Transgender Game Changers

 

Image from Andre Fonseca
on UnSplash.

One of the positives to being able to live a long life is to be able to look back on all the key moments in my life when a decision one way or another could have made a huge difference in my life.

Perhaps the biggest moment was when I discovered the enchantment of looking at the pretty girl in the mirror where my boy self was just standing. Sadly, the moments were fleeting as my life was calling me.

As I grew up and my life became more complex, so did my dealings with my transgender issues. One of the most important lessons I learned came early when my second wife and I encountered a handsome Harley motorcycle rider at a tavern we were at one day in Cleveland, Ohio waiting for a transvestite mixer we were going to, to start. I was very new  to being out in the world as a cross dresser and was completely surprised at my reactions when this guy came into the bar and started flirting with my wife. Then, I was even more concerned about my wife when she started to flirt back, completely ignoring me. What was I going to do since I was stripped of all my male reflexes of what to do when another man was flirting with my wife. I had to just sit there and be quiet and hope she did not go for a ride on the Harley with the man. Of course, my wife sensed my concern but let the situation play itself out to teach me a lesson in feminine competition. One I never forgot.

Another evening, I never forgot and could have been a bigger game changer than it was, was the night I had my makeup done by a professional makeup artist in Columbus, Ohio at another transvestite-transgender mixer I was attending. After the makeover, I was stunned at all the positive changes the artist made for me. I was flattered with all the compliments I was receiving and decided I did not want the evening to end early. I wanted to join the so called “A” listers who always went out on the town and show off my new look. Plus, for some reason, my wife decided not to go to this mixer, so I was free and on my own. We ended the evening at another tavern which I could not tell was LGBTQ friendly or not but one way or another I bought a beer and headed for one of the unoccupied pinball machines. When I did, amazingly I was approached by a younger good-looking man who wanted me to stay and play pinball with him. By this time, the rest of the “A” girls were ready to leave, and I needed to make a split-second decision on if to stay or go. Since I had no idea if the man knew my true gender or not, and I was in a strange city, I decided to go with the “A”’s who were jealous of me because I was approached by a man and they were not.

I never knew what would have happened if I had stayed and would the evening change my life forever, which also happened the night I went on a date with Bob. By this time, my wife had passed away, and I had not met Liz yet (my future wife) so I was free to explore my own boundaries. Bob was not from my area of the country and on occasion passed through the Dayton, Ohio area on business where I lived. On one of those nights, I knew he wanted to meet me in person at one of the venues I was a regular at. I had never partied with a man at a sports bar before, so I did not know what to expect. What I did not expect was the great time I had. It was the first time in my life that I had been treated completely as a woman, and I loved it. It was even a karaoke night, and he sang for me. And yes, Bob did know I was transgender. We shared a rather passionate kiss together and the night was over. Never to be repeated again.

There were other trans game changers such as girl’s nights outs and the conversations I shared with a man who I thought I could have gone farther with if he had stayed around. The “what if’s” remain big questions for me as I grow older, and I know you can’t have it all. In many ways I crammed a lot of life into my years which I am grateful for.

I should not be selfish though because I have been blessed during my life with people who have loved me, and I did my best to love back in return. Sadly, my gender issues were in my way through most of them and if I had faced reality, I could have been a better transfeminine person. Which is a topic for another blog post altogether.

 

 

Tiny Ripples of Gender Hope

Image from Rosie Kerr on UnSplash.

During the overwhelming sense of darkness I felt when I began to come out of my gender shell, were moments of gender hope and euphoria. More than anything else, they kept me moving slowly towards living my ultimate dream. All I could think of was the possibility of living as a woman later in life.

Having to run and hide my small “collection” of feminine clothes and makeup every time I tried to get in front of the mirror and cross dress did not help. I resented the fact I could not be free to do what I wanted, no matter how radical it was…like being a girl. I could not imagine the pain and suffering I would have if I was caught. What saved me was the vision of a pretty young girl which came peeking on through when I was able to be alone and try on my precious clothes. Even though I was depressed I had to go back to being a boy, the brief moment of femininity carried me through the dark days and gave me a ripple of hope.

Fast forward through the difficult days of puberty and adolescence everyone goes through, I needed to deal with my gender dysphoria also. There were so many dark days when I just went through the motions of life that I did not know what was going to become of me. When I did, I desperately needed to find refuge behind my dresses and makeup to give me hope. Perhaps the only good thing which was happening was that I was slowly perfecting my use of makeup. When all my friends were showing off their painted model cars, I was stuck not being able to show off my new eye makeup. I had to internalize my feelings of hope and euphoria when I saw my new pretty eyes. Sadly, I needed to become good at removing all traces of the makeup so my brother and parents would not notice.

I guess you could say I was in the dark through my college years and beyond until I began to be able to enter the world for the first time as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. These were the days of attending transvestite mixers and small parties in nearby Columbus, Ohio. Being around like minded people who were searching for their gender answers almost made my search seem normal for the first time in my life. I was so protected from the world in the pre-internet days that I thought I was the only one like me stuck in their own personal hell. I was experiencing ripples of hope for the first time in my life on a scale I could appreciate. I even upped my appearance game when I went to Columbus from trashy woman to hopefully a passable ciswoman. One of my favorite outfits to wear was what I called my knit black out. I paired a loose fitting black wide knit top with a black leotard, shorts, tights with a pair of black flats and my red wig and was ready to go. After makeup of course.

For me, the whole outfit helped me to tone down and refine my look and it worked so well that I had my first ever encounter with a lesbian from the party when we left and went to a big lesbian venue for a break. I learned many valuable lessons that night which provided me with ripples of hope for the future. Mainly, if I could not be as feminine or beautiful as the transsexuals who were there, I still could be attractive myself to have a good time and most importantly, learn to be just me. Developing the future, me gave me real hope for the future as I learned it would be possible to achieve my transgender dreams if I worked hard enough. I had to learn the new transfeminine me meant so much more than the ripples of hope I had gained in the past went way past how I looked and into how I acted.

