A Complex Day

 

JJ Hart. (right) Mother's Day 
last night. Liz on left.

Another Mother's Day is here and as always, it presents me with many complex emotions.

First of all, as I was growing up, my mom was many times the dominant parent in the family, I remember vividly watching her apply her makeup, heels and hose. She was from the WWII generation where a woman's appearance was very important. I think she did a wonderful job maintaining a family of males immersed in boyish struggles. Dad was always present, and was often the deciding factor in our family disputes but mom ruled in all the other areas such as day-to-day discipline between my younger brother and I.  

My mom and I were much alike in many ways. I resembled her except I was close to six foot tall, and she was only five foot two, which made it quickly impossible for me to squeeze into her clothes. Over the years, she never let me know that she knew anything about my cross-dressing habits. Looking back now, I do not think I could have hidden all my feminine collection of clothes and makeup so well from her. She was somehow just ignoring me and my gender issues as just a phase. 

My life as a "transvestite" (as it was known back then) stayed hidden as a topic between mom and I until I was back home after being discharged from the Army. The sit-down did not go well and ended with her offering psychiatric care. From there, the subject of me wanting to be a woman was never brought up again during her life. For years, I held her feelings against her but then started to slowly change after I started to mellow within my own transition. I began to realize, mom was just dealing with life under the only circumstances she had ever known, and change was not in the cards.

What I ended up doing, was honoring her when I legally changed my name. I femininized my maternal grandfather's name as my first name and used my mom's first name as my legal middle name. It was my way of honoring her for all of the sacrifices she made for me.

Then, there was the complex problem on what the kids in my life were going to call me on Mother's Day. Initially, my daughter referred to me as her "parental unit", then began to slowly change over the years. Several years ago, I wrote a blog post which mentioned the first Mother's Day when my daughter referred to me as Mom. Even I was embarrassed to refer to myself as a mom, but I was surprised and flattered my daughter did. 

Now, both my daughter and my wife Liz's son both refer to me as mom on Mother's Day. One way or another, the day will forever bring complex emotions to me. I did receive many negative reactions to my Mother's Day posts, so I will temper this one by saying whatever you believe and however you are referred to, have a wonderful day. 

Doing the Work

 

Image from UnSplash.

In my case, I spent decades doing the work to be able to express my true self as a transgender woman. 

Perhaps you noticed I did not say the work I put into changing my gender, because my gender was always set and it was never the birth gender (male) I was stuck with. The first reality I needed to deal with was I had no feminine characteristics to speak of, so I needed to work harder. When I became serious about women's fashion I could find to fit me, I better shed as much weight as I could. In a fairly short period of time, I managed to lose nearly fifty pounds which made it much easier to find fashion which fit me. 

At that point, I needed to go on a thrift shop shopping binge to show off my new femininized body. If I was careful and shopped well, I learned I could really find a few fashion gems at a price I could afford. After I was able to lower my body weight, I began to work on my skin. Since I was already exfoliating on a daily basis by shaving, I began to apply regular moisturizer to help maintain a soft appearance and use less makeup. Soon, it became apparent to me, my work was paying off to being able to jump the external gender border I was facing.

Little did I know, the real work was yet to come. I was sadly mistaken when I learned just appearing as a woman was not going to be enough. The deeper I went into my new feminine rabbit hole, the darker my journey became as I kept discovering new ways to move forward or back. As I let my gender lantern burn the surroundings finally began to look familiar. But it was only after I put in the work to know the people who were trying to interact with me. Mostly women approached me because I think they were just curious what I was doing in their world and were not afraid of me. Doing the work, I was doing, almost meant women in particular reacted to the honesty of living out the life I desired. Men for the most part just steered clear of me because I threatened their sexuality.

Little did the women know, I was learning as much from them, as they were from me. I was fairly sure I was the first transgender person they had ever met and when I repeatedly appeared in front of them was proof, I was more than just a guy putting on a dress for the fun of it. I was enjoying the entire process more than anything I had ever done in my life, and the time I spent learning was very much not like work. 

What I did learn was doing my gender work and had the opportunity to graduate from all the work and live my reward as a full-time transgender woman. The work was difficult but enjoyable because of all the layers of experiences I needed to master before I could move on. If I was to recommend any basics to a gender compromised person, it would be not to get disappointed with your progress. You can progress on your own timeline. Mistakes will be made, but you can learn from them. 

Perhaps, most importantly, keep in mind the gender work you put in represents your journey is not a sprint but a marathon. How you finish is the most important facet to consider.  Some will run faster and some slower but just finishing is the main goal if you want it to be.

Finding Your Comfort Zone

 

Image from UnSplash.

Being a transgender woman, trans man or cross dresser means you need to find your own level of comfort as you transition.

For all sorts of reasons, some of us decide to go all the way from gender realignment surgeries to deciding to stay in their gender closets. It is a difficult decision to face the possibility of losing everything in the life you have worked so hard so succeed at over the years. 

In my case, comfort levels came sparingly to begin with, then increased in frequency as time went along. For example, I had an exceedingly difficult time becoming situated as a novice transgender woman in the world. Possibly, most of my problem came from my own refusal to face up to who I truthfully was a person. My gender situation led me to a very bad situation where I was stuck between the two binary genders, male and female. Of course, I still needed to maintain my male world in the job I worked, but on the other hand, I was spending every spare moment I had trying to reach my comfort level as a trans woman. The end result was, because I was denying my true self (female), I was wrecking my already fragile mental health. 

Fortunately, I was able to work my way through my messy mental problems and come out rather unscathed with the help of a good therapist. Together, we were able to separate my bi-polar depression issues from my transgender issues which dominated my life. And I mean total domination. I was very into advancing my life in a feminine world and attempting to figure out how and when I should let go of my old male self. Finding my comfort zone finally began to come in stages.

