What Kind of Man was I?

 

Image from Christian Lue
on UnSplash.

I had a good question on one of the blogging platforms I write for the other day. The person asked a simple but relevant question about what kind of a man I was before I went down the strenuous male to female femininization I chose for my life.

Here is how I replied: Thanks for the question. In my former male life, I did the best I could to be successful and hide my true self from the world. Early on, I played football and worked on cars to essentially build a wall to keep the teenaged bullies away. From there, I went off to college and earned my first degree, a bachelor’s in history before I was swept off into the Army during the Vietnam years.

After the Army which I was honorably discharged from after three years away from being able to express my feminine self, I ended up jumping back into my cross-dressing ways and eventually getting married for the first time and fathering a daughter. Once again, I was doing my best to do the all the right things to make the world think I was a “normal” male which of course I always struggled with.

From there, I jumped out of the radio business and into the tavern venue world when a friend of mine and I bought a small neighborhood bar where we lived. My dad described it best by saying it had two doors, so the flies did not have to stop when they went through the bar. He always had away with words. At any rate, the bar did not make it long, but my ownership of the building did. Initially I did not want the responsibility of property ownership but was talked into it by my dad. I think at the time, I did not want the extra pressure of owning anything I would have to get rid of as extra baggage if I decided to make the jump from one gender border to another.

I stayed in my male mode and managed to turn the failed bar into a successful pizzeria until I was drinking too much and lost it too. I was trying to over medicate myself as I ran from my depression and anxiety issues, along with the major problem I had which was of course I wanted to be a woman more than anything else. During this time also, I managed to sneak in another degree, an associates in business, from a local college to take advantage of my veterans’ benefits.

By this time, you can see the theme of my life was not a good one. Anything successful I did, I managed to destroy because of my gender issues. I even lost our house I bought off the GI bill.

Ironically, my life began to turn around when I met the first of the two most influential women in my life. The woman I met worked at a radio station I worked for after I was discharged from the Army and was trying to run the pizzeria successfully. I was literally swept off my feet and ended up divorcing my first wife and marrying the second woman. By the way, both women knew of my cross-dressing desires before we were married. It turned out I was man enough to stay married to her for twenty-five years before she suddenly passed away, wrecking my life for several years before I could rebuild it.

During the twenty-five years I went through with my second wife, I began to really learn I was not the man I used to be as I felt myself transitioning again from cross-dresser to transgender woman. In the meantime, I had thrown my old baggage caution to the side and had built a successful career for myself in the restaurant industry. By the time she passed on, I had built was too much spousal support, family, friends and jobs to casually risk it all and transition. Although it was always my dream to do so. Being the man I was meant I would have to give up the positions I held with civic organizations in town too. I felt flattered to be a part but at the same time never felt really at home there.

After I had given up any hope of ever finding anyone else to be with the rest of my life, I met my future wife Liz, and she was instrumental in pushing me into pursuing HRT by telling me she had never seen any male in me to start with. Her gentle push was all I needed to give away all my male clothes and stop the charade I was living life as a man.

I guess you could say that although I tried hard to be a successful man, I kept trying to destroy any success I had. It took a series of good women to show me the way to where I should have been all along, living my dream of being a transfeminine person fulltime.

My first wife went with the flow and did not seem to care what I did, my second wife approved of my cross-dressing but totally disapproved of HRT and any idea I was transgender, and my third wife totally helped me along. Out of the manhood I never wanted. The only woman left to mention was my internal one who (not so patiently) had to wait for her turn to do more than survive as she needed to thrive for a change.

I hope this answers the question of what kind of man I was before a jumped out of the man’s club and into the girl’s sandbox. I led a complex life of failure and success as a man but never felt as if I was doing the right thing. I was fortunate when good people came along to save me from my self-destructive self. Without them, I doubt if I could have ever made it to the place, I am today.

Thanks for the question! I appreciate any response I get from all of you plus any claps and subscriptions you send my way.

 

 

 

 

 

Your Gender Path maybe Different Than Mine

Image from Erik Mclean
on UnSplash. 

 

Even though many of us share similar paths to our dreams of becoming successful transgender women or transgender men, often our paths diverge and we end up going different directions.

Most of us start out on our own without the help
of an understanding sister or mother and must fill out our gender workbooks as we go along. There is no one to tell us what to wear or how to act in our younger years as a cross-dresser. We just know we have conflicting ideas on what we are doing. On one hand, we cannot wait to put on the pretty dresses we found that still fit us, but on the other hand, we felt guilty doing it. It was somehow taking away what was left of our fragile masculinity.

At that point, most of us were willing to sacrifice that masculinity for the intensely intoxicating appeal of looking at ourselves as pretty girls, especially before puberty got ahold of us and testosterone poisoning set in. We all know what happened then, our bodies grew angles instead of the curves we admired on the girls around us and life would never be the same again. From that point forward, many of our paths seem to diverge. Over the years, I have heard from several readers who put down their urges to be feminine with no problems until much later in life. While others followed a more focused stairstep path which meant meeting and learning from other cross-dressers or transgender women searching for their true meaning to life. I know when I first discovered there were others like me who shared gender issues and I could go meet them; there were many layers of people who attended the socials. Anyone from cigar smoking men in dresses still going overboard to preserve their masculinity to completely femininized transsexual women whose next stop was gender surgeries.

It was then that I began to see and appreciate the different layers of the gender community I was seeing in person for the first time. I could almost compare it to the amazing number of cosmetics I saw the first time I went shopping with my own money to buy my own. The entire idea of going to a mixer of my peers did not work for me at all. I became more confused about where I fit in on the gender spectrum than when I started. I knew I was much more than a part-time cross-dresser but was not committed enough to consider complicated and expensive gender realignment surgeries which were still fairly rare back in those days. The direction I decided to take was one of experimentation which I found set me apart from many of the other gender conflicted individuals I had met.

