Peeling Back my Gender Layers

 

JJ Hart with "Brutus Buckeye"
In the Ohio State Student
Union. 

Following the awakening I received from the numerous Halloween parties I went to “costumed” as my authentic feminine self, I needed to determine the complex path I would take so I could survive in the world.

What I ended up deciding on was a layered effect as I learned the ropes of the feminine universe I had only dreamed of living in. Like many of you, I started slowly with trips to my closet’s mirror, cross-dressed as what I thought was a pretty girl. In essence, the mirror provided me with my first layer to build from. Since putting on mom’s clothes was a relatively easy thing to do, I needed to concentrate on wearing her makeup which was not. No matter how hard I tried at applying makeup, I somehow ended up looking like a rodeo clown in drag. Adding this layer of expertise to my attempts to be pretty were intimidating before I started to see improvement.

Once I started to believe I had mastered the makeup arts part of my new life, I needed to add a new layer and set forth to do more about doing what I could to counteract the testosterone poisoning of my recent puberty. Since there was nothing, I could do about certain aspects of my body, I needed to do better in hiding them to the world when I started to leave the closet and explore. Those were the days of crash dieting and hunting through many thrift stores for just the right fashion item I could not live without. Mirror worship came back to help me during this layer of my life when I could honestly tell myself if an article of clothing really flattered me or not. I needed to get out of my teen cross-dressing fashion years and into a more realistic look I needed to blend in with ciswomen everywhere.

Blending in brought a whole new layer to my gender existence. To my relief, women had more of a tendency to embrace who I was becoming in their world, while cismen everywhere shunned me for leaving their club.  It all was an extension of my life as a man because I had never had much of a liking being around other men anyhow. I guess it all was a precursor to the person I was destined to become as a transgender woman. Probably, more than anything else, the Halloween parties I learned from helped me to be a success during this layer of my life when I was allowed to learn the basic differences between the two main binary genders. And landing squarely in the middle of both until I decided once and for all which direction my life would take. Should I take the easy way out and stay a very serious cross-dresser or follow my instincts and achieve my dream of living a transfeminine life.

To do so, I would have to add layer upon layer to my life by taking the old male building blocks I had used to get me by and use them as a foundation to build a better future. Little did I know what I was getting myself into as I was going past the princess-appearing layer of my life. For once, I was going to have to not listen to what my parents said about me when I approached any project I took on. To put it bluntly, they always told me I “half-assed” everything that I did just to get by. To advance through the gender layers that I wanted to, I knew I could not take the old approach to life I had always taken or I simply would not make it to my dream. It suddenly looked as if it was getting closer and closer to becoming a reality.

Before I just set all the male privileges I had learned aside, I needed to see what I was getting myself into. What would I really face as a fulltime trans woman if I ever decided to cross the gender border. I was selfish and wanted to see if I could peel back all the diverse patterns of life a ciswoman goes through before I went down her path. I was lucky in that all the right gender doors opened for me as I learned the ropes of being a woman in a supposed male dominated society. To do it, I needed to learn to leave the male domination behind me and learn a whole new society which existed for and about women. But I needed to earn my way in from all the gatekeepers in my way. I learned it was not going to be easy.

It did not help that initially I was so timid when I presented myself the keepers of the feminine world and it took me the “two C’s” to overcome it. The “two C’s” I speak of are courage and confidence. I needed the courage to think I was ready for my next gender layer and the confidence to do it. Somehow, I needed to get back out in society and prove myself all over again and carve out a totally new life as a trans woman for myself. I needed to keep reminding myself that yes, I was different, but what was wrong with that. I would never be a ciswoman but my socialization as a woman came from a whole different world you would not understand unless you lived it. Surprisingly, the gatekeepers let me in and I decided right then that HRT or gender affirming hormones should be in my future to provide a major kick forward in my transition femininization journey. I had done most of the hard work peeling back the layers I needed to learn if I wanted to do it and now it was time to take the easy hormonal way towards my future. I say easy because my body took to the hormones like what took you so long and all the changes seemed so natural.

The main thing I learned along my gender path was the number of layers I would have to peel back to achieve my goal. I knew going into it that nothing would be easy, but nothing prepared me for what I was about to face. Once I did face my reality that I was feminine all along, it was clear sailing to my dreams.

As always, thank you very much for reading along and I hope my experiences can help you along your gender paths. Comments are always appreciated.

 

A Halloween Political Decision

Image from Nice M Nshuti
on UnSplash

This is the second in my month-long series of Halloween decisions I made during and after the parties I went to.