What I did was set up what I thought was a mini bucket list of things I wanted to do as a woman. Or at least try to. As with anything else in life, I sailed through a few of the items on my list and hit a brick wall on others. Overall, I was able to use the confidence I gained from my successful feminine ventures and go back to the drawing board and figure out what I was doing wrong on the others. For example, one of the best things I did was stop going to the gay venues where I was only perceived as a drag queen and began going to the sports venues I was comfortable in. When I did, I was encouraged to begin to build a whole new person as I quickly began to establish myself as a regular. Since my business background was in similar venues, I knew the basics of establishing yourself as a regular. Show up often, try not to be a distraction, smile often and tip well were the basics. Since I already stood out from the crowd as a transgender woman, the rest was easy. 

Through it all, the comfort zone I needed the most was access to the woman's room, for obvious reasons since beer was my drink of choice. I was overjoyed when rest room access was granted to me when I became a regular. I even was invited to join other women when they made the short trip to the bathroom. I was very sure I had arrived. 

It is easy to equate being in a gender comfort zone with acquiring all important confidence to get by in a new world. Life was amazing when I was a woman and hell when I was not, so finally, even I could tell a change was needed. No matter how complete the separation would be.

My needs had changed from my old male days and to not face them head on would be a return to the same old gender problems I had faced my entire life. For once in my life, I decided to do the right thing, and I found my comfort zone. My male self-gave up and freed me up to build my transgender womanhood. 

Medical Euphoria as a Trans Girl

 

JJ Hart at Club Diversity.

Yesterday, my yearly visit with my endocrinologist went very well. 

She went over all my blood work from the vampires and said I did not have any problems she could see. Plus, my all important Estradiol level was at the level she wanted it at. Since I am on the hormonal patches, she always asked if I have had any problems with the patches loosening and coming off. For some reason, I have always been lucky, and I have had no problems with my patches ever which has saved me from taking the injections I would have to give myself. 

After further pleasantries were exchanged, she asked if I had set up my next visit to the vampires for my annual bloodwork which I plan to do this summer. Sometime before my annual mammogram. 

Probably the most important question I asked her was how safe her job was. She paused and laughed she did not know which was the answer I expected to hear...sadly. I am selfish and love the fact I have been with her for years and do not want to go through the problems of breaking a new endo doc in most likely down here in Cincinnati. Where the Veterans Administration hospital is very congested and difficult to access. So, again, I will have to expect the worse and hope for the best as far as my healthcare is concerned under the current administration. 

While I am on the subject of my VA personnel cuts, tomorrow is my weekly meeting which used to be called the LGBTQ support group before the administration forbid any references to the LGBTQ world at all. Now, the word is the Dayton, Ohio hospital where the support meeting is held, will be cutting back three hundred fifty people in the coming months. So. every week, I expect the moderator of the group to be gone. If it happens, I will be sad because the moderator does such a great job of controlling the group. Which with my experience in support groups can be hard to do. 

 Looking ahead to other summer happenings my wife Liz and I are planning.  First of all, we want to go north to Columbus, Ohio to revisit two of our favorite venues. One of which is called "Club Diversity" which is a piano bar and lives up to its name of having a very diverse clientele. Before we go to Diversity, we always have to stop by "Thurman's" who has the best burgers in Ohio for a great dinner. It's been a while since we have been to either place, so it will be great fun to go back. 

Also, we will have fun when we go to my daughters for a combination birthday party for my son in law and two of my grandchildren. It's scheduled for the Fourth of July weekend and should be a good time to break the summer monotony. 

All in all, I am hoping for my contacts to not lose their jobs, and their lives can go on. Selfishly, it all makes my life so much easier and adds so much more euphoria than just medical. 

 

Gender Bystander

JJ Hart (left) and wife Liz (right).

It took me many years to learn I was nothing more than a gender bystander in my life.

As a young male type, I was always painfully shy of strangers first and women in particular. Girls seemed to live a magical life I could only dream of. In particular, the girls were the ones who were allowed to wear the colorful, pretty clothes while I was stuck in the same old drab male fashions. The closer I watched though, the more benefit the girls around me had. While I was too shy to even ask any girls out on dates, the attractive girls always seemed to have no problem with attracting attention. 

The problem with being a bystander was I saw only one side of the spectrum I was looking at. For example, I learned much later in life being the pursued gender (women) did not always mean good results. As if, what if no one pursues you? And what if the male pursuing you happens to be a toxic guy and you are stuck trying to get rid of him. So much to consider when you are a gender bystander on the outside looking in. 

I needed to pay my dues before I could ever begin to consider I was anything more than a bystander in my own life. Specifically, I needed to get past the impostor syndrome I was feeling on the nights I was feeling comfortable in my transgender womanhood. I needed to stop feeling I was looking down somehow on another completely different person, when in essence, it was the dominant feminine me all along. It was not until I completely accepted my true self, did others accept me also. Magically it seemed, my gender doors swung open, and I was given access behind the gender curtain of cisgender women everywhere. It was then I began to explore what I would do about my sexuality.

When all of this was happening, most everyone around me I knew from the transgender mixers I went to were seeking their feminine validation from seeking a man. Which meant also pleasing a man sexually. My problem was, being a bystander or not, I had never desired a man in anyway shape or form, so what was I to do? What I attempted to do was explore the world of men from a transgender woman's perspective. I went online, and I tried to find men to date to no avail as I was stood up more times than I care to remember. I only was able to go out with men a few times and one of those was with a transgender man. 

