Gender Lighthouse

 

Image from Juan Gomez
on UnSplash.

As I grew older and more in touch with my possible transgender womanhood, it often seemed to me to be a distant light at sea in my life. 

In fact, I equated my brief encounters with gender euphoria as moments in time when I was hopelessly adrift in a huge sea of life around me. I was rowing my little boat as fast as I could against a strong current, I mostly did not understand. Long ago, my gender notebook had been washed overboard, leaving me on my own to understand a new and exciting feminine world. 

As I was stuck rowing in circles in my shrinking male world, faintly in the distance, I could see a lighthouse which would ultimately show me the way to gender freedom. As I kept on against all odds, the light grew brighter. The entire ordeal was difficult, and I needed to battle tons of self-destructive behavior on my part to just survive at all.

Plus, through it all, my mental health suffered terribly. Since I was already diagnosed as being bi-polar, the last thing I needed was gender dysphoria to worsen my condition. Worse yet, I tried to self-medicate my problems with too much alcohol. Which ultimately caused me to lose my way more dramatically and take more self-destructive chances. I was taking my eyes off the lighthouse, and it was fading away in the distance. Just in time, I was able to regain my equilibrium and was able to set my eyes firmly on the light again.

I was able to get out of my boat and try the world at its best and worst. As I said, my feminine workbook long ago disappeared and I had to go it alone. As I mentioned in my last post, out of sheer good fortune, I was able to work my way out of potentially dangerous situations when I could have hit the rocks in my little fragile boat. I reacted to the experiences as surviving points on my gender learning curve. I resolved to learn from each one and keep my eyes on the light which was slowly becoming brighter. Maybe, I could achieve my dream of transgender womanhood after all. 

For a long time, the person who kept the key to my dream was my second wife who told me on occasion to me to be man enough to be a woman and being the pretty, pretty princess just was not going to be enough to make it. The problem was, she made me figure out what she meant, and it took me years to do it. I needed to wait until I had rowed to shore on the feminine side of the beach and found my way behind the gender curtain by learning lessons cisgender women grow up understanding from lifelong lessons. Or the pretty, pretty princess better learn how real women live in a world they control. I started to dress to blend in with other women on one hand and how I lost intelligence in my conversations with men on the other. Very quickly, I grew tired of being "mansplained" on the very simplest of topics. 

Once I found the lighthouse and made it to shore, the hard work started, and I needed to learn how to communicate with the world, one on one. Nothing told me, my communication efforts would be mainly with the women I met in the world as most men mainly left me alone. I knew most of the women started the conversation because they were curious what I was doing in their world. I did not really care because I was learning what I needed to know to keep my boat on the gender beach. 

Thanks to the world of women I encountered, I found the lighthouse at the end of my search and was able to find my way in a new world as a transgender woman.