Connect the Dots

 Yesterday as the Cincinnati Bengals won their game and will head next to the Super Bowl, I will admit I did shed a tear or two of joy. Of course I was overjoyed at the hard fought win but even more I was overcome at the memories of the thirty three years which have gone by since the last trip to a Super Bowl by a Bengals team  As you can imagine, I have suffered more than my share of heartbreak when the Bengals found ways to lose I couldn't even think of and were even referred to as the "Bungles."

Photo JJ Hart

Being as perceptive as she is, my partner Liz asked me if my tears were because of the memories I had watching all the games I did as a guy. It was at that point I started to connect the dots and told her yes. 

In many ways, looking back at all the years of hiding my transgender feminine being from the world, I wonder how I made it. All those years of going to The Ohio State University football games, drinking enormous amounts of beer while I tried to out macho the other guy by smoking big cigars. One example comes to mind when I had to relieve myself of a large amount of the beer I had just drank by going to what can only be called as a high tech men only portable toilet. The unit only had a trough like device for about five guys to go at once. Or as many as could squeeze in. 

My dilemma quickly became my lack of enough hands. I had a plastic beer cup, a lit cigar and no hands to unzip and go. To solve the problem I pushed my way in holding my beer in my teeth along with my cigar and went ahead and peed. Either that moment was the most macho thing I did or at the least was the most imaginative thing I ever came up with. By now my mind was racing and I returned to the present.

As I cried though, all I could think of were all the wasted years I had doing my best to live a gender lie. How much worse could everything been if I had just followed my instincts and set out to live as my feminine natural self. 

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

On the other hand, if you believe in the cup being half empty or full, I was able to live a remarkable life as a guy. and have such wonderful things as my beloved daughter to show for it. Even my time in the military proved to be beneficial as I was able to see and live on three continents in three years followed up by living in several diverse areas of this country when I was honorably discharged. The cup was half empty when I chased after myself but full when I was able to add all the experiences I did.

When you are able to live as long as I have, you begin to realize connecting the dots only proves life is but a circle. Learning from the circle has been the difficult lesson for me.  

Sports and the "Big T."

 As football season winds down, for the first time in over three decades the Cincinnati Bengals are playing the Kansas City Chiefs for a chance to play in the Super Bowl. Kansas City is a tough talented team so they will be difficult to defeat

None of that hurts my enthusiasm. In my long life of 70 plus years, I have witnessed only two visits to the Super Bowl by the Bengals and both were heartbreaking defeats. On one occasion I even suffered a broken bone in my foot trying an ill advised leap during a touchdown run. I have written before how I had to make up a weak excuse for my boss why I worked the next several days on crutches.    

During todays' game you can bet I won't being trying any leaps. In fact with my testosterone levels so low and my estrogen so high, I'm definitely aren't so passionate anymore. I used to be so competitive I had a difficult time playing any sort of a game because I hated to lose. On the other hand, I am a better fan. I watch the games with more nuance. Maybe why there are so many more women these days who are sports fans.  

On another topic away from football, I received several great comments on my post "What's in a Name". The first is from Lisa :

"I completely understand. I went through several names before settling on Lisa, but it is a diminutive for Elizabeth, which is what I plan to use on my birth certificate, if I ever change it. I too have the grandkid issue, and have thought of putting my current first two initials as my middle name so they can use that. Not too different from your solution. "Great minds think alike!"

Thanks Lisa! And, another from Paula:

"It is a revelation to many that anyone can change their name, like you I went through a lot of names, more or less exotic. But when I realised that this was for keeps I went for the pragmatic answer, and the one that meant I didn't have to change my signature!

We grow up with the name our parents gave us and it becomes a part of our identity, so when we choose a new name we have to make sure it is one we are going to be happy taking as part of our identity. A while back my name was printed in a concert program as "Pauline" I was horrified as I though "No, I could never be a Pauline!"

As always thanks Paula! 

Finally GO BENGALS!!!!!

Party Down in "C-Bus"

 The city of Columbus  in Ohio is known often as "C-Bus."  I grew up and lived for years approximately a half hour away in Springfield, Ohio. 

One of the first places I used to go to attend transvestite or cross dresser mixers were in Columbus. It is a much larger city than Springfield plus it offered me a place to go where no one would recognize me. It was at several of those mixers I started to try to follow in the steps of the group's "A" listers. I didn't want to adopt their attitude in anyway. They were similar to the ego trips most likely seen in the cheerleaders where I went to high school. 

What I did value was the chance to go out with them after the mixers were over. I tagged along when they left most of the group at the mixer and went out to various gay and lesbian venues to party. Needless to say I learned a lot about attempting to go out in the world as a novice transvestite/cross dresser. 

As time went on, the group who staged the mixers went away and many of the "A" group who lived in the area began to meet at one of the members houses. If you are familiar with Columbus at all, the house was in a fully restored brick home in the German Village historic district. In other words, it was a great place to have a party. 

One of the benefits of tagging along with the "A" listers was my wife and I received an invite to the parties which normally happened about once a month. Since I worked in the restaurant business, Saturday nights off were difficult to come by and the rare ones I did get were cherished. As you can imagine, my wife wasn't totally on board with spending one of our rare Saturdays with a group of men in dresses. I had to mix in a powerful mixture of  persuasion mixed with pouting to get her to go. Normally me going by myself was out of the question. I wasn't trusted to be on my own in other words and she was right. 

Normally the parties featured a wonderful who's who of gender dysphoric people on a rapidly developing gender spectrum. Being transgender was still a new idea but being a transsexual wasn't. It was still during the time when transsexuals were expected to go through what then was known as sex change surgery then disappear into society. Never to be heard from again. In fact, the person who organized the parties identified as a transsexual. 

What fascinated me were the number of different individuals who attended. All the way from male admirers to transsexuals considering surgery to all the questioning people such as me. One night, a question I never considered was presented to me in a way I would have never considered.