Finally, destiny stepped in, and I found a group of lesbians who would accept me which I always mention. Primarily, the lesbians showed me I could stand on my own two feet as a femininized person, and I did not need at all a man to validate my existence. When I did, I stopped being a gender bystander. I knew where I was coming from, and my goals were clear. I needed to begin HRT or gender affirming hormones as soon as I was approved for them. By doing so, I was giving my feminine self an extra tool to assist in her development. 

For the first time in my life, I was no longer a gender bystander in my own life. I discovered women did not receive all the breaks and, on the other hand led a very complex and layered life. Sometimes carefully crafted with or without men. It was quite the journey, and I was so pleased I could do it and survive. It was so enlightening not to be a bystander in my own life anymore. On hands help was the only way to live. 

Primary Voting Day

 

JJ Hart Speaking out.

Today is the day to vote in the Ohio state mid-term primaries and is one of the voting days I cherish so much.

I cherish voting so much for several reasons. The main one of course is it is it's my duty as a citizen to vote. Another big one always comes when I have to show my driver's license to receive my ballot. I will forever remember the first time I had to present my new license with my gender marked with an "F" for female. I am sure no one in the crowded line was prouder than I was. Probably even more so than the first time I ever voted. 

After my wife Liz and I vote, tradition has it that we go out to eat at a nearby diner style restaurant. So, I will have to step up my feminine appearance a little. I am picking out a different pair of leggings and shoes to wear along with a light sweater, since it still a little chilly and rainy in the Cincinnati area. Of course, I will also shave and apply a light coat of makeup so I can look as presentable as possible. 

Sadly, if the current administration gets its way, my path to voting will be much more difficult under the so-called "Save" Act. As I understand it, I may need to present a birth certificate as a second form of identification to prove I was born in this country. The problem is that my name on my birth certificate had never been changed and does not match my new legal name anymore. To make matters worse, it is nearly impossible in Ohio to have a birth name changed on a birth certificate. I would be stuck between a legislative rock and a hard place along with so many other women, trans or cisgender and my precious right to vote would be gone. I guess I will have to face that challenge when I come to it. 

Speaking of challenges, tomorrow, I have a long-awaited appointment with my Endocrinologist. I say long awaited because my virtual visit with her has been postponed before. I get my hormonal medications through the Veterans Administration; she is my gate keeper and has to approve my all important gender affirming hormones. Perhaps all of you remember, recently the new administration in Washington at first dictated no more HRT for veterans through the VA. Then they partially reversed their edict to cover only new vets which is bad enough but obviously did not include me. 

My next problem could be coming up soon with my Endo herself. The word is, the Dayton, Ohio VA hospital where I receive part of my care will be cutting three hundred fifty of its staff. Which means I could lose access all together to the staff responsible for dispensing and monitoring my meds, Again, we will see what happens with her and the moderators who run the LGBTQ support group I go to virtually every Friday. 

It turns out voting maybe the least of my problems thanks to many circumstances I cannot control. Thanks to a convicted felon who is destroying the country. 

All I Saw were Walls

Image from Cristina Hernandez 
on UnSplash.

 I saw walls everywhere as I needed to build my own gender closet to protect me.

When I discovered I needed walls to protect my gender secret from the world when I was quite young, I managed to build strong ones. Difficult for anyone to penetrate because I felt something was basically wrong with me and if I was discovered, I knew a psychiatric visit was in my future. Back in the late 1950's and early to mid 1960's, any form of cross dressing was still considered a mental illness, and I knew well enough I was not mentally ill from wanting to try on dresses and makeup. None of that served any positive purpose, and I was driven deeper into my closet of walls. 

Soon enough, I began to escape my walls and began to explore the world as a cross dresser, long before I made my second major transition into a transgender woman. In the beginning, and for years afterwards, I grew frustrated on my progress and began to take more and more chances when I left the house as a woman. It was almost as if I was trying my best to get caught. So, everyone could see in my closet of walls and discover what was really going on with me. One way or another, discovery could lead me to a release of the gender torment I suffered from, and I could go on to live the life I had always dreamed of.

What I discovered was, dreams and reality were two different things. Or could I ever hope to go out and mix in well enough with the world of everyday cisgender women and survive. I was quite naive for years and thought I could be accepted as my form of an everyday woman by simply looking the part. Which led me to many memorable experiences in the girl's sandbox. Many of which I barely survived because I had allowed the wrong woman access to my closet. I had wrongly thought some women would allow me behind the gender curtain without a struggle and I needed to escape the sandbox with new claw marks up and down my back. Over time, my wounds healed, and I became a seasoned veteran of survival in a world ruled by women. 

As I did, my walls became the path of transition to transgender womanhood I was taking. I needed to plan far past just a day at a time presenting as a woman the best I could. How was I going to approach the time which was rapidly approaching when all of my life would be consumed by living my dream, and how did I stop it from becoming a nightmare? To make matters worse, I kept running headfirst into walls set up by my old male self. He never wanted to let go of his world and I needed to be careful I did not slip back into it when I was not paying attention to the way I walked or communicated in the world as a transgender woman. I was capable of ruining my whole day by forgetting to smile at the world, doing my best to talk like a woman, or move like a linebacker in drag. It took me years for muscle memory took over from my feminine side and I began to climb the walls I needed to be successful in the new gender world I was in. 

The best part was, I was seeing fewer and fewer walls. I had passed most of the challenges I had set up for myself. When I did, I became much happier and knew if I tried to stop the train I was on, I would go back to the miserable life I was trying to live between two genders. There was no way I was going to do that because of all the time and effort I put into releasing myself from all the walls I had built.

Reality

JJ Hart, middle, with Min and Kathy

 It took me years of denying my true gender identity to finally face the reality of who I was really was.

