Outreach Revisited

Trans Flag over Cincinnati City Hall.

This week has come and gone, along with  the two outreach events I had.  One was easier than the other. The first was our virtual meeting of the local Cincinnati Alzheimer's group I am a part of. 

The second was much more difficult for several different reasons. The first one was I needed to be there in person. Which meant I needed to navigate the congested area of the University of Cincinnati campus where the Transgender Wellness Clinic was being held. Of course, as predicted, the GPS on my phone wouldn't work, so I made several wrong turns along the way before I made it. 

Once I did manage to arrive, I received a warm welcome plus the closest parking spot available for the event. In fact, the walking distance to the elevators was very close and a welcome respite for the long, congested drive. 

Since the Wellness Clinic was held on a college campus, the crowd was predictably young. As far as the panel itself went, I was a little disappointed in that I was by far the elder of the group. I thought several others in my age category would volunteer to come but I learned they all turned down coming except for me. The organizer said they expressed fear when approached about coming. From that point onward, I made a point of me not having any fear of being seen in public and I am slowly but surely trying to get out more. No matter how stressful it may be. 

As far as questions went, most of them revolved on how times have changed since all the panel members came out of their gender closets. Even though, most of the other panelists were half my age, several of them came out approximately the same time I did, since they had the courage to follow their inner souls faster than I did. Since I have known several of them for years, the reunion was fun. Plus, there was quite a bit of good group interaction from the panel. Even better, was when I found out how many people listened to my introduction and picked up on the fact I am a transgender veteran and thanked me for my service. 

I left the panel feeling better about the world after urging the younger generation to stay politically active and fight all the negative political changes which are under court challenges here in Ohio. On the positive side also, the trans woman who invited me to the Wellness event also was able to raise the transgender flag over the Cincinnati City Hall.   

The trip home was predictably the same with me making the wrong turns and getting lost but somehow I found my way. Which might also describe my gender journey. Don't panic, just try to find another route and keep moving towards a goal. My only main problem I encountered was a huge interstate traffic jam caused by a bad accident. After I arrived home, I finally had a chance to look back with pride that I was included in such a wonderful event. 

Pictures were taken and if I see any, I will pass them along to all of you. 

Gender Truth

 

Image from Oksana Manyich on UnSplash

It took nearly a half a century for me to come to terms with my gender truths. Mainly, what I was into was so much more than a casual approach to cross dressing. 

My first clues came when I learned the hard way just briefly looking like a girl in front of a mirror just wasn't good enough. I needed to do more and more to try to discover my gender truth. I even went as far as waterproofing a small collection of girls fashions and makeup in a nearby woods where we lived so I could be alone when I cross dressed. I even was able to move around and enjoy the outside air on my body. 

In the long term, discovering my gender truth was mainly a case of following all the clues. I already mentioned clue number one when I never could seem to be satisfied with being locked in my gender closet when all the women around me seemed to get all the benefits of society. It wasn't until much later when I found that wasn't true and men actually had many privileges in society which women never had. Regardless, I wanted so much not to be the chaser and wanted a girl to chase me instead. Plus there was the Vietnam War draft which hung over my life for years and years and threatened to destroy everything I had worked for so far. I felt it was so unfair girls never had to worry about a draft disrupting their lives. 

It was during this time in my life when I learned what it was really going to take to cover up and hide my gender truth. I resorted to the stereotypical male response to emotions and became very good at holding most all of my gender truths in. The only slip up I had was when I convinced my fiancé in college to dress me head to toe as a woman one day at a motel room I rented. It was a move I came to regret several times in the future when she began to hold the entire experience against me. Even to the point of pushing me to tell the draft board I was gay to gain an exemption. Which I never did. Even way back then, I knew my sexuality had nothing to do with my gender truth. I just did not know how to express it.

I took many more years before I could even come close to escaping my gender closet and admit to myself what was wrong with me. Even my second wife who fought with me over my rapidly increasing fondness for a transgender diagnosis for what I was feeling, told me to just get it over with and come out. Sadly, I didn't take her advice and still tried my best to fight my gender truth. I ended up making both of us miserable in the process before she passed away.

At that point, I had very little to hold me back and even I began to realize perhaps I could live my gender truth and live full-time as a transgender woman. For the first time since the Army, approximately forty years previous, I didn't have a spouse or woman in my life to deal with. So it was time for my inner woman to finally have her chance at life. Following the huge relief of finally making the decision to transition, I began femininizing hormones and never looked back.

It turned out, it was all my fault for not realizing the truth all those years. Once I was able to live my gender truth, life became livable again.  Nothing was wrong with me. I just chose the wrong path. 

  

It's Game Day

 

Red Wig Image from the 
Jessie Hart
Archives and the game...

Recently, the Cincinnati Reds kicked off their latest professional baseball season. Opening Day is a big deal here complete with a parade and sell out crowds at the game. 

As a guy, I somehow managed to secure a ticket or two to the game because the company I worked for knew I was a huge sports fan and it was their way to keep me happier. As a transgender woman, I also managed to go to a few games but never opening day. As I aged, the problem became when I was unable to walk long distances to get to the ballpark and had nothing to do with me worrying about being accepted by the other fans in the stadium. Plus what remained of seeing the whole sporting experience in person as a woman just reinforced the fact I could take my love from one gender to another. 

I was lucky when I found and was accepted by a small group of women who were passionate about sports also. We regularly gathered at sports bars to watch our favorite teams play while we drank quantities of good cold draft beer. Good times were normally had by all, even though our teams lost. Perhaps the best part was, since I was part of a group of other women, no one questioned my gender at all. I had my validation as a person I so desperately sought. 

With one of my friends (Kim) a friendly competition developed over which professional football team we were fans of. Her family is from Pittsburgh, so naturally she is a Steelers fan which collided head on with me since I am a Cincinnati Bengals fan. Along the way, we became so close she invited me to go along with her family to a Monday Night Football game in Cincinnati. All of a sudden, I realized what such a major deal going to a real live National Football League game was when it came to my gender transition timetable. For most of my life, I wondered what it would be like to attend a game as my authentic transgender self and all of a sudden, the time had come. 

Back in those days, I had not started gender affirming hormones yet so all I had to wear was a barely fitting wig Kim and her daughter Hope had always seen me in. Hope was a bar tended/server at one of the venues I became a regular in and initially set up a meeting between her lesbian mom and I. Needless to say, I was terrified yet still excited to take another major step along my gender path. The door to my closet was opening faster than I had ever dreamed it would. Once I made it to the stadium, it was dark which helped my presentation and I went through the initial stadium security check points with no problems and my confidence began to build. We made it to our seats and no one gave me a second look, so I was happy. After all, everyone had paid a premium price to watch a football game, not a stray transgender fan in the stands. 

The only perceivable problem I was going to have was how much I could drink. I didn't want to chance going to the women's room if I could help it but I couldn't risk having to go during the long road trip home if I had to. So I compromised and just had two beers and made only one trip to the rest room where nothing happened. I got in, took care of business, washed my hands and got out. 

Per norm, the Bengals lost to the Steelers that night, so I took some abuse from the others in the group. Little did they know how just going was a complete victory and confidence builder for me and to this day, I can't thank Kim enough for including me.