Photo of model in mini skirt
 by Edward Howell on Unsplash

On the night in question, my wife and I had the usual fight over what I was wearing. My dress was just too short for her liking. I hate to say it but she was right and her point was proven dramatically. One admirer (or a man who admired cross dressers) was a big guy, around  six foot four and probably approximately two hundred sixty pounds. I wasn't a small person but he towered over me. 

What happened was he caught me in a hallway of the house in a position I couldn't get out of. I learned quickly how tables could be turned on women in an instant as I was trapped. About the time I was starting to panic and he was reaching for my thigh I looked up and saw my wife looking at me from down the hallway. It turned out she had let the lesson play out as far as she thought it needed to and then loudly cleared her throat. When the admirer heard it, he quickly backed off and as I said my lesson was learned. 

Of course, I had to hear about it all the way home. Partying down in "C-Bus" would never be the same again and I knew how quickly all women could be put in compromising situations they can't escape from.

Batgirl

From Rolling Stone:

 Ivory Aquino has been cast to portray Alysia Yeoh, the roommate and best friend of the titular superhero also known as Barbara Gordon, in upcoming HBO Max film Batgirl, as Variety reports.

Aquino’s character first appeared in a DC Batgirl issue by Gail Simone and artist Ardian Syaf in 2011. She will star opposite Leslie Grace’s Barbara Gordon. Both Aquino and Yeoh are transgender. This is the first time a live-action film adaptation of a DC Comics movie will feature an openly trans character.

In 2017, the Filipina actress portrayed transgender activist Cecilia Chung in the ABC miniseries, When We Rise.

What's in a Name?

 2016 it turns out was a big year as I progressed through my MtF gender transition. It was the year I completed my legal gender name change,  My process turned out to have a couple different layers of paper work I had to go through because I needed to include the Veterans Administration in the process. Which meant I needed the help of my VA therapist to do it. She provided the timely paperwork to insure certain medications crucial to my transition continued, especially my hormone replacement therapy needs. 

I vividly remember the day I was able to erase the "M" on my Ohio driver's license and replace it with a "F". Second only to the first time I needed the license to vote. The only legal document I have not gotten around to changing yet is my birth certificate which only fairly recently became legal to do here in Ohio. It's my fault for procrastinating because the whole process turned out to be fairly simple after the gender bigots quit fighting it.

Over the years, my feminine name has proven to present quite the challenge. Early in life I chose the name of girls who I admired such as the one who sat across from me in study hall. Not that is as important today, her name was Karen which of course is not the most popular name these days. Anyhow, Karen had a short lived time in my life because there always seemed to be another girl/woman I was to become enamored with and adopted her name. For awhile.

Just before I settled into a steady feminine persona as I entered the feminine world, the name game became a little crazy. In fact I would buy wigs to match a certain name. An example was Roxy was always a blond while Darcy was always a red head. After realizing I was defeating the chances to establish myself as one unique person in public, I settled into using Cyrsti as my name. It was pronounced the same as Kristi but was spelled different to reflect light going through a crystal. This was all well and good as I began to be able to exist in the woman's sandbox and the Cyrsti's Condo blog was born.

Cyrsti was destined to be part of my life for many years, in fact all the way to my early sixties when I came out to my daughter. Her only real concern after wondering why she was the last to know I was transgender to what was up with the name (she disliked it) and what would the three grandkids call me. Since I was close to choosing a legal name change anyhow, the time was right for a revision.

This time I decided to stay within the family history for my new name. I chose my maternal grandfather's first name (Jesse) and just spelled it different and added my Mom's first name as my middle name (Jeanne). That way the kids could just call me "JJ".

At that point, the biggest question was what would happen to the blog. Should I sacrifice all the years of posts and millions of hits I had and change the name? I decided not to and kept Cyrsti as sort of a "pen name" Just to confuse the issue more though I decided to use JJ Hart fairly recently when I began to publish on the Medium writers platform. 

In the future, my goal is to retain a professional to help me with my blog ideas. When I can afford it. Perhaps they could advise me on what to do with my pen name versus my legal name. In the meantime, I'm afraid my schizophrenic name use will continue. 

Pride in January?

 Pride month for the LGBT community should be a year around celebration.  Once you reach the certain point of your life when you are comfortable as your authentic gender self, it's time to celebrate yourself.  In other words the tipping point of having total confidence in yourself. Confidence of course was the topic of a recent blog post which Paula commented on:

" Confidence is key. It took me a while to inhabit the world confidently as a woman of mature years. We missed out on a lot of the learning process, we had to compress so much into such a short time. But now, I find that I have the confidence to do things I would not have before, because I am not just confident in my femininity, but in myself. " 

As always Paula,  thanks for the relevant comment.

Pride can be expressed in many different ways. You don't have to go watch garishly dressed drag queens strut around in heels to participate in Pride. 

You can dress in your favorite jeans or leggings depending on the season or you can be the occasional cross dresser in your local bar.  The important part is you are living your life as you feel natural doing.

I know also, many of you think you are impossibly stuck in your transgender/cross dresser closet and will never escape. There was a time when I felt that too. I was just able somehow escape the tragic situation I was in and sheer destiny led me out of my closet and into a feminine world. 

I will say though I had to work very hard to put myself in a position for destiny to find me. I searched high and low on dating sites looking for someone. Either male or female to spend social time with and was a miserable failure. My Pride comes from  from finally being persistent enough to find friends such as Kim and Nikki who I met in sports bar venues and had a great time. All the while I was learning valuable lessons on how to navigate a feminine world. Then there was Liz who responded to a online dating site, saying I had sad eyes.

Along the way, being a partier didn't hurt me when I did attend various Pride events as you can see in the second picture which was taken in a very busy gay venue in downtown Cincinnati several years ago. 

