Monumental Women

 Of course I am biased but I feel the journey we transgender women go through to live as our authentic selves is epic. Just take a moment and consider the struggles we go through. Such as discrimination in employment, medical care and education just to name a few. 

On this Transgender Day of Visibility I have chosen a wonderful friend I had the pleasure of meeting when she first stepped out of the closet into the world. 

After I share a couple of her life's peaks and valleys since then , I hope you understand why I have given her the title of "Monumental Woman.: It wasn't so long ago I wrote about her and her wife visiting a less than liberal restaurant and essentially getting stared at and gossiped about. 

Her name is "Venessa" who you can see to the left and it is important to note the title really has nothing to do with size. 

Similar to so many of us, Venessa struggles with being a large person which she has had to overcome when it comes to going out with her wife and/or kids, What makes the situation worse is she lives in a less than liberal county just east of Cincinnati.

I also need to mention she transitioned on the job in a very male dominated profession of truck driving. So as you can tell Venessa has gone through a lot to claim her very honorary title of "Monumental Woman." 

As with most of us too, I am sure Venessa would say she still has a way to go with her transition. Or better yet, the world does. Until her wife and her can go out and enjoy a fun, peaceful brunch without being stared at.

I hope all of you can follow her lead and become "Monumental Women" in your own right. And thanks to Connie for initially giving me the term.

As far as I am concerned, I am helping to publicize the transgender - cross dresser support group at the TDOV event in downtown Cincinnati. Maybe some day in my own way I can earn a "Monumental Woman" award.

Another Look

 Recently I wrote a post concerning the rash of anti transgender bills around the country. Especially Florida's so called "Don't Say Gay" legislation. Through out the post I didn't even mention the backlash against transgender athletes. The cases in so many states against the athletes are so ridiculous because the legislation is started and backed by politicians who have never met a transgender person in their lives. Plus, even rarer is the person who has gone through, or is going through hormone replacement therapy and knows the drastic changes HRT can cause to the body. I know in my case, subtracting the testosterone and adding synthetic estrogen has had a dramatic effect on my strength and muscle mass.

Lia Thomas. Trans swimmer

I never was a completive swimmer but I can only imagine the differences hormone replacement therapy would have on my overall performance.  Of course none of that seems to matter to the gender bigots who are fighting to keep transgender athletes from competing. Where it all will end is anyone's guess. 

As it turned out, trans athletes weren't the only part of the equation I missed. Here is Connie's take on the subject: 

"Those of us who belong to the genus, Transasaurus Wrecks, are not given much attention these days. Other than bathroom bills that usually fail to become law, there are not many of these legislations that pertain directly to us. Of course, this doesn't mean that we are not affected by what is trying to be done to young trans people.

For a while, after hearing stories of young trans people who are comfortable in declaring their gender identity and who have accepting parents and schools, I was so envious and happy for them. I couldn't have even thought of being able to do that at their age. However, despite the pain of growing up thinking I was some kind of freak, I don't know that I could have lived with having such freedom, only to have it then taken away (or even having to live with the threat of it being taken away). In fact, even at my advanced age, I know that I would end my life, rather than have to go back to living a male existence. Long-term care facilities scare the hell out of me. I suppose I might do as my mother did over the last year of her life, rationing morphine so that she had a stockpile large enough to kill an elephant. She didn't want to go to a nursing home to die, either, although not exactly for all the same reasons as I do.

Along with what you said about the cat out of the bag, the same applies to us individually as it does for us as a community."

Thanks for the comment!  As you regular readers know, I also am scared to death of being forced into an unforgiving gender situation in a nursing home. Being placed in a situation of going back to living as a male may drive me to a morphine solution also. 

In the meantime, I have a lot of living to do and this week which contains the "Transgender Day of Visibility" means a lot to me. Tomorrow I am one of a very few volunteers to help my Transgender - Crossdresser support group during the formal observance. It's my chance to be visible and take another look at the trans community around me.

Journey to Where?

 Just when I think the transgender community is making strides forward, there comes a giant step back. 

Photo Courtesy Google

This time it is Florida trying to out do Texas (as well as a few other states I won't mention) as the most anti LGBTQ state in the union. By now I'm sure you have heard Republikkan governor DeSantis of  Florida signed the "Don't Say Gay" bill yesterday. In essence, the bill tries to restrict schools from teaching any sort of LGBT material at all. 

It's sad the number of bills being introduced around the country which will eventually try to inhibit our right as transgender women and men to exist at all. Obviously a very un-American idea.

It's also tragic the number of all transgender or gay/lesbian people this will drive back into their closets. Growing up with any sort of gender or sexuality disorder is difficult to begin with. Being in a dark closet makes it worse. 

The only positives I see are the various pro LGBT organizations which exist on a national level which are powerful enough to fight these bigoted bills in court. Once the transgender cat is out of the bag, one way or another it will be difficult to force it back in.  

It's also difficult for me to write about what's left of the political system. Somehow over the years we have let the educational system decline to the point of just "dumbing down" large portions of society. Then, some are influenced by out right lies by a major news network I won't bother mentioning. 

This Thursday is the "International Transgender Day of Visibility." I will be writing in depth on what I will be doing to be extra visible. I know also so many of you are still in your closets and are unable to get out and be seen. 

In the meantime as I will mention again and again it is so important to know who you are voting for. Even it's just for a school board seat. It's going to take a grass roots effort on our part to maintain any gains we have made.

By doing so we can tell the world not only is it OK to say Gay, it's also OK to say transgender. 

It will make our journey to where, a successful one. Where you can lead a safe life.  

A Piece of Clay

Through out life there is the argument of nurturing versus nature being the major influences on how we develop as human beings. In other words, an example could be which parent did you more closely identify with and did that decision have an impact on your gender decisions later in life. So many of us in my age range grew up with distant fathers whose generation leaned towards more of a provider roll, versus an emotional one. For example, my Dad was always a wonderful provider but emotionally distant. 