These days, the Cincinnati Reds have a young exciting team who are fun to watch and my dream is to build myself up to the point where my wife Liz and I can see a game or two this summer. 

Outreach Week

 Unexpectedly, this week has turned into an outreach week for me. 

First of all, recently I virtually attended another Alzheimer's diversity council meeting. The rest of the council is all women so I fit in quite nicely. Every once in awhile, the moderator slips up and calls me "he" but not at all in the most recent meeting. Which was nice. As I always mention, the local Alzheimer's group reached out to me initially and I have been treated with the overall respect on occasion I never see in other groups.  So, if you are facing a dire health situation with a transgender or other LGB relatives when it comes to an ugly case of memory loss, don't hesitate to research your local Alzheimer's Association for help. My passion for this subject comes from the fact my Dad passed at the age of eighty six following a prolonged tragic bout with Dementia. Also, if you happen to be in the metro Cincinnati/Dayton Ohio area, feel free to reach out to me for more contact information.

My second outreach opportunity is coming up later in the week.  Again I was approached by a transgender friend to participate in a panel discussion which will  be held at the University of Cincinnati. It's called the "Transgender Wellness Event" and I am excited to be able to meet a majority college crowd and field any questions they may have about escaping their gender closets later in life. Like I did. It will be my first such opportunity ever and I am excited. Now I have to hope my wonky cell phone GPS gets me there in one piece since I am still fairly new to the tangle of streets which makes up the city and especially the university itself. I rely too much on my wife Liz, who is a native, to get me around. 

At this point, the weather forecast is good, so I still have not decided what I am going to wear. Plus I am thinking of (for the first time in my life) taking a cane with me in case it looks like I will have to walk a long way to make my way into the event itself. 

One way or another, I plan on making it into the venue and witnessing first hand what a portion of the college age students have to say about being transgender. Plus, just being available to be there and answer any questions is also very important in this day and age here in Ohio where we are in a constant battle for our trans rights. Being in a college setting, I don't expect much push back but I am prepared one way or another.

One never knows if getting out more will help me to get out again and explore the world as I used to. Even if I have to utilize a handicapped sticker and a cane.

Transgender Plan B?

A Bright Idea from Diego PH
on UnSplash

In life, did you ever have to come up with a new plan if the one you were working on didn't work?

In my life, I had many "Plan B's" because I didn't think things out before I did them. A prime example was when I was engaging in all the cross dressing I was doing in front of the mirror when I was very young. If the truth be known, I didn't know what I would do if I was caught. Except to lie and promise to never do it again. Plus, what if I was caught shopping for makeup in a downtown department store close to where my Dad worked. In the vacuum I lived in, I just plowed blindly ahead, hoping for the best and expecting the worst never happened. Which it never did.

I suppose I always thought there was a "Plan B" somewhere if I was discovered. Somehow I would magically give up on my dream and keep marching ahead in a male world. In reality or not, I always thought there had to be some sort of back up if I failed at anything. There was always going to be another chance to put on a dress and apply makeup if I was careful. 

The first time I encountered a situation where the only back up plan was applying myself in the system was when I enlisted in the Army during the Vietnam War to evade the draft. When I went through the human machine called basic training, the threat of failure was real. The drill sergeants made it clear if you failed at something you could be recycled back to the beginning and have to start all over again. No one wanted to face that "Plan B." The result of going through basic built my confidence in that if I was forced into a situation I certainly did not want to be, I could still survive. The main problem I had was I couldn't (of course) cross dress at all and had to put my gender issues aside. During the several years which occurred before I could indulge in cross dressing again, my back up plan was to do quite a lot of daydreaming about when I finished my military service and could resume my life as I had lived it before. 

When I did finish, I found myself needing a whole new set of "Plan B''s." What happened was, I started to go all out at Halloween parties dressed as a woman. Where I learned the basics of surviving in a new exciting world as I was slowly growing up as a novice transgender woman, which was my dream. Of course the problem was Halloween only came around once a year and what was I going to do the rest of the time about my gender dysphoria. What I decided to do was sneak out of the house and into the world as my new transgender self. When I did it, I needed plenty of "Plan B's" if I was caught. My rule of thumb was to be as careful as I could and deny anything which happened if I was caught by my second wife. Not the best plan. 

As my femininization presentation improved, I found I needed a whole new plan to survive in the world as my authentic self. Primarily I needed a way to communicate with women I was meeting who were curious why I was in their world. Initially, I tried to mimic who I was talking to as far as using their vocal pitch and then even moved on to taking voice lessons to sound more like a woman. Finally, I moved to a point where I was half way comfortable with the way I sounded and I did the best I could.

I am biased of course but I feel the back up plans we transgender women or trans men face are far more impactful than those of the average person. We trans folk often face the possibility of losing almost everything as the "Plan B" we have when we enter the world. All too often, I read the sad, tragic stories of trans women losing their entire families, jobs and even friends when they made their way out of the closet. 

Hopefully, in the future, society will come around and we won't have to rely on severe "Plan B's" to survive.

Life's Little Nudges

Image from James Lee
on UnSplash

In an extension of yesterday's post, there were many times when I needed a little push to keep going towards my dream of living a life as a transgender woman. 

Perhaps the first push I needed was I had to know if I could exist in the public's eye as a novice cross dresser (or whatever label you want to put on me) at all. It seemed everytime I left my closet, I was being laughed at or at the minimum stared at. It was during those dark days I waited on any rationalization to come along to justify what I was doing to myself was right. The light I saw at the end of the tunnel certainly seemed to be the train back then. 

Somehow, I kept dodging the train and relied on the least bit of gender euphoria I felt on occasion to propel me forward. One example was the short, flirty tennis style outfit I came up with to wear to the mall. I managed enough pizazz to generate admiring looks from many of the old men who were in the mall walking at the time. Back in those days, I didn't really understand what a true validation as a woman meant to me. I was still obsessed with appearance only.

Slowly I was nudged off my appearance pedestal by comments from my second wife such as I did not have any idea of what being a woman was all about. Since I had spent nearly all of my life to that point studying the women around me, I resented the fact she said it at all but even still, I set out to find out what she meant. Sadly, most of what I learned from her comments did not come until after she passed away. At that point, gender doors began to open for me and I was nudged through them. Finally, I paid enough dues to be allowed to play in the girls' sandbox. Where the real learning started. Slowly I survived having my sandcastles destroyed and sand kicked in my face by the mean girls and I moved on.

As my world widened and I actually learned I could make it in a transgender world, it seemed each night was a bigger and bigger push in the right direction. Destiny showed me a path and I took it. My small group of lesbian friends showed me how to validate myself without a man and secured once and for all my sexuality. I was living my dream and decided to take it a step forward by beginning gender affirming hormones. After all, at the age of sixty, if I was healthy enough, what was holding me back. It turned out nothing was except for a surprising reaction to the new femininizing hormones in my body. It was much more than a nudge when my breasts developed to a point where they were easily visible under all my old male shirts. All along, I thought the process would take longer but it didn't and it was time to come out to what was left of my family. 

The coming out process showed me both sides of coming out as a transgender woman in a male dominated family where I was supposed to be the patriarch. Because I was the oldest surviving man. My brother rejected me and my daughter accepted me is the short and sweet version I relate to so much here in the blog. 