Suddenly, acceptance became my main goal, as my interior feminine self-stepped forward in my life. I knew who I wanted to be but still was not quite sure how to get there. For example, I knew for sure I did not want to be like the “Trans Nazi’s” as we called them or the bitchy trans women who thought they were better than anyone else simply because of their appearance or the number of gender surgeries they had undertaken. I suppose I should owe them a debt of gratitude for showing me what not to do to be a gracious, friendly transgender woman.

All of this came together for me when I began HRT or gender affirming hormones when I was sixty. I had spent enough life in the dark to appreciate the light and grasp a ripple of hope when I saw it. The hormonal medications proved to be a natural success when I began taking them. My body seemed to be saying again what took you so long. But on many levels I don’t think even I understood the basic limits I went through back in those days to salvage my life through the brief ripple of hope I received way back in the days when I lived for the mirror.

More importantly, I found myself in a situation where I could pay forward my experiences to helpfully help others. Especially those of you who are struggling to find answers on how to escape your dark gender closets and find your own ripple of hope. 

The Rise of Transfeminine Privilege

 

JJ Hart (Middle) wife Liz (Left)
daughter (Right)

When I began to seriously leave my closet and mirror and attempt to join the world as my true self, I quickly lost all my male privileges and gained very few feminine ones. In fact, early on, the only privilege I felt was having doors opened for me by the men around me.

On the other hand, the most extensive male privileges I lost were my intelligence and my personal security. When I was around men, I learned to keep my mouth shut until I was spoken to, which was not very often because I think most all men knew I was transgender and wanted no part of me. And as far as personal security went, I needed to learn what ciswomen know from an early age to keep themselves out of possible bodily danger by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

All along, during this time, I was wondering when and if the gender teeter-totter I was on would balance itself out and I would see the positives of what I was doing. It took a combination of things happening before I ever did. One was seasonal around Christmas, and the other one was when I decided to give up on men all-together and concentrate on knowing other women. A preferred topic in my mind, since I did not have to consider changing the focus of my sexuality, which had always leaned exclusively towards women. But I digress, the meaning of Christmas and what it meant to me as a transgender woman, is the real reason for this post.

To begin with, Christmas was always a major holiday for me and my second wife especially. Finding an exceptional, unexpected, rare gift was always the priority for me and even my brother’s family. The difference became to me was when I decided the Christmas shopping, I had been doing as a man would be much better accomplished as a woman. If I was able to pull it off, I could accomplish so much more during the Christmas rush I was in the middle of.

First of all, I needed to up my crossdressing game to give me the best possible chance to succeed in my shopping conquests. I went through my closet and pulled out my fancy, sleek, black pants’ suit for trips to upscale malls and my leggings, boots and sweaters when I combed through the huge local antique malls for just the right gift for my wife. I knew if I was to succeed, I had to be better than the average Ciswoman so I would not be potentially embarrassed. Also, the right makeup and hair was a priority because of all the up close and personal time I would be spending in the public’s eye. Through it all, I wondered where the magical feminine privilege would kick in for me.

The first major time it did was when I was shopping for a matching oak bookcase for my wife’s roll-top desk. One night, I found one which worked beautifully in an oak furniture store in nearby Columbus, Ohio. It just so happened I was returning from a shopping trip to a local Columbus upscale mall when I stopped into the store on the way home. After I found the bookcase I wanted, my old male self-wondered how in the world would I get it in my truck/SUV. Would anyone come to the aid of a tall blond in a black pants suit and heels? After I paid, I found out they would because for the first time in my life I was able to sit back and watch two young men load the bookcase carefully into my vehicle and finished their job off with a nice thank you mam. Because I had finally discovered a dose of feminine privilege, the half hour trip home went quickly, and I wanted to do more shopping, but I was out of time and money.

Sadly, once I returned home and had safely unloaded my prize gift, it was time to return to the place I did not want to be…my old male self. On the plus side though, the whole experience taught me (and provided the confidence) to move forward to my dream life of being a fulltime transgender woman and would not have to return home every night in a hurry to switch back into a gender I wanted nothing to do with. My feminine privilege was being established in the newfound senses I was feeling. Especially when I was doing something for others, such as buying gifts.

The experience made all the learning and trial and error experiences I went through during my male to female femininization process deeply worthwhile. There were other Christmas stories to share as I will do later. Such as when my wife decided we would have a special gift giving time for my feminine self.

 

 

 

 

Stopping was Impossible

 

Image from Edward Howell
on UnSplash.

For years as I followed my early cross-dressing path, I labored under the impression that someday I could actually stop and return to my male existence. Of course, the older I became I learned that stopping was going to be nearly impossible. The reason being, when I was forced out of the mirror and into the world, I began to have success.

To me, success was measured in the public reaction I received. Very early on I suffered scorn when I went out without the knowledge to blend in with other ciswomen. When I became successful, it took so much pressure off and stopping became less and less an option. Mainly because something clicked in my head that I did not want to ever go back which was different than wanting to. For example, there was the night at TGIF Fridays when I went into the venue with the mindset, I actually wanted to be a woman with other women, not some sort of an impostor. When it happened, I knew for sure stopping was never going to be an option again. I was firmly on the path to achieving my dream of possibly living fulltime as a transgender woman.

The more I decided not to stop, the quicker the pressure mounted on me on what to do with my old male life. He had dug in deep and was refusing to go away easily. The worst part was he made good arguments such as what was I going to do about my spouse, family and employment. Just as a start. What did I do? I continued to internalize my inner woman and keep researching my future. Since my gender workbook was blank, I had a long way to go. Primarily when I needed to learn how to communicate one on one with other women when I was exceedingly shy to start with. To arrive there, I went to excess of taking feminine vocal lessons to attempt to learn to communicate better. As I was slowly succeeding in my efforts, again I knew for sure I could never go back.

