I had seen cross dressers in the past not do, as they even left the toilet seat up. Then they wondered why they lost women’s room privileges. Which leads me to this point, cross dressers or not have to look before they sit on toilets. You can save yourself from bad situations by doing so. Also, when I was younger, just in case a prying woman asked, yes, I did have an extra feminine protection product for her to use. I was that paranoid of being discovered and losing my gender restroom privileges. I even tried to mimic a ciswoman’s urine flow to keep up.

Outside of having the courage to use the “room”, perhaps the second biggest act of courage is leaving the relative security of your stall and leaving. I had to remember that normally there was a line of women waiting to use the stall, so I had to move it along. That also meant ALWAYS washing my hands, quickly checking my hair and makeup and leaving. Hopefully safely without any negative feedback such as being called a pervert by a nasty woman one night. Thankfully, it was an isolated incident which happened years ago, and I have had no further repeats of such a negative experience.

Sadly, with many states coming up with more stringent anti-transgender restroom laws, we trans women and trans men also must become more adept in how we use the restroom. And I can’t imagine how bad it is for trans youth just trying to get by.

My words of wisdom are to look for restrooms which are uni-gender such as coffee shops and easy acceptance venues such as bookstores. Anyplace you can scout out the potential restroom you need to use. Then build your confidence from there. And one more thing (at least) make sure there is toilet paper in the stall you use because the next woman after you will wonder how you used it without paper.

Once you are confident of your transgender womanhood, other ciswomen will notice nothing is wrong with you. Which there isn’t. When your gender makes a restroom call, you are just doing what comes naturally.