To make a long story/post short, have Pride in your journey. Even though it may consist of being able to exist in a very dark closet.

You deserve it.

 

Confidence

 I am always fond of sharing the idea of the importance of a transgender woman's confidence. In fact the argument can be made her confidence is her major accessory

Photo Courtesy Cyrsti Hart 

In all the years of studying how cis women carry themselves there always seemed to be a certain amount of women who just exuded more femininity than others and it had nothing to do with being more sexy.. Although it translated into just that.  

It's no secret either that humans are apex predators and will gather like sharks to any sign of blood in the water. Transgender women and men are often very fragile when traveling in public and the least small set back can cause the proverbial blood in the water. I know in my case confidence was difficult to come by in my early years in the world. Often I would experience a couple days of success and gain confidence in thinking I could navigate a feminine world only to experience a setback. When I did, often I would become depressed and think I never stood a chance to live as my authentic self. Ultimately I continued down my path and became successful. Finally achieving my goal of living full time as a transgender woman.  

Of course too, I was my own worse enemy along the way. Trying to dress like a teenage girl didn't help me at all as you can imagine. But even then I had to learn to accept what I chose to wear and try to make the most of it even though I was leaving the blood in the water by attracting unwanted attention. Finally I found and adopted a style I thought I could live with  and began to blend in successfully with other cis women.

Probably one of my most recent examples of confident transgender women came last week when my partner Liz and I joined two other transgender women for dinner. As we moved about the venue to our seats and when we left no one seemed to give us a second glance. Plus, through out dinner we engaged in what I called trans girl talk concerning acceptance by our families among other topics relating to our lives. 

Unfortunately, confidence is often difficult to achieve and the only way you can gain it is by living as your authentic self. I am true believer these days if you are near an urban area you can find an LGBT group to socialize with. Once you do, your chances to increase your trans confidence will rise and you can keep your blood out of the water.

Monday Inspiration

After three decades the Cincinnati Bengals are still in the hunt for a Super Bowl. In an exciting game in Nashville, the Bengals beat the Titans with a last second score. It all sets up a rematch with Kansas City next weekend in KC, Needless to say it has been very exciting for the whole town of Cincinnati. 

On the other end of the sports spectrum were the Green Bay Packers (Wisconsin)  who lost their game this weekend to the San Francisco "49ers". 

One of my favorite transgender women who I share photos of is Melonee Malone who is also from Wisconsin and a Packers fan. I always say she has transitioned really well. Here is her latest photo:

Photo Courtesy Melonee Malone

 

No Fun

 My partner Liz asked me the other day not to write anymore when it ceased to be fun. I'm sure anyone who has ever attempted to write a daily blog will tell you there are so many times when writing is the last thing I really wanted to do. Definitely not what I would call fun. So, you may ask why to I keep doing it. 

The easy answer is the great majority of days  I do enjoy writing, which I separate from fun. An example would be back in the day when I first started exploring wearing my Mom's clothes then began using my meager funds to buy select items of makeup and/or clothes on my own. It all was so exciting and fun but all too soon it wore off. Looking back at it now, it was the first milestone in my life when I should have known my gender issues were far from being just wanting to wear feminine clothes. I wish I had realized there was so much more to just looking like a girl...I wanted to be one. As the fun began to wane, a sense of satisfaction set in when I thought I had achieved a certain level of excellence when I adored myself in the mirror. 

As the years went by, I learned an even more important lesson. Not only did I enjoy the feminine world I was increasingly enjoying, the lesson was how natural the whole process felt.

Maybe writing is the same way. I started this blog hoping to help others dealing with their similar transgender issues. At the time, of course I had no idea that over ten years later I would still be writing as many times as I do. Along the way I have managed over 6000 posts and I wonder how I can come up with different things to write about. I enjoy blaming my friend Connie for the whole blogging adventure when we shared experiences with each other about our feminine lives on another transgender - cross dresser web site. I wish I could bring back a few of the exchanges she had with a few of the other participants who we ended up calling "trans-Nazi's"   They were the ones who felt they were better than you because they had more operations to prove their femininity. In today's world, they would be the bigots who want to point out they are more transgender than you. Many just for the reason they started to transition earlier than you did.

Maybe there was very little fun along the way because crossing the gender frontier is such a deadly serious journey. Often at stake are families, jobs and friends. Very few of us also are lucky get through the process unscathed.

Whatever the process has been for you, I hope you have managed have a little fun along the way. The same is true for my writing. Even though certain days it is not easy to write and I hope I don't recount the same experiences from my past very often. The problem is many of the happenings are tied together similar to a huge collage of my life.

Thanks for being along.
 

There is a World Out There.

Amazingly, my partner Liz got off of work at the right time. A time which gave us plenty of chance to get ready and actually could go to one of the cross dresser - transgender socials which have literally been scheduled for years. 

Photo Courtesy Cyrsti Hart 

I was surprised Liz wanted to go because  of the ongoing Covid threat and the fact the temperatures were in the teens (F). But she did, I jumped at the opportunity to get out of the house. Plus we have both been fully vaccinated and even had our boosters. So, I was excited! Two days in a row out of the house. 

After I found out I was going out, then I had to figure out what I was going to wear. I went with my normal fuzzy green scalloped sweater which extends down over my newly forming hips and in addition, is very warm. I wore the sweater with my black leggings and charcoal gray boots. After adding a light layer of eye makeup and lipstick, I brushed back and clipped my hair and was ready to go. 

Once we arrived, the "group" turned out to be just two other transgender women. Without being too blunt, the two women had social skills which was great.  Of course much of the conversation revolved around the coming out process and family Since most of my family (Liz) was there, it was easy to refer to her as being the main reason my MtF gender transition was as easy as it was. 