Even though it was at times a very difficult and rough gender journey I went down, life's little nudges made my life anything but boring. In fact, it tended to be on the terrifying/exciting side.   

Trans Crisis Management

 

Image from the Jessie
Hart archives. From the Ohio 
State Student Union. 

Over the years as I went through the process of living my life as a transgender woman, I encountered many instances of crisis management. 

Some of the encounters were funny, some were anything but funny. Several come to mind as I write this post. Probably the most humorous account came at the ill fated expense of a water balloon I used as a breast form one night when I was going out to my regular venues I loved the feel of the balloons. They provided a realistic bounce and even matched my body temperature if I filled them with water of a certain temperature. Of course, as I was doing all of this, I knew how fragile my fake breasts would be. And, a night I remember well, it happened, one of my beloved water balloons broke sending water down my clothes. I was lucky in that I was headed from my seat at the bar to the rest room and had just made it to the safety of the women's room, if it was empty at the time. It was empty and it saved me from any rushed explanations of the water which I caused. The only crisis management statement I could come up with was I was pregnant and my water broke. What really happened was, I gathered my one breast self together and left the venue like nothing happened, then headed home determined to find another form of realistic breasts. 

The next  profound crisis management encounter I remember was one of the worst I ever have had. It happened in another venue I went to regularly. After consuming my usual amount of beer, I naturally needed to innocently use the women's room. When I did, I didn't notice the woman who came in after me and I should have. I saw her and an older woman  I perceived to be her Mom come in the door and pass nearby me at the bar. The older woman wasn't shy about glaring at me but kept on going, minding her own business. I should have known my relaxation would come back to haunt me because when I came out of one of the stalls in the restroom, I was confronted by the daughter. Out of the clear blue sky, she started screaming at me and began her tirade by calling me a pervert. 

At first, my fight or flight mechanisms kicked in and my first inclination was to vacate the rest room. Instead, my inner female kicked in and faced the red faced screaming woman. Somehow during her rant, I was able to learn she ran her own hair dresser salon. When she slowed down, I asked her for a business card so I could pass it along to a very influential local LGBTQ organization and naturally tell them about my negative experience with her. It worked because she abruptly stopped and left the rest room while I not so calmly washed my hands, checked my makeup and returned to my seat. The whole experience taught me to always be aware of my surroundings and other potential problem people in it. 

Of course, these two examples are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to dealing with our own brand of trans crisis management. From makeup and fashion  struggles when we first come out of the closet, all the way to unwanted government discrimination, we face it all. I am sure all of you have faced your own crises over the years. Maybe going back all the way to being caught cross dressing in your Mom's or sister's clothes when you were growing up. Surviving it all was the challenge while preserving our mental health. Sadly, with the extremely high rates of suicide in the transgender community, too many don't make it. In fact, we just had a local trans musician commit self harm and die last week. 

Crisis management with all of us just needs to be a priority. 

Transgender Ego Revisited

Image from Chloe (I think)

 Recently I received a comment from Amara concerning a post I did in 2011!

Unfortunately she was asking about a dress in a picture I used back then. I didn't know the answer for her. Plus I really don't know where the image came from. Back in those days, I didn't always give credit where credit was due. Which I regret now.

Some other regrets I have now looking back was the ego I needed to deal with when I first came out as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. I know for certain if I looked back at the overall subjects the blog covered, they were overwhelmingly centered on how I looked. Sadly, I suffered because I was still operating under the impression my male self thought I should look. And, how his ego was effected by how my trans self was treated. 

To make a long story short, her (my) experience wasn't always pleasant and I came home in tears It seemed the mirror was lying to me at every turn. Finally I went back to my cross dressing basics and changed my perspective on going out in the public's eye. As much as I hated to do it, I needed to admit my second wife was right about how I looked. Instead of being the "pretty, pretty princess" as she put it, I needed to learn to tone my look down so I could blend in with other women in the world. 

Ego-wise my outlook changed from emphasizing how my old male self thought I should look in public. Going from worrying what men thought of me, all the way to being able to better interact with the other women I met. Which became very important because the majority of people I met and interacted with were other women. I learned from them women have ego's too, just different from men. A couple times I learned the hard way not to interact too closely with another woman's man or boyfriend and  then needed to treat the claw marks in my back. 

I became a quick learner when it came to dealing with a new transgender world. In my girl's nights outs in learned how the women treated each other with no men around and then how they interacted when men were added in the evening. The change was dramatic. 

As much of a change as my feelings today versus 2011. I can't imagine or put into words all the changes I have gone through. Before I wrap up this post, I did manage to find the dress and image Amara was referring to. Just guessing but I wonder if the person was a candidate in a womanless beauty pageant which used to be prevalent in society and the South before the fervent anti-transgender attacks. Even though I wish I could say I would or could even wear that dress in the photo. it is certainly not me and never was. No matter how hard I tried.

As always, thanks to Amara and all of you who take the time to read and comment to all of my posts. Your input makes my efforts so worth while.   

Leaving me For Years

Image from Brock Wegner
on UnSplash

I become a little amused when someone thinks I overnight completed my gender transition from a fairly successful male to a struggling novice transgender woman. 

To put everything in perspective, it took me nearly half a century to figure out my gender issues and how I needed to deal with them. Perhaps you noticed I used the word needed and not wanted because deep down I knew I never had a choice in my life. My gender journey was pre-written for me and I just had to follow the script.

For me it meant dealing with years of extreme gender dysphoria which wrecked my life and several relationships along the way. It was an extreme struggle for dominance from the two binary genders which lived within me. Naturally, even though he wasn't happy or satisfied, my pre-destined male life just didn't want to give up all the male privileges' he had worked so hard to gain. While, on the other hand, my feminine side had to put up with the fact she felt so free and natural when she was let out of my gender closet. 

The struggle left me in a situation for years where I couldn't win. I was in some sort of a gender trench warfare when one side had a little success, the other side would come back to reclaim victory. Battles were won, purges were made but the war went on and on. First I tried to hide in the mirror but that didn't work when I began to escape into the world as a cross dresser. All of a sudden, I discovered I might be actually able to live a dream life as a transgender woman if I worked hard enough to do it. At that point, I sat out to take better care of myself and lost nearly fifty pounds so I could fit into the woman's fashions I so admired. Plus I started to take better care of my skin so my makeup was easier to apply and I looked more natural doing it. 

At that point, I tried to outrun my gender dysphoria the best I could by changing jobs and locations where I lived way too quickly. In a space of three or four years my second wife moved from our home in Ohio to the metro NYC area, back to a very rural area where we heated with wood and finally back home again. All I finally learned was I couldn't out run my problems. They all began and ended with my gender issues. 

Even with all the problems I mentioned, I still did not want to give up totally on my male self. In many ways, the life he had carved out from such a bleak beginning was just too comfortable. What happened then were the years I spent as a novice transgender woman. All of them were scary yet exciting times to live through. 

So no, my decision to leave the male world behind was not an overnight decision. It just turned out he was leaving me for years. 

A Transgender Inch Equals a Mile

Image from Jessie Hart Archives
Civil War Cemetery Cincinnati

Distances are often very blurry when it comes to beginning and pursuing a gender transition. 

