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.

 

 

 

It Was Decision Time

 

Image from Malvestida 
on UnSplash.

I had many years in my life to make a crucial decision on which way I was going to lead my life. Continue in the male box I was put into by mistake at birth or continue the path I was taking into a fully feminine world.

I say many years because it took me approximately fifty years of cross-dressing in the mirror and then the world to figure out if I wanted to finally take the final steps, I needed to do to lead my dream life as a transgender woman. The funny thing about life is that now the half a century seemed to go by so fast, but when I was doing it, it was very slow.

Along the way, I had many of the usual suspects crop up I used as excuses as why I did not transition earlier. Such as, having a severe lack of information because I was born into the pre-internet era, or was I cross-dressing just because of the thrill of the clothes or the danger of getting caught. My whole life hung in the balance when I was doing my best to look like a pretty girl because if I was caught, I knew I would have a trip to a psychiatrist in my future who would say I was mentally ill. At such an early age I knew that what I was doing as my cross-dresser self-did not make me mentally ill. All I wanted to do was live a life among the girls I saw at school and put my male life behind me.

Before I could even consider living a fully feminine life such as a new term which I read about (transgender) on the internet, I would have a ton of living and researching my future to do. I was only seeing one side of a ciswoman’s existence which was the good side with all the pretty clothes and hair which was the external side. Before I could see what ciswomen had to do to get there, I would have a lot of living to do before I could ever be admitted to the girls’ club for good.

Undoubtably, the biggest mistake I made was not moving forward into my male to female femininization world faster than I did because femininization came from the inner self for me. Much more I found than the purely external femininization I thought that I was facing. So, I often miscalculated what I was doing as a novice transgender woman.  Among many other things, I had to outgrow what I call my teen girl cross-dressing years when all I wanted to do was wear my clothes too short or too tight for my testosterone poisoned body shape. Once I found how wrong that was, I could move forward into being able to blend in with the world of ciswomen my age.

As I left my teen cross-dressing years, I was able to expand my search for my true self even further. I made mental lists for myself on what I should try next in my feminine life. Or what could I do to see if I really wanted to give up the successful male life I was living. A life that was very good when it was good and terribly bad when I was suffering from my reoccurring gender dysphoria. It all made coming up with my final big decision such a hard one to make.

Still, I did not stop my constant research on whether I could make it as a transfeminine person. All it really did was add years on to my final decision, as I added layer upon layer of trans woman experiences to fall back on. Some were bad, but most were good which encouraged me to move on. Without the help often from anyone to guide me, I went the “Trial and Error” route as I hoped my errors in a women’s world would not be too embarrassing. I was successful more times than not because I let the other ciswomen in my world take the lead, and I could sit back and learn from them. It was quite the change from my old male self who was trained to always take the lead.

I can call it what I want, but destiny finally came along and opened my gender changing doors for me. I was able to be approved by a doctor and a therapist for HRT or gender affirming hormones. Which was the final nail in the coffin for my old male self who was on his last legs anyhow. I was all alone after my second wife passed away, so I did not have to explain my gender differences to anyone else for a change. I even set out to prove I was not wrong in my choices when I tried and failed to date women as a man again and I even tried to date cismen as a trans woman to determine once and for all my sexuality as a person. I was firmly in the female camp and was encouraged by all the extra attention I was receiving from women and even lesbians as I changed my life.

I ended up giving my male self-more chances than he deserved which wasted more precious years of my life. But I was able to overcome my timely errors by meeting my wife Liz online. Fourteen years later we are still together and hopefully even though she did not get the rest of me, she got the best of me. Because of Liz, it was easier for me to make my final decision to transition out of my male life forever.

I was able to overcome the wasted male years of my life as I pondered if I could live my dream. I just have always wanted the time back, which of course is impossible. Having the chance to survive a life as a “Yo-Yo” gender has provided me the chance to live out a positive life. Once I decided to go all out and live it. I should have realized years ago when it was decision time when it came to my gender.

 

 

 

What Goes Up Must Come Down

 

Image form Vicky Hladynet
on UnSplash. 

