It's All in the Eyes

Sad Eyes
Image from
the Archives.

Over the years, my eyes have helped me out in many ways.

Of course there is the obvious reason such as the blessing of eyesight but then, life steps in- very importantly for a cross dresser or transgender woman trying her best to improve her makeup art. For me at least, the hardest part of conquering the mystery of makeup  involved making up my eyes. At the time, I equated it with applying paint to the plastic model  cars I was fond of building because I struggled with both. Ironically, at the age I was at, I am fairly sure my Mom would have did her best to forbid any use of makeup at all by the daughter she never knew she had. 

Still I persisted and grew more proficient with buying then applying my eye makeup, The availability of all the colors fascinated me. Along with the chance to match colors up with my limited fashion choices I was capable of finding. It was close as I could come to all the girls around me who I admired so much. 

Fast forwarding many years, my eyes continued to be a focal point in my makeup art. I had learned along the way women communicate through the eyes in many ways. Much more than men who rely on vocal cues. I knew as I transitioned into transgender woman, I was on the right path with my makeup techniques. All the years I put into my art was worth it.

Perhaps the most rewarding feedback I received from my eyes came from my wife Liz. For all the wrong reasons. We met on line when she responded to a post I listed as woman seeking woman. Keep in mind I immediately pointed out I was a transgender woman. Thankfully, none of my gender issue mattered to Liz and she said she was attracted to me because I had sad eyes. If the truth be known, during that part of my life, I did have sad eyes. Over the past two or three years before the picture, I had just gone through very dark portions of my life. Primarily due to death of my second wife and four of my closest friends, mainly to cancer. Along with the loss of my business, I had lost nearly all the self confidence I had ever had in myself. In fact, the only concrete thing I had to grasp onto was my identity as a trans woman. 

Regardless of my sad eyes, my girl self became my deepest passion. In many ways, just to get by, I needed to become a deeper researcher of women. Instead of becoming my father's son which I had chased for many years, I became my mother's daughter she never wanted, to my knowledge. The gender guilt I felt was only grief with no where to go. 

Led by my eyes when I communicated with other women, I found my way out of the darkness of life I was in and regained my confidence. Even though it was a different confidence than I had ever felt before. My confidence as a transgender woman was a hard earned quality which went all the way back to the days when I was struggling with makeup and shaving my legs when I was a kid. Living and learning was always an exciting experience. Even in the days when I was a dismal failure in the world. Somehow, deep down, I knew I was doing the right thing by pursuing a life as a trans woman. 

It was always in the eyes, I just had to learn how to use mine. They were such an important part of my life when it came to communicating with other women. Perhaps it is true when it is said your eyes are the window to the soul.