The meaning wasn't lost on me when I began to remember what many of my more experienced dating male friends said when it came to discussing their girlfriends. The biggest complaint was when the guys gave in an inch with their women, the women took a mile. 

As I transitioned into the feminine world, often I thought the same thing about my inner girl self. Or, as soon as I cross dressed in front of the mirror, the more she wanted. Specifically, she wanted out of the mirror and into the world. Quite early, it meant making the trip to the mailbox to check to see if there was anything in the box. I so enjoyed the feel of the outside air on my freshly shaved, panty hose covered legs. 

What I discovered was as soon as I made the very short trip out of the door, my girl dreamed of doing more and more in the world. So much so, my entire life was effected to the point I would become very grumpy almost to the point of disorientation when I couldn't cross dress again. The whole process just didn't seem fair because I was doing the best I could with the very limited resources I was able to put together. Fashion was difficult to find for my rapidly growing body but I could manage to buy my own makeup with my very small allowance I earned plus the money I put together from having my own newspaper delivery route.

Through it all, I managed to get by when my inner trans self wanted to take an extra mile when I was giving her an inch. I thought it was some sort of a gender poetic justice when my male friends complained about their girlfriends and I knew exactly what they were talking about when I wasn't outwardly involved with a girl at all. 

It wasn't until much later in life when I could begin to give up more than just an occasional inch to my transgender self and discover all I was missing. More and more I was able to take the extra mile. Even though I was scared (or even terrified) to do it. Such as the first night I went to a "Fridays" bar/restaurant for a cocktail. I ended up sitting in the parking lot for a good thirty minutes checking my makeup before I gathered the courage to go in. Once I did, and began to breathe again, I was able to relax and enjoy myself.

At that point, I was very proud of myself and considered I wouldn't challenge my novice transgender woman for more. After all, I had just given her the mile she wanted and I thought she should be satisfied for awhile. Needless to say, none of that worked. Instead of going to the so-called gay venues she had been going to, she wanted more of the "Fridays" vibe she succeeded in. I found she could become a regular fairly easily by being friendly, minding her own business and above all, tipping well. All of a sudden, a new life was beginning. No matter how scared of it I was at the time. 

Perhaps the biggest transgender inch becoming a mile was when I started gender affirming hormonal treatment. In what seemed a very short period of time, my body femininized as well as my inner self. I was feeling more emotional than ever before in my life as the new hormones took effect. The whole process was close to running a record setting mile. 

All along, my old male self was fighting giving up every inch he could. Not wanting to lose his life and all he had worked for. It turned out, once I went all the way into an new exciting transgender world, he lost the battle and the victory belonged to my stronger half. My feminine self as she took the final mile.

Walking the Transgender Tightrope

 

Image from Johannes Plenio on 
UnSplash

I have never been accused of being coordinated at all which completely held me back when it came to me being able to participate in any sort of athletics except for football which often meant dealing with brute strength. 

Little did I know, I would have to develop my own sense of gender coordination to deal with my gender dysphoria. It turns out the better I became navigating the world as a novice transgender woman, the more balance I would need to survive in life. What happened was, the better I became with makeup and fashion, the more confidence I felt and in addition I was gaining the all important confidence to try more and more exciting yet terrifying experiences as my feminine self. 

Doing the more I could possibly hope for led me to trying to walk part of my life in my old male gender and part in my newer female one. My second wife even approved of a plan where I could have three days a week to leave the house dressed as a guy, go to a motel, cross dress as a woman and basically do whatever I wanted. Then dress back into my boring drab male clothes and come home. It didn't take long for me to become bored with this arrangement and I began slipping out of the house behind her back when she was working. Out of sheer willpower I needed to begin being more coordinated in how I was trying to run my gender conflicted life. There was really only one thing I knew for sure, I loved my feminine side and wanted to do more and more to let her out. 

Sadly, the whole process of trying to balance the two genders fighting for dominance within me was destroying my already bi-polar fragile mental health. I tried therapy and for years had only one therapist tell me the truth...there was essentially nothing I could do about wanting to transition into a transgender woman. I was what I was and I should accept it. Of course I wasn't smart enough to take her advice. I still wanted to save what was left of my long term marriage to my second wife while at the same time exploring what could be possible if I actually had the courage to transition into a fulltime world as a transgender woman. 

Finally, after falling off the tightrope more times than I can say, I could take the mounting gender pressure no longer and tried suicide as a solution. Just before my wife passed away from a massive heart attack, I thought I "purged" for the final time and got down from my tightrope. I grew a beard, gained a bunch of weight and overall was miserable but I gave it my best effort. 

I proved to myself I wasn't coordinated enough to navigate something complex enough as a gender tightrope and moved on to living a life as my authentic self. I am not one for regrets but if I allowed myself one, it would be I would have had the courage to transition earlier in life (before the age of sixty.) I would have saved myself so much time, effort and frustration as I attempted to balance my gender tightrope.      

Be Passionate

Image from Ian Schneider 
on UnSplash

When someone questions why I transitioned genders during my life, the main thing I want them to know my decision was not a choice. It was something I needed to do to save my own life. In that sense, I was selfish.

Perhaps, more importantly, the passion I needed to make it down my extremely bumpy, sometimes dark and gloomy gender path, I found I needed an extraordinary amount of inner fortitude to make it. More than I have ever used before in my life. In fact, I'm fond of pointing out, all I really wanted to be in life was a woman, not a doctor or lawyer. 

From that point forward, I knew I needed to follow a difficult path to achieve my feminine dream. To add insult to injury, I started from point zero with very few so called natural feminine appearances to help my cause. In other words, I had a long way to go to approximate looking like a girl and then later on as a woman. Plus, I needed to endure the onset of puberty and all the unwanted male changes testosterone poisoning was making to me. The whole process took an extra amount of passion to conquer by knowing deep down I was doing the right thing. Every time I suffered any sort of a set back, I needed to somehow pick myself up and get back in the game. Something I fought against doing in my male life. When anything bad happened to me, I knew I could run to my closet for a dress and makeup and everything would be all right. But what if I was already in a dress and makeup when the bad happened, what was next? 

What was next, was the chance to do my life better as a cross dresser or novice transgender woman. Being a novice trans woman was such a change for me over cross dressing, it required a whole new passion and learning curve. So many times, I found myself completely in over my head with no clear way on how I was going to find my way out. Somehow I did and knew I was on the right path. To define it more precisely, when I was a cross dresser, I felt as if my main goal was to look good as a woman and when I perceived myself as transgender I needed to be a woman...move better as one and communicate better in the world.

None of the process was easy for me, some of it still isn't to this day. Changing fifty plus years of striving my best to live as a man was difficult to change. More importantly, when the changes did occur with extended girls' time out with my friends happened, I craved more and more time with them. For the first time in my life, my passion was paying off. I remember vividly a Pride I went to in Columbus, Ohio with Kim, Nikki and Liz when we visited many gay and straight venues. With my tolerance to alcohol, I was having a great time and never wanted the evening to end.

I think now, what my friends may have seen in me was my passion shining through and it may have rubbed off on them. At least I hope so. 