I certainly would not recommend the direction I took because it involved a certain amount of risk and way too much alcohol in the mostly gay venues I initially was going to. What happened was, I used the fake courage of the alcohol to allow me to take ill advised chances in places I should not have been as a single woman. Especially a transgender one. I was fortunate when I escaped unharmed in a couple of situations I should have never found myself in as I was dressed way to provocatively for where I was going and one time in particular found myself having to be bailed out by my second wife who had warned me ahead of time about my mini-dress being way to short. I attracted the unwanted attention of a cross-dresser admirer who was huge and had me trapped in a small hallway with nowhere to go when my wife grew curious and came in time to rescue me. Believe me, it took me a long time to live that incident down with her.

Even when I became a regular in the big public straight sports bars I was going to, I would not recommend my methods of establishing a path to gender freedom as a trans woman. Being a single woman in a public place can sometimes be dangerous to the point where you don’t see many ciswomen do it. They always bring a friend or two for safety which it took me awhile to finally come to the point where I could do it too. My only recommendation is to act like you have a friend coming to join you by acting as if you are talking to them on a cell phone, or “save” a seat next to you with your coat if it is wintertime. Better yet, you can solve the problem completely by sitting at a dining room table, but what fun is that?

Another way to attempt to find companionship is through the use of social media. I tried that too and had to sort through a tremendous amount of trash before I hit the jackpot with the person who turned out to be my third wife Liz. Unbelievably, she contacted me on a social media site which I was listing under woman seeking woman. Better yet, it turned out we were within driving distance of each other and began to correspond until I became brave enough to talk to her on the phone. I was so ashamed of my voice to do it. I finally jumped off the deep end and had success as we started to date. That was over twelve years ago and we married and are going strong I am happy to say.

I see and hear from so many transgender curious people who are on the gender edge in their life with no evident way out. My only recommendation is that at some point you need to take chances if you ever want answers in your life. The only certainty is if you do nothing, nothing will happen. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that you do have to be careful though with all the scammers out there these days and all the negative people you may encounter if you decide to go public. With the political arena and anti-transgender laws which are being passed in many states such as my native Ohio.

No path is right and who is to say, your path is not right for you even if you decide to stay in your closet which is safe and not risk giving up things such as spouse, family, friends and employment. Maybe you can experiment too as you discover which path is right for you. As I said, be careful of the stop signs and bumps ahead.

 

 

I Had to do Something Right

 

Image from Mark Farias on Unsplash 

In my dark days of confusing cross-dressing, I vaguely knew I was doing something right. Or at least I thought so because I could not wait to try it again.

Looking back, it was the brief moments of gender euphoria which clouded all my doubts about my gender and kept me going. Even through the nights when I was the laughingstock of teen girls in malls, a little voice kept telling me to keep going and eventually I would improve my overall feminine presentation so that I would blend in and not get noticed. Along the way, I even needed to lower the expectations I was putting on myself to keep going. I was never going to be the most attractive woman in the room, but at least I could still be like most ciswomen I saw and live a decent life. Even though I started to feel this way, I never gave up the idea I could do better with my makeup, fashion and hair so I could survive. Simply because I was enjoying the experience so much.

Later on in my life, doing something right extended to my interaction with the world as a novice transgender woman. I was surprised when I attracted more attention from ciswomen than men and just thought they were curious about me and were welcoming me into their worlds, while men were just the opposite. Most resented the fact I was leaving all of the male privilege behind (along with the good old boys’ club) and moving to the other side of the gender border. I did not care because my need for companionship was being satisfied and I had always gotten along with women easier than men most of my life. Increasingly I found I never wanted to go back to the male life I was attached to by a spouse, family, friends and jobs. It seemed the longer I waited, the more male baggage I was building up when I really did not want to.

The next problem I ran into was the impostor syndrome I was feeling. Specifically on the girls’ nights outs I was invited to. It never failed that right in the middle of me enjoying the evening, I had suspicions sneaking up on me that I did not belong there at all. I was an impostor in a scene made up of women who had worked their entire life to get there. It took me awhile to come to the conclusion that I had worked my entire life also to make it to my own version of womanhood, and I deserved as much as the next woman to be attending. Fortunately, I received very little negative feedback from other women attending the get-together, so I did not have to face my impostor syndrome at all. I was doing something right for a change to even be invited to such special women only events.

I was able to take my experiences with girls’ nights out to my everyday life primarily because it built my confidence as a transfeminine person so much. With my newfound feelings, I worked even harder on my makeup, fashion and hair to appear more feminine than ever before. Primarily, I learned the power of contouring and colors on my face from professional makeup artists I met at the cross dresser-transgender social mixers I went to. One in particular, took the time to explain what he was doing in terms I could understand and repeat on my own. It was a powerful experience when I had to set my makeup ego aside and learn better results from a professional. From that point on I worked on taking weight off, so I had a better opportunity to find and buy more fashions that flattered my male figure at the many thrifts stores I frequented. When I arrived at that point, the problem then became getting out of the mirror and started putting my new improved feminine self into motion in the world. It proved to be the most difficult part of me doing something right.

Suddenly I had to consider how I was moving as I tried to mimic the unique way ciswomen move and put all my male linebacker moves behind me along with the scowl on my face I was used to wearing as my male defense mechanism. And the most difficult issue of all was learning to communicate one on one as a woman. I knew with certainty I would have issues with my communication, but not to the point that I did. I even went to the extent of taking vocal classes to improve my feminine basics and be able to talk easier in the world with women and men. It just made sense to do if I was continuing to do something right.

It turned out, the more I did right and received positive feedback, the more I wanted to do to refine my feminine approach as a transgender woman. Because I always had the belief, I needed to be better than the average ciswoman to just survive behind the gender curtain. When I was just trying to do something right, on occasion I paused to reflect on how far I had come along my gender path to arrive where I was. I did remember that scared little boy dressed in his mom’s clothes in front of the family’s hallway mirror, wondering what was next. For the most part, back in those days, there was very little to let the young boy know he was doing anything right.

Somehow, I survived all the negative feedback and impostor syndrome problems and continued forward to a better world. One I wanted to be in and dreamed of my entire life. As I love to say, as with any woman, I needed to socialize myself into the world. Being born female does not automatically make you a woman, you must learn to be one. The same was true for me. I just took a radically different path to earn my womanhood. I needed to do many things right to arrive at my dream.