Gender euphoria for me has been a double-edged sword.

The sharp edge of the blade has been the powerful elixir I gained from when I was successful in my early attempts to cross-dress successfully and enter the world. I was well aware of the feelings from my initial view of myself as a perceived pretty girl in my home mirror. Well before I had the courage to leave the house.

On the other hand, the dull side of the blade was the quick coming down I needed to go through after my successful journeys into the world of ciswomen and cismen. But I found early that the women were the ones I needed to concentrate on because they were curious about me. Ciswomen were the most likely to pick me out of a crowd and notice that I was not all that I seemed to be.

To combat my severe ups and downs, I needed to set up and stay on a steady diet of cross-dressing activities. To do my best to always have the joy of gender euphoria to get me by the worst of my gender dysphoric issues. Often, my rhythmic cross-dressing adventures were the only thing which kept me going in life when I became so depressed with a fatalistic “Why me” mentality.

As I learned later in life from one of my therapists, I was a bi-polar depressive which added to my problems of feeling down. When I was down, I was really down and had to force myself out of bed for days at a time. When I got the professional opinion about my depression issues, I was relieved because it was one less thing I could blame on my gender issues. Then I could concentrate on my sword again along with its ups and downs. What I did was expand my ups by doing more when I was out in the world exploring to see if I really was a transgender woman or a serious cross-dresser or what.

When I was out at the bigger shopping venues in nearby Columbus, Ohio, I learned I could be accepted as just another well-dressed feminine shopper looking for gifts from the specialty stores, I went to. Perhaps because I was trying to soothe part of my guilt of not telling my second wife what I was doing, I always tried to buy a little gift for her from one of the big gardening stores I knew about and visited. She was a very dedicated gardener and for a change I could make her happy. Along with me at the same time. At least I was trying to do something positive with my gender euphoria before I started to go home and crash back into my old unwanted male life.

Sadly, after I crashed, I wanted more of my feminine world and when I did not get it I tried to internalize my feelings which only made my life worse. Since I was suffering, I was selfish and wanted everyone around me to suffer too. It got so bad that I nearly lost jobs over my attitude and probably should have lost my marriage too, if my wife was not so strong. That also had its good and bad points. The good was that when we were good, we were very good and when we were bad because of my gender dysphoria, we were very bad. Mainly because my wife had everything as a woman that I envied and I resented her for it. The worst part was she should not have had to suffer along with me on my path of severe ups and downs because I was incapable of explaining either the ups or the downs of my life when I had them. One thing was for sure; the worst move I ever made was internalizing my feelings from my second wife.

To help my ups, I continued a serious program to learn if I really wanted to risk my life as I knew it to live a transfeminine life. How could I risk all that I had built up as a man for such a selfish move which would have far reaching effects past just me. Including my marriage, my family and my employment which were all doing well except for my marriage. I felt as if I was on a run-away train on a dead-end track with my life if I ever faced my truth about who I really was.

At the same time, my downs just had to be worth all the ups I was experiencing. My gender tipping point was rapidly reaching the critical point of no return as I was increasingly carving out a new and exciting life as a trans woman. My confidence was staying at an all-time high and suddenly my dreams might be able to become a reality. The only downs I was experiencing happened when my wife was still alive and I was feeling like I cheated on her with myself every time I snuck out into the world as the new me. I think deep down, I knew our relationship was not going to be sustainable, but I never thought it would be because she would die ahead of me. Naturally, her death hit me hard and at the age of fifty-five I was going back to my drawing board. This time to do much more than re-work how I looked as a woman. Now I needed to determine how I wanted to live out the remainder of my life.

Even with the obvious answer staring me in the face, I managed to still ignore my reality and stumble forward with one foot firmly planted in each of the binary genders. Finally, my male foot began to slip, and I quit fighting the obvious. I was never meant to be a man at all, and I was a woman living a lie and living like a man. When I did, almost all my depression went away, and I was free to live the life I was always destined to live.

As always, thank you for reading along with my lifetime of gender experience. I hope I can help you and comments are appreciated!