My Dad was also very much a self made man rising from the depths of the depression,  serving in WWII all the way to retiring as a bank vice president. What does this have to do with nurturing as a parent, he just wasn't able to embrace that part of parenthood which left my Mom to do it. Perhaps at that point I became more interested in how she applied her makeup and presented herself to the world rather than being allowed to tag along with my Dad as he built his own house. 

All of those reasons sound like an oversimplification to me. I'm sure my slightly younger brother as well as the rest of the neighborhood boys one way or another were raised the same way and didn't turn out to be transgender, or at the least have gender issues. 

My First Girls Night Out, I'm on the top left.

On the other hand, our highly unique lives have given us a chance to see both sides of the binary gender spectrum. As difficult as it was to carve out a fairly successful life as a pretend man, in many ways it was terrifying to make the transition to live full time in a feminine world. The more I did, the more I learned I had so far to go. Partly because I felt men were basically much more simple to figure out than women. Men dealt in power systems built on job successes all the way to athletic ones while women dealt with complexities in life revolving from personal relationships all the way to family issues. As I was invited along to my first "girls nights out" I truly discovered how the genders operate on different ever changing  ways.

How the entire process works in positive ways for many transgender women and men is that we have a chance to re-invent ourselves. How many humans have an opportunity like that? It's similar to the cup being half full or empty. Sure it's painful to lose old family or friends but the opportunity to build new relationships (and better) ones is always a possibility. In the end we are just a big piece of clay to work with. 

How we work that clay of course is up to each of us. In many ways we are gender hybrids which is the reason so many people don't understand us as transgender women and men.  If we work our clay right, maybe they will. 

Are You a Role Model?

 With the Transgender Day of Visibility rapidly approaching, it is time to think of why you might be visible or have been during certain periods of your life. There is also the chance when you were visible you may have been a role model to someone. 

I wish I could use Georgette as an example. She has led an incredible life of being a transgender woman and commenting about it to me. Without all of the facts in front of me, I can only say along the way she has been living as a stealth woman all the way to being out.  I am sure during her journey through life she has been a role model to someone. 

In my case, I have tried to be a role model in my writings as well as my current infrequent visits to the local transgender - cross dresser support group meetings. 

Photo Courtesy 
Jessie Hart

You may argue being a role model is possible by simply outlasting the next person in life. If you do, you are right. On the other hand, you never know who is considering coming out in their own life as transgender and you impact their life. The very same thing happened with me not long ago when a friend of Liz and I child came out as a transgender man. I knew her growing up but had no clue he was going to join the "tribe". 

In other ways, being a role model can simply be a reaction to being in the right place at the right time. I know when I was growing up I would have been so impressed if I could have been able to know another person with similar gender dysphoric needs. As a tribe, we transgender women and men are still relatively scarce and not immune to harassment.  In fact I was just reading on Facebook of when a close acquaintance of mine and her wife were made fun of when they went out to eat a brunch yesterday. It's so tragic example of how all is not well for transgender people everywhere. Ironically, she lives quite close to me but across the "border" where liberal acceptance to anything remotely different is rare. Even though all eyes were on her, she probably will never know whose life she may have impacted. One never knows when a questioning transgender person is watching you. 

Being a role model does not have to be a complex experience. You don't have to volunteer for anything, you just have to be in the present. Of course the more you have transitioned and the more you "fit" into your authentic self there is the chance not many people will notice you anyhow. Unless you are in Seattle where Connie joked if you see three women together in dresses, they must be cross dressers. That's all good too. You can be a cross dresser and be a positive role model also. 

Don't stress out being a role model, just live your life being as positive as possible and good things will happen. You just never know when. 

Awards in the "Nati"

 It's always nice to be awarded for my blogging efforts here in Cyrsti's Condo and on the Medium writers format. 

Actually I have received two awards now on Medium. The first was for my desire to write for the LGBTQ community and the second was a bit of a surprise. Recently I was given an award for fashion. 

As you regulars know, I don't spend much time writing anymore concerning what I wear. In fact, if I spend much time reviewing many of my older blog posts, I spent much more time explaining what I wore to do my best presenting my exterior self in a new (to me) exciting feminine world. 

At that point I began to think was there such a thing as transgender fashion? Quickly I began to understand there was. If you follow Stana at the Femulate blog who may be the ultimate transgender fashionista or me who is comfortable in jeans and sweaters, we all have the same thing in common. A desire to blend in with or even out do our cis women acquaintances. Many times we have to be better to even be able to exist as our authentic selves. In fact, my two wives on occasion both asked me for help with their make up. My current partner Liz doesn't need any help because she was a former Avon sales person. 

Let us not forget hair as part of our overall appearance and there is a definite reason most all cis women spend so much time, effort and money on their hair during a lifetime. As an example, all the responses I received from my post on wigs. Easily one of the most well received posts I have ever received, thanks to you all!

Speaking (or writing) of people writing in and commenting which is a relative rarity compared to how many "hits" or visits I receive. Even rarer is when I receive a comment who does live, or has visited  the metro Cincinnati, Ohio area. Take this comment from Velma for example on the post I wrote on "toxic masculinity." 

FYI, the "Nati" is another term for the city of Cincinnati where I live. It is also known as the "Queen City." Another slang term which once was  used was "Hamil-tucky" which refers to our border with Northern Kentucky. With all the recent development in the metro area, the term is becoming very outmoded. .Before I regress any farther here is Velma's comment:

" I was compelled to write after I read your profile and found you lived in Hamil-Tucky County, Ohio.My sister used to live there, and I LIKE Cinci, but, yeah, I have seen THAT side of The Queen(?-really-?) City.

I have seen plenty of same here in NC. Here we gots 'Carolina Squat' pickups.
Too many men merely mimic their best idea of what the image of MASCULINITY is, appearance wise, rather than being who they truly are.