 

 

 

 

New Therapy Visit

 

JJ Hart with "Brutus" Buckeye
at Columbus, Ohio. 

As promised in a recent post, I am passing along the results of my new psychiatrist visit this morning.

First of all, I needed to run the waiting room gauntlet after I got checked in. The woman checking me in was very nice and I had no problems with my pronouns which was different from the past. After that, I needed to walk past the rest of the waiting room men waiting for their appointments. When I did, I received the usual number of stares and glares I normally get, so I was not upset over anything new.

Very quickly, my new therapist came out to greet me. I was relieved when he turned out to be a younger man as I have found to be more accepting of gender situations such as transgender women and trans men.

As we started to go through my past, I was surprised at all the information the Veteran’s Administration mental health system acquired on me during my previous appointment. All I needed to do was fill in the many blanks he asked me. Immediately, I tested him by telling him my former fulltime psychiatrist separated my transgender issues with my struggles with depression and anxiety. He agreed with me that the issues I have are separate and should be treated separately. Furthermore, coming out in the world and expressing myself as a transgender woman fulltime had helped me express that side of my personality, the help never resolved my other issues.

Other issues we covered in-depth were my suicide and self-harm attempts. It was decided my medications were working and we should stay on the course for the most part. Those were the difficult issues we talked about and others we finished up with included my childhood and military service.

This appointment marked the next to the last move from all my care from the Dayton, Ohio VA hospital to the Cincinnati VA. All I have left to do is my endocrinology doctor services from Dayton to Cincinnati which could be the most difficult move of all. My next appointment is coming up early in May and I need a refill on my Estradiol prescription. With the current situation in Washington, I do have a constant paranoia that my HRT hormones can be cut off at anytime by the VA under direct supervision of the orange war criminal. I think what I am going to do now is go ahead and get my refill then try to transfer my needs down here and close out my need to deal with Dayton at all. As a point of reference, Dayton VA is in close proximity to where I used to live before I moved the nearly one hundred miles to move in with my wife Liz.

From there, my appointment was over and my next visit was up as a virtual appointment in three months. I finished the early morning off by stopping at our favorite coffee shop, drive through and picking up coffee and a breakfast sandwich. I am happy to say the shop’s LGBTQ flag is still up on the wall and the young man at the window probably was gay and very friendly to me. All the better for me and the perfect ending to a great morning.

Just a short post to check in on my progress with my VA mental health care which has overall been a very positive experience over the years. When I started many years ago, I had to educate everyone about what a transgender woman was all about. These days, they know and I don’t have to.

Fortunately, I did not have to explain myself this morning and I look forward to my next appointment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Gender Woes were Always Pending

 

Image by Samual Regan Asante
on Unsplash. 

From the earliest days of my life, my gender always seemed to be “pending” as the bank likes to call my most recent on-line deposit.

In my cross-dressing days, when I could afford it, I jumped daily into different wigs, clothes and makeup styles. I was desperate to find the next best thing which would help my feminine presentation along and I was always waiting for the public to acknowledge me. Positive or not, I was always pending their approval in my life.

Along the way, I did get better with my looks and became better at blending in with the ciswomen in the society around me. But I never lost my desire for approval. It became key to my survival as a novice transgender woman, long before I discovered there would be so much more if I ever wanted to slip behind the gender curtain and live my dream life. By then, I was lapsing back into my brainwashed family idea that nothing was ever good enough which carried over to my male to female femininization activities. My confidence was so low, and fragile that the smallest negative comment would send me back to my cross-dressing drawing board as I wondered if I would ever make it.

At that time, I survived in my world by listening to a little voice in my head which was telling me all this turmoil was pending if I just stayed on my path. To do so meant negotiating many blind curves, bumps, and stop signs along the way. Before I knew it, my path was littered with failed fashion choices, wigs and drag style makeup. I needed to choose wisely what I would need to keep before I attempted to move on.

One of the most dramatic pending issues I had was when I made the jump from gay to straight venues. When I did it, I had no idea if I could, so I had to gather the confidence to do it. I needed to be better at blending my style so I would fit in but not too flamboyant to attract unneeded attention as a single woman by herself in a bar. I became very good at using my cell phone as a prop to act like I was saving a seat in the venue for a friend. Among other things I was doing to present and blend in as a transgender woman. I was not concerned so much about being read as trans but was concerned about not being a distraction. Even though I became successful and was able to become a regular at a couple venues, my relaxation was always pending as I needed to stay on guard for any crazy reactions to my being there at all.

The whole process helped me to heighten my senses to where ciswomen normally operate on a daily basis. Since I was primarily dealing women in my new life, it was key that I was able to read my gender cues correctly because the cues were coming from a different angle than they ever were when I was a man. Women primarily were curious what I was doing in their world and was I projecting an honest view of myself. When I passed their tests, I was allowed in to play in their sandbox. There was room for me after all and my dreams of living in a feminine world suddenly became so much more feasible. Something which was always pending before I was able to get out into the world and experiment as a transfeminine person.

The problem became; I was forced to remain pending in my life at a time of extreme gender discovery from me. As the world of ciswomen were exploring me, I was exploring them and learning tons of information on what I would have to do if I ever chose the final male to female transition. In other words, I was able to turn their curiosity around to satisfy my own.

Finally, I arrived at the point of no return when I had done enough experimentation as a novice trans woman to know where I wanted to go to live my dream and I knew I could if I played my cards right. I knew in many ways, this final transition I was planning on making would be the most difficult to do. I would have to try to wrap my male life up the best I could. Which involved deciding what baggage I wanted to bring with me following nearly a half of century of living.  As far as family went, I was down to only two who were still living and I knew I really wanted my daughter to accept me, which she did and my brother who I figured would be a problem and he was. He rejected me and we ended up going our own separate ways over a decade ago.

I knew too, I would have to find another way to financially support myself because my employers never would. For once, age came to my rescue as I was close to being able to take an early social security retirement and augment it by selling the numerous amounts of collectables my second wife and I had collected over the years. With the two sources of income, I calculated I could not have to work another job as I transitioned.