Along the way we also chatted about the influence our families had once we had come out. It turns out most all of us had lost a significant number of persons in our life (to death) and had a clean slate to start all over again. As Liz puts it, rarely does a human being have a chance at a "do over" so don't screw it up.  

Ironically, one of the other trans women who came has a transgender sister. It turned out also, all had accepting children  and the only person who had a parent who was still alive was accepting too. 

The nice thing about having a small group to me was the communication was better and I could even hear everyone at the table. 

It turned out also I ordered the Meatloaf not knowing the musical artist of the same name had passed away. Now I can eat a wonderful cold meatloaf sandwich in his honor.

Hopefully, it won't be as long again until we can get out of the house again as I enjoyed last night so much. Plus it was good to be around transgender women who all had positive stories. Perhaps the world out there is changing for the best. 

Sometimes it Works

 On exceedingly rare occasions when I get up in the morning and look in the mirror it screams woman. Most of the time though, the opposite is true. In fact what I think is not printable. 

Yesterday was one of those rare days when the mirror said, I was doing the right things in the gender department to live easily in a feminine world. Of course I was dubious because the mirror has lied so many times to me in the past.

Plus, recently I have been so secluded from the world. who would know anyhow?  Because he was vaccinated Liz's son had a mild case of the Covid virus and came out of it fine. So after he served his time in quarantine, he was finally free to buy another car. That's where I came in. Since he hadn't much knowledge in the car buying world, Liz wanted me to go with him. As much as I am far from being a used car expert, I'm not sure I wanted to go at all. 

To make a long story short, I went and with no pressure (ha) agreed with Liz's son the car would be OK to purchase. I also was pleasantly surprised when the gruff looking man who sold him the car was nice to me. Maybe the mirror didn't lie to me after all. Maybe I had reached gender nirvana and I could finally take the trans out of my trans woman description. I know what you are thinking and I agree. He was being nice because he wanted to sell the car. 

In the end run, it didn't matter. The car was purchased and I had escaped yet another gender meeting I preferred not to do unscathed. Someday I will learn men in that kind of situation have a tendency to ignore women anyhow. Unless they want something. I hate to think I would be taken advantage of though. Just because of my gender. Just one of the problems of losing male privileges'. Or don't try to "mansplain" to me why a car "works". 

 Whatever it was, the guy gave me a shy wave and a grin . I hope all he saw was a woman  accompanying her son on a car buying adventure.

Who knows? The guy at the car place got his money, Liz's son got his car and in a off the wall way I got my chance to again conquer the world as a woman. 

Maybe I should relax and take mansplaining as yet another step I have to negotiate the feminine world. On the other hand, the whole process infuriates me as it negates  much of my life's experiences. What would my mirror say? Very simply, this is what you asked for and worked so long to achieve. And, as I was told so long ago, there was so much more to a woman's life than being the "pretty pretty princess."

Sometimes a plan comes together and it does work. 

Spilled Estrogen and Health Care

 Along the way here in Cyrsti's Condo, I enjoy reading other experiences from other transgender women who share a similar age to me. Five (at least) are transgender veterans and it seems I am learning of more trans vets daily. By reading their comments, what the typical person doesn't realize I think is the wide range of care you can receive in various Veterans Administration Hospitals. 

Photo by Ehimetalor Akhere Unuabonao
on Unsplash

Also, trans persons in my age range (65-70 plus) go through being an educational experiment. Meaning, we are educating our medical providers about the needs of transgender patients. As it has turned out, I have been on both sides of becoming a self care provider.  I do think over the years, more and more medical professionals are being educated to us. When I look back at my experiences mostly at the Dayton, Ohio VA center, they have many residents from nearby universities following around my regular doctors. I always take it as a good sign when a young college aged professional has the opportunity to see a transgender woman such as me be cared for. 

Unfortunately I know all haven't been able to  have the same beneficial experiences. I know I am mostly speaking to the choir here but imagine if you have to fight through personal and or  religious discrimination to even receive quality transgender care such as hormone replacement therapy. Which studies have proven to be mentally helpful to the mental health of so many gender dysphoric individuals. Alternatives such as Equitas Health are proving to be life saving medical providers for the LGBTQ community if you are lucky enough to live near one of their offices in the Midwestern United States.

Now, let's go back to another major service the VA provides for transgender veterans...mental health care. Again, from the comments I receive, the care a vet receives varies widely from VA center to center. As I have previously written my original therapist at the VA has been with me all the way and has been completely sympathetic and proactive to my needs. Of course HRT meds come to mind but there was so much more such as providing paperwork to help with name and gender changes within and out of the system. 

Plus, even though I had to educate my initial endocrinologists, my current "Endo" is also a wonderful provider who monitors and takes care of my needs. 

Through all of this, I hoped I would be the rule, not the exception. But from many of the comments I receive I am afraid I am not. it is too late to cry over spilled estrogen when you are 72. Sure, such as many of you I wish I had worked my way out of cross dressing and into a transgender life much earlier than I did. It seemed my gender crystal ball was a bit cloudy and the life I so meticulously built and protected as a man was too good to give up. 

I hope your journey across the gender frontier has brought you to where you want to be. No matter the years it took you to get there and the experiences you had with your health care.

Sing Like a Bird?

 Over the years I have enjoyed hearing and watching several of my transgender and/or crossdressing acquaintances perform on stage. No matter how small the venue. Most recently before the pandemic hit the transgender - cross dresser support group my partner Liz and I are part of met to watch or perform karaoke.  A couple turned out to be amazing singers, able to look and sound the part of feminine participants.

Photo by Nikola Duza on Unsplash

Before karaoke and before I became bored with the whole drag queen scene, I used to go to the occasional drag show. In fact, Liz and I's first date was a drag show in a gay bar. Regardless of the entertainment, the date must have gone OK because we are still together  ten years later. As I wrote though, the overall scene was becoming boring to me as you can only see so many cis-gay guys attempt to mimic the same songs so often. Plus, perhaps the most important reason I was becoming bored was the further I went into living my life as a transgender woman, the less I wanted to be compared with the drag queens on the stage. The opposite was true only if the performer appeared to be impossibly feminine. Then I was envious.