Another main thing I learned was that I needed to control my emotions, not let them control me. Or when I hit the valleys of my journey (which there would be many), I had to pick myself up from being a failure and continually go back to my gender drawing board to figure out what I was doing wrong. I knew I had a testosterone poisoned body. I needed to work around but I dedicated myself to somehow doing it. I discovered from all the trips I was making to thrift stores; I could find the fashion I needed to make myself look the best I could under the circumstances I was working with. It all added up in my mind to I could never stop.

Along this way too, I quit purging for good. I had learned my lesson about the previous purges I had attempted. The lesson was, I could never go back to my old male self again. I was tired of throwing out all my hard-earned clothes, shoes and makeup only to have to replace it all again as soon as a month later.

What helped me was, I was learning over and over again how wrong I was fighting my instincts to be a transfeminine person at all. I always point out how wrong I was when I was fighting my true feminine self at all. I suffered from the brutal pressure I put on myself. So, stopping my transgender advance was never an option. I should never have waited as long as I did to go after my gender dreams.

I was fortunate that my basic personality never lent itself to stopping my search for my dreams. All my life, all I wanted to be was a woman and I just could never visualize myself not working hard to achieve my goal. I just never in a million years understood how difficult it would be for me to do it. I should have listened to my wife when she tried to tell me I was on the wrong path to achieving my goal. In a way, I did but not nearly enough until I did not stop until I was allowed to exist behind the gender curtain. Once I got there, stopping was never going to be an option again.

Then HRT and new feminine hormones shifted my mental thinking to match my external appearance which was improving all along. I never expected the changes to be so dramatic so quickly. I am glad stopping my male to female feminine transition was never a reasonable option.

 

Transgender S.O.S.

Image from Micheal Held
on UnSplash.

What a mistake it is when a “civilian” says transgender women and transgender men have a choice when they decide to live a life they were destined for.

By destined, I mean ultimately, we had no choice but to transition and any attempts to stop it were going to be futile. Those of us who were forced into the male box at birth unfortunately learned the male way to deal with emotions and difficult circumstances, we just internalized them. Hoping they would just go away. I know with me, in my family, internalization was taught from a very young age. It was impossible to relay any sort of gender S.O.S. to anyone who had a remote idea of how to help me. Back in those days, gender dysphoria was treated as a mental disorder and at the least, I knew enough to know I was not mentally ill. I just wanted to be a girl.

What I did then was try to run and hide and attempt to be hyper masculine in everything I did which worked for years. But the damage from doing it was extensive, and my mental health suffered from the pressure of trying to be both binary genders. It became a balancing act which was impossible to put down.

Along the way, with urging from my second wife, I sought therapy to save our marriage. To do so, I found a therapist who advertised as a gender specialist in Columbus, Ohio. She was one of the first and I found her ad in a LGBTQ publication I was reading and decided to give her a try. After several sessions, she told me the truth which I only listened to part of. She said I was Bi-Polar which explained all the severe depression and ups and downs I had been experiencing. It turned out that it was the easy diagnosis she gave me because the second part involved my gender dysphoria. One session, she flat out told me there was nothing she or even me could ever do anything about wanting to be a woman. Somehow, I would have to learn to live with it or act on my desires. Her words shocked me and at that time of my life, I was still searching for my gender truth and was not ready to give up on maintaining all the comfortable male privileges I had worked so hard for.

My answer at the time was to go back to internalizing what she told me because there was no way I was going to tell my wife. Who then would have considered the entire use of therapy to be a waste. Since in many ways, I was just refusing to look at my true self in the mirror, I discontinued therapy and went on with my life. Even though my mirror was telling me I was a man, my mind had other ideas, and I still had no one to send a S.O.S to because on occasion, I felt as if I was sinking fast. I was fortunate that my new anti-depression meds worked well enough to keep my everyday moods stable which left me the gender problems to deal with on their own.

It took me years to finally figure out the gender problems were not going away no matter how much I tried to internalize them. In desperation I tried to start going out in public and attempt to interact with the world as a woman, transgender or not. My S.O.S. to the public was I was not trying to fool anyone into thinking I was a ciswoman, I meant no harm, and I was just trying to be me for once in my life with no internalizing. I can’t say it was always easy and I survived a suicide attempt when I felt I was cheating on my wife (with myself) but I made it through alive.

The best part was when I began to build a new transfeminine life completely away from the man I used to be. Ironically though, my internalization was still there but just reversed. No longer was I trying to hide the reality of my femininity, now I was trying to hide any of my old male self-slipping through and re-ruining my life I was trying to build.

The entire path I was on took me head on to the realization that no matter what the mirror was telling me in the morning, I could work past him and for once face the world as my true, authentic self. I did not have to send out any more S.O.S. pleas that went unanswered or internalized anything. I faced myself and was free to live.

To hell with never having a choice of which gender was right for me, and to hell is where I almost went thinking I was not man enough to be a woman. I had the choice all along no matter what society told me. I was just afraid to do it.

 

  

Is There Really a Difference between Genders?

 

Image from Pea on UnSplash. 

Yesterday, I briefly wrote about how I saw the world differently when I went out for the first time to view Christmas decorations at Clifton Mill, Ohio as my feminine self. I said something to the fact that my senses seemed to heighten as I viewed all the decorations and people around me. To me, the whole evening was brighter and more festive than when I viewed it as a man, wondering how it would be to do the same thing as a woman.

Little did I know the experience would prepare me for later life as I progressed along my gender path. Perhaps, initially, the new senses I felt were psychological in nature because I was still years away from actually changing my gender hormonal balance from male to female when I added HRT or gender affirming hormones to my system. Which means, I guess, if I was in some sort of a scientific gender study, I would not have needed the hormones to increase my femininity at all. Which would be good news to all of you who for medical or spousal reasons cannot consider HRT.