With those two major potential problems behind me, I had very little pending to stop me from moving ahead to the hormonal world of HRT which proved to be immensely satisfying and something I should have done years before. Rather than making the process another pending idea I wanted to try.

By now, you probably know the rest of the story. I am seventy-six and the remainder of my life is shorter than what I have previously lived. Even though I am immobile, I am fortunate to still get around and have someone who loves me. I just hope good health is not pending and I can live peacefully with myself. Which at times during my life has been an issue, including my mental health. I am meeting with my new therapist this week and will have more to share later.

 

Everything Was Fine Until It Wasn't

 

Image from Danny
Messina on UnSplash

Many times, when I was sailing along thoroughly enjoying my feminine self out in the world, I would come to a rude awakening that something was not right. As I experimented as a novice cross-dresser fresh out of the mirror at home, I learned any number of things could be wrong. Including the cruel imposter syndrome which haunted me. A great topic for another blog post.

Or maybe my makeup was not on point, and I looked like a clown in drag, or I had that old male scowl on my face instead of a pleasant little smile which gave away the fact I was not enjoying myself the way I should. But something was wrong as I was doing what I wanted to do for a change, and I needed to show it. Not revert to my old male ways of trying to scare people off before they even started to interact with me. It is something I work on to this day as it is easy for me to fall back into old gender habits. I needed to work hard to put my entire new feminine image into play when I was out or no matter how good my makeup and fashion looked, I was not going anywhere in my development as a transgender woman.

A quick example of the problems I was facing with my face happened one day when I was out shopping in a woman’s clothing store. When I came around a rack of clothes, I was startled by a young girl staring up at me. Worse yet, I was prepared for the worst when she took off looking for her mother. I was semi-relieved when I heard her say, look at the BIG woman, and I thought she had that part right. Until she said, the BIG MEAN woman, and I immediately felt bad that she thought I was mean. From that point forward, I put a slight feminine smile on my face as my final touch of makeup. Everything was right with the world that day (including the little girl who thought I was a woman) until it wasn’t.  Lesson learned.

Changing the way, I looked at the world with my face was just the beginning of improving my overall presentation in the world of ciswomen, young and old. Early on, I paid quite a few brutal dues when it came to encountering groups of teen girls in the malls I went to. We all were in the process of discovering our femininity, and the girls took their humor out on me vocally and it hurt but the process helped me to develop myself to a point where I could better blend in with the new world I was trying to conquer. I just had to learn to conquer in a different way than I had ever had to before. I could not just hope to bluster my way through life as a man which I had gotten used to, I needed to finesse my way through until I began to feel the benefits of female privilege past the occasional man who opened a door for me.

Everything was fine, until I learned I was just getting started on my dream to live a transfeminine future. I had no idea how complex a woman’s life could be with a passive aggressive future in store for me. Plus, a future where for a change, to survive with other women I needed to completely listen to what they were saying and make sure I looked them straight into the eye, so I did not miss any nonverbal communication which was coming my way. Several times, I was helped out of potentially dangerous situations with toxic men by paying close attention to the nonverbal cues being given to me by concerned women with much more experience than me.

For the most part, this time of my life, in my thirties and forties , everything was fine with the gender juggling act I was attempting until I pushed myself too hard, challenged my mental health and continually got in trouble with my second wife who caught me trying to sneak back into the house after a night of living as my newly thriving feminine self. At that point, massive fights occurred which ended with me trying to promise I would never go out again. Which I knew would never happen. Once I had seen the world from my vantage point of a trans woman, deep down I knew I could never go back to a completely male life. I think my wife knew that too and that is why the fights we had became so vicious. Particularly when she told me I made a terrible woman because (in my words) my gender workbook was not filled out, and I had not paid my dues. Which was exactly what I was doing when I went out to live. I was sad I couldn't share my new knowledge with her but it was just not meant to be before she suddenly passed away.

After she died, nothing was fine as I was intensely lonely and needed a shoulder to grieve on. I found that shoulder in a predictable place and she was there all the time, my transgender self. When failure was not an option in my life, all the lonely nights I spent exploring the world around me with other women proved to be an invaluable experience when I learned I did not “make” a terrible woman after all. It turned out, I did not “make” anything at all, I just found my way to a place I always should have been, and everything turned out of be fine and I could take the wasn’t away from it.

I was even happy for the first time in my life as the heavy expectations of a male life I wanted no part of were removed for good. Being free to be the true me was the best move I ever made and my only problem was I did not do it sooner. Everything was fine, it was just hidden from me by myself. When revealed, I was free to never look back.

 

 

What is THAT Sound?

 

Image from Jason Rosewell
on UnSplash. 

What’s that faint noise I hear far in the distance? It took me awhile to figure it out, but it was the sound of my feminine self-yearning to be set free to live. Very early on, I thought she would go away as I aged but the opposite turned out to be true. She grew stronger as the years of my life progressed.

That is when I started to realize just looking at my cross-dressed self in the mirror was just not going to be enough. I wanted more of the feminine life I had experienced. What I was experiencing was the idea of I had much more than a casual interest in women’s clothes and makeup. I was more into how they lived. The term transgender had not even been invented yet, so I had nothing to compare my feelings with. I did not think I was transsexual like Christine Jorgensen, but I was certainly different from other cross dressers I was seeing in my well-worn copies of “Tapestry” and “Transvestia” magazines. When all of that happened, the sound kept getting louder and something larger was wrong with me and it took me years to realize what was wrong with me was not what the sound was telling me.

I went on fighting myself searching for the truth I was looking for when it was right in front of me if I chose to see it. I ignored the advice of my handpicked gender therapist (one of the few I could find back in those days) who told me she could do nothing about me wanting to be a woman but could do something about my manic depression. Which I always had thought was something to do with my gender dysphoria. She told me it wasn’t and helped me by prescribing medications to help me in everyday life. At the time, it turned out, I was ready for help with my depression but not ready to face the facts about my gender future. I was used to loud sound from my days as a radio DJ and I was stubborn enough to want to hang on to a dual gendered life.