Ironically, over the years, I only had the chance to participate in one "pageant". It was put on in Cleveland, Ohio by one of the earliest transvestite groups I was a member of. Since I was a seasoned radio disc jockey used to being in front of groups, I thought why not? Well, I learned quickly the "why not" was because I had no rhythm what so ever and could not financially come up with a proper pageant dress. The best I could hope for was the consolation prize I earned. My stage "career" as a transgender woman was over even though I had an acquaintance in Columbus, Ohio who tried for years to start a "all cross dressing girl band." I was so bad at mastering any kind of a musical instrument I had to turn her down.  The best that could have happened was a guest shot on the Jerry Springer Show 

I suppose I just am envious on several fronts. I know Connie is a musician and I know a couple others who are singers. I have met some rather large drag queens who could do some dramatic moves in impossibly high heels without losing their wigs. My daughter's hair solon is co owned by a gay man who can cross dress himself into a beautiful blond woman. Along the way I have been "ordered" to sing a karaoke song of my choice by a butch lesbian with a cowboy hat (another blog post.) And, maybe most notably missed out on a group of women strippers visiting a lesbian bar.

We only live once. Maybe I should relax and stop looking so hard for the next adventure. 

   

Another View

 The more I write about or feature other comments concerning attending sporting events as a transgender woman here on the blog, the more ideas I receive. Which is wonderful. The latest comes from Paula who puts together the Paula 's Place Blog:

Pride Photo Courtesy Paula

"Here in the UK the crowds at different sports have very different characters. ON Saturday I watched my old Rugby club win an important league game, I may have caused a little confusion but everyone was very accepting and friendly, 

I recently watched an professional American Football game at Wembley, this is a vast stadium, but was very far from full, there was a great atmosphere, and everyone was happy chatting to their neighbours (I was surprised how little time they actually spent playing football though). 

At a Cricket match I think much depends where you sit, I usually manage a seat in the clubhouse as my Brother is a member of our County Club. On the other hand there is no way on God's earth that you would get me to go to a pro football (soccer) game. The crowds there are tribally partisan, and within the game there are still major problems with racism and homophobia, I just wouldn't risk it."

Self admittedly, I am not very familiar with Cricket or even Rugby but I do know enough about the European brand of pro soccer to very much agree. In fact. a few of the major sports bars feature the matches when they happen to time up correctly. Regardless, I can understand your point. 

Way back in the day during my novice transgender trips into the world. I stood the chance of being harassed when I would go to watch the games. Mainly if I tried to use the women's rest room. Which I always did anyhow. Of course all of that began to change when I started to build up my own circle of women friends who were happy to watch the games with me. There is nothing as protective as a supportive group around you. I always point out too they were lesbians so there was very little outside interaction with men at all. It all taught me I didn't need male validation to confirm my femininity. I was able to build my own personality doing what I liked in a circle of women. Since I had always struggled to establish close bonds with other men anyhow as I was attempting to exist as a man, the entire process felt so natural and at times easy. 

Thank you Paula for the insight to sporting events in the UK. Yes it is true how little time a football team uses to actually play the game. After all they have to sell commercials.

If you are considering a gender change and you love sports, I would encourage you to do it. Just be aware of your surroundings and venue. An untimely police visit can ruin your evening. Been there, done it.

Togetherness and the Bat Girl

 Last night the Cincinnati Bengals did win their first professional football playoff win in 31 years. Predictably, it wasn't easy and not without it's controversy. If you watched the game and wondered what the "Who Dey" fuss was all about, as Connie did, "Who Dey" comes from the Cincinnati version of "Who Dey think is gonna beat those Bengals." With all due respect to the folks in New Orleans who use "Who Dat", it's our own special brand of cheering.

Along the way I have received several comments concerning my sports posts which in a way have surprised me since this is a blog about transgender women. I guess it shouldn't  because many transgender women resorted to sports early in their lives to fight their gender urges. Plus, as Jaron commented on Medium "Does sports bring people together?" I would say for the most part yes. Of course there are exceptions such as regional rivalries such as when The Ohio State Buckeyes play that state up north. It is in bad taste to even mention them if you are a true fan. 

Also I need to share Connie's post concerning one of her visit's to a professional baseball game in Seattle:

Photo Courtesy Connie Malone

 "Baseball games have to be the worst for the nervous trans woman. Three hours, sitting with the same people surrounding you, is about the same amount of time as for a football game. The difference is that baseball is so much slower, and it allows more time for people watching (people watching me is what I used to feel). Football games have a totally different vibe, and there's so much more action on the field that nobody is really paying much attention to the other fans. 

I did make the giant screen at a Mariners game once, though, when I snagged a foul ball in a not-so-lady-like fashion. The ball had bounced off the stairs, and it was coming right at me. A guy figured he could jump in front of me, but I pushed him off and grabbed the ball over the top of him. I was full of both pride and embarrassment for the next hour. At least, I didn't lose my wig in the process. lol"

I went to many many games over the years and never had the opportunity to try to catch a foul ball and when I started to go as a transgender woman the pattern continued. Plus, when I went (with one of my lesbian friends) she acted much more masculine than I was (naturally) so in the nearly empty stands, the Cincinnati Reds were terrible we had plenty of room to spread out. Protecting our beer was more important than catching a baseball anyhow. 

I am surprised the Mariners didn't make Connie an honorary "bat girl". No cheap shots! 

It's Playoff Time

 As I have written about previously, football is a big deal around here  Statewide people are fans of The Ohio State Buckeyes while here in Cincinnati, this year was a big year for the Cincinnati Bearcats who made it to the college football playoffs and the professional Cincinnati Bengals who have one of the youngest teams in this years NFL playoffs. 

