Painting Myself into a Corner

 

Image from UnSplash.

I was always an adequate house painter and not much more.

Possibly my biggest problem was ever finishing a project. Every time I would start, I got bored and quit before the project was done. There were even times when I would unknowingly paint my way into corners. Little did I know, all of this would carry into my life as a cross dresser and later a transgender woman.

Like many of you, I started experimenting with my mom’s clothes which I became attracted to at a young age. It was most likely a carryover from watching mom (and admiring) put on her “face” or makeup as she called it. I wanted to see how the whole girl package worked for me. At that point, I began to place myself in danger of painting myself in a corner I could not get out of. The corner I am referring to is being caught and facing irreplaceable damage to my life as I knew it in a male dominated family. As the oldest son, I was expected to carry on a macho tradition.

The problem was of course I did not want anything to do with male tradition because I was enjoying my alone time cross dressing as a girl so much. I worked onward on my feminine artwork, as I sought to buy my own makeup and pantyhose from my allowance and newspaper route money. Then I experimented with my limited time until I became a little bit better and did not look like a clown in drag. I was slowly finding my voice as a transfeminine woman.

The more I discovered, the more I risked painting myself into a corner. When I was in the corner, sometimes I paused to look around for a reality check. An example was the night I was in one of my regular venues dressed to fashionably blend in with the rest of the women and I needed to discover if I wanted to escape the corner I was in at all. It turned out I loved the real me and wanted more time out of my closet. I was beginning to learn who I really was, but it turned out I would have many more corners to paint myself into. Such as settling into one new person and not changing each time I went out into the public. I was shocked how quickly people remembered me; I needed to wear the same wig as a start to solidify my future in the world as a transgender woman. In a way, the experience was boring because I was always enjoying my newfound ability to shop in wig stores for the so-called perfect hair after waiting all those years to do it.

Another of the major corners I painted myself into was how I ended up just pursuing the basics of communicating with an all-new world. I never expected people (particularly other women) would ever want to talk to me as a woman because they rarely wanted to as a man. My guess is the women were just curious about me wanting to be in their world, or just I did not threaten them anymore when they let me behind their gender curtain.

In many ways, my decision to undertake gender affirming hormones was me painting myself into a corner was the biggest risk I had ever taken. Undertaking HRT was my own ride or die. Either I made it as a transgender woman with the help of hormones would preclude me ever going back to a male life I never asked for, or I would have to find another way out. Spoiler alert: I was fortunate when I cleared the medical screening, I needed to begin what I considered to be lifesaving hormones, and I flourished. My decision could be compared to a gender insurance policy. I was making sure I was successful when I finally synced up my inner and outer selves.

Today, I have put down my paint brush and concentrated on living my life as a supported transfeminine person. Sure, I confuse some people with how to refer to me, but that is their problem not mine. They need to be educated to the world anyhow. Transgender women and transgender men are not their enemy, but their ignorance is. I filled my world with acceptance from a loving world and watched many other people paint themselves into their own corners. I took many risks along the way to do it and out of sheer will power to do it.

I have felt the depths of loneliness, all the way to having a new family all my own (except my daughter of course, she was always there). I don’t think I would recommend such a unique human journey to anyone else, but it was anything but boring.  As a painter, I have finally come close to finishing a project.