At the same time all of this was happening, I was beginning to explore the world as a novice transgender woman and learning every time I went out what the sound I was hearing really meant. I had life all backwards with my struggles to live a male life and the sound was telling me increasingly I was destined to be a woman all along. Not in the mold of having extensive major gender operations but doing it on my own schedule as I marched to my own drummer. Yet another sound which was growing in volume. Before I did though, I needed to undertake an extensive program of more exploration. I desperately did not want to make the move across the gender border at some point and find out I had made the biggest mistake of my life. My spouse, family and job meant so much to me, giving them up for no real reason scared me beyond belief.

Every time I began to have doubts about my upcoming gender decisions, my drumming sound grew louder as I felt more alive and natural when I was allowed behind the gender curtain with cisgender women. The work I was doing to prove myself to the world finally was paying off, for the most part. When I suffered a setback, I had the confidence and experience as a trans woman to do the right thing and move forward in my new life as I followed the sound of gender success. During this time, even though it is a blur to me now, I still remember that it all was not pleasant as I went through the turmoil of deciding which way I was going to turn next.

I know what you are thinking, what was she doing even thinking about turning her back on the gender future she had worked so hard to build. But I did as my male self stubbornly tried to drown out the sound my feminine life was making. Perhaps desperately would be a better term because of all the male privilege he had built up. He was desperate to hold off any more change.

Finally, the sound of change became deafening to the point where it could not be ignored anymore. I was not getting any younger and my transgender transition clock was ticking, loudly. As I had a huge heart to heart talk to myself, I came up with the decision to seek a doctor’s approval for HRT or gender affirming hormones as a natural progression of my feminine progress. In addition, I decided the hormones (if my body responded positively to them) would be the point of no return. I would have to come up with a different way to support myself financially, plus gather the courage to tell what was left of my family the truth about myself. As it turned out, the hormones began to feminize me faster than I ever thought possible and soon it became increasingly difficult to hide my protruding breasts, longer hair and softer skin than ever before. Long story short, my daughter accepted me and my brother rejected me as I revealed my life to them so I had the best of all worlds with the support of my daughter.

Ironically, one of the changes I went through was I had a greater, deeper appreciation of sound and music as a transfeminine person. I had gone full circle in my life understanding what that sound was and better, yet what it meant to me.

I always loved being right when it mattered most, and it did when I relaxed and listened to the sound of my gender spirit. I should give all the credit where credit is due…to the little sound inside of me who said keep trying when the going gets rough. Through the good times and the bad times, she was always there to help me survive.

 

Facing my Deepest Fears

 

Image from Tonik on Unsplash. 

Over the decades I have found that my gender desires have produced the biggest fears and anxiety I have ever felt.

Prime examples came from the times I was first testing the world as a transgender woman. The number of occasions I needed to sit in my car making endless tries at adjusting my hair and makeup until I felt everything was right to attempt going into whatever venue I was going to. You would think from the number of times I had to face my fears; I would have at least become used to it. But I never did. In fact, I developed my own form of trans PTSD from the number of times I was rudely rejected by the public. I could not get it out of my mind that if I was laughed at once, I could be laughed at again. Which I discovered just was not true after I learned to dress for the public of ciswomen around me.

Finally, a little confidence began to creep in, and I did better for the most part, but it seemed the fear of being myself just would not go away. Maybe I can blame my old male self who in his own way was as strong willed as my feminine self and did not want to give up all the male privilege he worked so hard to earn. His reluctance to give up pointed to a deeper problem I had. The fear of facing myself. At the same time, my dreams of even trying to become a fulltime transgender woman in the world seemed to be a far-off dream.

What I decided to do then, even though I still was experiencing deep fears about my future, was experiment by going out into the world a little at a time. I started in what I perceived as safer spaces such as shopping malls and gay venues. If and when I was successful (or grew tired of) in those places, I would try more challenging places. Lessons I learned included money overcame gender problems in the malls and I was just considered another drag queen in the gay bars and made to feel completely out of place. I discovered to enjoy myself more I would need to try to frequent the same sports bar venues I went to as a man. Where I could drink draft beer and watch my favorite team on the big screen televisions. Sure, I was scared to do it as I knew how single women were viewed in sports bars, but I had to try.

Desire overcame fear and I was successful as long as I followed my three basics of smiling, never causing problems, and tipping well. Before I knew it, I was a regular and gained the backing of the bartenders who even saw to it that I had restroom privileges. Before  I knew it, I had built a small circle of lesbian friends who shared my love of sports, as well as another transwoman. Loneliness became a thing of the past for me, and my fear of being seen as a woman was going away too.

Just when my trans confidence was at an all time high, obstacles such as drunk guys would come along and ruin my evening. The night I remember the most was when a bunch of drunks noticed my trans friend and I at the bar and started playing “Dude Looks Like a Lady” time and time again until the manager asked us to leave. We did, temporarily, because a month later when I was in a nearby competing venue, I was surprised to see one of the bartenders who was there when I was asked to leave approaching me. I was astounded to learn the manager who had kicked me out had been fired for drug use and I was invited to come back. So much for the drunks who had played that song over and over and I had put my fears to rest. To this day though, when I hear that song, I cringe.

Sadly, even though I have been in the public’s eye as a transgender woman, I still look over my shoulder when I do things like use the restroom. Fortunately, I have Liz to help me out when I have to go and mainly these days, I don’t present as trans as much as I do as old and partially immobile. I am happy these days when I can find a restroom with a handicapped stall to take my fears away.

My deepest fears now revolve around the number of ridiculous restrictive anti-transgender bills currently in the Ohio legislature. One bill would make it illegal for anyone to wear makeup different than their birth gender. Which I guess would mean the orange felon or his sidekick Vance would be arrested if they come to Ohio. I am lucky that age and years of HRT have softened my facial lines to a point of where I don’t wear much makeup at all but what about the younger transgender population. Hopefully, none of this will actually happen or the courts will strike it down.

