What is Chasing You?

 

Image from Filip Mroz
on UnSplash. 

As human beings, we all have something that is chasing us. As transgender women or trans men, that something which is chasing us may be more serious.

As we all know, gender is one of the most basic wants and needs for a person. At birth, we are put into a male or female box which is often very difficult to change. In my case, I was born into a very male dominated family as their first-born son, so changing anything with my gender was totally out of the question. In addition, information on gender dysphoria was difficult to find in the pre-internet days.

All of this set me up for a chase which would dominate my life for nearly five decades. Mainly because my male self-had a huge head start on the race to claim myself. He was born into male privilege that he just had to compete in the world to claim. Along the way, he managed to do quite well in the privilege race, which made it more difficult to give up his male life when the time came to do it.

As I became older and more settled into a routine, what was chasing me became more evident. I wanted to be a transgender woman more than anything else in my life. It all set me off in a collision course with changing jobs and moving from my native Ohio as I desperately tried to outrun what was chasing me. I thought each move I made would bring me closer to living the dream life I always hoped was possible. Examples included moving from a small conservative town in Ohio to the huge metro New York City area so I could be closer to a more liberal cross-dressing area. Even though that proved true to an extent, I found I still had the same restrictions on expressing my feminine self as I had in Ohio. So, I moved back to a very rural area where I thought I could hide my cross-dressing ways. Ironically, the best move I made was the next one when I moved back near to Columbus, Ohio where I could reconnect with the small group of diverse friends I had made before at crossdresser-transgender mixers I had went to.

Through it all, all my running was becoming increasingly exhaustive on my mental health. I was taking one step forward towards my goal of living a transfeminine life, while at the same time taking a step or two back when my public persona as a woman was discovered and I was crushed mentally. I kept going back to my gender drawing board until I got it right, or to the point where I could go out in public without the fear of abuse.

When I did reach that point, the feminine person chasing me upped her game and I needed to get better when I interacted with the world. What happened was people started to recognize me, so I needed to start building a whole new person. I needed to choose a new name to fit my personality and stick with it. Which also meant I needed to attempt the most difficult task of all for me, the time I spent communicating one on one with other women. I needed to throw my innate shyness out of the window and learn the basics of eye-to-eye communication which I learned was so big with cis women. Plus, I really wanted to learn to interact with women because I could learn so much from them while at the same time not coming off like a mean bitch.

As I learned to relax and interact with my new world, the inner female which was chasing me could relax a little too. At the same time, my male self-began to finally realize he was losing the race for dominance in my world. More and more, I felt the fear of giving up my male privileges fade away as the introduction of female privileges set in. For the first time in my life, I felt free of the gender struggles which had defined me. I remember vividly the night I sat by myself and added up all the pluses and minuses to the moves I was considering making. The end result was in my life as a novice transgender woman, I had never felt so natural and free. The decision was an easy one for me as I decided to take the next step and seek a doctor’s approval for gender affirming hormones or HRT. A move I considered for once and for all, end any questions about what was chasing me.

That decision brought all the exhaustive chases to an end in my life. The only problem was it took me until the age of sixty to face my inner truths and find peace in my life.

 

Setting New Traditions

 

JJ Hart bottom row, left. 
Girls Night Out Birthday Party. 

Establishing new traditions or routines can be difficult when you decide to finally live as the gender you were always meant to be.

In my case, the biggest moment of change was when my regular invitation to the family’s Thanksgiving feast was rejected by my brother and sister-in-law who did not have enough backbone to stand up to her rightwing Baptist family. The excuse I was given was, what would the kids think. I was fortunate that my dramatic change was by my daughter and my future wife Liz. Both of them invited me into their family gatherings with open arms and I ended up having an even better time than I would have had with my brother.

Other traditions I was invited into were girls’ nights out for various special occasions such as birthday parties. I cherished the chances I had to go behind the gender curtain and see how ciswomen interact with each other when there are no men around. Sure, I was terrified to go at first but quickly calmed down and warmed up to the experience when almost all of the women there treated me as an equal. Surprisingly to me, I ran into no problems except for one woman who acted as if she was mad at the world anyway. Plus, my most important lessons were if you take men out of the picture, women are looser acting around themselves and the only real difference in the conversation is the lack of sports and job talk. The bulk of the conversation was built around family and spouses.