This party took place in a wonderfully restored Victorian Mansion in my hometown where I worked as a radio disc jockey. Just to get an invitation was impressive to me as I struggled to come up with a “costume” to wear. Ironically, by this time in my life I had almost went full circle in my choices of what I was going to wear. I had long since gone from my slutty/trashy woman look all the way to a more moderate less clownish woman with my “costume.” I could still try to be sexy without going overboard as most ciswomen around me were doing on Halloween.

I finally decided to go full circle and see if I could wear something so authentic that the normal party person would not recognize me as a guy at all. I thought it would be the ultimate chance to test how far I had come as a transgender woman in the world on a low risk-high reward Halloween evening. Once again, my wife did not want to go with me, so I ended up with the news girl at the radio station as my companion for the evening.

I discovered I was off to a good start as my companion for the evening marveled at my “costume.” I chose to be a professional woman, just getting off from work and coming to the party to test my newfound freedom in the world. For at least one night.

When we arrived and found a parking place, I loved how my heels clicked up the sidewalk as my “date asked me how long I had practiced in the heels to wear them as well as I did. I just told her longer than it took me to shave my legs and apply my own makeup, so she left me alone after that. As far as asking any further questions about my skills dressing as a woman. Fortunately, it was a beautiful warm evening for Ohio in October, so I did not have to worry about any sort of jacket, sweater or coat as we made our way up to the mansion’s front door. The whole house was beautifully decorated for Halloween, complete with a vintage wooden coffin complete with a real skeleton.

I was met at the door by the hosts for the evening who like my “date” marveled at my male to female transformation. With the good start I was having, I immediately started to relax in my new surroundings and enjoy looking at the other costumed visitors. I was just about ignored as I did manage to blend in as a professional woman until later in the evening when a couple arrived and started to talk to us. It was just after a little bit of conversation that they told me, they did not recognize me as a man at all, and my “costume” had worked. My mind was shooting fireworks of joy when they told me that and it even went on to new heights when they even asked me to leave with them and go to a different party.

By this time, I had recognized the couple who were very active in politics and was on their way to Washington due to a recent election victory. So at least I knew who I was dealing with and if it had been just up to me, I would have said yes and went to the other party with them. But it was not just up to me since I had driven and I needed to get my “date” back home, so I had to sadly make a split-second decision and say no. Either way, I was very flattered by the offer and who knows what I would have encountered as my feminine self at the other party. We stayed on at the original party for a while had a couple more drinks and headed back to the house where I needed to reluctantly return to my old male life for what I thought was going to be another year. Always maintaining the “what if” ideas if I had continued with the politician and his wife, Maybe I could have gone to Washington also.

Another good thing that happened with the Halloween party I went to was, it was the first time that I ever thought/proved I could make it in the world as my true feminine self. Plus, I knew I could not wait another year for Halloween to roll around for me to live as a novice transgender woman again. If I had made it one night as a professional woman in the world, there was no reason I could not do it again. I just had to take matters into my own hands and do something about my gender dysphoria which was helping to wreck my mental health.

The evening was also more proof I had done the right thing for a change when it came to testing the strength of my male to female femininization project. I found I was coming along faster than I thought and I could never go back to living the totally male life I had before I tested the gender waters at the Halloween parties I went to as a cross-dresser. It was as if I had found a giant search light on my gender path and suddenly, my life made more sense. It was so much deeper than anything I thought it could be.

That is why not going out with the politician and his wife maybe cost me a chance at more fun and even enlightenment about who I really was. But on the other hand, I did the right thing by my wife and my date if she did not want to go early and end my evening. I felt better about it in the years to come. Even though, I wonder what would have happened if I had made the other decision. Most likely nothing and the memories are better than the actual experience.

Another reason Halloween will forever occupy a special place in my soul and there were several other evenings I will try to pass along before the actual holiday. Thanks for reading along and commenting!

 

  

The Season to Party as Your Feminine Self

JJ Hart
Cincinnati Witches Ball

It’s October, the season to party as your feminine self with no repercussions if you are lucky and have the chance.

In my case, Halloween parties that I gathered the courage to go to provided me with tons of valuable information I would use later in life. For example, I learned that just going to parties dressed as a trashy woman did not do me much good and when I went dressed to blend in with the other women around me, I was much better off.

My best Halloween evening ever happened to me when I was living in the New York City suburbs running a well-known fast-food chain restaurant and just happened to receive an invitation from one of my ciswoman assistant managers to a Halloween party that her and her friends were going to. Eagerly, I accepted and started to plan my “costume.” I immediately knew from my past Halloween adventures that I wanted to dress provocatively like many of the women do, while not going overboard and not appearing clownish. Since I already had the minidress, long wig and matching heels to go along with the dress, I knew what I was going to wear.