To do so, I needed to transition more than once to my surprise. I was naive and thought when I just put on a dress and makeup I was done transitioning. When in truth, I was only beginning my gender path. Deep down I knew there was something deeply wrong with how I viewed the world in all ways. Did I view it as male or a female. The only fact I did know was I was completely alone with my gender issues. There was no one else to talk to. 

Reality was a dark closet with no doors I could escape from. My only outlet was admiring my image in the family mirror growing up. I even went to the extent of taking on a rural newspaper route to add to my meager allowance to buy my own makeup and panty hose. By doing so, I could stay out of my mom's makeup and stop risking the possibility of snagging or running her hose. If you remember the panty hose which came in an plastic egg, I was a huge fan. The difference between just dressing in the clothes I found or bought was growing huge. No matter how much I cross dressed and admired myself in the mirror, the reality was, it was just never enough. Whatever I was doing, I could do it better. 

One of my biggest problems or dreams was to have my own glamorous wig. I grew up in the era of crew cuts or shorter hair for boys so there was nothing I could do to style what hair I had into anything resembling a feminine style. I was caught for many years, college in fact, before I could manage to sneak around and buy myself a wig I loved. It was long and blond, and I cherished it. I viewed the wig as one of the final pieces of my cross dressing puzzle. Maybe then, I could actually try to enter the world as who I was actually beginning to perceive as my authentic or true self. Little did I know, I was just spreading the seeds of my gender future.

The reality was, suddenly I was realizing I was following a life's path I wanted to be on. Each time I attempted to jump off of it, by purging all my feminine possessions. When I did, I could barely live with myself and could not wait to return to the protective confines of my transgender womanhood. Even though the path was bumpy and often threatening, the alternative of going back was even worse. The path allowed me to enter an oasis from life for me to judge where I was and where I wanted to go. As I always say, I was careful and took my time because I had so much to lose in my male life. I needed to make sure I was doing the right thing before I entered the world of women fulltime. 

Reality showed me the way; I finally put aside everything I had which screamed male and never looked back. As I said, the path I took was long and dark and I made my share of mistakes when I ran into the walls. The powder keg which was me needed to be de-fused so I could live a free life in a very pleasurable environment. I can't say the wait was worth it since I had no choice. I was stuck in a male world of my own making and did not have the courage to realize I had the power to break out and live my truth...or reality. 

She is With Me

 

Image from UnSplash.

It took me far too long to decide who was with whom in my life.

For the longest time, I thought I was a man cross dressing as a woman, but the opposite was true, I was a woman cross dressing as a man, and for the most part failing at accepting all my efforts. Through it all, my female side was pressing ahead for dominance in my life. It was difficult because my male self was so situated in the life he had created, he did not want to give any of it up. After all, white male privilege was so difficult for me to establish, then give up. He certainly was not giving up without a protest. 

To make matters worse, I was always painfully shy around girls and women, so my workbook on women was pretty much blank when I needed it. Many times, it seemed I was flailing in the dark when I first attempted to open my gender closet door and sneak out. What I began to do, very slowly, was piece together a set of positive public experiences I was putting together from my new life as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. Once I did, I was increasingly proud to say, she is with me. 

Little did I know, at that point I would have to take my new femininized life one step at a time. Naturally, my earliest steps were scary. Except the ones when I went to local regional mixers in Columbus, Ohio at a transexual friend's house. There I learned a few of the different layers of transition I could expect to follow. If I decided to follow the path some of the attendees were on. The research was important because my whole life was in the balance. I had a wife, family and a great job to worry about. Plus, I met all sorts of new and different people under the LGBTQ spectrum, from lesbians to cross dresser admirers, I saw it all.

The whole process made a huge difference in my life. Finally, my old male self was seeing the end of his dominance in my life and regardless of the warnings he gave me that I was going to lose it all. Even though I was having the time of my life, I was still scared of the ultimate outcome, or how I wanted to live for the rest of my life. I was in much deeper than ever before and deep down I knew just throwing on a dress and wig was not ever going to be enough. I kept going back to to my formative cross-dressing years when I realized I wanted to do more than wanting to look like a girl, I wanted to be a girl. It was to start me on a lifetime of learning what transgender womanhood was all about.

The journey was a long one for me as it started with no external gender information available to me in the dark information days before the internet. It continued with meeting and learning from all sorts of women from very supportive lesbians to unsupportive cisgender women. The message began to come through loud and clear; she is with me and had always been so.

It's all in the Energy

Image from Ava Sol
on UnSplash.

 Every once in a while, I receive a comment about how I must have been brave to pursue the gender path I chose.

While I think the word brave is a little too strong to describe what I did, I do think courage may be a better word. Looking back at all the days when I was a novice in the world as a cross dresser or transgender woman, I wonder how I made it. I cannot emphasize enough how many mistakes I made in those early days. Through it all, I finally realized, being successful meant I needed to add another layer of work to my presentation. 

Of course, the major one was how I presented and was able to blend in with the world as a woman and be accepted. Then there was the problem of taking my femininized image out of the mirror and adding movement to the picture. It was difficult for me to approximate as closely as I could the fluid movements of cisgender women in society. Then, I discovered I needed to work adding another layer of feminine energy to be truly accepted in the world as myself. I was not looking to be mistaken for a cisgender woman but, on the other hand, still be accepted as anything but a man just putting on a dress parttime, or worse yet, some sort of drag queen. 

My goal was to carve out a new life as a woman from a different background. What I tried to be was be kind and smile to the women who were curious about who I really was, and what was I doing in their world. I even went as far as mentally trying to project a feminine aura into the world around me. I practiced so much, the process became second nature to me. If cisgender women were capable of projecting so much positive energy, then so could I. There was to be no more sour male expressions designed to keep the world away. 