I took these new learning experiences with me and ran with them into my everyday life’s interactions with other women. I subtracted any talk of employment and my major interests (sports) unless I was asked about something specific. Which surprisingly I was not and my private life which I had not merged at that time, stayed mine. No one pried, and I did not offer. Which worked well for me.

As I slowly began to build on the experiences I mentioned, life became more fluid and natural to me, and I knew I was on the right path. I felt better after spending a night with the ciswomen than I ever did when I was busy posturing with other men. It just took me time to establish new traditions, and I came to expect the occasional invitation to join other women in their celebrations. I became my own woman, just from a different background than the rest of the group. As I learned so much, most of the women never knew how much they benefitted me by just allowing me into their lives. Including the lesbian experiences, I had which went such a long way towards shaping my future.

From the earliest days of going to diverse mixers in Columbus, Ohio and ending up leaving with a lesbian I talked to, all the way to attending lesbian mixers with Kim and Nikki in Dayton, Ohio years later, I again was able to learn so much about the sort of woman I wanted to be. As many of the transgender women around me were stressing about finding a man, I learned I did not need a man’s validation to be me. It really helped me to not needing to change my sexuality while I was building new traditions in my life. I had always appreciated the company of women around me and nothing changed.

If you are considering, or are building new ones, as you know it is a major deal and one that can take a while. My advice is fairly simple, pursue as many avenues as you can and be prepared for the occasional rejection you may receive. Especially from men who may perceive you only as some sort of fetish object. And of course, be safe and meet strangers in public places initially.

Sooner rather than later before you know it your new traditions will become established and second nature to you. That is when the woman who has always been a part of you can emerge and live the life she always imagined. Jumping the gender border may be something you were always destined to do but never dreamed you would have the chance to do it like I did. I needed to wait for decades as I experimented with my gender but finally the doors opened wide for me to find myself in a do or die situation. Either try a male to female transition which was always a female-to-female transition in my world or forget it and move on with my life at the advanced age of sixty. It would have been easier just to do what I always had done and live a life with one foot in each of the binary genders.

I took the hard way out and decided to pursue the next step in my transition (it was a big one) and seek a doctor’s approval to begin gender affirming hormones or HRT. It was a huge step for me and one I did not take lightly. My body took to the new hormones like why did I take so long to do it? It fit right in with the rest of my life of waiting too long to do what was right. Establishing new traditions in a life I always should have known was just the beginning.

 

 

 

 

Running...Always Running

 

Image from Filip Mroz 
on UnSplash. 

During my life, I have never thought of myself as a runner of any sort. I have never completed any marathons, or long distance runs anywhere except the Army in basic training when I had to.

In basic, all I really learned about running was to never try to look behind you and see how fast if anyone was gaining on you. Mainly because I was never the fastest person running and I was trying to compete against the clock. Not another person. Lessons which came back and helped me later in life when I set out to battle my gender dysphoria. I would have been so much better off if I had never looked back to see who was chasing me.

For the longest time, I took up too much of my mental universe either worrying about what someone else thought about me or worse yet, feeling extreme jealousy over the way another woman looked. I discovered that I was just wasting my time when I spent too much time or effort on both. Which I was doing. There was no way possible that everyone was going to accept me because no matter what I was doing, there seemed to be to be someone else on my wavelength to tell me something was wrong with what I was doing. And as far as being jealous of the way another ciswoman looked, I discovered later in life that there had not been a woman born yet who did not find some sort of flaw in the way she looked. My job was to do the best I could and work with what I had to present my best transfeminine to the world.

Instead of turning around and wasting time and energy watching who was gaining on me, to succeed I needed to throw all my limited resources towards filling out my gender workbook as fast as possible. If someone did like me because I was a transgender woman, that was their problem not mine.

The main problem I needed to solve about me running from my problems was all the moving and job changes I was putting myself and my family through. Even though all the job interviews and moving around was exhausting, I used the process to run from my inner most feelings…that I wanted to quit being a male and live a feminine life. Behind every job move that I made, there was the ulterior motive of wanting to make my life back then as a cross dresser potentially easier. Ultimately, that is the reason I made moves from places like my conservative hometown in Ohio all the way to New York City where I thought I could find a much more liberal existence.