In all fairness to my second wife, she was not into Halloween and all the costumes that came with it, so she was alright with me going by myself although she highly disapproved of what I was wearing. As I was putting on my heels and makeup, she merely said be careful and out the door I went to a new adventure as I chased my feminine spirit.

Since I was relatively new to the area where I lived in New York, I had to navigate the streets in my truck as I wore my heels for the first time. I managed to do good and did not hit anything and anybody and made it to my manager’s house intact. Of course, I was beyond nervous as I found a place to park, adjusted my hair and makeup in my mirror and went up to her front door. When she opened the door, I was shocked and pleasantly surprised to see the friends of hers which were going to the party were all tall very attractive ciswomen with whom I could blend in with easily. When they saw me, they all grew silent until they realized I was not all I seemed to be. Out of pure luck, I had stumbled into a cross dressers dream of being around like-minded women for a Halloween Party.

From there, we wasted very little time leaving her house and heading the short distance up a couple of blocks to the neighborhood bar where the party was taking place. I was in heaven when I heard my heels clicking along with the other women as we walked the short distance to the venue. But it was just the beginning of a fantastic evening, I will never forget. It was like my first girls’ night out and I did not realize it.

It turned out, the venue we went to was smallish and dimly lit which was good for a novice, nervous cross-dresser like me out for a Halloween adventure. What I did not anticipate happening was being left alone by the other women I went with as they split up and began flirting with men they already knew. What I did was grab a seat at an unoccupied table so I could rest my feet. Somehow, I managed to go to the bar and order my own drink and head back to the table without attracting the attention of any of the other women I came with. However, I did attract the attention of an older cisman who sat down beside me at the table I was at.

I almost panicked when he offered to buy me another drink or wanted to know if I wanted to dance but I managed to say no to both since I had no idea if he knew I was not all I seemed to be and did not want to lead him on. At the same time I was flattered by all the attention I was getting, and my gender euphoria was soaring. I felt as if I belonged and fit in nicely in the venue I was in.

About that time, my new female acquaintances came looking for me telling me that they were leaving for home. All too quickly my Halloween dream evening ended, almost. On my way home, I drove past my restaurant and saw a stray car still in the parking lot. Ignoring for a second how I was dressed, I pulled through the parking lot and noticed one of my grill cooks in his car. By this time, I was emboldened by my earlier experiences in the evening and asked him if everything was alright. He said he was fine, and we ended up talking for a short time. During which he complimented me on the way that I looked and precisely about my legs.

Sadly, the glow of my evening was beginning to fade, and I needed to face the fact I had to return to reality and head back home. I walked away in my heels with new life/gender lessons I had learned for the first time. Primarily it is every woman for themselves when it comes to intermixing with men who maybe interested in you. Any loyalty fades quickly away. I also learned that under the right circumstances I could use the cover of Halloween to lip behind the gender curtain and see what was on the feminine side. Most importantly, I liked what I saw and wanted to experience more without having Halloween to help me.

When I returned to work the next day, I was interested to see the reaction from the rest of the crew and my boss over my “costume” the evening before. Overall, outside of a few knowing smiles from my boss and manager, life went on as normal with no questions asked so I was encouraged that my evening in heaven did not hurt my career, Halloween had given me the best of all possible gender worlds for at least one evening. I had to just figure out how I could have more without waiting another year.

 

Like the Bulb which Refused to Go Out

 

Image from Christian Dubovan
on UnSplash.
 

Years ago in another life, I bought a small corner tavern in an 1860’s era brick building in my hometown with a friend of mine.

My dad aptly called the bar the place flies did not have to stop when they flew through and I had to agree. But his criticism did not stop my friend and I from trying to make it the best tavern we could. When we were bored, we started to look around in all the saved junk that ancient bars accumulated and found a vintage, part wooden beer sign we could not wait to put up, even though that brand of beer did not exist anymore.

Amazingly, the sign had an ancient filament light bulb that still worked, so we used it and it kept on working for years. Later, I began to think of that bulb and how it could describe my gender conflicted life. No matter how hard I tried, my inner gender feminine light just would not go out. Not even a three-year stint away in the Army from the external expression of me being a cross-dresser could put it out. In addition, when I was honorably discharged, I found I needed to replace my inner gender bulbs with ones of a greater wattage to illuminate my dark, lonely closet.