These days, I do my best to lead with a smile when I see the world and hope for the best.

My Gender Clock never Stopped

Image from the Jessie Hart 
Archives. Ohio River in back
ground.

 Although it is difficult to remember my thoughts when I first viewed my girlish image in the hallway mirror growing up, I am certain I had a mixture of emotions. 

Probably, my biggest emotion was elation and from that point forward, something within clicked and a new gender clock was set and running. From then on I had a new goal and possibly a new life to consider. One of the things I needed to figure out was how deep my gender leanings were running. My young mind needed to consider was I just trying to look feminine or was there something much deeper going on. At that point, my clock dramatically entered the picture. Within a relatively short period of time, everytime I cross dressed, the "buzz" would wear off and I needed to try to sneak around and dress as a girl again and again. Something just wasn't right and my young mind was feeling it. Looking back, my clock issues with cross dressing could be easily explained away. I was in the earliest stages of considering I was transgender, which I ran from for most of my life.

As I grew older, I grew braver in my gender outlook and I began to search for ways to open my closet door and see the world. Sometimes I was successful and other times I wasn't. The successful times when I was able to negotiate the world as a novice transgender woman essentially set my gender clock forward a few minutes. When I wasn't, my clock was set back when I needed to head home and attempt to figure out what I was doing wrong. For some reason, I wasn't able to complete what was going on with my gender puzzle. On occasion, when my feedback was quick and brutal, my clock had more than it's shares of setbacks.

On the bright side, as hard as I tried to wreck my male life as I knew it, I was never successful as I searched desperately for my truth...could I really or ever live a life as a happy fulltime transgender woman. Since happiness was always difficult to define in my family growing up, I often wondered if gender was the missing ingredient for me to survive. 

Then there were the times I needed to put my gender clock on hold due to many major life changes such as going away to college and serving my time in the military. Essentially, again to survive, I needed a safe spot in the back of my head to store my clock until I could put it into use again. Thanks to several well attended Halloween parties I went to and tested out my prowess at being a novice transgender woman, I was able to set my clock forward to some sort of version of gender savings time. Because, at the same time I was watching the time, I was saving my life for the future. 

As I set the time forward, my life as a cross dresser became so intricate, I needed to seriously consider making a change. Finally, I came to the conclusion I was a woman cross dressing as a man and I needed to perceive myself in a different way. The different way involved me seriously considering if my gender clock wouldn't stop until I started to live more and more on the feminine side of life. At that point, my gender clock went into overdrive. I quickly started to develop a new life as a woman where very few people knew the old male me and I made the major decision to begin gender affirming hormones. 

Luckily, all this activity made my mental health better and my gender clock stronger. To this day, it has never stopped. Plus, if the world didn't like me, it was their problem, not mine.

In another side note, I received comments from "Sunshine Jen " and others on my health situation. So far I just found the main Cincinnati Veterans Hospital wants to take a further look at the spots on my head. So we are still in a wait and see place. Thanks for asking!

Somewhere between Heaven and Hell

 

Image from Sara Kurfess
on UnSplash

Very recently I received a comment from "J" asking me about my experiences coming out to my immediate family. After giving the comment some brief thought and I came up with this explanation, my coming out to family was somewhere between heaven and hell. 

To begin with, I had it relatively easy coming out since most of the important members of my family who needed to know anything about my transgender issues were not around. My parents, as well as many of my uncles and aunts had all passed away, leaving me only my daughter and my slightly younger brother to tell my truth to. 

The heaven and hell came in with both of these two close family members, it seemed as if destiny was showing me both sides of coming out. To begin with, I chose telling my daughter first at one of our breakfast meetings we often scheduled to catch up with our lives. One very nervous, scary morning, I chose to tell her I was indeed transgender. I will never forget her reaction which initially was a resounding why was she the last to know. Keep in mind by this time in her life, her Mom was long divorced from me and her Step Mom (my second wife) had recently passed away. So I guess she resented neither one of them telling her the depth of my gender issues. It certainly wasn't their fault because even though they knew I was a cross dresser or transvestite, even I resisted the idea of me possibly being transgender. In the meantime I was trying my best to hide any feminine desires I had from the rest of the world. Evidently, I did a good job and I was also amazed the cross dressing subject never came up with her. When she asked me why was she the last to know, I had no answer.

From then on, she gave me more support than I could have ever asked for. My daughter initially offered to take me on a shopping trip which I politely declined and then since my hair had magically grown to the point of being able to be professionally styled, she offered me a styling at her upscale spa and salon for my birthday. A gift I just couldn't turn down and after conquering my fears of going to the salon, I learned why women were so in love with their salon visits. I loved mine and I was in heaven. To the day, "J", my daughter has provided me with the heavenly acceptance I needed to make my male to female gender transition so much easier.

Now, the hell part comes in with my brother and his extended family. As luck would have it, I told my brother just before Thanksgiving over ten years ago. I wanted to know if it was OK if I attended as my authentic self or not. Before I asked out of respect, I knew the answer I would be given. My brother's in laws were all right wing leaning Southern Baptists, many of whom I always argued with during family get togethers. 

After some brief discussion with his wife, my brother sold me up the creek and said essentially it would be better if I did not attend the only family get together we planned for the whole year. The dinner was always the most important get together for my second wife and she did all the cooking a preparation for it for years after my parents passed away. So the rejection hurt a lot. I moved on quickly and haven't talked to my brother since. Which describes the end of my hellish experience of coming out to family.

Plus, I was lucky, I had my wife Liz and my daughter's extended family step in to fill the holiday void. And, I turned out better in the long term. 

I don't know, maybe destiny just wanted to show me the heaven and hell of coming out to family. While I didn't have the quantity of people to come out to as being transgender, I certainly was able to experience the quality of seeing both sides of the rejection/acceptance spectrum.

Thanks for the comment! I hope my experiences help. I value all your comments and questions! 

A Rare Night Out with Family

 

Image from
the Jessie Hart
Archives

After my appointment with my veterans doctor, I forgot my wife Liz and I had agreed to meet up with her son for a rare night out at our favorite Mexican restaurant. 

It was welcome news for me for several different reasons. First of all, the evening was a chance to get out of the house again and experience the world. I spend way too much time in the house. Liz has been encouraging me to get out during the day when she works and  I could write my blog posts and even might encourage me to begin work again on my second book, which I have long put off. So I take responsibility for at least not taking our laptop to a nearby library to write. The move would help me to re-improve my makeup skills as I get out in public again.

Secondly, yesterday, since I had already applied a light amount of makeup for my doctor's appointment at the Veterans Administration, I would just have to lightly update it for my evening out with Liz and her son. Being the basically lazy person I am, it gave me time to catch up with an afternoon nap I need because I am old.

Before we left for the restaurant, Liz and her son had the time to catch up on life, not to mention when we arrived at the restaurant and were seated. The venue is very casual and I even didn't need to change clothes except to add a light fleece jacket/top my daughter gifted me for my last birthday. We had major storms pass through the night before which killed three people not too far away from us in central Ohio and dropped the unseasonably warm spring temperatures we had been experiencing. So the fleece was a welcome addition to my wardrobe. Once we arrived, I noticed the venue was almost full, including many families, which normally is good for me not getting noticed as a transgender woman, just another customer. When I did, gender euphoria set in for me.