Finally, I went nearly full circle and landed back in my old hometown, but the difference was this time I would be much closer to Columbus, Ohio where I had contacts in the cross dressing-transgender community. By doing so, I even managed to land a much better job which I had worked for years to get. For once, it seemed I was putting my running life behind me, but I really wasn’t. Not until I finally was able to face myself about my true lifelong issues such as (you guessed it) why I wanted to be a transgender woman. To do so, I still had the usual obstacles in the way such as what was I ever going to do about the twenty year plus marriage I was in and the great job I had worked so hard to get, Stopping all the running I was doing was never going to be easy but I kept painting myself into corners I could not easily escape from when on the occasions I was successful in my feminine presentation led me on to wanting more.

More meant taking an increased number of chances with a male life I should have been satisfied with. All my plans were coming together except for the most important one. Except for the most important one I had been running from my entire life. What was I going to do about my increasingly relevant feminine life. The stress I was under became tremendous. Afterall, I was trying my best to juggle two binary genders at the same time. Lucky or not, I was still able to keep most of my feminine life a secret from most of my acquaintances and I continued on as long as I could before the running had to come to a complete halt.

During my life, I was able to only make and keep a very few male friends and as destiny would have it, they all passed away (along with my wife) in a short span of time. At that point, there was no reason to keep running, so I was able to stop and take the easy way out for a change. I chose going all out into a transfeminine lifestyle and never look back with the help of gender affirming hormones or HRT.

When I stopped all my running and faced the truth, I had been avoiding all along, the feeling I had was euphoric and one I had never experienced before. My next step was not to hold it against myself that I did not stop running much earlier in my life and take the lessons I learned about not looking back in the Army. I never knew what happiness was until I did it.

 

Tiny Ripples of Gender Hope

Image from Rosie Kerr on UnSplash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Transgender S.O.S.

Image from Micheal Held
on UnSplash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

  

Stranger Things have Happened

 

Image from Alexander
Krivisly on
UnSplash.

My gender journey has proven to me that stranger things have happened, just not to me.

What I mean is, on a scale of one to ten at succeeding in ever living a life as a transgender woman, I would have ranked myself some where around an eight. Meaning I was giving myself very little chance of ever making it to my dream life. Along the way now, I wish I had kept more track of every time I succeeded at and then passed a goal I had set for my feminine self.

In many ways, the early days of shopping in mall women’s clothing stores was easy and gave me a false sense of hope. I was naïve and did not realize for the longest time, I just represented as a dollar sign in front of the store clerks, I was facing. Most certainly, I was not the first man in a dress and makeup they had ever seen in their store and would not be the last. Regardless, the false sense of confidence I was giving myself raised my faint hope of ever succeeding at my dream.

As I went not so blissfully on my high-heeled way, I did pick up bits and pieces of information I would need to survive. For once, I thought far enough ahead to set up time away from my wife so I could slip away and shop with the rest of the women in the malls on Black Friday after Thanksgiving. Which had been on my trans bucket list for years. By this time, I had experienced enough time in public as a woman, I knew things such as wearing comfortable footwear was a must for the long trips from the parking lot to the stores, all the way to being stylish but not overdone in my fashion choices for the day so I could blend in well with the other ciswomen I met. Stranger things happened and I had a great time which I will write about in a later blog post.

All of my continued success combined to make me think maybe, just maybe I could achieve my dream life, and I could increase my scale to a four out of ten. What helped me were the short trips I made to Columbus, Ohio to the small diverse parties I went to where I could meet and interact with anyone such as transsexuals on their way to surgery to cross dresser admirers who were there just to watch. I even met a stray lesbian there one night who I left with briefly to go to a big gay club together. Through it all, I was just trying to see where I fit in at all. I figured if I had any success at all at understanding where I was, I hoped I could see the light at the end of my gender tunnel was not the train and just maybe I could live my dream.

As much as I liked the interaction in Columbus, I knew I had to leave the relative safety of the group and try to carve out my own life as a transgender woman in the world. Sure, I was terrified to do it but I knew I had to overcome my fears if I was ever going to be able to move up my scale from a five to a seven. When I made it to a lucky seven, the pressure to live the way I wanted to really be increased. The reason for the increase came because of the new interactive experiences I was now having with other ciswomen around me. What I did was watch the women around me and try to learn how they were living their life and learn my own way.

From then on, when I could see the dream life I had hoped for was in sight, I could really concentrate on my future as a transfeminine person. At that point, I needed to begin my preparations for what do about telling the family close to me about my male to female gender transition, all the way to what I was going to do about surviving financially. I was to the point where I did not have to make it as a transgender woman, I just needed to let it happen. I had to stay in the new moment I was in and live it for all it was worth. It turned out my scale was worth it, all the way.