Brighter bulbs helped to illuminate my feminine image in my closet mirror and helped me improve my makeup art as well as determine what clothes would be the right ones to wear. My new visions of myself helped me to speed up the cross-dressing experience and I just wanted to have more. That is when I began to take chances by going out into the malls and shopping centers close to my home. It did not make matters any easier as I learned how far I needed to go to successfully blend in with the ciswomen around me. Instead of displaying a small/dim bulb to succeed, to get to where I wanted to go, I needed a brighter bulb to display myself if I was ever going to make it as a successful transgender woman

At first, I was just using my light to interact with clerks and salespersons until I built up my confidence to do more. I was moving past my early days of Halloween exposure to the world as a trans woman and I was scared to death because for once I did not have the, “well I am wearing a costume” excuse to fall back on if I experienced any pushback for my cross-dressing in public. I was not up to no good, all I wanted was for my light to shine brightly in the new exciting world I was in. Unfortunately, in my early years, you might say I was a dimwit when my light bulb flickered and I thought it was going to go out. Those were the dark days of “purging” or getting rid of almost all of my feminine belongings and pledging to myself that I was going to turn the light off for good, put it all behind me and go back to where I was as a successful man.

As I said, those were the days of being a dimwit because deep down I knew I needed that feminine bulb to survive. No matter how dim it was at the time. Ironically, every time I “purged” I discovered very quickly I would need a much brighter bulb to sustain my life when I returned to my gender reality. Then I started to work hard to see what my new reflection in the world really was as a transfeminine person. I had to be constantly on my toes with my best behavior to do it as I was learning so much from every woman or the rare cisman I interacted with. It seemed as if I had to keep a constant supply of new bulbs handy every time I went out in the world. I always mention the stripping of all my male privileges as the main way which drastically dimmed my new light as a trans woman until I could replace the privileges with the whole new euphoria of being able to exist equally as myself in the girls ‘club I so desperately wanted admission into. It finally became evident to me; to be admitted, I had to find a bigger, better bulb to improve my overall presentation. So, I would never have to start all over again with my feminine life.

After years of experimentation and trying, I made it into the girls’ club where I always should have been in my life. And I put all those years of replacing bulbs behind me. Suddenly, my gender path became well lit like a large city street which I was able to navigate easily. With the help of powerful/magical HRT gender affirming hormones which helped me sync my external selves with my feminine inner self. I really became a whole person with all the gender benefits I had ever dreamed of. My emotions became clearer as I became more sensitive to the world. Among with the usual changes in hair on my head and breast size to my chest. Probably, most importantly, I was able to quit trying so hard with my makeup as my skin softened along my facial angles which made me more passable as a transgender woman. The world questioned me less, so I was able to change out fewer bulbs as I continued to play in the girls’ sandbox for the first time in my life.

The only regret I have is that it took me so long to follow my feminine destiny and live out my truth in life. I wasted too much time and money cross-dressing my life away changing gender bulbs until I got it right. I should have taken the time to write down somewhere the number of excuses I heard from my male self why I should ignore my truth and not try to live a life as a transgender woman. But I did not and the only thing I can fall back on is when my male life was good, it was very good and very bad when it was not. It is the only excuse I have to waste all those bulbs I did over the decades of gender experimentation I did to arrive at my destiny.

Hopefully, you can do the same. Thanks for reading and comments are always welcome!

 

 

 

 

How Difficult Could it Be?

 

JJ Hart

When I started my transgender journey, I was very naïve and I kept thinking how hard it could be to stay on my path.

All I saw was the good side of being feminine with all the girls around me in their pretty clothes and long hair when I was stuck in all the restrictive, boring male clothes and very short haircuts. To make matters even worse, I needed to make sure I kept all of my cross-dressing activities very hidden from the family and friends who would have ridiculed me and called me a sissy boy. The worst thing I could be called in my very male dominated family.

As I said, I was naïve and for years thought that all I wanted from being feminine was looking like a woman, so I obsessed about it night and day. Eventually, I did come closer to achieving my goal while all the ignoring harassing comments from my second wife who rarely wore any makeup at all. On the rare occasions she went out with me, she constantly thought I was going too far with my makeup and hair to the point of calling me the “Princess”. When all I was doing was trying to blend in with the ciswomen around me by overcoming my old male self.  Of course, I felt the criticism was not fair and the evening was ruined. Often before it even got started. From that point forward, the fights started because she did not like the trans woman I was becoming. And I did not understand why.

I think now that she thought I had not paid my dues as a woman yet to claim the socialization title and she was right. I was still stubborn and did not know how I ever was going to have the chance to play in the girls’ sandbox if I did not want it bad enough. I was stuck between two massive changes in my life which would either involve giving up the woman that I loved for one that I was learning to love. How hard life could be was becoming a reality for me like a boulder rolling down a cliff directly at me. It was quickly becoming unbearably hard when I discovered I could indeed see a path ahead of living my life as a transfeminine person.

