Just Me

JJ Hart

Years ago, when I started to write a “blog”, I barely even knew what one was. I was urged on by a close online acquaintance that I had met on another site that I cannot recall now or even know if it is still in existence. My friend has long since faded away and I hope she is still with us at all as she had health problems when I met her.

What I remember the most is the number of entitled transgender women who were “post op” (had gone through some sort of gender surgery) and felt that they were better than the “pre opt” trans women who had no surgeries at all. They were for the most part very nasty and we referred to them as “Trans-Nazi’s”. At that time, I had several very in-depth experiences I shared, and my friend told me I had enough to share with the world. So, I did and to this day, I am still writing.

Years ago, I made a pledge to myself to try to help others with my writing because for the most part, we share very similar yet difficult lives. Over the years, I have been able to share all sorts of experiences such a the “Blue Coat” I cherished so much in a store but was never able to buy because the finances could not handle it. I so loved that coat, that I was overjoyed every time I went back to that store and it was still there. Actually, it was pale blue, full length, wool, and I thought it fit perfectly with my long blond wig and black silky pants suit. I was there so much that I thought the staff would notice the tall blond trying on the same coat time after time without ever buying it. Because she was just wasting mirror time admiring herself, but they never did and finally I just had to give up on having the coat of my dreams.

Maybe I should have felt guilty about my one-sided obsession to be an attractive trans woman without the help of any surgeries. Plus, at the same time keep my long term marriage alive by going against all the transgender theories of the day which said you had to go away, have gender realignment surgery and start all over again in a totally new life. I was too stubborn for that and wanted to do it my way with one foot firmly planted in two gender worlds, male when I worked or was with my wife and female when I was not and was going to the diverse social parties I was attending in nearby Columbus, Ohio. I loved them because I never knew who I was going to meet there and they could be anywhere on the gender spectrum from lesbians to feminine transsexual women headed for their surgery.

Even with the wide range of gender diversity I ran into, I still could not get over the fact that I still did not fit in yet with any of the groups I interacted with. Ironically, I did learn how well I interacted with the lesbians who attended the parties which set the stage for my future belief that I firmly was not into men but still enjoyed my time with ciswomen and we got along.

From Columbus, so to speak, I took my going out show on the road and begin exploring more frequently venues that I had always wanted to go to as a transgender woman. As I was busy kicking open my closet door, I was learning more and more about the resilient new me. I started to write about my good and bad experiences in the straight world I wanted to be in as I left the safety of the gay venues behind me. The safety I am referring to was sacrificing always being known as just another queen to trying my best to be accepted on a bigger stage in straight venues I enjoyed going to as a man. Then, I started to write about which male baggage (such as sports) I could possibly bring with me. At the time, as well as now, I added how important it was to judge your surroundings to determine what other ciswomen were doing. I have always tried to emphasize how important it is to not bring any negative attention to yourself as I used to do by trying to cross-dress provocatively when I first entered the world.

Speaking of the world. It began to open for me when I began to blend in with my target audience which were women. At that point I started to write about being allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox and being allowed behind the magic gender curtain that I cherished so much that I was willing to risk all the male privileges I had worked so hard for to get there. The more experienced I became in my new feminine world I became, the more important it became for me to write about when I knew it was time to pull the plug on my male life. The key for me was that my transition always felt so natural for me, and my only regret was that it took me so long to do it.

I also went through the who I am to give advice on part of my writing experience. From comments I received all the way to just realizing my thoughts were as relevant as anyone else’s, I forged ahead through years of writing. Making sure that my writings were grounded by the realities I had such as the days I spent with my friends at the monthly lesbian mixers I always went to with them. Or the “Andy Warhol” exhibit I went to with transgender friends back in Columbus at Ohio State University and how I needed to be careful not to come off sounding like a trans-nazi myself after I wrote about a group of drunken cross-dressers trashing a women’s restroom in a gay bar we went to after the exhibit. Rightfully so, after the restroom incident, lesbians in the bar got the rest of us banned from using the women’s room. I was trying to hide my disdain for what the cross-dressers did because I was not far removed from being a very serious cross-dresser myself. The last thing I ever wanted to do was put myself up on any sort of pedestal.

Since now, I have followed my life’s curves and transitions, at the age of seventy-seven I have transitioned into my true transfeminine self-fulltime and thanks to my wife Liz having been living my dream life since I was sixty. Transitioning with Liz made me feel like the real me which had always been missing was the final piece of the puzzle.

Hopefully, I still have many healthy years to write about my experiences in my quest to help others with similar gender issues.