These days, I have managed at least to calm down my fears of what will happen to me if I have to go into assisted living or if I develop dementia like my dad had. I finally came to the conclusion not to worry about something I have no control over.

I don’t know why I waited so long to be paranoid over what has made my life worth living over the years and decades. I used to be a go with the flow type of person and if I got myself into some sort of a mess, I could get myself out of it. Probably now it is because I have to depend on my wife Liz for so much. Fortunately, most of my deepest fears came from pursuing my gender truth and when I came out to myself, I proved that I was the most important person of all to be truthful with. It was not until then did my life began to change for the better and I could live without all the fear I was experiencing.

 

 

 

 

Easter Envy

 

Image from Annie Spratt
on UnSplash. 

Once again, it is Easter and time for some ciswomen to model their new colorful, feminine dresses and accessories to the world.

Like most of you, I remember the envy I felt when once again I needed to be forced into a restrictive suit and tie for one of the rare occasions we went to church. Why couldn’t I be one of the girls in their Easter finery. All the envy in the world I felt did me no good as off to church we went. My parents thought I just did not want to go to church (which I didn’t) but did not realize the real reason. I was just jealous of the girls.

Back in those days, I had very little inkling of how my desire to look like the other girls ran much deeper than I ever thought it would. I was scratching the surface of where I would end up in life as a fulltime transgender woman. I thought it was an innocent hobby that perhaps some day I would grow out of when the opposite happened. I grew into it. If I had any idea of all the growing pains I would feel over the years as I grew into my true self, I don’t know if I would ever undertake the gender path I did.

The truth of the matter is that I did not think I had any choice. I was born into an unforgiving male world that I was expected to excel at. I knew too that if my cross-dressing or gender secret was uncovered, I would be sent to a psychiatrist and told I was mentally ill. I did not know exactly what was going on with me, but I knew I was not mentally ill for just wanting to be feminine. On the other hand, I knew my WWII/Depression era parents would have any idea of what was going on with their eldest son to take any creative measures to help. The first measure would be acceptance. In my wildest dreams, did I ever think they would buy me a pretty new dress for Easter and do away with my suit and tie forever. My parents were simply not built that way so that they could step out of their rigid parenting box to help me. I was stuck in a male world until I could figure a way out on my own.

Over the years, regardless of setbacks such as military service, I was fairly successful in my male life. Which ironically made it harder for me to give it all up and cross the gender border when the time came. One thing I never lost was the envy I felt for all ciswomen who inherited from birth what I wanted so bad. I kept remembering the girls and women in their Easter dresses, even though I rarely wore a dress as I attempted to blend into the world as a woman. It seemed fashion had gone away from the frilly feminine basics once I arrived at the point where I could take advantage of the new world I was in. For years what I did take advantage of was the fashion trend where I could wear oversized sweaters with miniskirts, flats and opaque tights. Sadly, fashion moved on, and I needed to also if I was still going to blend in with the world as a transgender woman. Not only did I have to try to equal the cis women I was around, I needed to be better. So, I went with denim mini’s with long flowing tops to attempt to hide my oversized male torso.

Even with all the effort I was putting in, it never seemed to be enough to compensate myself for not being the pretty girl in her new dress at Easter. Ironically, then I found out from my wife Liz how she was a tomboy and did not like all the frilly Easter fashion she had to wear and was always under inspection from her mom on getting her new white tights dirty. I learned the view of the other gender side was not always the better one. It left the door open for a greater understanding of what females go through to be socialized into women and why some never make it.

This Easter, if you are religious, I hope you have the opportunity to celebrate the true message of the day and you don’t get hung up on what the ciswomen and girls around you are wearing. Although, I don’t see many women getting all dressed up for any reason anymore. Maybe if I attended any sort of church services at all, I would.

At any rate, celebrate Easter in your world the best you can!

 

 

 

 

 

A Labor of Love

 

Image from Mayur Gala

Once I stopped being a victim thinking I was the only male in the world who wanted to be feminine, I quit being so negative about my life as a whole. That is when I started to enjoy wearing my mom’s clothes and experimenting with her makeup. All I really knew was that the process of cross dressing took away the problems I was experiencing in everyday male life to the point of even relaxing me. The only real issue I had was when the next time was I could find the privacy to do it.

I even went to the point (in warm weather) of stashing a small collection of clothes and makeup in a hollowed-out tree in a woods next to our house. I was in my own world and enjoyed the privacy I had to feel the clothes and dreaming that I was one of the attractive girls I saw at school and envied very much. At that time, I did not understand how I would take on a lifetime of work to pursue my labor of love.

The first task I needed to accomplish was when I was financially able to do it, was shop for and acquire a whole new set of clothes so I could present better in a world of ciswomen I needed to compete with in many ways. The first task I needed to complete was to slim down my male body as much as I could so I could fit into more stylish clothes I was suddenly finding in all the thrift stores I was shopping at. I liked the stores for two main reasons, the first of which was price of the items displayed and secondly, I never had any problems using the changing rooms to see if the items I was looking at actually fit. Plus, the challenge of doing so much shopping was something I loved. The only problem was where I was going to store away all my fashion treasures from the prying eyes of my wife who would wonder where they came from. Fortunately, we had a huge old house with plenty of places I could store my clothes.

After I began to dramatically improve my worldly presentation and use the public as my mirror, I found myself in a position where I could blend in with the public. To test myself, I even did tricks such as wearing sunglasses where I could see the eyes of the public when they could not see mine. That way, I could tell if they were staring at me or not and I was overjoyed to learn I had passed the test, and the public was ignoring me. From there I could widen my horizons on where I was attempting to go as a novice transgender woman. I was in love!

My love ironically did not last long because very soon, I discovered the public actually wanted to interact with me. Suddenly, I needed to work on a presentable voice so I could attempt to basically communicate mainly with other women since men did not want to have anything to do with me since I left the men’s club, I used to be part of. The fact remained; I did not miss male interaction at all. It was something I never had in my male life either as I always preferred the company of women. Surprisingly to me, as I transitioned, I was having no problem gaining feminine company. Probably because ciswomen for the most part were curious about what I was doing in their world. Plus, the women did not carry the paranoia about their sexuality that men had, they were not scared of me. Finally, I was showing the ultimate honesty about who I was which many women appreciated. For any number of those reasons, I loved the interactions I was having and being able to learn more from them about being a woman than ever before.