It seems that these men are simply posturing to each other to 'gain rank/standing inside their work group.
And, the PAYOFF IS......?
As the saying goes:
"All HAT and no cattle".
Or, how's about:
'everyone is transmitting machismo, but no one has remembered to turn on the receiver.
The question begs it self: Are the women paying attention to such image and posturing?
Doubtful."

Thanks Velma! Your comment brings up a great point, by having the biggest pickup truck are men dressing for other men? Well yes they are! I agree with you Velma, most women don't get the connection. A comment for another post.

Also thanks to "Medium" for the award!

  

Toxic Masculinity and the Trans Girl

Over the years when I was trying my best to exist in an ultra masculine world, I encountered too many men who would have been described as being toxic masculine. In essence they were the ones who tended to dismiss women as basically only emotional people who were only good for sex and/or having kids. 

I can truthfully say I wasn't an active part of their mentality but on the other hand was ashamed when I went along with their childish actions. I had two excuses. The first was in the business I was in I had to manage to the best of my ability a group of macho redneck cooks in a kitchen. I had to appear tough. The second was on the other hand I had to manage a group of mainly female servers, hostesses and bar tenders. Even then I was studying women intensely to learn how they really maintained in society so in many ways it was a labor of love. I learned my guys in the kitchen worked better when I could manage them as a team and the women worked better when I understood they were going to form their cliques anyhow, so adapt to them and hope for the best.

Further more I had to watch for frontal confrontations from the men and passive attacks from the women. Lessons which would serve me well later as I transitioned genders.  

Lessons I wish I had paid attention to didn't take long to happen. One night very early in my transition I found myself with a group of men discussing a topic I considered myself to be well versed in. Very early they shut me totally out as if I was never there at all. I thought it was one of my first opportunities to learn first hand what my life was going to be like as a transgender woman. I was right and on the other hand, my lessons learned from my work world worked well too. 

I also learned quickly the amount of  non verbal communication women use. It is no wonder most men say they can't understand women when they can't pick up non verbal cues. 

Photo by Icons8 Team on Unsplash

Ironically I had to change my stereotype of what a toxic man even looked like. When I began to explore the world, I attempted to stay clear of any man who looked like the macho type. not unlike my former self. It got so bad I couldn't even try to buy tickets for a sports event from a street "scalper" because they thought I was a cop. Slowly but surely I learned many of the "macho" men didn't seem to care much about me at all and weren't going to verbally attack me. My theory was they were more secure in their sexuality than the normal man. 

Of course recent political activities have made it possible for toxic masculinity to come out of the shadows and even thrive in some areas. Unfortunately the trans community, women and men, has been potentially the hardest hit. The attacks aren't just coming from cis men, they are coming from cis women as well.    

The future is not a given for anybody. Especially not the trans girl.  As always we are going to have to be better and fight for what we have.

Wigging Out

 Recently I wrote a post which detailed a few of my trials and tribulations I experienced with wigs before I was able to grow my own hair to a feminine length. Ironically, one of the first things I noticed was all of the sudden I had to somehow see the back of my head to check out my hair. No more easy out by using a wig head and stand. 

I received plenty of responses by readers who commented on their own wig experiences. Including Monica who currently is up to owning five wigs. I am sure at my height of "wigging out" I owned many more than that, so I understand the attraction. After all, wigs are a natural extension of our makeup and seemingly (at least for me) there was always another wig which would take me to the promised land and I would become the attractive feminine person I always wanted to be. Plus, I feel I was attempting to overcome the days of financial challenges when I couldn't afford much at all when it came to a hairpiece. 

It turns out, I wasn't alone when it came to being a struggling novice transgender woman on the search for the best possible hair. As has happened many times over the span of our lives, Connie and I share quite a similar history:

"At the age of 34, I was married with two young daughters. We’d just bought a house, and I was anxious to fix up the unfinished basement to make an office for my part-time business, as well as shelving for storing all of those seldomly used things, such as holiday decorations. I’d already put a door with a lock on it for my office, and then, late one night, I started organizing things on the shelves. When I got to the Halloween box, I took a peek inside. There it was: that black wig, along with all sorts of makeup. Now, I had worn that wig a few times on Halloween before, but it had been part of a monster-type of costume when I had. On this night, though, it brought back every memory of my feminine-self. I took the whole box, along with an old mirror that was in the basement, into my new office and locked the door behind me. Doing the best I could with what was available, I put the wig on my head and made up my face. Looking at myself in the mirror, I remember whispering, “You can do so much better than this.”

Photo Courtesy Connie Malone

Money was a little tight after just having had bought a house, but it was probably more on my mind to rebuild a feminine wardrobe and accessories as cheaply as possible out of my renewed guilt. My wife had a basket full of makeup that she’d given up on, so I could easily take what I needed from that. I ordered a dress, a pair of heels, and some undergarments from the Sears catalogue, which I could discreetly pick up at the store’s will call. A new wig, though, was more difficult to find without, I thought, outing myself. Somehow, I discovered that K-Mart sold wigs, so I got what I determined to be the best one that was available at the time. It was brown in color, just as my mother’s wigs were, and somewhat contemporary in style (as contemporary and stylish as one might expect to find at K-Mart, anyway). I remember shunning the blonde wig, at the time, as I thought it to be “overdoing it.” I bought that wig, along with a set of wrenches as an attempted cover, and thus began my return to the pursuit of womanhood."

Thanks for the comment! It's amazing to me how the slightest trigger object can lead us back into fond memories of our feminine pasts. Mine was a long blond wig I fell in love with and managed to buy for my then fiancé. She wouldn't wear it but of course I would. That hairpiece managed to stay with me for many years. Even surviving my time in the military and several ill fated "purges" I attempted when I resolved myself to never cross dress again. That really worked out! I haven't cross dressed as a man for nearly a decade. 

I can't make the point enough. I am so lucky to have been able to grow a full head of hair. Now I have to get back to a salon and let a hairdressing professional take care of it. Before it begins to appear as if I have been wigging out.  