One way or another, I felt a real difference in my world when I entered it as a woman rather than a man. If I was cold, I could react accordingly and not have to be macho and try to ignore it is a prime example. Then, quite possibly, the biggest change of all was what I was going to wear. I had so many fashion choices I could barely make up my mind. It seemed I was only limited to what I could afford to shop for and buy. The sensory feeling of the clothes was wonderful, and I just loved the big, warm, fluffy sweaters I was able to wear because they were in fashion at the time and paired perfectly with my denim mini skirts I was able to find at my favorite thrift store. I discovered that I was perfectly comfortable when I wore a pair of tights or even leggings with my sweater/skirt combo in cool Ohio weather.

Even though the clothes did make a difference for me, the buzz quickly went away and the reality of what I was attempting set in. I have always believed that attempting to change the human gender is one of the most difficult things a person can attempt because there are so many roadblocks in the way.  Such as current misunderstandings of trans women or trans men’s lives. No matter how you cut it, it is just difficult to explain to a “civilian” what is going through our minds when we made the monumental decision to jump the gender border. What could possibly go wrong? Ha ha!

Sometimes, we end up surprising even ourselves with the gender changes we have to go through to be successful. As we begin to earn our way behind the actual gender curtain into woman only spaces, we begin to see and feel all the real differences there are. I know my first girl’s nights outs were real eye openers for me. I had no idea of how ciswomen interact with each other when there were no men around. The differences were real, and I cherished my chances to experience them. So much more than even my new one on one communication challenges with ciswomen strangers in the world.

As I approached the idea that I could actually take the opportunity to attempt to go on gender affirming hormones, naturally I knew it was a huge step forward in my transfeminine development. First of all, there were the health consequences of a sixty-year-old male starting to reverse the hormones he had lived with successfully for all those years Plus, back in those days, there were many naysayers preaching about the possible damage female hormones could cause on the body. Fortunately, I found a doctor who did not believe in all of that, and he approved my HRT. When I started the meds, I felt an almost immediate change. It was certainly what the doctor ordered, and I was rapidly increased to higher dosages of my precious new medications.

I felt great when my external changes such as breast development started to happen faster than I expected and was even more surprised at the internal changes I was feeling. Like the first night I visited the Christmas lights, when my world softened and became more perceptive, I quickly found myself in a world where I could appreciate everything more. Heat, light and sound in particular affected me more when I ventured out in public to my regular venues.

At that point, all I really knew was I never wanted to go back to the old male life I forced myself to live. I had found my new home.

A Trans Girl's First Christmas

 

Clifton Mills, Clifton, Ohio. 

The newly fallen snow around here in southern Ohio has brought back my Christmas spirit and memories of my earliest days of coming out of my gender shell and exploring the world.

Years ago, my second wife and I used to make a regular trip to a wonderful Christmas light display at a place called Clifton Mills, which was/is a restored grist mill approximately twenty miles from where we lived. Even though I did enjoy going with my wife, in the back of my head, I always wondered what it would be like to experience the evening as a woman. Finally, when my wife began to work retail in the book business and had to work many nights, I got the chance to live my dream.

Before I did, I needed to figure out what I was going to wear for my special evening. I knew the weather would be rather crisp and cool, and I even had the chance of snow flurries if I was able to pick the right night when I was off work and she was working. I started my wardrobe with a warm fuzzy oversized sweater I loved and paired it with a pair of fleece leggings which would be warm enough to keep me warm as I wandered around enjoying all the lights and displays. Back in those days I had access to my own finances and was able to come up with enough money to buy me a pair of low-heeled snow boots which would help me navigate the long distances I would have to walk safely and comfortably as I walked through the village to get to the mill itself.

Once I figured out what I was going to wear, I had to make time to apply just the right amount of makeup to blend in with the other women in the crowd. I applied my makeup, got dressed and finished off my outfit with my shoulder length wavy blond wig. As I left the garage and slipped past my neighbors, it was dark, which helped me and my anticipation of what was coming up heightened. Would my expectations of spending my first evening out as a transgender woman at Christmas fulfil my dreams?

The twenty-mile drive seemed to take forever but I finally arrived, found a parking spot in the village, adjusted my makeup and hair and left the relative safety of the car. As I walked, I passed several people who did not give me a second look, so I started to calm down and enjoy myself and breathe in the night air as a free person. I even became so comfortable I stopped in one place for a hot chocolate and another for a hot spiced cider in the mill itself. The reaction to me at the hot chocolate stand was as warm and friendly as the drink itself which helped me to build confidence but the reaction from the younger girl where I bought the cider was as cold as the evening, so I did not wait around to buy anything else.

I found the only real problem I had was the lack of time I had to enjoy myself because I needed to be home and return into a boring man before my wife made it back. The end result was I completely enjoyed the experience of being a trans girl at Christmas and wanted more. The evening proved to me I could present well enough to enjoy myself and the only disappointment came when it was all over. My solution was, I needed to come up with other Christmas related transgender woman activities to test my abilities to present well in the midst of ciswomen doing the same thing. As Christmas approaches, I will share other experiences I had with you which turned out to be fun and eventful

The bottom line was, I found my confidence in my womanhood I never knew I had and at the same time bought gifts for others that meant something. A win-win situation for me and the evening I enjoyed the Christmas lights at the mill somehow were brighter and more festive than ever before as I was able to see them through my feminine eyes. Maybe a precursor to when I started HRT or gender affirming hormones which really opened my world to a whole new set of sensory perceptions.

If I had realized what my body was telling me earlier and reacted, maybe I could have saved myself and others around me a lot of turmoil and problems.

 

 

For Better or for Worse

 

JJ Hart. 

In this case, for better or for worse should not be totally applied to the state of a transgender person’s marriage. Although, it often is.

In this case, I am talking about what happens when we attempt to break out of our dark, lonely gender closets and enter the world. I write long and often concerning the struggles I had when I first tried to come out of my mirror and appear in front of the public as my authentic feminine self. By doing so, I quickly learned I was in over my head as a novice transgender woman or even a cross-dresser. Even worse, I had my second wife telling me I had no idea of what it was like to really be a woman. Even though I was stubborn and did not totally believe her, I set out to discover what she was trying to tell me. The worse part when I tried to find out more about cisgender women was, I was not prepared to go behind the gender curtain to find out what was going on. In reality, I was years away from having the experiences of knowing what my wife was talking about.

