Mountain of Hope...Mound of Ash

 

Image from JJ Hart

On occasion when I was following my very long path to transgender womanhood, I did experience enough hope to keep moving forward towards my ultimate goal of living a fulltime feminine life. 

Those were the days I was on top of the world and felt good about my life as a whole. Sadly, too many times my dreams were crushed mainly with me making poor gender decisions. Those were the nights I returned home with tears in my eyes following brutal interactions with the public. I was at the least stared at and at the worst laughed at to my face. Since I had only the mirror to blame for lying to me, I needed to find a better way to improve my presentation as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. 

Really, the only recourse I had was to keep going out hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Very gradually, out of sheer will power, I did become better at my craft and my confidence grew. I was climbing my mountain of hope and staying there. Sadly, my only mound of ash came when I was discovered by my second wife when I was returning home after a night out. Predictably a massive fight would happen, and feelings would be hurt. It wasn't until years later when I finally had the courage to face my gender truth and finally transition. By that time my wife had passed away and it was a moot point. Following her passing, I found I had another mountain to climb. 

My mountain was one of loneliness. For the first time in over twenty-five years, I was by myself with only my two dogs to take care of. No other person to worry about disappointing with all of my gender adventures. It did not take me long to decide which direction to go with my life. My inner feminine soul was screaming to be let out and for once there was nothing to restrain her. She was my woman, and I was her.  With new enthusiasm, I began to climb again. Sure, there were still setbacks and problems with my new life. A primary example was when I tried to date men and was constantly stood up on potential dates. Fortunately, when I began to be accepted by lesbians, I found I did not need a man to be validated as a woman. 

When I climbed my gender mountain, I began to begin too clearly see what was going on around me. As all the clouds and doubt parted and I could see there was only one path for me to pursue. I finally gave up on my male self, gave away all his clothes, started gender affirming hormones and never looked back. 

When I finally freed myself up to be me, I never had felt better. It was a huge weight lifted off my shoulders which I had carried way too long. Since I am afraid of heights, climbing my gender mountain was never easy but I made it.