Just Passing Thru

 Over the past several days and weeks I have happened along several acquaintances I made over the years. Of course when you get to be my age (72) the opportunity grows to have more people who have just passed through your life. Then again too, I wonder about some of them making a larger influence on my life. 

In the middle of it all was my twenty five year relationship with my deceased wife, my five year relationship with my first wife and my current relationship which is going strong at nearly eleven years. I guess you can say if nothing else I have been loyal. As I think about all the others is when I get bogged down with all the "what if's". What if the woman I met in a Columbus Ohio lesbian bar and went to a party with wanted to see me again? Similar to the date I had with a guy in Dayton, Ohio? I could go on and on  The differences were my wife was still very much alive when I met the first woman and I really couldn't visualize myself with anyone else but the guy was much different. I was on my own and actively exploring my own sexuality. In essence I was all over the gender spectrum although I still knew I liked women. The allure of having validation from the male gender was powerful also.

As life has a way of doing, many times it is like water. If you let it go, it will find it's own level. For me that level was feminine. It seems the more I tried to find a male companion, the easier it was to find a female one. Much more than when I was completely in the world cross dressing as a man. Maybe the women I was around then could sense I was a mess. 

Photo from Unsplash

Since I was a mess, I had very few male "friends." I spent my life guarding myself from the world so most people just were passing thru. 

I think too, we transgender people have more of a chance to have more people just pass thru our lives. Primarily because early on we are so guarded and later because we start all over attempting to build new lives. Many times the process dictates a whole new set of people just passing thru.

Another problem is when transgender women or men become successful in entering society many of them leave the transgender or LGBTQ group they were part of.  So there goes another group of acquaintances. 

It's difficult for me to even compare if I had had the opportunity to live a mainstream life if I would have had more or less of the same people just passing thru. Maybe it isn't as important as it was to me when I thought of it when I couldn't sleep last night. I just can't help but wonder what happened to certain people who just passed me by so quickly as my life sped by. 

Transgender Freedom

Is there something called transgender freedom?  Some I sure would argue no, which I believe I would have to agree with. You may ask why if you read my recent post on transgender boredom which I actually experienced after going out two nights in a row without experiencing any negative feedback, So, by now you are thinking what is the problem.

The problem is I have never been able to accept success much at all. Especially with my gender issues. Once I arrived at a certain point in my transition, I always thought there had to be more. In my pursuit to find more, often I found myself in over my head. A prime example was the night I was in a sports tavern I thought I was safe in and several men decided to make my life miserable by playing "Dude Looks Like a Lady" over and over again on the juke box until the manager asked me to leave. I got my revenge weeks later when he got fired and several servers found me down the street in another venue I was a regular in and asked me to come back. I look at the experience two ways. First of all, it was a big hot mess of excitement and terror to do what I did at all and secondly I was lucky nothing more than my feelings were ultimately hurt.

Shortly after that I was able to work with my new found transgender freedom in new ways. By doing so I found a new circle of friends including the one I write about all the time. As it turned out, the others were different and interesting to be around too. Those were the friends who came so close to inviting me to a bachelorette party and included the motorcycle guy who took a liking to me. To make long stories short, the bachelorette party never happened and the motorcycle guy moved away shortly after his failed marriage to a wild woman in the group who was a hairdresser and exotic dancer. The one thing you never know about your freedom is when it is going to give you a gift or take it away. 

Little did I know, all of this sudden freedom I had acquired after my wife passed away was going to lead me to new and wonderful feminine transgender experiences. This was when I went through what only can be called a period of advanced trans experiences.  Or, for those of you who prefer abbreviations, ATE. To be sure I eagerly "ate" up all the culture I could as I was learning how it was to communicate and live full time as a woman. Little did I know how right my wife was everytime she told me there was more to being a woman than becoming the "pretty pretty princess" a couple days a week. Once again, it wasn't until after she departed and I started to play in the girls sandbox  did I discover how right she was. I sustained many scratches and set backs before I earned my spot in the sandbox. The photo you see above was from that period in my life.

It was approximately this time of my life when I took my friend Connie's advice and started writing about my experiences. My goral then as it still is all these years later is to provide help and input to anyone I can through my blog. 

Even though I have reached a point of boredom in my public presentation, I still don't consider my transgender freedom to be a done deal. At this point of my life I still have my final years to look forward to. I am fairly sure that once again I will have to fight for my gender freedoms again. On the positive side, I will be used to it. 

And, while I am on the subject, those of you just beginning your journey. Rest assured the trip will be worth it. Just take advantage of all the stops along the way to catch your breath and continue when you can. 

Your freedom as your authentic self awaits. 

Photo Shoot

 This is one of those experiences which came from being in the right place at the right time, which never was one of my strong points during my gender transition. Plus, it happened approximately seven years ago so I have a difficult time thinking it ever happened at all. 

It all started innocently enough when Liz and I went to what can only be described as a working artist/crafters mall. It was/is located in a vintage brick shoe factory in downtown Cincinnati. My partner Liz is a quality crafter and was keenly interested in what the many shops had to offer.

As we slowly made our way through the venue, we came across a photographer and her friend who just happened to be putting together an album of the different types of women they could find. Then their effort would be judged in Chicago by another group. Before I knew it, they were strongly suggesting I should become a part of their photo shoot. 

Of course I was flattered they wanted me to be a part of their compilation. And thought it was a great idea to include a transgender woman as one of the different women who can be found in the world. But then the doubts and misgivings began to filter in. What would I wear to the photo shoot? How much makeup should I wear were just two questions I had. My fears were not justified though when they gave me instructions on what to wear, including makeup.

In a short period of time, I found myself being photographed by a real live professional. While I loved the attention, I was scared to death! How would the pictures portray me and how would my gender dysphoria react. Before I knew it, my time as a photography model was over and I headed home.