Dinner was enjoyable, the food was great as well as the company, the server was just interested in getting us served and on our way, so he did not pay me any extra attention one way or another. Which again was a good thing.

Certainly, getting out again was good for my mental health and well being. Can't wait to do it again. Unfortunately our upcoming appointments are with our doctors. It will be interesting to me to see how the dermatologist's perceive the skin growth I have on my face. It could be nothing or something they are concerned about such as cancer. Which of course concerns me deeply. But I will cross that bridge when I come to it.

Another Trip to the Doctor

Image from the Jessie Hart Archives

Today, I needed to go to a follow up appointment to the  doctor's office. 

You regulars know, I am a transgender veteran and take advantage of the Veteran's Administration health care system. I know over the years, I have heard from many trans vets with differing ideas on how they were received in the system. 

During the earliest days in the system (approximately ten years ago) I felt as if I was the teacher in the system and that most all of my providers knew nothing about trans people at all. Fortunately, over the years my perceived ideas of how I was treated started to change. So much so, the Cincinnati metro VA hospital as a whole began to solicit ideas on how they could improve their service to the LGBTQ community, especially the trans population they serve. It worked, because I saw a big improvement in even the most backward sattelite clinic I had ever been to. Which happened to be the closest to me.

In the past, it is the clinic where a receptionist basically out and out refused not to call me sir. It was so bad, I was almost to the point of filing an official complaint if she was still there when I went back, which she wasn't. I haven't seen her since and everyone else has been nice to me. To be clear, there are several ways of respect I expect to be shown. One of which is to use no gender markers what so ever when it comes to referring to me such as "he or she or sir or ma'am." Or just refer to me as my first name which is cool also.

This morning all went well with everybody except with one person. The receptionists I checked in and out with didn't mis-gender me at all and were very pleasant as was everybody else. So much so, one of the dermatologists who was checking a spot on my face complimented me on my makeup. In addition, my actual appointment with my primary provider went off as it usually does...very well and she treated me with respect. 

The only problem moment came (and there always seems to be one) was when I was being escorted into what I call the vampire's home, where I had my blood labs taken. Primarily because my endocrinologist always wants to see a reading of my estradiol levels.  When we entered the room, she announces me as "Mr. Hart." I was quickly shocked when she did so but I recovered in a hurry and corrected her and she changed her greeting to "Ms.  Hart" which I was satisfied with.

The most important point of course is how all the labs and reports come back on my health. As far as the spot on my face goes, they took pictures to send down to the main Cincinnati VA hospital for them to take a look at. The results probably will take a couple days to come back. 

I have always said, my most precious possession is my health and how I am treated as a transgender woman is just icing on the cake.  

Saving my own Life

 

Image from the 
Jessie Hart Archives

As I began to transition into a transgender life in earnest, the more and more I knew I was saving my own life.

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, all the obstacles I conquered on the gender path I was on just made my entire life more complex. Every time I met a stranger and established myself as a transgender woman to them was a new exciting time but not one which had it's share of fear. After all, I was losing all my well secured male privileges I had worked so hard to have. As a guy, I knew how to react to almost any situation negative or not. As a trans woman, I was in a different world and still had so much to learn. When I was first confronted with losing part of my so called intelligence in a group of men I somehow found myself in, I knew then my life had forever changed. I discovered the men just wanted to ignore me and my thoughts on what they were discussing.

In order to save my life, I needed to adopt what the other women in the world around me were doing. In many ways, they ignored men the same way men ignored women and it became very evident to me why the two main binary genders had a difficult time communicating. I was lucky because after my male upbringing, I had many of the tools to understand what men were really saying. While, at the same time viewing their comments from a woman's viewpoint. Even though the whole concept seems so easy for me to grasp now, back then, I really needed to understand which side of the gender fence I was on since for the longest time I tried to live in both a female and male world.

Soon, I found myself in a gender pressure cooker. On one hand, I had all the male positives to live by which I had learned to expect. On the other hand, the new and exciting (but scary) feminine side of life was increasingly opening gender doors for me. Since I was beginning gender affirming hormones, my world became a softer more sensitive place to be in. The ripping and tearing of my reticence to make a final decision on how I was going to live was slowly but surely destroying me. I was stuck in a gender world never never land which I would not wish upon my worst enemy and I needed to get out and save my own life.

It's no secret what decision I finally made. With the help of several close women friends, I donated all my men's clothes to a thrift store and never looked back. I equate the entire process with jumping off a huge cliff, then having a soft landing in a feminine world. It was difficult, yet it saved my life by making life fun again while at the same time restoring my mental health. 

Saving my own life never felt so good.    

Climbing Transgender Walls

 

Image from Katherine Hanlon
on UnSplash

Just when I thought I had conquered one obstacle in my gender transition, another obstacle suddenly appeared for me to climb.

The problem I had was I am very afraid of heights and some of the walls were taller than others. For example, makeup was not a big wall since I had so many years at home alone in front of the mirror to practice. By the time I went public, I had perfected most all the makeup ideas I needed. Plus, benefiting completely from having a professional makeover at one of the transvestite/cross dresser mixers I went to. The makeup artist really showed me how to scale the wall which on occasion had made me look like a clown.

At approximately the same time, I was fighting climbing another obstacle called fashion. For years I dressed my feminine self for what my old male self thought was appropriate  The whole process was completely backwards as I should have been trying to present as close as I could to other women of my age so I blended in. Once I scaled the obstacle, my life as a novice transgender woman in public became so much easier. Once my life became easier, I thought I had it made but I was so wrong. What happened was gender doors began to open for me I wasn't really ready for. I found it was much easier for me to move around in society as my feminine self than it was to actually sit down and have a conversation with another woman or man. Communication for me was a huge wall to climb. So much so, I even ended up taking vocal lessons at one point in my life to sound like a woman. 

As I write this post on walls, it occurs to me, I should have added in all the stop signs I went through on my path to living as a fulltime transgender woman. Coming to mind were all the times my male self was screaming stop!!! when his domain was being challenged. All the times, I put my marriage at risk by sneaking out behind my wife's back when she was at work is an example of running a stop sign just to try to climb another gender wall. What I was doing was slowly but surely building a way around the old male obstacles I faced, to build a new life as a transgender woman. At that point, if I had been honest with myself, I would have known my new life felt so natural, it would win out in the end. But, I wasn't honest and boxed myself into what was left of my male life which I had hated so much.

Finally, the world around me changed because of dire situations where family and friends had died leaving me the freedom to climb the final walls out of my gender closet. I came to the point where I had the tools I needed to conquer my fear of existing in public as a trans woman thanks to gender affirming hormones and pure courage to live. 

The walls I kept facing kept declining to a point where I had no choice but to do the right thing for myself and go ahead to live my lifetime dream of living as a woman. Looking back, maybe I should have described all the obstacles or walls I went through were more of a maze. Maybe I should have paid more attention in the scouts or the military to find myself an easier way through. Although, after communicating with all the other transgender women and trans men I do, maybe an easier way just wasn't possible. 

Making it all Effortless

Image from the Jessie Hart Archives

When I decided to go all out and attempt to go public as a novice transgender woman, I found I had plenty to do before I go conquer the world as my authentic self. 