What happened next was that I began to step away from my wife and essentially live the life she challenged me to live. That is to begin to socialize myself as a transgender woman in the world. I started to meet strangers as a trans woman who never knew me as a man and start all over in a new life. How hard could it be? It was and the whole process scared me to death. I was terrified of being stripped of all my old male privileges and having nowhere to turn if something negative happened to me. How would I be able to react to potentially negative situations in my new life. It turned out I did not have many potentially negative problems, and I was able to grow into my new feminine person with very few problems because most of the world did not care what gender I was. They were too wrapped up in their own worlds. Especially the cismen who were so afraid of their fragile sexuality that they left me alone. Which was fine by me, since I had always had a problem with making friends with other men when I was trying to be one anyhow.

Ciswomen, on the other hand, were much more willing to let me in their worlds and even show me around. Making it less hard to be one of them as I was learning daily how to fill out my life. I always had enjoyed being around women and found I even enjoyed it more when I was made a member in good standing of the girls’ club. Being in the club entitled me to use women’ only spaces such as restrooms which made my life so much easier also.

Most likely, I made some male to female transition issues more difficult than they should have been. Such as when I first came out into the world and thought everyone was looking at me, when they were not. I even went as far as to wear a favorite pair of sunglasses I had to see if anyone was staring at me without them knowing it. They were not, I was relieved and was able to go on with my new life. With new confidence I never had before. Maybe I could achieve my dream after all. It was a scary thought because then I had to start to think about what I was going do with all the excess male baggage I had built up over the years when I was trying my best to hide my true self by being a successful man.

The entire focus of my life changed as I began to consider the new and exciting reality of being able to live out my dream I had wanted since I was a child. I was sad when I could not tell the truth when an adult asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I could not say a woman and earn a quick trip to therapy by my parents. At the time, being a woman seemed as far away to me as being a lawyer or a doctor. But at the same time, a dream I really wanted to live.

Along the way, two things were evident to me. One of which was every time I achieved a goal on my path, another would appear for me to consider doing. And the second thing was, every time I began to doubt myself, I would start to feel natural about my journey and it would re-energize me, so I could move forward again. Forward was always good and made me feel better about my life which brings me back to my original point of how hard it could be to cross the gender border. Exceedingly difficult at times to be sure, but excitingly natural as I was doing it.

Wherever you are on your path to a better tomorrow, I hope you can discover your truth and make it in one piece. As always, thank you for reading and comments are always appreciated!

 

Buckle Up....It's the Transgender Law

 

Image from Milada Vigerova
on UnSplash.

As any of you transgender women or transgender men already know, it’s time for you to buckle up for a rough and bumpy ride along the way. To coin a term used in Ohio commercials, “Buckle up, It’s the Law”. To which I added, it is the transgender law.

It all begins early in life when we learn we have gender issues to work out of. Then we must go through the cruel reality which fully sends us into masculine bodies we wanted nothing to do with. Or the opposite for trans men. In my case, I had no need for all the muscles, angles and hair my body was adding, but there they were and I had to buckle up for a lifetime of sometimes unpleasant experiences.

Adding to the problems, many of will not survive puberty as femininized boys or masculine girls but at least the “tomboy” label can get girls by. When they want to play with the boys, which is frowned upon if you are a boy wanting to play with the girls. In my case, I remember Christmas when I wanted a baby doll and received a BB Gun instead. Hear I was stuck in a life I never wanted. I had to buckle down to change it more than anything else I ever wanted to do.

Not being a feminine boy worked wonders for me as a boy around the bullies at school but was a difficult pill to swallow during my early days of trying to look like a pretty girl in the mirror at home. Back then, I could have never imagined all the work I would have to put in to shake my male external image. It would be so much more than just learning to apply cosmetics correctly or finding a feminine wardrobe which would fit me.

What I started to do was take better care of my skin by using good moisteners I could sneak past my wife and then started a crash diet in which I used to buy better fitting clothes in the thrift stores I was haunting, looking for bargains. It worked because I began to be able to present more effectively in the shopping malls I was going to. Which I never thought I could earlier when I was laughed out of them. By then, society was changing or I was because the teen girls who used to harass me began to leave me alone. But only when I was able to femininize myself to the point of almost blending in with the rest of the ciswomen I encountered. I considered it step one to achieve if I was ever able to make it to my goal of being a functional transfeminine person. Or, I had to at least look the part the best I could. It turned out that was going to be the easy part for me and I had better buckle up for what was coming up ahead for me.

Step two it turned out was going to be the longest step I would have to take, as I finally entered the world as a trans woman and started working for my future. Following several false starts and in-advised adventures. By ill-advised, I mean the nights I was asked to leave several redneck venues I went to just to see if I could. I did not make it and got asked to leave, which I did with no incident as I continued to settle into a life I respected, and it respected me as I began to carve out a new existence. The only way I did make it through this step was to consider every failure as a learning experience to never try again. I was fortunate that several of my experiences turned out to be potentially dangerous situations that a ciswoman would know from experience to try to stay away from. Such as dark city streets late at night and huge cross-dresser toxic admirers in small hallways at a party I was at.