It took a couple weeks before I saw the results and I was indeed disappointed. Somehow I thought I would look better but what you see is what you get. I used to have the exact pictures they shared with me but try as I might I can't find one. So, the one I shared in this post is close to the same time period of my life.

None ot it mattered as the entry they put together and sent on to the Chicago competition didn't win anyhow. 

My input wasn't over though as I as well the other models were invited to a gallery presentation here in Cincinnati. When I went, I promptly made my presence known by spilling a glass of wine all over the catering table.

Even though we didn't win any prizes, I will always remember my all too brief role as a photo shoot model in 2015.

Boredom?

 Over the years of transitioning across the transgender border, I never considered I would ever arrive at a point where I would be on the verge of boredom. But  my partner Liz and I went out again last night which made it two nights in a row and my idea of boredom began to change. As unamazing as it all was, nothing happened. No stares, no comments...no anything which would allow me to think I was perceived as anything but the woman I always have wanted to become.

Photo by Jen Theodore on Unsplash
NOT of me.

 Similar to many milestones in my transgender life, I remember vividly thinking in the middle of dinner I better start paying extra attention to Liz because for once I didn't have any other outside influences to distract me.

The only thing which did occur to me was it past time for me to go stealth. By stealth I mean, hiding all vestiges of my previous life as a guy. 

Truly I have considered a stealth life for years. Mainly because I am perceived at home as a woman by Liz and her son anyhow. Plus by my daughter and by many friends, so anyone else doesn't matter to me anyway. Also with the advent of Covid restrictions over the past several years, we decided not to go out and face the risks anyhow. Even though we were fully vaccinated. 

The whole process is most likely a natural one which I have addressed here before. First, you suffer from a severe gender dysphoria when you are not sure which gender you feel natural with. Then you embark down a gender road to decide who you really are. Which can be a difficult process. In fact I met a transgender person the other night who was thinking of reversing the process she had already gone through. The problem  I see with any gender de- transition is many times it is done because of another person or persons usually from a family. The transgender person is stuck between a rock and a hard place. Especially if they are younger and are faced with building a life as their authentic self. 

Fortunately, at my age, it's not a problem I face.  I have gone through the questioning phase of my gender dysphoria and finally decided I have become more than a gender. I am now just another person trying my best to look nice. No different than any other woman. 

The boredom I experienced last night is no more than another phase.

Party Down

Last night proved to be a wonderful time. For the first time in many days, my partner Liz and I were able to go out and enjoy ourselves. 

Even though it was St. Patrick's Day, the venue we were meeting several other transgender women in was fairly quiet. I was able to enjoy a pint of Guinness stout ale along with corned beef, potatoes and cabbage. Nothing more Irish than that!

Photo Courtesy JJ Hart

Since the place was fairly quiet, I was even able to hear the conversations around the table. One in particular was wonderful when the transgender woman told us the story of her being accepted by her children. In typical trans style, she was always thinking of the possibility they may not.

In many ways, it is incredibly sad when acceptance is the major topic when trans people gather. But it was a sign of the times last night (I hope)when no one else paid us any undue attention. What helped also was we were in a relatively liberal upscale suburb of Cincinnati. As in true with many metro/urban areas, once you find yourself very far outside city limits, the attitudes can change...quickly. 

Plus, there is safety in numbers. Especially with novice transgender women and men. Lynnea mentioned it when she wrote in and commented on the "Were you Bullied" post:

"Escape from bullying takes different forms. Here are some I've employed:

Escape into dreams. I accepted the isolation and kept to my own world of thoughts, books, and even the dreams of the night.

Escape into a clique. I sometimes think "schooling" is so called because you have to find a group in which to make yourself less likely for attack like the schooling of fish.

Escape into another locality. I went to high school outside my district because I would probably have been murdered otherwise.

Escape through expulsion. My own family expelled me from their circle after decades of gross vilification for not accepting their bigotries. I'm better off not having them in my life anyway.

Escape through homelessness. As serious as this state of hardship has been, I did eventually gain a home. Walking away from an abusive environment and living on the streets was preferable to the abuse."

As I pivot away from my original post, it's time to share another comment on being bullied from Deborah :

"Yes, I was bullied in various ways. Even into my 20s. I couldn't face my gender dysphoria. It forces us into a dark cave, repressing feelings. At 71 I am still unpacking these feelings. Just retired last year... At last! Time to feel and be! --"

I suppose in many ways, just having the freedom to party down can show us the path to our own freedom from gender dysphoria.

I have received so many comments especially on the hair post I wrote and others, I am going to try to respond as soon as I can. In the meantime, I hope you are seeing the light in your gender tunnel and it isn't the train. 

The Luck of the Irish

 Happy St. Patrick's Day to all of you! May you wear your finest green feminine attire and have a safe good time. 

Without a lot of fanfare, Liz and I are going to join several of our transgender friends we haven't seen  forever for dinner.  For the occasion I have picked out a green sweater I have had for some time. 

To my knowledge I am not Irish but I certainly will take advantage of any of the luck which happens to come my way!

Were you Bullied?

 So many gender dysphoric individuals sadly have to put up with the effects of bullying when they grow up. The process is capable of scarring them throughout their lives. 

Ironically, effeminate boys and men on occasion transition into the most natural women so it's the age old "give and take" story. 

As we all know, there are as many forms of bullying as there are different forms of human beings. Children can be emotionally abused all the way to being verbally abused. Even resulting in physical trauma. Plus there is religious bullying which I don't even want to discuss. 

Photo by Morgan Basham on Unsplash

I escaped being bullied by escaping into the ultra masculine world of sports. Back then, very few girls attempted to play any sports at all in the Midwestern rural area where I grew up. So by participating in football, baseball and basketball, I could at least for a time escape my desperate desire to be a cheerleader rather than a player. 

