The Double Edged Gender Sword

Image from JJ Hart. Wife Liz on left.

The longer we live as transgender women and trans men, often we find many aspects which represent a double edged sword. 

One of the edges of the sword has to be the duress we feel when at first we arrive in public for the first time. To make matters worse, we have no peer group to help us out of the mirror to be judged by the harsh eyes of the world. No one to tell us we looked clownish as we tried the makeup arts for the first time. I can't tell you how many times I hurried home in tears following being stared at at the least, or laughed out of a venue at the worst.

From it all, I learned to develop a thick skin and always go back to the drawing board as quickly as I could to help solve any presentation problems I might have had. Even when I was doing it, the cross dresser drawing board was certainly difficult to figure out. What happened was, I used the very brief moments of gender euphoria I earned and moved forward attempting to tightrope my way along the sharp edge of my sword. I was risking ridicule at the least and the loss of family, friends and employment at the worst. Failure as a transgender woman was a very real pressure.

Once I began to learn how to present in public more effectively as a transgender woman, I began to use my sword more effectively.  Then the world became much more comfortable for me in my quest to live my femininized dreams. In addition, my makeup arts became better as well as my use of hair to enhance my appearance. 

It bares mentioning also, going through the overall transgender experience, made me a more resilient person and set up to battle the more challenging times we face. I learned in my research transgender folk have always been around and always will be, no matter who tries to erase us. Battling the sword all these years helped me be more secure in my transgender identity. 

In all fairness to my sword, it started out very dull. I worked long and hard to sharpen it by going out in public which was the best indicator of my progress.  So I took all the good and bad and did the best I could with it. All my interaction with the public included the dark evenings when red-necks repeatedly kept playing "Dude Looks Like a Lady" on the juke box in a venue where I was a regular. Since management at the time would not support me, I left to find another venue and took my money elsewhere. I was rewarded months later when an employee from the venue I was discouraged from coming to, found me in another venue and invited me back. To make matters even better, the manager who would not back me up was fired for drug use. Excluding a stray bigoted woman in the woman's room, I never had any further problems there again.

Once my gender sword swung back into doses of gender euphoria, I began to appreciate all it had done for me. Transgender womanhood was finally mine to enjoy when I learned I was not a quitter and was in my transition for the long haul.