At that time, I was still obsessed with how I made my male to female transition appearance wise. All I need to do is go back through all my old blog posts to see how vain I was about how I looked like a cross-dresser and how it dominated my life. As I focused on every little aspect of my appearance. At first, it was all great fun before I began to focus on a higher goal. Something kept telling me I was going to have to do more than just look like a woman to ever satisfy my gender dysphoria which would not leave me alone. As I wiped the makeup off, I sadly knew my male life awaited me again. I so badly wanted off the gender merry-go-round I was on then get on with my life.

It helped a little bit when I finally came to the conclusion, I was more than a weekend cross-dresser and fit the definition of a transgender woman perfectly. All of a sudden, my life had some sort of a meaning it had been lacking. I began gaining access to cisgender woman spaces I had been denied in the past and I was able to see what my wife was talking about. Or I was paying my dues to achieving womanhood on my terms. The better of for worse began to sneak in when I found all the negatives I would have to learn as a transfeminine person. Primarily when my male privileges were taken away and I lost all my personal security I had taken for granted my entire life. And the easy access I had to just going to the rest room as a man. Going as a woman, was such a different experience I could (and have) written complete blog posts about my experiences.

The better part of all of this was, I did not have to put up with the male drama that most ciswomen go through in their lives. I was a prime example of a terrible male partner for my wives to live with. Time and time again, I tried to not be selfish with my desire to be a woman and have it destroyed our entire relationship. The worse of the better or worse was when I became completely jealous that my wives could live as women and I could not. I just could not help myself. Plus, when I came out fully and transitioned I did it in the company of ciswomen who I was used to and did not ever have to adjust to male drama again. I am now married to a ciswoman lesbian who I have been with happily for over a decade now.

I was fortunate when my best transition plans worked out as well as they did. I love it when a plan comes together and even though it was a blind plan, somehow it still came together. It helped when my feminine inner soul was able to take over and run my life. She had been waiting for years, not so patiently wanting her turn to live. She provided the backbone and comfort I needed to move forward in the latter stages of my male to female gender transition.

What I considered a burden, and the worse part of my life, turned into the best part of my life when I was able to experience my impossible dream of living as a transgender woman.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sealing the Final Deal in my Gender Struggle

 

JJ Hart. Key Largo last year.

Sealing the deal on my male to female gender transition was the most difficult decision I have ever had to make in my life.

It is the main reason I kept putting it off until I was nearly sixty years of age and could take the pressure no longer. The only way I kept what sanity I had was to cross-dress my way along until I could take bigger, more substantial steps.  One of the problems was, I had learned that cross dressing was not nearly enough to solve my gender issues and sooner or later, I would have to face the truth of who I really was. Also, I was very naïve and thought I could balance the influence of two genders in my world as I grew older.

As I set out to build a reasonably successful male life, at the same time, I was trying to fill out my feminine workbook with absolutely no help from other women. I was stuck being on my own for years, until I progressed to the point where I could leave my closet and explore the world as a novice. After brief successes (and a lot of failure), I was able to see portions of my future and judge if I could ever seal the deal and live my dream of being a fulltime transgender woman. Even though I was still progressing, I was still hitting roadblocks on my path to trans success and had to keep working my way forward through failure.

All I could see in my future was a life I would have to live alone with no way to support myself as a transfeminine person. My sexuality did not change, and I wanted basically nothing to do sexually with men, and I knew how incredibly difficult it would be to find a ciswoman who would accept me the way I was. I had pulled off some other seemingly impossible things in my life but accomplishing this and sealing the gender deal was too much to hope for.

Then, as I lived my new life as a trans woman, I learned that maybe my dream was not too much to hope for and one thing was for certain, if I did not try, I never would know if I could make it. I expanded my explorations with men and managed to have a couple real live dates when I enjoyed myself but nothing sexual happened, so I set my sights in lesbian bars for a ciswoman who wanted a woman with a little bit extra experience in the world. Amazingly to me, I was moderately successful in one lesbian bar where they accepted me. Which brought me so much closer to thinking I could seal the deal and live my dream.

Now I was to the point where I had to really see where I wanted to take my life. I was an executive general manager of a large casual dining restaurant which I had put in years of hard work to arrive at. If I transitioned, all the work I put into my career would be gone (along with the money) and I would have to start all over again. Behind the world as a transgender woman. Naturally, the whole situation was a major roadblock.

It finally came to the point where I faced sealing the deal like I was jumping off a cliff into nothingness. At that point destiny set in for me and made my final decision so much easier. Tragically, I lost my second wife and almost all of the close friends I had to death and could start with a clean slate in life. Plus, the restaurant I owned was failing and I was losing it also, leaving me a couple of years to work before I could retire early on Social Security which would give me enough income to get by. As You can tell, the doors to transition were opening wide and I would have been a fool not to walk through them.

Most importantly, my mental health was suffering and my self-worth as a man was at an all time low, so it was time to end the torture I was feeling and jump off the cliff and seal the deal. It was during this time too, that the Veterans Administration health care system, which I was already a part of, approved veteran’s care for gender dysphoria with mental health counseling and HRT if approved. I was quickly approved and ended up taking another giant step towards achieving my dream and sealing my lifetime goal.

What did I have to lose? I was leaving a male life I never really felt comfortable in to jump off a gender cliff and land in accepting women’s arms as I joined their world. When I did, I tried to take every little bit of advantage I could from all the learning experiences I put in over the years. Landing on my feet in high heeled shoes was a challenge but I managed to make it in fairly good shape. I came out fully at the age of sixty when I finally decided to seal the deal and never looked back. I could not take balancing two genders any longer and took the easy way out into the world of women where I should always had been.

As always, thanks for reading along, and any comments are welcome! I always do my best to respond.