During stage two, it would have been certainly better to learn from what ciswomen told me than trying to find out for myself. It was all part of my effort to see if I really wanted to step aside from all the male privileges I had learned and start all over across the gender border to find out if the grass was greener on the feminine side. Which is what stage three would teach me, as I had to buckle up for the first time in my life for circumstances beyond my control such as death and dying around me. For some reason, I had always thought I would be the first to die because of the destructive lifestyle I was leading but I was very wrong.

Death and dying meant that my wife of twenty-five years along with four close friends all would pass away ahead of me with a short two-to-three-year span. Knocking me into a deep depression, and a battle with loneliness. I had gone from being a very shy person in my early life to being a very social one and I did not want to go back. But the problem was, I had never had an easy time making friends with other men as a man, how would I ever do it as a woman. The answer was quite easy when I began to live it. I found I naturally interacted with women much easier once I was playing in their sandbox, and I became very social again. Which in turn brought out more of my feminine self but first, I had to summon the courage to buckle up and put myself out into the world.

It all worked for me and took me to stage four in my life. The stage where all my challenges seemed to disappear temporally. Many times, life still caught up with me, and I had to do my best to stifle my old male urges. But them again there were still many parts of my male life I needed to bring with me. I could not live for half a century without doing so. I guess you could compare my stage four to a giant-sized kitchen mixer when I needed desperately to turn out a quality product.

It was certainly never easy to buckle down and live a radical new life as a transgender woman for me. It was especially difficult to do since I was very much an easy-going person and learning about a new life was an interesting experience. If I was going to give any advice, I would say expect a dose of the worst and embrace the doses of the other. One way or another buckle up for your new life.

 

 

 

A Gender Yo-Yo

 

Image from Eric Prusak
on UnSplash. 

I have felt most of my life like I was a gender yo-yo. One day I was a boy and the next day I was a girl was the way I was living, and it was no fun. The ups and downs were killing me as it did in the future as I tried many self-destructive attempts.  Luckily, they failed.

Of course, my male self-received all the benefits since he was given all the advantages as I was born male and could do nothing about it. He got all the accolades when he did something right at home while at the same time, my feminine self-needed to remain firmly hidden away. Which did nothing to relieve the yo-yo gender life I was living.

Then, there were the vivid dreams I was having where I was the pretty girl. Sadly, I had to wake up to no changes in my everyday male world of having to compete daily with the rest of the male world I was in. It never changed so I was stuck and I could not go live in the world of women where I always wanted to be.  The yo-yo never seemed to slow down as life went by me, but I can say I did l learn to adjust to its up and down rhythms. As I began to understand what gender euphoria meant to me and how long it would last once it was over. The answer was a maximum of four to five days before the depression of not being an active participant in my own transfeminine life would set in and I would have to get creative and do something before my gender yo-yo hit the floor.

To counteract my depression, I began to research the meager amount of information I could find on gender issues way back then. The only term I could find was gender dysphoria which was labeled as a mental illness. So, I rejected it. All I knew was I was confused still if I was totally a male or a female. If the term had been popular back, then I have used gender fluid for awhile to describe myself. At least it would have worked until I began to run out of male fluid altogether. Since I did not have the mental willpower to find my gender fluid leak, I concentrated on keeping track of my feminine side. As I became a regular at LGBTQ diverse parties close to where I lived. It was like going to one of those quick oil change places where I could rejuvenate my feminine self around like-minded others. From lesbians I learned shared an attraction with me to toxic cross-dresser admirers, I was able to experience and learn from them all.

On the negative side, like my yo-yo, what went up had to come down as far as my gender euphoria went. Not too long after going to the parties, I started to miss the experience and wanted to do it more. Which made me a spoiled brat when I lost my yo-yo completely and could not find it. I was learning how to live a new life where I fit in as a secure transgender woman, but I was not there yet. What all my research at the parties proved was I had just scraped the surface of where I wanted to go as a trans woman but still had not had the chance to research where I needed to go internally. The internal piece would be the hardest to do because I had learned so effectively to wall myself off from the outside world and ignore it. As I struggled to live a life as a man.

I finally had to listen to the world and discover my internal piece was the biggest part of my second wife saying I made a terrible woman. Because I did before I was in the unique position to remake myself. Maybe in many ways, I was a clueless person all together and that would have to change before I could ever move forward into a better world. I had the chance to take what I learned in a male world and build a solid female world was a chance I just had to take. I needed to take a new approach and put the imbedded emotions of my yo-yo aside. It helped me with all the ups and downs I was feeling specifically with my mental health. I finally had to face the truth about myself and freed me up to be me as I always say.

