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| Image from Christian Dubovan on UnSplash. |
Years ago in another life, I bought a small corner tavern in an 1860’s era brick building in my hometown with a friend of mine.
My dad aptly called the bar the place flies did not have to stop
when they flew through and I had to agree. But his criticism did not stop my
friend and I from trying to make it the best tavern we could. When we were
bored, we started to look around in all the saved junk that ancient bars accumulated
and found a vintage, part wooden beer sign we could not wait to put up, even
though that brand of beer did not exist anymore.
Amazingly, the sign had an ancient filament light bulb that
still worked, so we used it and it kept on working for years. Later, I began to
think of that bulb and how it could describe my gender conflicted life. No
matter how hard I tried, my inner gender feminine light just would not go out. Not
even a three-year stint away in the Army from the external expression of me
being a cross-dresser could put it out. In addition, when I was honorably
discharged, I found I needed to replace my inner gender bulbs with ones of a
greater wattage to illuminate my dark, lonely closet.
Brighter bulbs helped to illuminate my feminine image in my
closet mirror and helped me improve my makeup art as well as determine what
clothes would be the right ones to wear. My new visions of myself helped me to
speed up the cross-dressing experience and I just wanted to have more. That is
when I began to take chances by going out into the malls and shopping centers
close to my home. It did not make matters any easier as I learned how far I
needed to go to successfully blend in with the ciswomen around me. Instead of
displaying a small/dim bulb to succeed, to get to where I wanted to go, I
needed a brighter bulb to display myself if I was ever going to make it as a
successful transgender woman
At first, I was just using my light to interact with clerks
and salespersons until I built up my confidence to do more. I was moving past
my early days of Halloween exposure to the world as a trans woman and I was
scared to death because for once I did not have the, “well I am wearing a
costume” excuse to fall back on if I experienced any pushback for my cross-dressing
in public. I was not up to no good, all I wanted was for my light to shine
brightly in the new exciting world I was in. Unfortunately, in my early years,
you might say I was a dimwit when my light bulb flickered and I thought it was
going to go out. Those were the dark days of “purging” or getting rid of almost
all of my feminine belongings and pledging to myself that I was going to turn
the light off for good, put it all behind me and go back to where I was as a
successful man.
As I said, those were the days of being a dimwit because deep
down I knew I needed that feminine bulb to survive. No matter how dim it was at
the time. Ironically, every time I “purged” I discovered very quickly I would
need a much brighter bulb to sustain my life when I returned to my gender
reality. Then I started to work hard to see what my new reflection in the world
really was as a transfeminine person. I had to be constantly on my toes with my
best behavior to do it as I was learning so much from every woman or the rare
cisman I interacted with. It seemed as if I had to keep a constant supply of
new bulbs handy every time I went out in the world. I always mention the
stripping of all my male privileges as the main way which drastically dimmed my
new light as a trans woman until I could replace the privileges with the whole new
euphoria of being able to exist equally as myself in the girls ‘club I so
desperately wanted admission into. It finally became evident to me; to be admitted,
I had to find a bigger, better bulb to improve my overall presentation. So, I
would never have to start all over again with my feminine life.
After years of experimentation and trying, I made it into
the girls’ club where I always should have been in my life. And I put all those
years of replacing bulbs behind me. Suddenly, my gender path became well lit
like a large city street which I was able to navigate easily. With the help of powerful/magical
HRT gender affirming hormones which helped me sync my external selves with my
feminine inner self. I really became a whole person with all the gender
benefits I had ever dreamed of. My emotions became clearer as I became more
sensitive to the world. Among with the usual changes in hair on my head and
breast size to my chest. Probably, most importantly, I was able to quit trying so
hard with my makeup as my skin softened along my facial angles which made me
more passable as a transgender woman. The world questioned me less, so I was
able to change out fewer bulbs as I continued to play in the girls’ sandbox for
the first time in my life.
The only regret I have is that it took me so long to follow
my feminine destiny and live out my truth in life. I wasted too much time and
money cross-dressing my life away changing gender bulbs until I got it right. I
should have taken the time to write down somewhere the number of excuses I
heard from my male self why I should ignore my truth and not try to live a life
as a transgender woman. But I did not and the only thing I can fall back on is
when my male life was good, it was very good and very bad when it was not. It
is the only excuse I have to waste all those bulbs I did over the decades of
gender experimentation I did to arrive at my destiny.
Hopefully, you can do the same. Thanks
for reading and comments are always welcome!
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