Reversing all I had learned to try to fit in to an unwanted male world proved very difficult to accomplish. Even more so when I learned I needed to make the gender transition seamless and effortless if I was to survive. The first problem I had to beat was getting myself out of my mirror. Just posing in my spare time cross dressed as a woman wasn't getting it anymore. Deep down, I knew I needed more if I was going to survive in my scary new world.

As I attempted to put my new feminine self into focus in the real world, I knew I needed to put away all my deeply ingrained male mechanisms. The prime example was doing away with my permanent leave me alone scowl on my face. I needed to replace it with a softer, kinder gentler look. I needed constant reassurance from myself to make it happen. Primarily because I didn't want anyone approaching me. I found out the hard way my methods were completely unfeminine and I was coming off as a bitch or worse yet, a miserable mean human being. I even was called a big mean woman in a clothing store one day by a little girl, so I knew I needed an immediate change.

The second most profound change I needed to make was how I moved as a transgender woman. Of course, it is no big secret women move differently than men and even though any added dimensions to my hips and butt were due to foam padding, I still had to practice overtime to accentuate my new figure. What I resorted to was trying to practice every second when I thought I was alone trying to walk like a woman. The problem I always encountered was everytime I thought I had put the total package together of makeup, hair and fashion and put the movement with them, I needed to go back to my male world and try to forget the whole thing. Through it all, I became very frustrated. I was having real problems making my whole feminine image effortless. 

Even still, I continued to make it a priority and finally began to see improvement in how I was perceived in the world as a transgender woman. I know, athletes call it "muscle memory" when they repeat a motion over and over again until they get it right and that is exactly what I needed to do. I started to look the public in the eye when I communicated with them and paid attention to what they were saying to me. By doing it, I was able to more precisely tell is someone was reacting negatively to me because I was trans and then what could I do next time to improve my presentation. 

Making it all effortless, did take a great amount of work but it was what I needed to do to accomplish my goal of leading a life as a transgender woman. Plus, I could not have done it without closely observing all of the women around me and the many ways they reacted to the world.    

What is Holding you Back?

My Hair. Beaded Trans Hair Clip
by Liz T Designs on Etsy

If you are still in your gender closet, tentatively looking out, what is holding you back is a big question. 

By now you are thinking there are very many big variables holding you back from leaving your closet behind and living as your authentic self. Examples include the possibility of losing spouses and or family, jobs and finances and even your home. Any way you cut it all the chances are major losses which can become lifetime setbacks. Been there, done it. 

The worry concerning all of the variables I mentioned kept me in the closet for over a half a century so I am no stranger to having one foot in my closet for years. It is the one big regret in life I have is I spent so much time and energy on my gender issues. In addition to losing portions of my life I could never get back, the whole time I was engaged in a terrible struggle with my mental health which I attempted to resolve with medication and therapy. Not to mention the time and money I spent trying to over medicate myself with alcohol. Many times when I was drinking, I felt over confident with how I was appearing to the public when I flipped my cross dressing script (in reality I was a woman cross dressing as a man) and went out in public thinking I was a man cross dressed as a woman. It took me years to figure it all out.

My excuse was I was still experiencing some sort of benefits from keeping one foot planted firmly in my male life. I had a good marriage, a loving daughter and a job with increased potential. In other words, I was living a very good example of the ideal male dream. The problem was becoming the more I gained, the less I liked the idea of what I was doing. But, even still, it was enough to hold me back as I dreamed of the possibility of someday living a life as a fulltime transgender woman. 

As with any thing else, success often comes with pressure and I was feeling it from several different sources. At the time my second wife was against any idea of me beginning a transgender path on gender affirming hormones, my job was adding pressure to do better continually and make the company more money. At the time, the pressure became so much I couldn't take it anymore and I tried the suicide I write so much about. I tried to take an overdose of my bi-polar medication and it luckily didn't work. 

From there I tried to retreat and live again totally as a man and bought my own restaurant. Both ideas turned out to be a total failure as my close friends and my spouse all died around me. All of a sudden, with nothing to lose, I found myself with nothing holding me back from my transgender dreams. I had reached the age of sixty and really was at a crossroads again in my life. I could go on living an unhappy male existence or begin a life I always wanted. 

For once I took the right path and started hormones so there would be no turning back in my decision. Plus, I wasn't getting any younger, so the time was right for me to make the jump off my gender cliff and see what happened. It turned out, the only thing holding me back was myself and the fear I head of rebuilding a new life as a transgender woman. Even though I thought I had completely thought out all the possibilities of such a move, it turned out there were many I didn't consider which is a topic for another post I will be writing soon.   

 

Sexuality .The Great Divide

Image from Jack Lucas Smith
on UnSplash

 It is no big secret men are more insecure in their sexuality than women. Many to the point of being toxic in their approach. I think the toxicity is the reason for the uptick in violence against all women, transgender or not. 

When I transitioned out of my old unwanted male world into a new scary exciting feminine universe, I wondered if my sexuality would or have to change. For me, it meant giving up on my long held belief I was NOT a gay male. God forbid if I wasn't . Somehow I never the connection of dressing up as a girl with wanting to be with a man sexually. Even to the point when I finally understood I wanted to do more than just look like a woman, I wanted to be one. To be honest, the sexuality scared me more than anything else about my MtF gender transition. Could I have been wrong my entire life about my attraction to women? 

Very early in my transition I was "coached" by friends such as Amy on how to practice being with a man by using a banana. While I appreciated the advice, I never really decided to think about a banana the same way again. Plus, since I was living a whole new lifestyle, who was to say I needed to live it a certain way. After all, there were many lesbians I knew who would disagree with me or anyone about  needing a man to validate their existence. Since so many had told me I shouldn't or couldn't change my gender, what was one more idea to shatter. 

Still, I wasn't sure on how to proceed when I decided to leave the fragile world of men who were secretly struggling with their own sexuality and build a new one for myself. It meant entering a time of experimentation for myself. First I searched high and low on dating sites for a man who happened to live close by and wanted to try to date me. To put it mildly, I failed miserably when I was completely upfront about being transgender. Almost all of them saw me as only a fetish sexual object. They wanted to skip the dating aspect of meeting me in a public venue and go straight to a motel room. When I refused, most all of them would have nothing to do with me.

On the other hand I discovered women did not feel the same way about me. Curiosity I believe led most of the women I met to find out more about me when I went out to many different venues. It all made my life fun and exciting again. Of all people, I found many accepting lesbians who I could socialize with. As I always say, they taught me so much about being a woman who could stand on her own. Once again, my sexuality became secure again without having to make any drastic changes.  No bananas for me except to add to my ice cream sundaes. When I was with my close knit group of lesbian friends, I could watch the fragile world of men from afar as I relied on my  previous experience as a guy to let me in on what they were feeling. Which was probably the biggest reason men didn't trust me. I knew too much. 

By living a transgender lifestyle, I was able to observe the sexuality of both of the primary binary genders. I came away knowing I made the right decision. Destiny led me the right direction. I obviously nothing against the male gay community but it just wasn't for me. I was correct in believing women were the most secure gender when it came to accepting any variations in their sexuality and men are the most fragile.

