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| Image from Sonnie Hiles on UnSplash. |
For the longest time, I set new lines in the sand as I progressed along my path as a novice transgender woman.
Sometimes, the lines were very faint, and I had a difficult
time seeing them. All the way to deep trenches I needed to leap across. It all depended
on what I was doing at the time. For example, when I was just dressing in mom’s
dresses and putting on her makeup, the lines were very faint and easy to cross.
In my mind, I was a boy one moment and a girl the next. A very black and white
way to view myself, or so I thought until I grew older.
Instead of growing away from my cross-dressing years, I
ended up growing into them by finally coming to a better mastery of the
feminine clothes I wanted to wear and maybe more importantly, the artform of
applying makeup which was a very deep line to cross for me. If I had worked as
hard on my studies and sports than I did on my femininization projects, I would
have certainly made the dean’s list every year and starred on the school’s
football team. I was mentally built differently because of my gender dysphoria and
could not decide for the longest time which gender path I wanted to follow
because the feminine path was primarily there for an escape. When my male life
became too stressful, I could shave my legs, slide carefully into my pantyhose
which I had purchased myself from jobs I had worked and put on a dress and feel
better instantly.
Even though I did not want it to happen, I began to build male
privileges from doing a good job raising my daughter as a father and working
jobs I was promoted at. When I did, I knew I would have a lesser chance of
having just a small line in the sand to jump across if I ever needed to. Little
did I know, how much both of my efforts would come back to help me in my later
years when I encountered severe gender obstacles as I went behind the gender
curtain as a transgender woman. I should say finally went behind the curtain
since it took me decades to do it.
The problem arose with drawing more and more lines in the
sand that my life as a transfeminine person became more complex quicker than I
ever imagined. Often, I have described what I went through as sliding down a
deep slope grabbing onto whatever I could to maintain the male life that I had.
Just to watch it slip away. It led me to falling off the deepest cliff I could
have ever imagined when I put away all my male clothes for the last time, went
on HRT or gender affirming hormones and put my male life behind me for the last
time.
By this time, even my stubborn old male self was admitting
he had made a mistake by holding on as long as he did. All the covering lines
in the sand I was about to cross with his own ideas did not work, as I was able
to negotiate all the challenges thrown at me by ciswomen in the new world I was
in. In many ways, I had come full circle when I learned how valuable all the
building blocks, he had given me, just gave me more resolve to be a better
trans woman. The daughter I mentioned earlier came around to be my earliest and
strongest supporter so all the time I put into being with her when she was
young came back to help me. Then there was my employment in the restaurant industry
which turned out to be very lucrative for me in several ways. The first was
with money and the second was with the opportunity to work closely with groups
of varied ciswomen. In many ways, I learned what they faced in their lives gave
me insight into what I was going to face when I joined their world.
For example, I learned what alpha females meant to the group
of women as a whole, and if I could gain their support after I transitioned and
joined their world, it would be very valuable to me. In many ways I found that good
strong alpha ciswomen from super butch lesbians on down could do to help me
erase my lines in the sand. I can’t begin to say how much they helped me. Even
my second wife who was an unapproving alpha woman to me was a role model and
taught me more about her life than she ever knew. Before she passed away
tragically at the age of fifty from a massive heart attack. So, she never got
the chance to meet the mature transgender me after I had crossed all the lines
in the sand I needed to cross to just survive.
From all sorts of ciswomen, I learned that women come in all
shapes and sizes with various levels of support of the transgender community. Many
support us from afar and it would be different if it was their husband seeking
to make his own line in the sand and become a transgender woman. On the
positive side, there is now more information available to spouses of trans
women to understand what seemingly a glaringly selfish path is to go down for
their husbands. Especially with the husbands who have gone to great lengths to
hide their gender passions from their wives for many years. When I step back
and look at all the relationships which have ended over the years because of
gender dysphoria, I try to wonder what would have happened if my wife was the
one who wanted to draw his line in the sand and said enough is enough. I can’t
take it any longer.
Of course, now I am biased and think I would have accepted
my former wife bringing home another woman to get to know. How would my old
male ego react? I am ashamed to say it now, but my old male self would have had
to force the issue and solve it once and for all in his favor. Drawing his own
line in the sand.
If you are at the point of drawing a new line in the sand
for yourself, make it an achievable goal so you do not get discouraged.
Finally, stay flexible with your lines as you know some will be deeper than
others. If you do, you will stand a better chance of success.
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