Photo by Dave Adamson on Unsplash

All of this brings me to a long ago evening when I was invited as my authentic self to attend a NFL Monday Night Football game with friends. Even though I was shocked at the invitation, I hitched up my big girl panties and said yes. 

Of course saying yes was the easiest thing I could do. Then I had to figure out what I was going to wear and immediately what I was going to do about rest room usage. Keep in mind this all happened a couple decades ago when I was very much a novice at navigating the world as a transgender woman. I envisioned being called out at every turn for being a cross dresser. 

Back in those days also, I was still wearing wigs. I needed to take care to wear one wig which my hosts had seen me in the most. I chose one plus one of my Bengals jerseys. To be sure not so feminine but it would be worn under my jacket anyhow. 

All too soon, it was game time and we were making the hours drive to the game. Once we arrived and unsavory as it was, I decided to stop and use one of the parking lot portable toilets. Quickly I took care of business adjusted my wig and hoped for the best. 

My first test came as we approached the stadium and needed to be "checked in" by a security person before they took our tickets. For some reason, I was comforted when I was checked in by another woman. It helped when she smiled and told me she hoped I enjoyed the game because I was close to being in total panic mode. Somehow I maintained as we stopped for a adult beverage and made our way to our seats. As we sat down, the stadium was still filling up so I couldn't get a read on who was going to be sitting close to us. The last thing I needed was a redneck fan sitting next to or close to me . My impostor transgender syndrome was in full swing. I felt insecure enough when the television field camera seemed to stop and focus on me. Finally I managed to stop all the paranoia and enjoy the game. 

Sadly but predictably, my team lost and the person who invited me along won. So I had to put up with a little abuse but overall the game went off fine. I didn't get "clocked" as a man in women's clothes and outside of a few glances nothing happened. I even braved the long line to the women's room and again took care of business in a better environment than the portable toilet in the parking lot. 

The whole experience was totally amazing and I still remain in contact with the woman and her daughter who invited me. Even more amazing was the fact they accepted me so totally as my authentic self. 

I owe them so much more than I can ever say and you might ask how did I meet them. The daughter was a bartender in a sports bar venue I became a regular in as I started to explore the feminine world. She would eventually introduce me to her Mom. The rest as they say, is history. So the whole meetup was sheer destiny,  

You may also ask if I have ever been back to another game. The answer is no not football but yes I have been to professional baseball games. The biggest reason now is not because I am transgender, It is because of my increasingly poor mobility. I am starting the process to securing a handicap  placard and since Liz wants to go to her first The Ohio State Buckeye football game next year, maybe we will be able to do it.

In the meantime...GO Cincinnati Bengals!

Jury Duty and the "Big O"

 Overall I lead a very boring life. On occasion it seems I just sit around writing waiting for something remotely different to happen. This week  I hit the jackpot for all the right and wrong reasons. Plus, I am 72 and retired.  Now the wrong reason. 

Two days ago, my partner Liz's son tested positive for the Omicron Covid 19 virus. Even though he had been vaccinated twice. Because of his age (24) and vaccination history, we hope his recovery is swift and does not spread to Liz and I. Plus, both of us have been vaccinated twice plus have been boostered. Either way I am now in quarantine for a least five days.

Then out of nowhere came a jury duty summons. In my entire life I believe I have only been summoned twice and never was required to serve. The only problem I have with doing it now is how bad my lower back is now. Sitting in any chair for much more than a hour is torture. I have been considering applying for an Ohio handicapped permit but my pride/ego has stopped me from going ahead with the process. Clouding the problem now is I am being assigned a new primary provider (family doctor) at the Veterans Administration. So now I am required to complete the process with somebody new. 

Also I was lucky. I went on the court's website this morning and learned the county was cancelling most all of the lower level court cases due to the pandemic and my participation wasn't required, for now. For obvious reasons I need to point out my hesitation to serve was only due to physical reasons and had nothing to do with me being transgender. In fact, as regular reader Paula once wrote in a comment, being transgender is only a part of who we are. We are so much more and so complex.

Putting all the negatives aside, this is a huge week around the Cincinnati,Ohio area and beyond as the Cincinnati Bengals football team attempts to win its first NFL playoff game in thirty one years. I am proud to say, my friend Connie out in Seattle will be rooting for the Bengals. Back in my dim past when Cincinnati was actually in the Super Bowl I actually broke a small bone in my foot celebrating a touchdown return during the game. It was difficult explaining why I was on crutches the next day to my bosses. 

So, as you can tell, my week finally shaped up to at the least be a bit different.  

Sports Crazy

 Recently I wrote a post called "Baggage" which questioned my desire to bring my love of sports with me as I transitioned into my life as a full time transgender woman. To make a long story or post short I concluded I could because as I looked around I discovered many other cis women who follow sports. I was thrilled when I found several other women friends who I could share a game in a sports bar with, along with a beer (or two, or three...) 

Photo courtesy of Paula

I also received a couple of other comments from regular readers who shared their sporting experiences. The first is from Paula in the UK:

"My sporting passion is Rugby, I used to play before there was a women's game, so when I start pontificating about a game I often get the "what do you know about it anyway" attitude from guys. Sometimes I fail to resist the temptation to tell them I played in the front row for nearly 30 years!

I've only been to a couple of big games since transitioning, one of the joys is these are at least one of the rare occasions when I'm not the one queuing up for the loo!"

The second comes from Connie :

"I’ve not changed my lifestyle much, at all, since the onset of my transition. I enjoy sports, just as I always have, and I’m not ashamed of sharing my sports knowledge with anybody. There are plenty of women who know more than I do, so I don’t feel any less feminine for sharing what I know. I do, however, usually refrain from adding my war stories from playing high school football to the discussion (even if they might be perceived to be first-hand expertise on the subject at hand). I don’t enter into these discussions in a competitive way, as I might have done in the past. I’m so relieved that I’m not expected to prove myself on such matters these days.