The Blue Coat

Image from the 
Jessie Hart
Archives...

Many years ago I frequented a wholesale coat store which seemingly carried an endless inventory of women's coats including many in my size. Which was rare.

I used to make the store a regular stop on my circuit of favorite places to haunt looking for a coat I could not afford. Even at the store's sale prices, finding one would still be a struggle.  One day I was there was an extra special day when I saw and then slipped into a powder blue wool lined three quarter length coat. Once I tried it on, it was lust at first sight. It seemed to fit in perfectly with my honey blond shoulder length wig I was so fond of. 

The problem I had was one of the usual ones many of us encounter as novice cross dressers or transgender women have, And, where is the money coming from for our new fashion discoveries and would the new fashion really be worth it in the long run. At that time, I was still struggling to hide any extra money I could from my wife who was a trained book-keeper and kept track of our finances. If I was going to my usual thrift store, it was easy to hide my limited expenditures from her and not be afraid of making a huge fashion mistake. If I did, I could simply take the item back and let someone else make the same error without losing much money in the process. 

This time though, as much as I wanted to, I couldn't leave the thoughts of how great it would be to be able to buy the cherished blue coat. In desperation, I kept going back to the store and then modeling it in front of one of the many mirrors. At one point, I wondered if I was parading the coat so much that someone would finally notice me and tell me to buy the coat or leave it alone. Luckily, that never happened but on the other hand I was never able to get together enough cash to purchase the blue coat and make it my own. Plus I had no idea where I would be able to hide it where my wife would never notice.

During this point of my life, I was completely entranced or obsessed with looking like a woman. Particularly a well dressed professional transgender woman in a mall or restaurant. My wardrobe at the time included a black silky pantsuit I loved as well as a pale green jacket I paired with a matching mini-skirt and kitten heels. Those were the days of colored opaque pantyhose and I even managed to find a pair of hose which also matched my outfit perfectly. 

Ironically, when I look back to a decade or so ago when I started this blog thanks to urging on from friends such as Connie, I can't believe how much I have changed. In the early days, I still believed being a success as a potential transgender woman was just looking the part. As I progressed I learned I was so naïve and I was looking ahead at so many layers of learning what it really meant to come out as my authentic feminine self. Leaving the mirror behind and entering the world was terrifying and extremely challenging at the same time. All the years I spent studying the women around me helped but I discovered it was only the beginning. 

Through it all though, I still remember how much I wanted that blue coat and wonder if I would have continued to cherish it as much as I did in the beginning for years. Or, similar to so many other lustful encounters in my past, it would have lost it's newness and just fade away.    

International Womens Day

 

Image from Joeyy Lee on UnSplash

As International Women's Day rolls around again, it is always worth mentioning how transgender women fit in the the group of women at large.

Of course, there is a group of "TERF's" or transphobic cis-gender women, who feel we trans women should be outright excluded from any sisterhood. Shame on them for their narrow minded ideas. It has always seemed to me, the more the merrier in how the feminine population is perceived and should be important to all women. Especially now with all the attacks on women's reproductive rights by Republican politicians across the country. Bottom line is diversity in how women hood is achieved should be celebrated not restricted. 

Which brings me to one of my favorite points concerning womanhood and how it is earned not just given at birth. Even though many women are born female, it doesn't mean they necessarily ever go through the process of becoming women and the same can be certainly said for men. As a transgender woman, I feel I have had to follow a gender path which has led me to my own particular brand of womanhood. So I should be included as much as the next person in "Women's Day." One day in the past I was when I was chosen to participate in a photo shoot celebrating the diversity in all women, not just the classical beautiful ones. Even though the album wasn't chosen to advance to a competition  in Chicago, I was thrilled to be a part. But that wasn't all.  

In my journey, I have been fortunate to have experienced many more positive feminine role models than negative ones who aided me in my journey. Many were lesbians who brought their own brand of being women with them since primarily showing me I didn't need a man to be validated in the world. I could stand alone and make it. On the other hand, I had other women around me who built their lives around children and family and I learned from them also how to further cherish what I had with my marriage to Liz and relationship with my daughter and her grandkids. Especially when my oldest grandchild decided to carve out a non-binary gender path of their own. All of a sudden, I was a role model on how to be brave enough to pursue a life outside the normal gender boundaries. Primarily since I never pursued any gender realignment surgeries, I still deep down knew who I was and needed to make changes  to live my truth.

Also, I don't understand why most all women don't accept trans women on "Women's Day" or any other day to speak of. After all. we have spent time on the other side of the gender fence and decided we did not or could not live there. I have discovered though many more women than men have embraced my change. Men especially are very fragile in their sexuality and have a tendency to ignore me while women are just the opposite.   

If you are still working your way out of your closet into the world and are wondering how you fit into "Women's Day", rest assured you are in the learning process and the day is for you too. When you look at all the young women being educated and starting their own businesses, the future is certainly female and we are certainly in the right group. 

Transgender Assimilation

 

Image from the Jessie
Hart Archives...

This morning I went to the Veterans Administration local clinic to have my hearing checked and make an appointment in the future with my primary provider (family doctor). 

When I arrived, both waiting rooms were over half full, so I had no choice but to assimilate myself with the other people after I checked in with the receptionist. Ironically, in the past at this clinic was when I was blatantly mis-gendered by a woman who I don't think is no longer there. Even though I corrected her twice, she managed to call me sir three times. It was so bad, I almost filed an official complaint because the VA at the time was making a serious effort to discover how transgender veterans were being treated. I didn't and she is gone and this morning the receptionist did her job correctly. 

The next big step came when I was called back to the room where the hearing test was being administered. Since the three or four previous people (all men) in the waiting room, when they were called back, a "Mister" was attached to their name. Not to worry. This time, I was referred to by name with no gender marker. From then on the appointment went well. The audiologist was very nice and commented on how long and nice my hair looked. Plus, probably the best part was my hearing had not deteriorated much at all since it was checked two years ago. So for now, hearing aids are out. 

Since I went all out with my new makeup this morning to present my best face to the world, I hoped walking past a full waiting room on the way out would not present any problems. I also decided to wear a rather form fitting outfit consisting of a sweater and leggings. Rather unusual for the normal VA waiting room nearly full of men with very few women. So I was trying my best to not get clocked as anything other than an attractive woman out running her errands

My next in person visit has been scheduled for a week from now and it will be a much more serious deal. I am going to schedule having blood done for my psych meds as well as a possible decrease in my kidney function. Plus, I am having an possible skin issue with a spot on my forehead. Just guessing but they most likely have to have it checked. I suppose the whole deal is just part of being old.

Most of my advanced medical paranoia comes from when and if one of my doctors recommends I decrease my gender meds to help my blood work improve. I need to jump off that bridge when I come to it.

In the meantime, today went well for me as I was able to assimilate myself into the world as a transgender woman. I even was able to experience a little gender euphoria at the coffee shop I stopped at on the way home when I was treated with a big smile from the guy at the counter. Life is good.

As we all know, assimilation is so important for every transgender woman or trans man in todays often challenging political world. Often it takes us many years with our gender dysphoria to gather the confidence to become comfortable in our own gender skins. Undoubtedly a topic for another post.