Stranger things happened to me. I may not have looked like a ten, but I felt like one.

What Was I Walking Into

 

Image from the 
Paris Photographer
on UnSplash. 

Many times, in my life, I have wondered what I was walking into. Sometimes, it did not have anything to do with being transgender but many times it did. And sometimes I was wearing high heels which I was not used to which increased the risk of what I was doing.

The main time it did not was when I went into the Army during the Vietnam War. I had no idea what basic training would have in store for me except I would need to get in better physical condition. I did make a half-hearted effort at trying but failed miserably and gave up. On another negative side, I knew I would have to give up all my cherished cross-dressing activities for the next three years of my life.

It turned out, in the scheme of life, three years did not turn out to be that long as traveling the world to three continents kept me plenty busy and I grew used to the idea of not knowing what I was walking into. So much so that I adopted “Call me the Breeze” by “Lynard Skynyrd “as my official song when I was on the radio. Because I was always rolling down the road. Through it all, I learned that my affinity for women never changed. I wanted deeply to live in their world and all the running I was doing would never change that. It was a lesson in life I wished I would have listened to later.

When I served my three years in the military, my restless spirit continued to dominate me and caused me to try to outrun my gender issues. I constantly was trying different jobs in different places unsuccessfully trying to run away from being transgender. Sometimes I had secret agendas, sometimes I did not. Like the time we moved from Ohio to New York City. Somehow, I thought being closer to a more liberal populace would help me to be able to come out of my gender shell. It did not work out that way because of several different reasons which would take another blog post to explain.

Another idea I had which actually worked out better for me was the time we moved from a very rural area of Southern Ohio along the Ohio River to Columbus, Ohio which was a couple of hours away. This time, I knew for sure that I could get back in contact with the friends I had made in years previous at the gender diverse parties and mixers I was going to. I was successful and reestablished myself with the group and tried to make up for lost time and at the same time, settle down.

When I did settle down, I was able to start exploring the feminine world as a transgender woman which meant almost nightly, I was walking into new situations I had never seen before. From gay and lesbian venues to big sports bars, the world was new and sometimes scary. Again, “Call me the Breeze” should have been my theme song due to all the new situations I was facing. Anything I enjoyed doing as a man, I tried to do as a woman to see if I still enjoyed it. Spoiler alert…I did and kept on trying more and more new situations to see if I could handle what I was walking into.

On the flip side, I am hesitant to recommend this type of transgender lifestyle to anyone. Too many times, I boosted my confidence through alcohol abuse and was fortunate to have never caused any major problems all the time I drove when I shouldn’t have. These days I barely drink at all and never drive when I do. The other problem comes from the increasingly nasty anti-transgender reaction which will undoubtedly be stirred up again in the upcoming elections by the orange Russian asset’s minions across the country. We have a close senate race coming up here in Ohio and I am sure I will see the transgender lies about the Democratic candidate before too long. He has run before, and the television ads were nasty.

Regardless, I am fortunate that these days, I present mainly as old and don’t have many problems walking into new situations. I will have several coming up in the next six months or so to keep me on my transfeminine game. I have an eye appointment at the VA as well as a hematology visit coming up soon as well as another bus tour vacation south in January. Not to mention my mammogram which will be in February this coming year.

It has become part of life for me to wonder what I am walking to at my stage of life. Especially hematology where they are going to do a total blood work check up on how my body is working but I will jump off of that bridge when I come to it. Which is what I have done through most of my life. This time I had to do it without all the male privilege I had built up which as scary.

 

 

Halloween and Me

Image from Nice M
Nsshti on UnSplash.

Even though it has been years since I have been to a Halloween party at all, it still fills a special place in my heart.

The main reason it will is because it was the first time in my life that I was able to really explore if I could possibly make it to my dream of ever living like a woman on my own terms. In the recent past, I have written about the very first parties I went to dressed as a slutty, trashy woman, attempting in my own backwards way to be sexy. Also, when I started to go to Halloween dressed as me, I was doing it around people who knew me as a man, so I needed to put up with the idea in their mind that I was some sort of a jokester. When of course I was dead serious. One memorable evening took me to the freshly restored Ohio Theatre in downtown Columbus, Ohio for a midnight Halloween showing of the original “Dracula” movie, complete with background music from the original theatre organ. I went with my first wife who already knew I was a cross dresser and two other friends. I ended up having a fabulous time in my heels, hose and minidress surrounded by many other attendees in costume. The only problem I had was walking as long as I did in my heels. I was still too new to the cross-dressing style game to think ahead about my footwear if I needed to walk very far.