Once I hit the high school years, I transferred to a new much bigger school and was faced with making new friends. Again back where I lived in the early 1960's, schools were still years away from having any sort of LGBTQ clubs or organizations. No where to meet like mined individuals, even if I would have been brave enough to do it. What happened was I did meet a few others I as able to form friendships with. Although none I knew of who shared my gender dysphoria. Of course I didn't have a name for it. All I knew was somedays I woke up desperately wanting to be a girl and it was slowing dawning on me I didn't want a girl sexually...I wanted to be her physically.  

Through it all, I was able to escape the bullies and essentially disappear into the overall mass of students. Plus I did over compensate and played on the high school football team until I broke an ankle. Not the fashion accessory I was looking for. 

The problem was I didn't really know what I was looking for. I was too shy to even ask a girl for a date but then would go home and if I was alone dress up like her, But I thought I needed to try to date a girl to once again prove to my family and friends I was a masculine person. I solved the problem by letting some of the girls in high school I barely knew set me up with a date to the schools' junior prom. I thought the whole process would once again solidify my maleness and set me up for success as a male. The whole process once again would keep the bullies away and even help me if one of my two stashes of feminine clothes and makeup was discovered. 

It breaks my heart to read about transgender or gay youth who are not supported by their families. There is so much more information available today to aid in their lives. 

As far as bullies are concerned, I fear they are as human as the species goes. After all, human beings are an Apex predator and like sharks, smell blood in the water. The real parenting challenge comes in not raising a child to be a bully.

However you survived bullies in your life, I hope you were finally able to escape all the negative problems which may still plaque you. I know I still have the resulting fear of being laughed at when I am out and about. It's frustrating because one way or another I was able to escape the problems of being bullied.

Did I Really do That?

 When I look back on my fifty plus years of my life as a gender dysphoric person, I wonder why I did certain things. Many times I manage to come up with these memories in the middle of the night when I can't sleep. Along the way also, I try to come up with ideas for another post. 

One of the most problematic times of my cross dressing life came when I became able to purchase different kinds of wigs. Similar to a kid in a candy store, I became addicted to deciding when and where to look for and buy new wigs. Sadly I was still in my "big" hair faze and ended up trying to buy and then wear the biggest hair pieces in the store. I persisted even though I had several clerks try to tell me I was making the wrong choice. 

I was sure the next wig would help me to become the irresistible feminine person I just knew I was capable of becoming. To add insult to injury, by the time I tried to brush out and style a wig, I ended up ruining it further. Often all I ended up with was a clown wig suitable for Halloween, As in the picture I added. 

Of course what was good enough for Halloween wasn't good enough for everyday life. What made matters even worse was when I first started to go out I would use a different name to match the wig I was wearing. For example (as I have written about before) I was Roxy when I wore my big blond wig and Darcy when I was wearing my dark wigs.

My collection also wasn't limited to big curly styles, I purchased a long dark wig once which actually matched my own hair color at the time. It was very thick and straight and resisted my attempts to ruin it. There were several good endings wearing that wig when I wore it on a girls night out with a group of servers from a regular sports bar venue I

frequented. Which you can see here.

Through it all I finally settled on a longish straight blond wig which was slightly longer than shoulder length. It wasn't till then I settled down to being the same feminine person as much as I could, without the clown hair. It enabled the public who I was beginning to meet frequently to settle in on seeing the same person. 

One regret I do have is that I didn't save all the money on the wigs I did buy and invest in a a good/quality hairpiece. My excuse is I was still searching for the transgender person I was to become. 

Now of course I am one of the lucky transgender women who does not suffer from any male pattern baldness. I have been able with the assistance of HRT to grow a full head of long wavy hair. Which is the envy of my daughter who has commented why she didn't inherit my hair. 

Unfortunately, my experience with wigs wasn't the only ill advised stunt I tried when I transitioned but often it was the most visible one.

Gender Transitions

 Recently I wrote on the aspects of hormone replacement therapy and how I considered beginning HRT as the line I crossed when I went from being a cross dresser to a novice transgender woman. At the time I thought crossing the line would be the only gender transition I would undertake. Needless to say, I was really wrong. 

Basically what happened was, the more I learned about existing in the feminine world, the more natural I felt and the more I wanted to learn more. In a relatively short period of time I was able to begin a life as a fulltime transgender woman. Before I could, I found there were other transitions I had to make. 

The first was deciding the basic idea of exactly what I was. Was I truly a woman or a transgender woman. For the longest time I was content in thinking of myself as sort of a gender hybrid. As the years went by and I lived more and more, I finally decided I deserved the "woman" label as much as the next person who was socialized into it. Just because they were born female. I too went through the comments here on the blog regarding the description of a woman was somehow tied into childbirth. I knew that to be so much trash talk because many women can't have children medically, or want one such as my second wife. Did it make her any less of a woman? I don't think so. 

As time went by also and I was approaching the point when I conceivably could go "stealth" I transitioned to the point where I didn't really care what most anybody thought about my gender anyway. Outside of a few very isolated circumstances, I had transitioned into what I thought was gender nirvana or the ultimate confidence of believing who I am. 

Photo by Faris Mohammed on Unsplash

The nagging  question remained though was I done with my gender transition. The answer is a resounding no. The farther I went, it seems there were always steps to climb or a wall to scale.

Perhaps regular reader Paula said it best when she wrote in and commented she essentially had passed the point of just considering herself a woman. All the way to believing in herself as a person.

In other words, Paula is just herself along with her many interests such as being a musician. When you are yourself, it leaves others to have no choice but to believe in you too. If they don't...buh bye. 

Call a gender transition what you like. A series of challenges, stairs to climb or even walls to scale. It's all dealing in semantics but then again so real to a transgender woman or man. 

As I reach this point of my life (72 years old) my biggest blessing is to have my health for the most part which allows me to continue on my HRT. Syncing my inner female who has always been there pushing to live with my external self which the world sees has helped me tremendously.

Hopefully I can continue this gender transition I am on as I reach the point of the final transition. 

Sunday Inspiration

Last night we moved our clocks forward here in Ohio since for better or for worse we are on Daylight Savings Time. In other words we lose an hour of sleep in the Spring and we get it back in the fall. 