The fact I was loving my life at this point as a transfeminine person led me to realize that for the first time, my life was headed in the right direction. I felt so natural and even happy when I followed my gender path to a point where I was allowed behind the gender curtain to see if I really wanted to give up all my male privileges and keep moving forward to my ultimate goal of starting gender affirming hormones or HRT. If I could be approved by a doctor to do it. As I always say, I was approved and the changes were magical and I was in love again.

Before you begin to think my love revolved just around me and not another human being, my future wife Liz came into my life over a decade ago and changed everything. I was in my sixties and was thinking about spending the rest of my life alone when Liz and I met on an online dating site. We got along and she turned out to be the final push I needed to leave the male world behind. She was the missing link I needed to turn my transgender life around, and I love her very much.

It feels good to say that I love someone else more than I love myself or my gender transition for the first time in my life. According to my second wife who died many years ago. It would be interesting to see now what she would have thought about the feminine person I have become.

My final point is it is said you must love yourself before you can truly love someone else. Maybe I needed to learn my true self as a transgender woman before I could love someone else. It certainly took me long enough to love myself, a lifetime for me which spanned over half a century. Once I realized my path was a long labor of love, I learned the hard way I needed to be patient. Which was difficult for me, but I made it through and learned from my labor of love.

 

 

 

 

Gender Lost and Found

 

Image from Ewoud Van Der
Brandon on UnSplash. 

On occasion, I think you must hit rock bottom in your male life before you can begin to build a new feminine one. I equate it to my own transgender lost and found in my life. Before I get into what I found when I started my path to my dreams, I decided I had to have a basic knowledge of where I wanted to go.

Seeing as how I was born into the pre-internet times when information came in magazines arriving in the mail, I was stuck in the “Transvestia” world of Virginia Prince if I wanted any information at all about transvestites or cross dressers, as Virginia called us and oh yes, we had to be heterosexual to join. Through it all, I was intrigued by the pictures of attractive men dressed as women, as well as the entire world of mixers you could go to. If you happened to live close enough to one to go which I did. Ironically, the mixers I attended did not do me much good because the only mixing which happened involved my brain when it was all over. Often, I left more confused about where I wanted to be with my gender struggles than when I started.

None of my searching was helping much and my attitude about myself was sinking to an all-time low. I felt lost and forsaken in my life and felt sorry for myself because I was the one who wanted to do away with being male and assume a feminine existence. It took me a while, but I finally backed off from being a victim and my ideas of whom I really was started to improve. I had hit rock bottom and was beginning to improve, which helped primarily my fragile mental health. My goal was to close my transgender lost and found department for good.

Sadly, I was a little ahead of my time to closing my department because I still had so much more to learn about existing and competing in a world run by ciswomen. With or without men. I labored under the impression if I could present well enough as a woman with my makeup and fashion, that would be all I needed to do to enter the world as a trans woman. I totally ignored all the layers of life a female needs to go through to be socialized into a full-fledged woman and I was painfully aware not all females make the transition. And even more aware of the path I would have to take to make my own transition because I had even farther to go to make it to my goal. I needed to be even better than the average ciswoman to be able to be accepted in the world and be allowed behind the “sacred” gender curtain which women used to provide a layer of protection from men.

On my path to going behind the gender curtain, I had at least one big stop sign I needed to work my way around. It was proving how badly I wanted to give up all my male privileges and start all over again. I just did not magically appear in the ciswoman’s world asking for admittance without paying my dues. My transgender lost department was closed as a man, and I found I had done the right thing by pursuing a feminine life. My only problem was that I was impatient about the road I was going down and constantly I wanted more. Before I knew it, I was even getting ahead of myself in the plan I had set up for my grand gender transition. Here I was busily carving out a new feminine life where no one knew me as a man while at the same time I still had a loving wife, family and good job to deal with because I knew I could lose them all when I found my transgender self completely.

My problem also was, I was filling out my gender workbook faster than I ever imagined I could and my plans were coming into focus. No longer did I have just dreams of the possibility of transition into a feminine world, I had the reality of doing it. My lost and found was gone from my male side and he had finally begun to see the reality of his situation and gave in to the feminine side of life which was taking over for better or for worse.

It was at that point in my life when I pursued my ultimate dream of pursuing HRT or gender affirming hormones as the next step in my transition to being a transfeminine person. I went to a doctor for a physical and was approved to start a minimum dosage of the precious new hormones I was taking. Almost immediately, my body began to feel the changes as if it had always been meant for them to happen. The changes always take a whole blog post to describe, but to put it simply, my internal changes such as my new emotions would fill a book. The external changes became quickly obvious too, as my hair grew along with my breasts and my skin began to soften along with the angles of my face. I can only describe the changes as amazing and magical as they made living as a man impossible to me anymore. I had to close my male life and never look back.

I can not oversimplify it enough about all the stress and work I put into to close my transgender lost and found for good. To be sure, it was a labor of love to do it, and I would have never had it any other way. If Indeed I had another choice anyhow. Once I determined I never really did, I could relax and get rid of my guilt about doing away with all the male privilege I had worked so hard to earn. In the end though, it was worth the struggle.

 

 

Transgender Day of Visibility

 

JJ Hart doing trans outreach work. 

Transgender Day of Visibility was yesterday, and I did not post because I was out most of the day being visible.  Which was a change for me.

In the morning, I had several low impact visits to venues I feel secure in, so I did not feel any undo stress in going.  My first visit was to my local Veteran’s Administration Clinic to have my annual hearing check.  Even if my wife Liz perhaps may disagree, my hearing stayed the same and my next appointment was set for two years from now. From the VA, my next stop was at our bank where I needed to pick up a certified check. I was surprised when the bank was relatively busy and I needed to wait. Which is a problem with my mobility issues. Two very nice women helped me out by directing me to a chair saying they would guard my place in line if anyone else came in and tried to cut ahead of me. From there, it was clear sailing because the teller I went to was young and did her job very well and I was out the door before I knew it and there was no reason for anyone to question my gender. I was just a woman running errands as me. The best possible response I could have to my day of Transgender Visibility.