Photo Courtesy Connie Malone

My wife had grown to enjoy sports over the years, and so we continue to watch football and baseball together. I’ve even enjoyed watching figure skating with her without feigning disinterest (as I used to do). I always get a little chuckle, recalling my official “coming out” to her:
My dysphoria had gotten the best of me, and I’d reached the point of finding my male life intolerable. I had locked myself in my basement office for two full days, and my wife had had enough of it. She left the house that Saturday morning, and, having heard her go out the door, I felt it safe to come out from hiding. The letter she’d left for me on the kitchen counter was an ultimatum, and I knew that I had to finally confront her. She knew what I had been doing (cross dressing), but she didn’t understand anything about it (I can tell you that explaining the X’s and O’s of football is easier than explaining the XX and XY of gender identity). So, I responded to her letter with a short note stating that I could only be completely honest with her, and that I had to do so as the woman she’d never seen or met. I then went about the business of cleaning myself up as preparation for her return home (she hadn’t taken the large suitcase, so I knew she’d be back before the weekend was over).

When my wife came home on Sunday afternoon, I was in the bathroom finishing my makeup. After she’d read my note, she asked me, through the door, if I was coming out of the bathroom soon. I said back that I would be out soon, and asked if it were OK that I did so in complete honesty. She answered, “Yes,” and then turned the TV on to watch the NFL playoff game. When I appeared to her, it was as if nothing was really different. I knew that she was playing it cool, and she wasn’t about to give me the satisfaction of receiving a big reaction to my big reveal. As I began to try to explain myself, she seemed to be distracted by the game on the TV. I finally said that I would just wait until half-time to try to talk to her, since the game seemed to be more interesting than what I had to say (a little passive-aggressive on both our parts). I then proceeded to prepare some nachos and a batch of Margaritas. By the time the second half of the game began, I’d made her understand that I had to live as a woman, and that I would never hide from her again. She made it clear to me that she was not a Lesbian. Then we both enjoyed the game together, just as we always had done before. I think that the Margaritas helped a lot, even if the second blender-full didn’t lead to a sexual encounter (as it might well have done in the past). :-)"

Thank you both for the enlightening comments! As I have written about in the past, and will in the future my very scary yet thrilling trip to a Monday night pro football game here in Cincinnati as a woman. Since enthusiasm is building to a fever pitch around here for the big Bengals/Raiders pro football Saturday, I have decided to save the post as we get closer to the game on Saturday.   

 

Therapy

Approximately every two weeks I have my scheduled appointment with my Veteran's Administration therapist. Over the years I have drastically changed my expectations of therapy.

Photo by Roman Kraft on Unsplash

Many years ago when I visited my first therapists I thought they would be some sort of a mind reader or on the other hand, I would be paying another person to talk about me for an hour. My very first visit to a therapist is difficult to remember.  It was so long ago in the 1980's. What I do recall is he seemingly refused to take me seriously about any desires I may have to dress or act in a feminine nature. The only thing I got from him were my first mind altering meds, without much explanation of why I was supposed to take them. Needless to say, it was one and done with him.

Several years later when my wife and I lived in Southeastern Ohio (near the Ohio River) I was compelled to seek out the services of another therapist. At the time I had learned of her from other attendees at several of the transvestite and/or crossdresser mixers I went to in Columbus, Ohio. An example of how rare the therapist was she was known as one of the only psychiatrists in the state who knew anything at all about gender issues. 

As it turned out, I decided to make an appointment for all the wrong reasons. At the time I was really dealing with my gender dysphoria and it was winning the battle. I bounced between extreme depression and euphoria. Of course the only way I thought I had to cope was to cross dress as a woman, ignore the deal I made with my wife not to be seen in public and go out anyway. Predictably I was eventually caught sneaking out and yet another bad fight broke out between us. So, getting caught motivated me to seek help and supposedly save our relationship.

The gender therapist's office as I wrote took me an hour to drive one way, was expensive but was very worth it. After I described my terrible mood swings and cross dressing she told me there was nothing she could do to change my desire to dress as a woman but there was something she could do about my mood. For the first time in my life I was diagnosed as being bi-polar. At least part of my life made sense and again I was prescribed medications that actually worked. Armed with this knowledge I felt better and headed home. 

Unfortunately, similar to so many other times in my life and even though my moods had evened out, I couldn't stay true to my word and kept leaving the house unattended. The gender therapist was right, she or no one could sway my increasing desire to discover a feminine lifestyle.

By now, many of you know my wife and I actually stayed together for twenty five years until her sudden death from a heart attack. Her passing tragically opened the doors wide open to attempt a final journey over the gender frontier.  

In order to do this, I chose the Veterans Administration health care system. In order to be accepted in the hormone replacement therapy program I had to be seen and approved by a therapist. The potential problem I saw was having my bi-polar status hurt the whole process. After all, being bi-polar didn't have anything to do with me being transgender but I was paranoid someone else may not think so.

At the time, I didn't know how fortunate I was to be assigned to the therapist I was. She understood both of my issues were separate and even had knowledge of the gender issues I was experiencing. No education on my end needed! 

The best part of the experience is we still meet after all these years.     

It's "Patch" Day

Twice a week I apply new synthetic estrogen patches which help me to match up my exterior with my feminine interior.

 Approximately eight years ago I started my transgender transition journey very seriously by being able to begin hormone replacement therapy. Even though I was still living part time in both binary genders. Specifically, I was attempting to balance my old life as a man with my new life as a woman. Needless to say the entire process was very difficult for me and led to many other problems. I was miserable. Deep down I knew the answer was I couldn't continue to live as a man any longer. Finally I faced reality and sought out medical help to start my hormonal journey.