 

If Your House of Cards is Broken, What Then

 

Image from Nik Korba on UnSplash.

If your house of cards is falling, what then?  Is something many transgender women and transgender men face as they transition to the gender of their choice.

The problem is, we hide our flaws so well over the years that many of the friends and family we associate with never had a chance to see the true selves we are internalizing. In my case, I knew very early on I had deep flaws that eventually I would have to adjust to. Somehow, I carried the misconception that age would solve all my gender problems which I hoped magically would just disappear. In the meantime, I set out to build a stable male existence on a house of cards.

The longer I built my house of cards, the harder it became to rationalize tearing it all down and starting over. As I started my path towards achieving my dream of living my life as a transgender woman. What I ended up doing was, trying to explore the world in stages as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman, to see if I had any chance of making it at all. Very early on, I had my doubts as my futile attempts to blend in with the world were met with scorn. I knew without a shadow of a doubt what I was doing was breaking my male and female self and I needed to discover ways to fix it.

It was then I began to shove my male ego aside and begin dressing for the segment of the population I wanted to blend in with, cisgender women. I began to re-study all I had ever thought of women as a whole and started to fix the way I was trying to look. I was certainly not making it as a teen girl dressed to thrill and settled in on a more mature scaled back look I could handle with my testosterone poisoned body. I immediately began to see dividends as I started to successfully blend in with the world.

The problem I discovered was I was beginning to be too successful in my exploration. Suddenly I realized I was not a casual weekend cross dresser at all. I fit in with the new up and coming term transgender almost perfectly and I began to change my mindset from thinking I was a man trying to be a woman to I was actually a woman trying my best to be a strong, successful man. When I discovered this, my life in some ways changed for the best, but in other ways turned out to be problematic. It was easy to accept my changes, but it was hard to decide what to do about them because of the seismic problems they caused. My house of cards was shaking and becoming broken, and I did not know (or want to face what I needed to do about it.)

To attempt to hold my broken world together, I kept trying to apply the strongest male glue available. All I ended up doing was hurting my mental health more in the process of trying to save myself. All the ripping and tearing of my gender dysphoria was literally killing me. Finally forcing me into action to save myself. As I struggled, I continued on my not so merry way, exploring what it would really mean to me if my house of cards collapsed and I had to fix it. The only thing I had going for me was all the experiences I had built up as a transfeminine person in my life. So, I did not have to start from ground zero when I decided to go after my male to female transition for the final time. I was secure in my feminine appearance and communication skills, and I had major hurdles behind me. Then all I needed to learn was what would happen when I lost all of my male privileges which were a major part of my house of cards. In many ways, losing things such as my security and intelligence as a trans woman were breaking all the remaining chains I had to my old male life.

The bottom line was I took a male life that was not broken and broke it anyhow. Giving up nearly everything I knew as a man. Gender affirming hormones or HRT put the finishing touches on everything I had ever known and shifted my knowledge of gender privileges to the feminine side of the gender spectrum. As my testosterone decreased and my estrogen level increased, I was free to build a new life. Which for once was not broken or flawed. No more house of cards for me, nothing was broken.

 

 

A Trans Girl and her Football

 

Ohio State versus Michigan. 

When I seriously began to think of pursuing my male to female gender transition, I wondered what I would do about all my male baggage in my new feminine life.

Since I was nearly sixty years of age, I had plenty of baggage to consider what I was going to keep and what had to go. By far, my sports baggage was the largest piece of baggage I needed to wonder about was my love of sports. Especially football and baseball.

Ultimately, I found I did not have to worry about anything because ciswomen around me were catching up to me in their love of sports. To make it clearer, as I looked around during the big games I was watching in the sports bars I was hanging out in, I was beginning to notice more and more women in their football jerseys around me. All of a sudden, I did not feel so out of place. I knew some women were into sports, such as my second wife, but not to the level I was.

Also, what helped me was the customer/regular relationships I built with the bartenders I saw on a regular basis. It even got to the point when my beer was always waiting for me when I sat down in front of a big screen television to watch a game.  When all of this was happening, I was deciding I could take my love of sports with me as I transitioned into transgender womanhood. It was just part of my inheritance.

Little did I know, the best was yet to come, and I could bring my sports baggage with me. It turned out, my wife Liz and other ciswomen friends I had made along the way were all as passionate as I was about watching sports. I even was living life large when I was invited to go to a women’s roller derby match one day in Cincinnati by my lesbian friends. It was also a dollar beer night which also added to the fun.

The whole focus of this post is “The Game” is today. Or in other words, the Ohio State/Michigan football game. I make no secret of my love for the Ohio State Buckeyes as Liz is also so we will be tuned into the game. Ironically, the game was one of the main days out of Thanksgiving and Christmas we ever got together. The good news is, I have a better person to watch football with (my wife Liz) who helped me build my life as a transfeminine person, rather than tear it down like my brother did.

No matter how the game goes, I will forever be grateful to all the cis women in my life who encouraged me to be me which included bringing along my love of sports. It probably all came from playing sports (primarily football) which kept the bullies away at the same time. So, it worked well, even though I made it through a couple broken bones. One funny story I have about broken bones was when I broke my collar bone. The doctor who examined me said he would not reset the bone, and I would always have a lump where the break was. Then, the doctor said it would not matter since I would not be wearing a strapless gown in my life. I thought, if he had really known, he would not have said such a thing. Of course, I was worried from then on about that lump on my collar bone and always remember what the doctor said.

Any piece of advice I may have for anyone considering a gender transition of their own, is to look at your baggage closely and then what the ciswomen around you are doing. The world of women is always evolving with the world and is never staying in one place. It happened to me with sports and can happen to you too with some of your questionable baggage. It could be a chance for you to be a leader rather than a follower. If you follow your heart, others will find no problems with you. People are like sharks and have the tendency to circle the wounded ones quickly. Don’t give them the chance to see you bleed.