I knew my next stop would be easy because I was going to our favorite coffee shop to pick up a late breakfast and coffee of course. Over the space of time I have been going there, I have never had any problems with any of the staff concerning who I really was. The staff is always immersed in what they are doing to be concerned about me and even had a LGBTQ flag on their wall for a while when they had a decidedly non-binary manager in charge which was good to see.

My third and final interaction for the day came with a young woman who was a bath consultant at a company we were considering putting in a new walk-in shower to replace a dangerous (for me) old bathtub we had enough of. While we were in the small talk get acquainted part of the process, she asked what I did with my time since I was retired. I said, mainly I write a blog, and I am writing a book for my family to read after I am gone on my life. She was interested in what I blogged about. Then I broke my own rule, outed myself and said I write mainly about what goes on in a transgender person’s life. Of course, I needed to say I was transgender and today happened to be the Trans Day of Visibility, so here I was. Since the consultant was young and wanted to sell us something she did not react negatively to the idea I was transgender and married to Liz.

I came away from my own limited day of visibility hopefully thinking I had done my own small part to further the cause of transgender women everywhere to contradict all the negative publicity we get from the politicians. It is important to show the world we are just people like they are attempting to live our lives with no problems. Sadly, with my mobility problems, I cannot be as active as I once was in the community and go to public events like I used to.

Plus, more and more at the age of seventy-six, I am actively becoming me finally in life. It was like going through another major transition. I went from me being a cross dresser to accepting myself as a transgender woman, and now I am completing the circle and going back to me again. Only this time, with a big difference. I am the feminine being I was always meant to be. I was just fortunate to live long enough to live my circle. And celebrate another Transgender Day of Visibility.  And, if you are in the process of thinking of escaping your closet and having your own day. Celebrate those who are leading the way for you! Plus, on a positive note, the younger generations seem to be blinder to gender bias than the older ones, so all is not lost for the future you. Then, you can be involved with your own day of visibility and feel good about yourself.

 

 

Was I being Selfish?

 

Image from UnSplash and
Brooke Balentine.

When I was a maturing cross-dresser, one of my wives made it a prime point of her argument against my cross-dressing at the time saying that I was just being selfish. The problem I had with her saying that was deep down, I knew it was true. Mainly because I was spending all my spare time thinking about or doing my cross-dressing activities. I felt guilty, but there was little I could do about it as I wanted to be feminine so bad. So, I went on with my daily activities ignoring the best I could what she said.

Sadly, my selfish problem only became worse the farther along I traveled up my gender path. I simply wanted more from my life than what I was getting and I was pursuing it. I thought to hell with the risk I was doing to my male world and life as I knew it if my secret was discovered as it almost was several times. Like when I almost ran head on into my wife’s boss going to a big box store in a small Ohio town we lived in at the time. I did not think he recognized me, but he did bring up seeing a a particularly “big” woman the other day when he left work to pick up supplies at a party we were attending at his house one weekend. Of course, I could not let on it was me he was talking about, but my wife knew and questioned me about it later. I don’t think she ever believed my denials, but life went on until I made it to the next level of being selfish.

When I was out in the world as a successful transfeminine person, just doing it a little bit was just not enough. Success bred success, and if I could not for some reason make it out into the world again, I grew angry and bitter with life and tried to take it out on the world around me. By doing so, I even almost lost jobs because of my attitude. Having a sullen selfish attitude got to be so bad, I even sought out gender therapy to help me from one of the few therapists in Ohio at the time who dealt with it. It turned out to be that she could not work miracles with my gender issues, but she did with my attitude which was influenced by being diagnosed with a Bi-Polar depression disorder. Following a few experiments with medication, I found one that worked and my life became better. Except for I did not magically quit my feminine ideas and remained on my selfish path to see if I could ever live my dream of going full-time in life.

What made matters even more frustrating was, even with all the mental energy which was going into my transgender issues my male self was still able to advance in his life too. Making it harder for me to think about moving along with my plans and even being selfish about them at all. Through it all, my guilt was building about why I was even cursed with being transgender at all. This was before I finally began to understand my gender problems were not a curse at all.

In the meantime, my wife and I were clashing every time she caught me being selfish and leaving the house as my feminine trans woman self. One time she was even mad enough to tell me why I wasn’t man enough to be a woman. If I was smart at the time, I would have listened to her advice. I should have faced my true self and started making plans for my ultimate male to female femininization project. I just was not ready for several reasons such I loved my wife very much and the life we had built together.

By now, you have probably noticed a theme here. I kept shooting myself in the foot by being supremely selfish when I set out to build a new life when I already had a perfectly good one with a loyal wife, good job and loving family. All of which helped to describe why I felt so much stress and tension during this portion of my life. All the therapy and medications in the world could not help me until I had the courage to face up to my true self as she looked at me in the mirror. She had been there all along, and I thought I needed to apply makeup to bring her out (which I did for the public) but one on one, she was very real to me. She appreciated all the outwardly things any ciswoman needs to survive but inwardly, she just needed to be recognized for the person she had the potential to become.

Ultimately, I outlived my second wife (and many family members and friends) which freed me up to not feel any selfishness at all about what I was doing with my femininization. I was just busy preparing my world for the truth I had so deeply known. I should have never been a male at all and was just a woman cross dressing as a man. Needless to say, it was an enlightening experience coming out of my gender shell and having the opportunity to live my feminine truth. Just having the chance to compete in a world of ciswomen on their level was an intimidating yet exciting experience which my true self was up to. After living life hidden away all so many years against her will. As with most all transgender women and transgender men, it is a major project to bring ourselves into the world and unfortunately, we must be selfish to do it. The good thing is, once we go through the selfish part of our lives, we have the potential to be good, loving partners. If we are destined to find that special someone to love.

Life dictates it is nothing but a circle, and we have to take the good with the bad. Selfish or not.