If the truth be known, I was never any good with my yo-yo anyhow. My male-equated hand-eye coordination stopped me from doing more. Maybe it was my fault because I was always so biased about being male at all. Through all the ups, downs and sideways, I knew I could not take it anymore. It was time to take a time out from him and learn what life would be like of I took the transgender plunge. Was I risking all that I had earned to live my dream or not. I thought I would be fine after all the research in the world I did but I needed to make sure. What I discovered was I did not care for good about the risks I was about to take. As I said, I had put that old yo-yo away for good.

Hopefully you have been able to put that yo-yo of yours away too. It is certainly no fun to do it. Thanks for reading and commenting.

 

When Life Hands You Panty Hose

 

Image from Garin Chadwick
on Unsplash.

As transgender women, we find when life hands us panty hose, we better wear them.

In my case at least, I had an early love of wearing hose after I was able to borrow my mom’s electric razor and shave the unwanted hair off my male legs. Which puberty had gifted me with when I was not looking. Ironically, if the truth is known, I was probably shaving my legs ahead of many of the girls in school I admired so much. I say that because if my mom had the daughter she always wanted, she would not have let me shave my legs and wear makeup as early as I did.

During my early love affair with Hose, I discovered how frail they could be as I ran many pairs of my mom’s collection which she never mentioned to me. Since I was earning a meager amount of weekly income from my paper route, I discovered buying panty hose was within my reach if I could just discover the size and shade which fit me the best. I could go to the corner small department store, gather my courage and be able to buy a new pair of panty hose and an item of cosmetics and still have a little left over to save for my next cross-dressing adventure.

Since I was buying my own supplies, I felt less guilty about searching for clothes in my mom’s wardrobe which still barely fit me as I had less chances of being caught. But the new problem I was having was where I could hide my growing collection of feminine belongings where my family would not find them. Especially, my slightly younger brother. I even resorted to storing my overflow in plastic bags in an old hollowed out tree I found in the woods next door to my house. It was far from ideal, but I managed to have my privacy one way or another.

As I lived my life, I was still in my victim phase of wondering why I was the only boy I knew who was going through all the contortions I was going through to be a girl. Why could not I be “normal” like the rest of my friends. When they were thrown panty hose, they would promptly drop them like some sort of a hot potato. I on the other hand still enjoyed the electric feel of the feel of the material on my legs and how good my legs looked in the mini-skirted fashion of the day. Since I was told I had great legs at Halloween parties I went to, it was the ideal time to show them off with a pair of panty hose that I had just bought at a neighborhood convenience store. By this time, I was a pro at knowing just what I was looking for and always buying it with no problems.

Thankfully, I finally exited my victim phase of life and started to embrace and accept who I was thanks to a lifetime of cross-dressing. Since the term transgender had not been invented yet. By this time, I was entering the 1980’s with mini-skirts coming back in fashion along with the big hair. I loved the fashion of the day almost a much as I loved the old hippie days, I was largely deprived of because of my time in the Army. It was fun when I could look out for and adjust what I was wearing as a transgender woman, so I would continue to blend in with the ciswomen around me. Evolving with the times also involved how I evolved as a transfeminine person because I had a lot of growing to do if I was ever going to make it to my dream.

I needed to go back and accept what I knew so long ago that much more than women’s clothes and makeup defined me as a person. I yearned to be the women I admired so much and had to figure out how to get there. Which involved more than the simplicity of being presented with panty hose and having the chance to wear them. What would I ever do about putting in the effort to live out a life, cross the gender border and successfully exist in the world with other ciswomen. I write extensively about the time it took me to peel back the layers I needed to cross on my gender journey to be allowed to be behind the gender curtain. Where I looked merely opened a few initial doors for me. An example was what happened when I observed I was the only woman in the room who was wearing hose at all. Somehow, fashion had come full circle in front of my eyes and every time I saw a woman wearing hose, I looked closer to see if she was a cross-dresser.

As far as I am concerned now, my hose wearing days are almost over along with most of the women I am around. Sadly, I am into leggings and jeans now more than anything else because I do not go anyplace other than casual venues where I would be out of place if I dressed up so I have come full circle in my life once again. Life handed me panty hose initially and I embraced them totally before I moved on later down my gender road. However, the one fun thing you can do as a woman is embrace certain fashion styles the best you can. You are still not tied to the old restrictive male fashion code which evened to start to change also. Men now are even allowed to wear pink shirts, so who know what is in store for future men’s fashion. On the runways it is not uncommon to see a male model wearing woman’s clothes. Maybe someday, cismen will grow out of their frail sexuality, and the world will change with them.