I know it is impossible to bring all your male baggage with you. Afterall, he had a hand in making you who you are today. Possibly, it all could make you a better person as a trans woman. You already are because of the understanding you have of the two main binary genders and you can build on that success.

Maybe you can be a trans girl with her football too, and GO BUCKEYES!

 

Gender Euphoria equals Black Friday Fun

 

Image from Markus Winkler
on UnSplash.

Yesterday’s Thanksgiving feast at my daughter’s -in-laws proved to be everything I thought it would be.

To begin with, all the usual suspects were there, including my trans grandchild who drove back from Maine with their partner for the dinner. Of course, my daughter and son-in-law were there also, with my first wife who I remain friends with today. Even though she slips up on occasion and calls me by my dead name. I forgive her because she is the mother of my only child and is getting a little forgetful in her old age. As I am.

To be surrounded by family who knew me before and to be accepted the way I was, always means a lot to me. Giving me a family to fall back on when my blood family rejected me, which I wrote about in my last post. I have never forgiven them for what they did and have kept my distance for over a decade now. If you missed my post, my bitterness stems from when my brother and sister-in-law asked me not to come to our Thanksgiving dinner when I came out to them as transgender.

As I have mentioned several times, my new chosen family has more than made up for my blood family loss. Especially in times such as yesterday when I am supplied with plenty of gender euphoria. Which brings me to the second part of this post, my first “Black Friday” shopping experience as a transgender woman.

The whole “Black Friday” woman’s shopping experience was always one I wanted to experience on my own as a transfeminine person and finally I had the chance because my second wife worked retail and would be busy. I knew if I played my cards right, I could set my work schedule up so I did not have to be at work until later in the afternoon, so I could pull my dream off. I knew what I was going to wear and knew where I was going to wear it, so I was set for an early morning departure as I pulled up my panty hose and picked out a big fluffy sweater, mini denim skirt and comfortable walking shoes. Just in case I could not find a close spot in the parking lot at the mall I chose.

As I found a parking spot and entered the crowded mall, I could not believe I was living out one of the big bucket list items on my gender dream. I was actually shopping for Christmas bargains with many other ciswomen who were oblivious to having a trans woman among them. The only problem I had was time. I did not have very much of it before I needed to head home and get ready for work in my old boring male clothes. Even still, I managed to walk away from the experience with the knowledge I could, indeed, make it in the public’s eye as a woman going about her everyday life.

Little did I know, my experience on “Black Friday” set me up for other bucket list activities and ones that required me having more skill in my new exciting yet scary gender. By going down the path I was on, I slowly realized I could never go back. Even if I had wanted to. As I always point out for me, my biggest problem was communicating with other women. I was always shy to begin with and the whole idea of talking to strangers as a transgender woman was staggering. Life became more than just interacting with clerks in clothing stores when I set out to learn how I may be treated in my male to female gender dream world. I even went as far as taking voice lessons to improve my vocal quality of life.

What proved to be the deciding factor was every time I was accepted in the world as my true self, I felt the flood of gender euphoria and wanted more. I felt so natural in my dream life, it did not feel like a dream anymore. It felt like I was living the life I always should have lived.

To get there, I needed to cross many bridges, some of which were very steep. Since I was afraid of heights, many times I was afraid to climb them and needed all the internal encouragement or gender euphoria to keep going. Thanksgiving dinner proved to be a big help as I was able to gain the confidence of a group of people I knew before I transitioned. It was the bridge I needed to do a lot of holiday shopping which I will write about more as Christmas approaches.

 

 

My Thanks to You

 

Image from Priscilla Dupreez 
on UnSplash. 

As another Thanksgiving approaches, it is time again to give thanks to all of you.

I know the holidays are a difficult and lonely time for many of us in the transgender community and many of us have reached out to non-blood acquaintances to fill the void we lost from an unapproving family. I make no secret of the problems I faced with my only brother on Thanksgiving over a decade ago.

I was just coming out of my gender dysphoric closet and needed to tell what was left of my family about my desire to live as a woman. It just so happened; my timing was perfect as the holidays were right around the corner. Rather than just show up as my transgender self, I decided to do the right thing and ask my brother and sister-in-law if they still wanted me to come to dinner. I was quite naïve at the time and was riding the high I felt when I received an all-out acceptance from my daughter.

I should have known better when the Thanksgiving door was rudely slammed in my face and I was told it was best not to come. I should have known better that my brother would not stand up for me in the face of strong disapproval from his rightwing Southern Baptist in laws. Pressure was thicker than blood with him and we both went on our separate ways. I have not talked to him since and have not missed the interaction.

As I said, my daughter, along with my future wife Liz stepped up in a major way. Not only was I invited to one family function, but I was also invited to two and I had plenty of turkey to eat.

I hope something like my experience has happened to you. Perhaps in the meantime, you have found non-blood friends to fill the family void you lost from rejection. Sadly, Liz’s dad has passed away and her only brother wants nothing to do with Thanksgiving, so the only dinner we are going to is at my daughter’s mother-in-law's up in Dayton, Ohio. For the first time in many years, her son is supposed to come along so it will make it a family get together.

In many ways, I feel as though I have all you regular visitors to the blog as family also. As you have read along with me, I feel you know more about me than most anyone else. In fact, my daughter set me up with a book writing subscription service so I could write about my life to my family after I am gone. I am at question number eighty-one so far.

I hope in many ways; this beginning of the holiday season brings a festive start for all of you. If you are traveling, be careful and make it safely to your destination.

Once again, thank you for joining me here for my journey no matter where you are.

 

 

 

Stopping was Never an Option

 

Image from Josiah Niklas
on UnSplash.

Very early on, during my very confusing crossdressing years, I wondered if I could just stop the madness of wanting to change my gender as I grew older. I did not know at the time that stopping would not be an option.