When I started to put all three of my energies together, my life as a transgender woman began to come together. I just wish now, I had not waited so long to understand the road I was on. My deep, dark gender closet was not so dark that I could not find my way out and arrive at the light. My only excuse is I did not understand the size of the closet I was dealing with and how much energy it would take me to break free. Once I did find the light, I learned from then on, success as a transgender woman would only be dictated by how much energy I put into understanding the road or path I was on. If I did not give the process my total attention, I found I would never make it. Which caused major problems with the rest of my male life which was demanding energy also. 

Attempting to juggle time at my job and time with my wife, took a tremendous amount of energy too, and I was exhausted. Finally, I could take the pressure no more and gave in to my inner feminine self who was screaming for her chance to live.  When she had the chance, she seized her opportunity and ran with it. Especially when I added gender affirming hormones into the mix. 

From then on, I began to realize it was all in the energy, and for me, it was all feminine as I entered transgender womanhood.

Trans Girl at a Birthday Party

 

An image I took at one of the tables at the
birthday party. 

As I previously wrote about, I recently attended a birthday party for a dear friend of mine who happens to be a transgender woman recovering from a stroke.

For the party, I chose a bright colored red loose-fitting top paired with flats and my paisley patterned leggings. My makeup was a close shave followed by moisturizer, foundation, lipstick and eye makeup for a change. 

The only problem I had was getting my GPS voice navigation to work so I did not have to keep looking down at my phone for directions as I drove on busy highways. Even still, I was able to make it there and back with only three miscues when I needed to turn around. Since my wife is from Cincinati and knows the city well, she normally does all the driving, so I am not used to gathering my courage to do it myself. I was able to calm down and breathe a big sigh of relief when I made it. 

My friend is very popular and had a large turnout of around twenty people in the venue she chose. It was her first time out into the world during her recuperation and handled it rather well I thought. Scattered in the group were five or six transgender women who I had not seen in quite a while. It turned out the cisgender woman I ended up sitting next to was very nice and we had a nice conversation with another woman (cis) across the table. I was a little surprised how the conversation never turned to how we all met the birthday woman, but it never did. She took a picture of the two of us, so maybe someday it will turn up so I will be able to pass it along. 

All in all, I enjoyed myself and was able to sneak past the crowds to see my friend to drop off a card and gift from Liz and me. I could tell she was struggling with all the interaction, so I was able to say hello and goodbye without any interruptions. I came away from seeing her again with a ton of respect for anyone recovering from a stroke and hopefully soon, we can meet up again on the patio of a restaurant we used to regularly go to. One that even I can find!

Second Chances

Image from Mitch on UnSplash.

 
Very early in my final transition from male to female life, my wife Liz told me to make the most of it because very few human beings ever get the chance to stop their lives and start all over.

Her comment made me feel better and yet scared me more as I stared over the gender cliff I was looking at into what I perceived as my dream life. No matter how much time and effort I put into the final preparation into transgender womanhood, I still did not know the full extent of what I was facing. More precisely, I did not have any conception of the uphill battle I would be facing to leave my old male self behind. Once I was behind the feminine gender curtain on a regular basis, I discovered how much further I needed to go to be successful. 

 Following several (many) well documented mistakes in my presentation, I was able to successfully femininize my external male body to a point where I could blend in with other women in the world on a regular basis. I say external presentation, because my internal idea of who I was still presented a problem. It really wasn't until I began to take gender affirming hormones, did I feel as if my interior self was changing to match my exterior look. Very quickly, I began to feel differences to my emotions and for the first time in my life, I could cry tears of sorrow or joy. As the world around me changed, I could feel changes in temperature and even smell as my senses heightened.  Needless to say, I was amazed by the changes and so surprised as I waited for the next set of changes to set in. 

As with anything else in life, the gender changes I was feeling from the hormones began to slow down, and I began to settle into the new life I had made for myself. It all meant finding a new set of friends which I did who turned out to be a small group of lesbians who accepted me for what I was, a woman from a different path than them. When I did fit in, it meant my sexuality would not have to change to men which was successful for me and also meant I would not have to seek out a man to validate my existence. 

Once my new life got rolling, second chances did also. I was able to take an early retirement and live off selling most all of the vintage collectibles my second wife and I had purchased over the years. It all meant I did not have to worry about working another job where I would have to transition at. No second chances needed. 

Perhaps the most important realization I learned from my gender rebirth was, I did not need much direction. As suspected, my inner woman took over quickly and made all the difficult decisions such as moving in with and ultimately marrying my current wife, Liz. Between the two of them, I give all the credit for shaping me into transgender womanhood and making me into the person I am today. 

Diversity is Wonderful

 

LGBTQ Flag, Jack Lucas
Smith on UnSplash.

This morning, I had several errands to run ahead of a fun birthday party I am going to tomorrow. 

The first stop I needed to make this morning was to a local pharmacy which also sells greeting cards, so I could pick up a card for my friend tomorrow. It did not take me long to find a suitable card and I moved on to check out with the guy at the front cash register. For once, since I had such a small purchase, I did use real live cash which I think threw both of us off. 

As far as the cashier went, I had the deep suspicion he was of the LGBTQ community, as he greeted me warmly. After making small talk concerning how nice of a day it was, I left in route to my second stop, putting gas in the car for tomorrow's trip.

At the gas station, I was not prepared to do anything else but pay at the pump and not see another person. All of those plans went away when the card reader at the pump did not work, and I had to go inside to pay. Again, all the reservations of meeting another person were set aside when the cashier was very nice to me and again, I went on with my day.