In the meantime, I will always remember my beginning of a life of a discovery as a transgender woman. Life did not throw me any lemons, but it did throw me panty hose in an egg-shaped package. Which I used as a springboard to move on from there. I managed to proceed through a lifetime of gender discovery I used to come close to my dream. From there, woman friends of mine helped to push me across the line I was dreaming of. I was so fortunate to have had them to help me to yet another electric sensation. The of living an everyday life as a trans woman.

Thanks for reading along and making comments! Your input is always welcome as it helps me grow.

 

 

The Right Place but the Wrong Time

 

Image from Alexey Demindov 
on UnSplash.

Perhaps you remember the Dr. John song “Right Place, Wrong Time” from 1973. In his classic style, he bemoans being in the right place at the wrong time in his life.

Sometimes I think the song could be the theme of my life. To start with, I was born against all odds, seeing as how my parents had suffered through three stillbirths before I came along and survived. I was in the right place to thrive in a family who loved me, but I was in the wrong place when my gender was determined to be male. Something I could do nothing about for many years.

Without knowing it, I was being set up for all sorts of embarrassing scenarios in life running from my gender truth. Examples came fast and furious during my initial days of trying to go public with my cross-dressing desires. Way before I acquired the knowledge to blend in with the world as a feminine person. Being in the wrong place it seemed was a regular occurrence. Both my male and female egos were suffering from be stared at, all the way to putting up with out and out laughter.

At the same time, I was feeling deep down that I was in the right place at the right time anytime I cross-dressed as a woman. I had not realized at that time that along I was a woman cross-dressing as a man. Which would have saved me a tremendous amount of heartbreak in my life. In the meantime, I needed to be content with just following my gender path the best I could, being aware of the many blind curves and stop signs I would run into. Such as the times when I was learning the proper etiquette that I needed to use the women’s restroom. For the most part, I did well with very little pushback except on rare occasions I remember to this day. The worst one that I always recall was the night a ciswoman followed me into the room and started calling me a pervert when all I was doing was trying to do my business in piece. Fortunately, she was the exception rather than the rule and I never had to go through anything so dramatic such as that again. Except for the time I was on a bus tour through the deep south with my wife Liz and we stopped at a rest stop on the Alabama border.

I thought everything was going to be fine until I was washing my hands and turned to face two women glaring at me. I quickly thought that I was certainly in the wrong place until I stepped around both of them and headed as fast as I could for the bus. I was certainly in the right place to take care of my business and at the wrong time with those two women.

The more I went out in the world as a transgender woman, naturally, the more chances I had to climb out on my gender limb and take chances to see how I felt about being there. Every time I did not fall, my confidence grew stronger to put myself in more challenging situations. In the retail world, I got myself out of the clothing stores where I was a non-entity and went to the world of bookstores and coffee shops to see how I was accepted. At the same time, as I always mention, I left the gay bars I was going to all the time and went to straight venues to see if I would find myself in the right spot at the right time. I was overjoyed when I ended up as an accepted regular at several venues I chose where I could enjoy everything from the music to the beer and my sports on big screen televisions.

I was never raised to be happy or satisfied with anything I ever did, so I was surprised at how satisfied my life was becoming when I followed the correct gender path to becoming a full-fledged transfeminine person. Casually living my new life, the same as any other ciswoman would do it. I even discovered that I had been in the right place at the right time with my sexuality as I fell into a group of women who accepted me totally and being with a man was never anything I ever had to consider.

The more I did as a trans woman, the more I never wanted to do again as a man, so I stopped because I began to feel so awkward on the rare occasions, I needed to re-enter the male world I used to be so good in. In fact, I just hated going back. Which was the time that I started to get it through my stubborn head that I was never destined to be a man at all and my right place was as a woman.

 Once I arrived firmly in my right place there was no turning back. Out went the old male clothes to thrift stores and in came the daily routine of what I was going to wear in the feminine life I always dreamed of. It had been a difficult gender journey complete with approving and disapproving people in the world but somehow, I always seemed to separate the haters and TERFS (Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminists)  out, learn from them and move on. Common sense finally prevailed as I chose the only lane I could and stayed in it. Many times, it was my own lack of confidence which stopped me from taking the steps I needed to survive.

As I said, being in the wrong place at the right time did not have to be the theme of my life unless I let it. Once I corrected a lifetime worth of errors, I was able to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and it was not the train. My train was still coming to take me to a transgender dream life I never imagined I could live.

Thanks to all of you who take your precious time to read and comment on mine. Without you, none of this would be worth it.