Saturday nights I also stay up to watch Saturday Night Live. The bottom line is I didn't get much sleep last night so I am going to leave you with simple words of inspiration:

 

 Just think, we transgender women and men have the chance to re invent ourselves in the best possible way. Maybe that is possibly part of what makes us so scary to so many Republicans across the country. Who are doing their best to destroy us. 

What they don't understand is we are a strong, resilient tribe and we will survive. 

The Point of No Return

 Yesterday was one of the days I was scheduled to change my synthetic Estrogen patches. Every now and then I pause to remember all the changes I have gone through over the years. 

I usually hesitate to write about the HRT process because hormone replacement therapy is such a unique topic. In other words, it can vary so much between individuals. Age, dosage and current physical condition all factor in. HRT is certainly not for everyone and should not be undertaken without the help of a medical professional. As I set my usual disclaimer aside, it's time to describe my own personal hormonal gender journey for those of you who may be considering it. 

At the very beginning, I can only describe myself as a very serious cross dresser. I normally tried to sooth my extreme gender dysphoria by dressing as a woman two or even three times a week. Through all of it deep down I knew living with feet in both of the binary genders was never going to be a long term solution to my gender questions .I also knew adding synthetic estrogen to my body was going to be my next logical step towards rebuilding my life as a novice transgender woman.

Before I did I had to be checked out by a family doctor who I heard of through the grapevine. He was   a LGBT friendly physician in the Dayton, Ohio area. By this time, my wife had passed away and I was free to take what gender action I wanted to transition or not. Of course you know that I did and the appointment was made. 

Photo Courtesy: During my CD days
Jessie Hart

The doctor's visit itself was very straight forward and simple. He asked me if I knew my breasts would grow along with my hair and my sex drive would for the most part go away. When I accepted all those possibilities, he wrote me the magical prescription I had long dreamed of. The meds were pills with synthetic estrogen along with a med which would decrease my testosterone. By mutual agreement, we decided to begin my HRT on a very minimum dosage to determine how my body would react. Happily, I had no adverse reactions and was given a slightly higher dosage. All in all, I was still impatient for all the feminizing changes I was expecting. I could feel my breasts starting to change and I never had a problem growing hair, so I wanted more.

More would come. This time compliments of the Veteran's Administration. At this time, I was experiencing severe financial problems and had lost my regular health insurance. I desperately needed the health care the VA offered. For the most part, free to me for my service in the military. To continue my hormone replacement therapy with the VA, I had to go back through the process of seeing a doctor, including a therapist. I was fortunate in that the therapist who was assigned to me had a basis of knowledge of transgender and/or gender dysphoric individuals. She promptly wrote me a letter of acceptance and it was up to me to do the rest. 

I did have a bump in the road when the VA hospital I was a patient of did not have an endocrinologist to monitor my meds. It took awhile but I finally received approval to see an Endo doc outside of the Va which they would pay for. Once I got used to seeing him, I was able to move back into the VA system for monitoring until I was diagnosed with a liver problem and again was taken off my hormones. 

The liver problem was conquered and I was allowed to resume my HRT. The good news was I was able to increase my dosages and change to patches to save extra wear and tear on my liver. 

The increased dosage began the changes I had longed hope for. My face began to soften along with my skin. Body hair started to thin (except for my beard) and my breasts really started to grow. All of those changes couldn't compare with my inner changes. I will never forget my first hot flash when I was sitting in a sports bar sipping on a beer. I was sure I was going to internally combust! Then, there were the tears. During my male life, I rarely, if at all ever cried. Now I can cry over bad and good things. What a change.

As I look back, I still consider hormone replacement therapy was the second of several major gender transitions I went through.  Just when I thought there were only two transitions, I found myself going through another. 

More on that later in another post.

Transgender Validation?

 Over the years and especially in the very beginning, I worked very hard to achieve my validation as a transgender woman. Or, better yet, being validated as a woman at all. To arrive at where I desperately wanted to be, I had to go through many steps...literally.  My example is was when I would practice walking femininely when I perceived I was reasonably alone in larger venues such as big box stores. Even though I was fairly certain I was not being observed, I am sure I probably made a security person's night on occasion. Regardless, I was obsessed with all things feminine. 

My obsession's of course led me into all sorts of clothes and fashion accessories. Money became the biggest concern before and after my wife's death. Before she passed away, I saved all the change and extra money I could to sneak out and shop for new clothes which I was certain would enable me to become the desirable feminine person of my dreams. I became very good at shopping discount racks at stores and going to thrift stores hunting for bargains. The mirrors in more than a few of these stores became my instant friend, for better or for worse. Another example was a powder blue wool coat I fell madly in love with at a certain  coat warehouse store. I went back so many times to try it on I am surprised I didn't get asked to leave. Sadly, I was never able to afford the coat.

Once I was able to afford a few cherished articles of feminine attire, I had to decide how "cherished" they really were and where I was going to hide them from my wife at home, It took me awhile to gather up the courage to use the women's dressing room, so even though I was getting better at sizes, it was still basically taking chances on which clothing's sizes would actually fit. What I mean is, one company's large would be another companies' medium. Plus, I had to go through my "teen girl" years when I tried to wear everything too short or too tight. It was no way to be validated anywhere but in the mirror which was lying to me. 

Now, lets get back to where I could actually put the items I purchased. Fortunately we lived in a big two story 1860's brick I was restoring, so we had plenty of storage space in out of the way closets. Closets that for some reason my wife never looked in. If she had, I am sure all hell would have broken loose if she had discovered the short, flirty tennis outfit I had put together to wear to the mall. All in all I think I probably ended up with three storage closets for my ever increasing wardrobe. 