My next stop turned out to be the toughest and it did not even involve another person to interact with. It was me trying my best to navigate a new ATM at my bank, so I can give a little birthday gift tomorrow. Whoever designed the new machine did not figure out the person using it needed to be a master mover to use it.  Fortunately, there was no one else in the drive thru, because I finally needed to undo my seat belt and open the door of the car to finish my transaction. 

My final stop was to the nearby coffee shop which my wife Liz and I enjoy, and even I found a way to make an easy trip to a drive thru more difficult. When I arrived at the coffee shop, two huge trash dumpsters were blocking one of the entrances to the business. So, then I needed to follow another road around the end of the building to go into the drive thru from its back entrance. Which I finally did. After I ordered and made it up to the window was when the diversity of the day really began to set in. 

As I looked up into the store from my car, what did I see on the wall, but a huge LGBTQ Pride flag. Right then and there I knew it was nice to be wanted in a diverse situation. Especially, in today's world. 

The party tomorrow should be another comfortable diverse situation. It is a birthday party for a transgender woman friend at a big Italian restaurant in a nearby suburb of Cincinnati. To my knowledge, this is the first big outing of my friend's recovery from a fairly major stroke. 

If I don't get lost getting there, I will let you know how the party went for my transgender friend.  

Was I Outdated?

 

My wife Liz. Key West Florida.

Along the way in my increasingly long life, I have considered myself to be outdated. 

As I grew up through the late fifties and the early to mid 60's, I went through my mom's fashions, all the way to the short mini skirted times when I was in middle school. By the time I had cross dressed my way in the mirror to a place where I could control it at all, the world of fashion had changed, and I was outdated for the first time. My miniskirts gave way to hippie boho fashion. I loved the long-haired hippie women around me.

By now you are probably thinking I was resistant to change or was simply ignoring the overall basics of women's fashion. The biggest basic is that fashion always changes. A woman is encouraged to go with the flow of fashion for a number of reasons, good or bad. As I see it, the good or fun aspect of fashion are the seasonal changes. I write occasionally about when the seasons do change here in Ohio, how satisfying it is for me to go through my wardrobe and judge what stays and what goes. It is at these times; I have to figure out if I am outdated or not and most importantly, does it still matter to me at my age. 

As I am sure you all know, as cisgender women age, they go through progressions especially involving their hair. Many start wearing the longer hair of their youth and as they age, the hair becomes shorter and shorter. It was the one age trend I resisted until I had quite a bit of my hair trimmed off at the end of last year before my wife Liz and I went on vacation. It turns out, I fit right in with the other women on the vacation tour we went on to the Florida Keys. 

Just fitting in, was something I never wanted to do. Preferably, as much as possible, I wanted to be on the cutting edge of fashion, if, it involved having a Boho lean. I never got over the admiration I had for the women during my college and military days when I was required to wear my hair short. I made up for the short buzz cuts I had to wear by wearing my hair longer than almost all other women during my senior years. 

If you are familiar with "Stana Short" on the famous Femulate blog, the short she is referring too is in regard to her length of hemlines on her famously long and shapely legs. I never had to face the skirt length dilemma following my love affair with miniskirts in my youth until the eighties I believe it was when they briefly returned. One of my favorite outfits I had was a black mini I wore with one of my fluffy long sweaters and a pair of flats when I went out shopping. It was one of the few times in my life as a transgender woman that my fashion matched the majority of what cisgender women were wearing.

These days, at the age of seventy-five, I am happy to be able to stay active and mobile at all. Sometimes I think my favorite colorful leggings make me outdated in my fashion, but I love them and that is all that matters. I suppose too, I am allowed to be outdated. 

Every Eye was on Me

JJ Hart

 When I was first entering the world as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman, I felt as if every eye was on me.

For the most part, most eyes were on me. Especially from other women. I vividly remember the times I was looked from head to toe by another woman. Slowly but surely, she was undressing every aspect of my fashion and making no secret of it. I thought at the time, I was just being introduced to the aspect of womanhood and to just get used to it.

At the same time, I was working on my overall femininized presentation, I was trying my best to mimic the way women move so I would not appear as a linebacker in drag. My adventures took me as far as trying to walk like a girl in large box stores late at night. I wonder now how many security cameras I made it on trying to perfect my walk. Through it all, I needed to be careful I was not walking the wrong way at the wrong time. Or for example, remember to not try to walk like a woman when I was working as a man. The entire process became more difficult the more I began to split down my time increasingly in favor of being a woman. I started with just cross dressing when I could a few days a week and ended with splitting my time four days a week in a feminine world versus three as a man. The whole process became even more complicated because I was still working my full-time job as a man. Especially when it came time to getting a new pair of glasses and I wanted to change over to feminine frames. 

The most difficult aspect of what I was attempting to do was the mental aspect of trying to juggle both main binary genders. I needed every moment to work on my transition and get used to all the nuances of it. A big portion of the process involved being looked at. At the least, no matter how well I applied my makeup, styled my hair and picked the right clothes for the occasion, I was still a big woman and would naturally attract attention. I attempted to conquer the size issue by losing weight. I responded by losing a significant amount of weight which helped in two ways. I could fit into better fitting women's clothes and at the same time look better when I went through another woman's inspection.

Of course, I was inspected by men too, but the inspection was much simpler, and I knew what it would involve. Women on the other hand, had more to look for since they had experience in the fine points of putting outfits together. At some point in their life, they had to put together everything from shoes to wardrobe to hair to put an outfit together. Since I needed to do it too, I knew what they were looking for and tried to plan for it. My accessories needed to match the rest of my hand-picked outfit to succeed. Even still, the times I went through helped me to prepare my future life as a transgender woman. 

If every eye was going to be on me, I was just going to have to adjust and do the best I could. If it was possible, I would try to thank all those women who looked me up and down. They taught me what I needed to do to succeed in my future. 