As I write this post, or any others on HRT I urge anyone and everyone to seek medical advice to make sure you are healthy enough to do it. 

Of course I had many questions I attempted to have answered as I started my journey. I learned of a nearby doctor in Dayton, Ohio who would prescribe hormones, was accepting new patients and didn't require a therapists' approval. I made an appointment and nervously showed up in the office.

Very soon I had a prescription for the minimum dosages of Estradiol and Spironolactone which would inhibit my testosterone. As I remember, the only real advice the doctor had for me was I would grow breasts, my hair would grow on my head and my sex drive would go away. I accepted all of that and off I went to the pharmacy. I think now I was more nervous in the pharmacy than the doctors office. Especially after the one time the pharmacist made it a point to loudly point out did I know what taking Estradiol would do to my body. Regardless of her transphobic mini rant, at that point of time I didn't fully understand all of the changes which were coming.

The biggest change came when the Veteran's Administration announced it would begin helpomg veterans with their HRT needs. Since I am a veteran and use VA health, I researched what I had to do to qualify for the program. Even though I disagreed in principal, I had to go through a VA therapist to be initially approved. I was fortunate. My assigned therapist had a knowledge of  transgender issues and we are still together today. From that point forward I was able to purchase my meds through the VA and save money.

Since I was on a minimum dosage my changes were supposed to me minimum too. Except they weren't, for the most part. Very quickly it seemed I was developing very feminine breasts, my body hair was thinning and yes the hair on my head really started to grow. It was time to quit wearing all my old guy clothes and start my life as a fulltime transgender woman which I was so ready to do. Except it was still so scary. You know what is said about the unknown.

As I fast forward till today, my experience with HRT has been a magic carpet ride. Over the years, my world has developed into a much softer place. Sure my breats have developed too as well as my skin has softened. I am more emotional and have a tendency to cry even when I am happy.

Overall, it's been a fun journey I have been blessed to take. I used to think my bi-polar meds were the most important meds I take to maintain who I am. 

Now I think it's the Estradiol.

No Days Off

 Yesterday I took a rare day off from all my blogging activities. It was one of the few days I couldn't come up with anything to write about in the cluttered transgender universe which is my mind. Today as I retrieved and turned on the old lap top (I knock on wood every morning when it comes on.) and proceeded to come up with a new post. 

Cluttered Office=Cluttered Mind?

Writing for me is either a labor of love or a real chore. I compare the whole process to the early days when I was exploring the world as my true feminine self. Many days I would feel so confident and good. Other days, the process was not so seamless. It felt like everytime I turned around something was going wrong. An example was the day I was (in my mind) proudly negotiating a mall in my dress, heels and hose when I promptly stepped into a crack in the sidewalk. Needless to say I didn't feel very feminine as I almost fell and had to retrieve my shoe. Fortunately no one else seemed to notice and I learned another valuable lesson. Watch where I am going and not so much on the publics' reaction to me. 

Another discovery I made was learning I could never take a day off from the feminization process I was slowly but surely going through. Unfortunately, the whole process made me a very difficult person to live with or work for during what I called my "down" days when I couldn't cross dress as my true self. Between battling my bi-polar behavior and gender dysphoria, life was no fun. Still I kept going spurred on by working way to hard all the way to changing jobs and moving to different places. Another prime example was when my wife and I moved from one part of Ohio to metro NYC then back again, only to move to  a very rural area of Southeastern Ohio to open restaurants. I learned the hard way no amount of frenetic moving and changing could solve my basic problems. Plus, I won't even m mention the amount of heavy drinking I did to self medicate my problem.

Along the way, I always considered myself to be a competent but deeply flawed person. Looking back now I see taking any days off from my issues would be impossible until I "manned up" and faced them like a woman. Which is exactly what my wife told me to do. Instead I blundered ahead until I tried suicide. It turned out I even screwed that up and went to work the next day like nothing happened. Looking back of course, I am glad self harm didn't work for me. 

What did work was finally realizing my inner feminine self was the dominate portion of my being. Once I let her live was when I could relax, build a new life as a transgender woman and take a day off...from myself.  

Dreams

 I have been curious, as I add to the years I have lived as my authentic self , how long would/will it take for my dreams to switch over to being exclusively feminine in nature.  Right now nearly all of my dreams are from my male past.

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

I guess living nearly sixty years struggling to live in a male world completely imprinted my subconscious. As much as I dislike it, I seem to bypass the times I spent with my first wife (seven years) and current partner of ten years and go straight to my deceased wife of twenty five years. 

As much as I feel frustrated my dreams are still masculine in nature, obviously it seems there is nothing I can do to flip the switch and be feminine. Perhaps as time goes by and I compile more experiences as a transgender woman, all of this will change. 

I also know in the scope of life, dreams are less of a priority. Just getting by in the world is just more important. 

For example, today Liz and I have several errands to run including her getting a booster vaccine.  It would be a poor time to get harassed over living as my authentic gender. Since I will be wearing a mask, chances are slim. 

Speaking or writing about Liz, she is more of a believer in the power of dreams. So I asked her what she thought of my dreams. She said several things. The first suggestion was did I have specific dreams of being a guy or was I dreaming of being in a male environment. An example would be the time I spent in Army basic training. I rarely if ever dream of being back in basic, instead I dream of re-enlisting. Over and over again.

The second point she brought up was how early in life we become gender objects. In other words, the time our parents begin to make sure they pound us into gender stereotypes. Transgender women and men are unlucky enough to be round pegs pounded into square holes. This process can affect us for life. Including our dreams. 

Finally Liz said I could shape my dreams by training my mind before I went to sleep by thinking feminine thoughts. Of course, as she told me all of this, she couldn't help but tell me when I sleep with the television on (which I do) does me no good. She didn't think I had anything to worry about.

Now I can focus on the present, not the past.