Being Better

Photo from the 
Jessie Hart
Collection
Always attempting to be better than the next person was always part of my life. 

Nothing I did was ever good enough for my parents. If I received "B's" in a school course, my grade should have been an "A". If I made sports team, why wasn't I a starting player? These were just a few examples of how life went. I can't ever remember hearing an encouraging comment like way to go from my parents. Similar to so many other aspects in life, I figured it was normal and went on. Little did I know how being better would come back to haunt me later in life.

As I doubled down on my cross dressing efforts again I found nothing I did was good enough. The main problem I had was I was always playing catch up to the other women. They all benefitted from growing up around a peer group which judged them with basics such as makeup and wardrobe. Of course I needed to learn all of it on my own. 

Perhaps one of the most frustrating aspects of the entire transgender process was not only did I need to learn the appearance process on the fly (with no help), when I ended up going out in public, in order to survive I had to be better than the women around me. Perhaps one of the bigger compliments I ever received from my second wife came when she actually asked me to help her with her makeup one night when we were going out. Although she never said it, I knew I had somehow arrived in her eyes as a person who knew her way around makeup. 

It turned out, I was only scratching the surface. Before I utilized the benefits of hormone replacement therapy to grow my own hips and breasts, I resorted to silicone breasts and foam hips to give me a more feminine form. I simply wanted to be the attractive blond woman in the bars I frequented. It worked as I was noticed in a few of the lesbian bars I went to, as I was approached my other women much more masculine than I was. My confidence soared and I felt as if I was finally making in roads into looking better than the next woman. Even though I was transgender. Then it occurred to me I had to be better to just survive as trans. 

Through it all, my natural upbringing kicked in and I thought being better was just part of the game. After all, any cis woman could throw on any old shirt and jeans and go out and no one would question her gender. If I did the same, I would be busted or clocked instantly for being a man in a dress. As unfair as it was, I understood because I had been living with the rules my entire life. In other words, I was up to working harder to achieve my goal of living fulltime as a transgender woman. Which was becoming harder and harder with each step forward I took. I always understood women led a vastly different gender life as men but I didn't understand how much until I set out to prove I could do it every day.

I was primarily blindsided by the communication aspect of feminine interactive conversation. I needed to learn the basics of reading  someone's emotions through their eyes and not their words. Plus, let's not forget the power of a woman's passive aggressive nature. Too many times I remembered trusting another woman only to be stabbed (or clawed) in the back. The whole process taught me  quickly I needed to get better. A feminine public presentation was one thing but being allowed to play in the girls sandbox was another. 

In remembering my post from yesterday, I still need to remind myself of who and where I am as a trans woman. Just a small thing as a smile turned out to be a huge deal. But I was used to knowing I needed to be better. Picked myself up and went from there.

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