Opening Your Eyes

 

Image from Jesper Brouwers
on UnSplash.

I found I needed to be careful as I tried to negotiate a difficult gender path to transgender womanhood. 

Most likely, my eyes were open for the first time when I explored my mom's wardrobe for clothes and makeup I could try and see myself in the family's full length hallway mirror. When I saw myself, my eyes somehow were opened, and I knew I could never go back. Being a so-called normal boy was not going to cut it. 

From my humble beginnings, a small fire within me grew to a point where I knew I could never turn back from at least trying to set feminine goals and living up to them. The problem was, I had no workbook to rely on when the going got rough. I had no girls sleep overs to go to, or a mom to council me on my appearance. It came down to my relying on the mirror to tell me everything I needed to know about my femininized life, and it turned out the mirror could easily lie to me. It would tell me I was pretty, when in fact, I looked like a clown.

Following being rudely rejected by the public, my eyes were finally opened to the fact I needed to make changes in what I was doing if I was ever to survive. Soon I was haunting every nearby thrift store I could find for just the right feminine wardrobe items to add to my closet. It took a while, but I began to turn the corner and began to work my public presentation to a point where I could blend in with the cisgender women around me. My only real problem came when I did not have the finances to purchase the rare item, I thought I needed in the worst way. An example I still remember was a full-length wool powder blue coat I found at a discount coat store. It was in my size, went with my blond wig and I desperately wanted it. Long story short, no matter how many times I went back to the store and admired myself in the mirror, there was simply no way I could buy it. The main problem outside of affording it, was where would I hide it from my wife when I got it home. I needed to give up and move on to a cheaper alternative to keep out the Ohio cold. 

My eyes were really opened when I was allowed behind a rather formidable feminine curtain which women use to protect themselves from men. First of all, I needed to earn my way into their inclusive club by proving I was much more than a casual observer of women and most of all, not another drag queen. Step by step as I earned my way into a new and exciting gender world, I knew I was making the right move away from a male life. Mainly because I felt so natural in my experiences I was having. I cannot say my life was easy back in those days because I was stuck between two genders but on the other hand, each time I reached a new point of success, then I could not ever turn back. Again, because I was feeling I was headed in the right direction. 

Another problem I had during my journey was making sure my vision was correct. It was easy to have 20/20 vision when I was looking at myself in the mirror, but much harder when I was having a conversation with a strange woman. I was burnt many times when my vision of what was going to happen was blurred. 

Each time my eyes were opened, deep down I knew I could never go back. 

Wishes were not Enough

 

Image from Delphina Iacub on UnSplash.

In yesterday's post, I wrote about the amount of time I spent wishing I was a girl as I went about attempting to live a male life.

As I pointed out yesterday, I finally arrived at a point where every spare second, I was becoming dedicated to my pursuit of becoming a girl. Which included watching the girls around me closely at school. I was desperately jealous of their fashion and lifestyle. 

As I became older, in order to survive in the world, I put less time wishing I was feminine and adding more time into actually doing it. Which meant of course I needed to unlock the door to my gender closet and try to enter the world as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. Back in those days, I took a lot of rejection, as I thought I looked like a clown in drag. Stubbornly, I persisted until I could find the right mixture of makeup skill, fashion and wigs. Once I did, my life across a new and exciting gender border became much more satisfying and fun. So much so, I was fooled into thinking my feminized wishes were coming true. 

It was about that time when I hit a gender wall as I found out what my wife was telling me all along, I had a long way to go on my path to transgender womanhood past just looking like a woman. I needed to quit wishing and find out what she was talking about. 

The more I explored the world as a trans woman, the more the world opened to me as gender curtains were pulled back. Of course, I knew cisgender women had their own world to exist in but I did not know how strong and in-depth that world was. For the longest time, my head was spinning as I tried my best to absorb the daily lessons I was learning. Primarily about communication and co-existence with other women on their playing field. Certainly, wishes were not enough when it came to surviving in a woman's world. I found I drew the curiosity of other women who wondered what I was doing in their world, and I had to be better than the average ciswoman just to get by. 

It was about this time; I decided to take a shortcut in my external femininized appearance and research doctors to see if I was healthy enough to begin gender affirming hormones (or HRT). I was, and the hormones almost immediately went about making changes such as softening my skin and producing breasts. All of which helped me to help my presentation skills. Especially, since I did not have any male pattern baldness and quickly was able to grow my own hair out and go wigless. 

I found by this time, wishes did not have to be enough, and I could move up my final transition timeline. Finally, my long-awaited dream could become a reality, and I could put my hated male clothes away forever. Perhaps the best part was, I never wished for him to return.

A Destination or a Journey?

JJ Hart

 Early on when I was stuck in my dark gender closet, I viewed myself on a way to a destination, not much different than a vacation from my male self. 

Then, when I began to experience more "vacations" than I could handle, I began to notice I was on more of a journey than I thought. Looking back, I was missing all of the signs I was much more than a part time crossdresser, pursuing a harmless hobby. The difference always was I wanted to do more than look like a girl, I wanted to be a girl. Needless to say, I spent many hours of my spare time wondering what my true problem was. Time, I wished I could have back. 

Instead of getting any of the time back, I invested it in my femininized appearance in the mirror, and I still thought I was on some sort of a mysterious journey no one else knew anything about. It would be years before I was able to attend transvestite mixers to meet other likeminded people who I thought were on the same path as I. Imagine my shock when I found out I had waited so long to find out I did not fit in well with almost all of the others who were attending the mixer. Somehow, I just still felt different. Probably because most of the attendees viewed themselves as men in dresses and my views of my gender self were just beginning to form and they were so much deeper than thinking I was a man in a dress. 