Photo Courtesy
Jessie Hart

Looking back, I suppose all my obsession with women's fashion was a natural progression in my search for validation as a novice transgender woman. Today, I am more utilitarian in my approach to fashion. With the condition of my ankles there is no way I can wear heels of any height. So my charcoal boots with the one inch heel is the best I can do. The boots go well with my leggings, jeans and sweaters. Now with spring and summer approaching of course I have to shift wardrobe gears back to my collections of tank tops, t-shirts and blouses. I also have two soft maxi dresses which I adore. I save them for the hot summer months. 

 For me, a large part of my transgender validation now comes from the fact my breasts, hair and hips are all mine, From hormone replacement therapy of course. 

I still believe the tipping point for me in my validation came when I discovered I should be dressing for other women, not men. By doing so, I could blend in much easier with society and be accepted. Once I reached that point, my life as a novice transgender woman became clearer. 

Being human (I think) the fascinating part of all of this comes from the fact we are all different. More and more I am learning about couples staying together as one of them transitions. Yet, there are so many others who are forced to face the task of crossing the gender border to play in the sandbox  by themselves. Thus the points of validating your transgender self can be a highly fluid process. 

It's too bad the path to transgender validation can't be easier and more enjoyable. Not one of the most difficult journeys a human can take. 

Side Chick?

For years I have thought of the many times I went out into a feminine world to explore the possibility of living full time as a transgender woman. The more I did it, the more natural it became. In essense I learned fairly quickly I could exist in a feminine world. 

After my wife passed away and I started hormone replacement therapy, I became very lonely. To battle being alone, I essentially did what I called going out to be alone. Because I rarely interacted in the beginning with anyone until I began to form a whole new circle of friends. As I look back, I found I needed a better way to express what I was doing. 

Finally I came up with this blinding reality. I was slowing becoming my own "side chick." Unfortunately  for me it all starred when my wife was still alive. During all the nights I was out and about cross dressed as a woman when she was still at work. Those were the days when my self esteem as a man was at an all time low due to all the lying I was doing to her when at the same time my self esteem as a novice transgender woman was growing by leaps and bounds. All in all, it was a process I couldn't maintain. Living life with a foot in each of the binary genders was killing me. 

Becoming my own "side chick" definitely came with it's own set of ups and downs. I started the process by going to so called "safe" places such as predominately male gay venues. I found out quickly I wasn't really accepted there either. Plus I didn't like the music much anyhow. At that point I began to seek out two of the smaller lesbian bars which were relatively close to me. At one of them, they hated me but at the other I was accepted and had several interesting experiences. Which I will save for another post.

From the lesbian venues, I began to pull up my big girl panties by going to two of the big sports bars I used to frequent as a guy. All proceeded well as I slowly began to know several of the bartenders and or servers who looked out for me. The problem was I was a single woman in a venue which normally attracted many men. Many times, the trick I used to act like I was expecting company was to pull out my cell phone as if I was going to have a call. 

Even though being my own "side chick" was working for me, nothing could help when my wife passed away. Naturally I was very lonely and had pretty much been a social person for most of my life. Destiny was about to work in my direction and rescue me. The first big happening occurred when one of the bartenders I knew asked me if I would like to have a casual drink with her single mother. It all worked out very well and we remain friends to this day and I think of her daily. 

The second major meetup happened when another woman came into the sports bar to pick up a carryout order and slid me a note down the bar. The three of us used to get together at least once a week and even attended several lesbian mixers together.  Good times!

Photo Courtesy
Jessie Hart

By now, perhaps you regulars (thank you!) are maybe wondering where my partner Liz entered the picture with me. During this time also, I was still sorting all the trash I was receiving from several so called dating sites. I did have a couple quality dates when men but overall the selections were very slim. What did happen was Liz answered my "ad" saying I had sad eyes. In fact, I think I still have the "sad eyes" picture to share from ten years ago. We started corresponding and talking and I ended up moving in with her in Cincinnati.

As I look back on my "side chick " days the memories are certainly bittersweet. They were times of extremely terrifying yet exciting experiences as I was discovering all my authentic gender self had to offer.

Rest in peace side chick...hello real world. 

Monumental Woman

 This comment comes from Connie when I referred to her post about being called a "monumental woman"

"Being a “Monumental Woman” should be embraced. When the man in the grocery store called me that, I wasn’t, immediately, sure what he meant by it. It seemed to have been presented as a compliment, although it bordered on being a bit inappropriate. I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean that I strikingly resembled the Statue of Liberty, or that my face should be carved into the wall of Mt. Rushmore. Nevertheless, it did give cause for some self-reflection.

Photo Courtesy :
Connie Malone

For most of my life, living as a man, I was barely noticed at all. There was nothing about me that would cause heads to turn when I entered a room, anyway. Even during those years when I was pumping the weights to make my body large and rock-hard, there was nothing monumental about me. I’ll admit that there was some euphoria experienced when I flexed my 17” biceps, but it would always end up giving way to my gender dysphoria at some point. The whole effort was only a form of self-imposed conversion therapy, after all. As physically painful as it was when I decimated a rotator cuff, it was a relief to have it be an excuse for putting an end to my body building. *By the way, I had shoulder surgery at the same time a friend underwent gender reassignment surgery, and she recovered two months before I did.

I’m not very tall, really – 5’9”. When I wear heels, they are at least 3 ½”, because I think the shoes look better with a higher heel, considering the ratio to the length of a size 11 shoe. I have a few pairs that are 5”, but they’re for special occasions. So, in heels, I’m over 6 feet tall. That’s still not so very tall for a woman, but when I’m out with my wife I tower over her. She’s 5’2” tall and wears size 4 clothing. I usually check to see what height heels she’s wearing before we go out together. While she tells me that the height difference does not matter to her, I don’t feel like I need to make it any more apparent than it already is.

No matter where I go, or what the height of my heels are, I practice the same posture that my mother taught me. I hold my head high. When I walk into a room these days, I expect to be noticed. It’s not that I expect to be put on a pedestal like Lady Liberty, although I quite enjoy the liberty to be a statuesque lady (so to speak)."

Interesting! Thanks :)