As the years and Halloween’s moved by, my whole focus began to shift about my potential “costume” I was planning on wearing. I began to move away from the trashy costumes I wore in the past, and into “costume” ideas another ciswoman would wear. At the same time, I stopped going to parties with my friends and began going to big clubs where I could see if I could blend in. It all was working out well until one night I was stopped by a guy wearing a full mask telling me he knew who I was. I was in shock and asked him how he knew, and he told me I looked like my mom. It turned out he grew up with me down the road and knew both of my parents. I was relieved as I was proud of my “French Girl Costume.” Which meant I was dressed all in black. Including a new pair of black tights, flats, blond hair and a black beret I purchased for a dollar at a thrift store. Other than being rudely recognized, I had another great time, and the evening ended too soon.

A few of my final Halloween parties I went to proved to me that I could possibly make it in the world as a transfeminine person. One was by pure accident and one I had planned ahead for. The pure accidental party was the one I recently wrote about which happened when I lived in the New York City metro area. Out of nowhere, I was invited by one of my female managers to a Halloween party her and her friends were going to at a nearby tavern, to her house. I don’t know why, but I decided to back slide in my “costume” idea and go to the party dressed a little on the slutty side. Mini skirt, heels, blond wig and all. It turned out all of her friends who were going were approximately as tall as I was and were all dressed to thrill also. What a surprise I had when I found I could blend in with all of them. The only problem I had was my second wife not approving of my “costume” even though she did not want to go. Life around the house was a bit frosty for a while.

The last major Halloween party I went to was a planned affair. I was invited to a party at a vintage restored Victorian mansion, along with a news girl who I worked with at the local radio station.  I was married to my first wife then and she did not care who I went with, so I planned to go as a professional woman just getting off of work. Just to see if I could. I did with a couple a write about often who thought I was a woman and were so entranced with me, they invited me to another party they were going to. I did not go but stayed and had a great time at a fabulous party.

Sadly, all my fun went away when I fully transitioned into being a transgender woman. Instead of putting on some sort of “costume” and going out into the world, I was just being me, and an exciting part of my life was behind me. Forever to be remembered fondly in my mind.

 

 

 

  

Gender Blockers

 

JJ Hart, picture taken after mixer.

Gender blockers often came fast and furious at me as I lived my life.

First, I needed to figure out how to camouflage my big boned testosterone poisoned body so I could present well enough in the world to get by, once I arrived there. Which in itself was a big enough hurdle to face. Then I summoned the courage to go out of my closet and into the world, I learned the hard way how much further my trip would take me and how many people would try to block me.

At the beginning, it was never easy, especially around teen girls who always seemed to figure me out and have quite the giggle at my expense. Often, it took weeks for me to recover, go back to my cross-dressing drawing board and try the world out again. Fortunately, these were the days when I was attending the cross dresser-transgender mixers and parties in nearby Columbus, Ohio. At these events, often I was able to compare myself to others around me with the same gender issues and see how I was doing with my presentation.  Also, I left the diverse parties I was going to by discovering a deeper understanding of where I possibly was going in my life. I was learning I was so much more than just a man with a hobby of looking like a woman. I kept going back to the fact that increasingly I wanted to be a woman. It was my dream.

Often, my dream was shattered by a number of outsiders. While my wife was very supportive of me as a cross dresser, she completely drew the line at any suggestion I was transgender and had nothing to do with me starting HRT. Then she would team up against me with my male self who was beginning to feel threatened with losing his world. Mainly because I was beginning to have an idea of how my gender dream could become a reality. If my male self was becoming successful in conquering all the blocks and hurdles, he ran into, why could not my feminine side do it too.

At times, my male to female transition process was allow and tedious, and at other times fast and exciting. Frustration would set in when I would try to spend three days a week concentrating on my transfeminine side of life, only to have to revert back to my old male side the remainder of the week. Including my job which was male dominated. The whole back and forth gender life destroyed my fragile mental health and made my life hell, except when I was in my transgender phase. I had too many plates in the air which I was trying to keep spinning. Sort of like trying to keep several girlfriends happy at once.