It was about this time, I realized I was on more of a journey when I began to know transsexual women who were making the ultimate gender step in their life, gender realignment surgery to be exact. I was very intrigued by the idea and deep down I wondered if that was the journey I was headed on. The problem was I was stuck where I was in my male life and was not prepared like my friends were to make such a serious move. To be sure, gender surgery would certainly be a journey for me as I had quite the complex male life I was living and to be truthful, on occasion, I did enjoy the white male privilege I had earned. 

All I ended up doing on my journey was screwing up my mental health. Simply, the stress of juggling two of the binary genders became too much and I was very self-destructive. It was then I knew, my gender path was so much more than just a destination and I really needed to step up my game if I was going to survive. It was decision time. Either I went forward as a transgender woman or retreated back into my male world. 

The deciding factor was I felt so natural as a trans woman, so I did not stop my journey until I made it to a point where I could save my mental health and even my life. Certainly, even though I had reached many destinations along the way, my life turned out to be a gender journey which at times was touch and go. I ended up not going and stayed the course to my own form of transgender womanhood and was a better person for it. 

The Ultimate Confirmation

 

Image from George Pagan III 
on UnSplash.

My ultimate confirmation in life came when I arrived at a point when I knew without a doubt, I needed to live out the remainder of my life as a transgender woman.

My journey took me to the age of sixty when I finally put my male clothes away and live my dream. Along the way of writing the blog, I have received many interesting comments. Many concerning why I took so long and equating my time as a very serious cross dresser as somehow meaning I was never actually transgender at all. The best all time comment I received was, I was just another old guy on hormones. The comment came so long ago, I do not even remember how I responded.

I can make many excuses as to why it took me so long to transition completely such as I had a wife, I dearly loved who was against it, and a job I worked years to get which paid me well. While those are the given reasons, my ultimate confirmation came from the fact, I just did not have the confidence in myself to do it. For years, I was still being laughed at any time I went out in the world as my femininized self. Before I became very serious about my presentation and lost nearly fifty pounds off my masculine frame and began to take better care of my skin so I could wear less makeup. At that point, the laughter stopped, and I began to acquire the all-important confidence I needed to live my new transgender womanhood. 

Without confidence, I had nothing and little by little, I began to acquire it by doing trips into the world which took me away from the easy malls and clothing stores I was accepted in for my money, to the restaurants which presented me with whole new challenges to overcome such as having to communicate with servers and bartenders one on one. I even went as far as to stop going to the gay bars I thought were safe and going back to the big sports bars I was used to going to as a man. At that point, my ultimate confirmation was establishing myself as a regular at a couple of key venues where I was even given restroom privileges. Obviously, my confidence skyrocketed to a point where it never had been before. I could not wait to do more and more. 

Even with my newfound confidence, a fulltime life as a transgender woman eluded me. There still were huge life questions such as what would I do to support myself, all the way to how I would tell my friends and family. It was about this time in my life when destiny stepped in and answered nearly all my problems. In the space of a couple tragic years, my wife passed away, along with nearly all of my close friends. Leaving me all alone to guide my life in any direction I wanted to. The direction it took me was straight to gender affirming hormones which the Veterans Administration health care system was just starting to prescribe. Since I already was a VA health member, I went through the approval steps and was approved for the HRT program. 

My male self was stubborn about letting to but even he could not fight the ultimate confirmation he was facing. He should have never been in my life to start with and once he got there and established himself, he was difficult to remove. 

Gender Mandates

 When I was born, I did not have a choice of which gender I was supposed to be, my birth gender was male and there were to be no questions asked. 

In other words, I was mandated to enter a male world which I came to totally dislike and rebel against. Similar to many of you, I first had an idea something was wrong with my perceptions of my gender at a very early age when I went exploring in my mom's clothes. My first glimpses of myself in the full-length family mirror were memorable and electric. I knew right then, I needed to figure out a way to do more. 

The problem was, in my very male dominated family, I was mandated to go in only one gender direction and follow the male path. Afterall, if I made it, I was offered the promise of white male privileges. On the other hand, if I was caught cross dressing at all, I was surely on my way to see a therapist and perhaps be thrown into the dreaded conversion therapy. My answer was simple; I needed to continue in my underground cross-dressing ways and hope I did not get caught.  My major problem was my slightly younger brother who I was always stuck being with. Somehow, I did manage to do more and slightly lessen my mandate. When I did, I found I could enjoy my femininized self even more than I ever had before.

Of course, the most male mandate I faced was being drafted into the United States military during the Vietnam War. Since women were excluded from the draft, it was an exclusively male experience. I still resent having to face my time in the service when women did not, but I served my time for three years and was honorably discharged. I suppose too, my time in the Army disguised the true me to the outside world, since my friends and my dad already had served their country. It was mandated to be my turn if I wanted it or not. 

Slowly but surely, over the years, my mandate changed from male to female. I went very slowly to insure I would have less and less mishaps on my gender path. Each step I took gave me the confidence to take another. Of course, at some point, my mandates would collide. When they did, my mental health struggled, and I was fortunate (after several tries) to find a qualified therapist who helped me separate my bi-polar condition with my gender issues.

My largest feminine mandate came when I started gender affirming hormones. I knew almost immediately I had made the right decision. All the changes the hormones made to my body felt so natural. Inside and out, the changes were so dramatic, I think my body was always waiting for them. 

As mandates go, I would be remiss if I did not mention the gender privileges which go with the mandate.  Since I have spent quite a bit of time up close with male and female gender privileges, I know a little about both sides. As with most things, male privilege is more upfront and direct, while female privilege is more layered and indirect. 

One way, or another, mandates are a serious part of life and are difficult to control. Plus, they are so hard to deny.