As I grew older, my desire to be a pretty girl (then a woman) grew with me. The more I cross-dressed in front of the mirror, the better I became at the basics of makeup and whatever fashion I could get my hands on. Plus, the better I became, the more I wanted to do more to improve myself. Increasingly I knew stopping and purging all my feminine clothes was never going to be an option even though I tried and tried. At that point, I tried a clumsy attempt to come out to a couple friends I had but was rudely rejected. I needed to return to internalizing all my feelings of wanting to be a girl if I was to survive in my world. Which was cruel and unusual punishment for me and more importantly, my fragile mental health. I was already stuck in long periods of depression before I was diagnosed as being bi-polar by a therapist I went to as I grew up and away from my parents.

When I did move away to college, I actually lost my desire to cross dress and act like a girl for almost a year. I did not know how to act when stopping all of a sudden became an option.

Of course, before I knew it, my gender dysphoria came creeping back into my life. I then needed to build my wardrobe fashion, undergarments and makeup all from scratch. I vividly remember the trigger object which started it all. My future fiancé for some reason, found a short wig to cover her long straight hair, and tried to surprise me with it. I was not pleased and let her know it. I then set out to get her a wig I liked. Funds were tight as I worked at a small radio station where I went to college, but I managed to scrape together the money to buy a beautiful long blond wig I had seen in the window of a beauty shop in my hometown. Under the guise of buying, it for her, I had really wanted it for myself. As luck would have it, she did not like it, and I was able to “inherit” the wig when we separated years later.

I kept the wig until I joined the Army for my Vietnam War tour of duty and beyond, as I was able to hide it away on the rare occasions, I could use it to “top” off my outfit when I cross-dressed. Even with all the traveling I was doing with “Uncle Sam” I still was able to anchor myself with the belief that stopping my idea of being a woman was not a fairy tale and could still be possible someday.

It wasn’t until I seriously began to explore the public’s perspective of me as a newly minted transgender woman, did the world start to change and I knew nothing that I was trying in my new world was going to change…ever. Even still, ever became a big word for me as I hit a series of roadblocks to become a full-fledged transfeminine person. Just when it seemed I was moving in the right direction, something would come along and temporarily stop me. At that time, through all the roadblocks, I finally realized I could see my dream of living like a woman was certainly not an option and it would be a shame to waste all the time and effort I put into my path.

I also needed to make the final decisions I would need to successfully put my male life behind me. What I would do about supporting myself and coming out to my remaining family became very important decisions. My only child (daughter) made it easy on me because she accepted me totally. While on the other hand I was rejected by my only sibling (brother) and we became estranged. My parents, second wife and most of my friends that mattered had passed away which made my coming out process easier. One way or another, I had decided to go my own way no matter what anyone thought.

If I had realized earlier that stopping my male to female gender transition was never an option, life would have been so much easier for me. I would have been allowed to live the best I could, make all my mistakes earlier and achieve my ultimate dream sooner. Rather than stubbornly hanging on to a male life I was born into but never wanted.

 

 

 

Transgender Dreams

 

Image from Felipe Delgado
on UnSplash

Obviously, we transgender women and transgender men do a lot of dreaming when it comes to the ultimate results of our lives. For example, when I was very young, I could never speak truthfully when an adult asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Saying I wanted to be a woman would have never been acceptable and would have rewarded me with a visit to a psychiatrist. So, I said something more acceptable such as a lawyer or a veterinarian.

I had to save my ultimate desires to be feminine for my dream world and often went to sleep thinking of how it would be if I could wake up as a pretty girl. Of course, I was never able to take advantage of such a thing happening to me and I needed to make the best of what I had to work with. Which was about ready to radically change for the worse when I went through male puberty. As I started my growth spurt, I rapidly outgrew all my mom’s clothes I had tried to squeeze into and had to rely on my meager allowance added to my newspaper route delivery money to try to sneak out to stores and buy my own clothes and makeup.

Through this portion of my life, my mirror was my friend and helped me to bring dreams of being a pretty girl to life, no matter how I really looked. It wasn’t until I began to experience the public’s reaction to me did, I finally get a fair and accurate reaction to how I really looked. I desperately dreamed of being more than a clown in drag. After tons of work and trial and error experiences, I finally made it to where the public at least knew I was being serious about achieving my dream of being a woman. Little did I know, the real work I would need to do to achieve my dream was about to begin.

The more I explored the world as a novice transgender woman, the more I found I had to do to survive in the new exciting feminine world I had dreamed of being a part of. When I was in the public’s eye, I found I attracted the attention of ciswomen as never before and as I did, I needed to get radical and do things such as talk to them. Initially, I was very shy and completely unprepared to take such a big step, but I was way past the point of ever turning back. For the first time in my life, my dream appeared to be within reach, if I kept learning what my new world meant.

I found I was stuck in some sort of a gender never-never land. Ciswomen instinctively knew I was not Cis but on the other hand, wanted to be in their world. Fortunately, I found most of them let me into their worlds and showed me a path to being successful, if they knew it or not. I did not care how I received the help and guidance; I was just trying to achieve my dream of living as a successful transgender woman. As I tried to point out in yesterday’s post, I went past the point of trying to be trans all the way to just being me. Which I think the women around me accepted because of my honesty. By now, you may be thinking what about the men around me? For the most part, they left me alone. Which was fine by me. I wanted out of their club and wanted nothing to do with going back if I had anything to do with it. I was successful and never did. My dream increasingly appeared to be reachable, and destiny opened her doors for more success for me. Primarily when it came for time to consider going down the path of gender affirming hormones or HRT.

I knew first, I needed to find a doctor to approve taking the hormones and I found one in one of the Dayton, Ohio LGBTQ publications. He had openings and I was able to get in for a checkup and then receive my precious prescriptions for initial minimum dosages for estradiol and spiro to get started on a new path towards achieving my dream as never before. After I began the minimum dosages, I had no adverse reactions and in fact the opposite was true. I felt as if I should have been on the meds for my entire life. They made me feel so good.

By this time, I felt as if I was living proof that transgender dreams come true if you pay your dues such as I did. The dues I paid were certainly the best investment I ever made.