I could finally take it no longer and needed to try to start removing my roadblocks one at a time. I began with the social roadblock. Could I actually begin to carve out a brand-new life as a transgender woman where no one knew of my past. To my surprise, I found I could. Probably because when I got past the point of thinking I was trying to fool anyone into thinking I was a cisgender woman, I just became me, and I was good enough not to scare anyone away.  One roadblock cleared. The next thing I needed to figure out was how I was going to support myself. Because transitioning on the job was out of the question, I needed to find a different answer. I took so long to do it, the problem solved itself when I got close to a point where I could take an early Social Security retirement and then sell the many collectibles my late wife and I had collected to survive.

With all the gender blockers to my dream out of the way, I needed to push my own feminine self-improvement program ahead. It meant seeking out an understanding doctor to prescribe me gender affirming hormones. When I did, I was able to see and sense a noticeable difference in my external and internal self. My skin softened and my hair grew so I could use less makeup and leave my wigs behind for good. All of which helped me to present better in public. Internally, I could not believe all the changes HRT was helping me with. I was more emotional as my world softened. For the first time in my life, I could cry tears of sadness and even joy.

From then on, I had paid all my dues and was ready to settle into the dream life I never thought I could obtain.

Finally, as a serious side note, it is 9-11, never forget.

Purging

 

JJ Hart from back in Ed's and Michelle's
time.

For many transgender or cross dresser women, rarely have we lived a life when we never wanted to go back to our male selves. A common term for the practice is called “purging.”

Like many of you, I have experienced my share of trying to purge away my gender issues. About the time I thought I was entering a high-profile stage of my feminine life, I began to feel guilty and wanted to throw it all away. Then, I learned there were different stages of purging. For example, when I was purging, I never could seem to throw out or give away all my hard earned, cherished feminine wardrobe and makeup away. Deep down I always left the door open to my closet for a return to cross dressing as I called it back in those days.

Then there was Ed, an acquaintance I had who really defined purging to me. Ed was a frustrated cross dresser who at the least was having problems with his family and at the same time dealing with several very serious health problems. Before he reached a crisis point with his health problems, he decided to give away all his cross-dressing items. With Ed, that meant a lot. He needed to empty out an entire storage unit he rented to hide his wigs, wardrobe and makeup from his family. I turned out to be on the receiving end of his gifts. He gave me a nice set of silicone breast forms he purchased as well as a plastic tackle box full of expensive makeup.

What ever happened to him I will never know, the last I heard from him was decades ago when he was increasingly becoming more and more negative concerning a transgender friend of ours. Michelle was very beautiful and was headed towards gender realignment surgery, and I think Ed had developed deeper feelings for her than just friendship. He never confided in me if that was the case which leaves me to yet another unclosed mystery in my life. Along with what my deceased wife would have thought of me if she ever knew me as a more complete transgender woman.

Even as I continued to progress along my transgender path, I found myself to be a contradiction of terms. I did not know for the longest time how I fit in on the gender spectrum. I had an idea I was more than a casual cross dresser such as Ed was but was I as serious about becoming a fulltime woman as Michelle was. Being in the middle as always tortured my frail mental health as I did not know which way I wanted my life to go.

Initially, I decided I could take the pressure no longer and purged my feminine fashion and makeup…almost. I compromised and did not throw out my favorite wig, sweater and Ed’s silicone breast forms. So, I had left the door wide open to return to a life I had always thought deep down, I could never leave behind. Slowly but surely, I rebuilt my wardrobe, added another wig and purchased new makeup to fill Ed’s tackle box I still owned.

That was the last time I tried to purge my physical belongings, helping to calm my transfeminine longings down. Following the many times in life I attempted to purge my life away from my deep-seated gender desires, I finally learned that I could not easily throw my real life in the trash. I also lost track of Ed and Michelle long ago and the last I heard from Michelle was she had gone ahead with her gender surgeries and was living with a lesbian in nearby Columbus, Ohio.

I just wish I had the foresight to understand how close purging was to my overall wellbeing than the obvious. All along, I thought I was trying to rid my feminine self of her external possessions when in reality, I was proving the futility of trying to deny the person I was always destined to be.

In a full circle moment, I was able to grow my own breasts thanks to gender affirming hormones or HRT and donate my silicone breast forms Ed gave me to a swap out at a transgender-cross dresser support group meeting I attended. As I mentioned, he had very serious health issues, and I doubt if he is still alive today. In a moment of clarity, I remembered his full name and searched for it on Facebook to no avail.

One way or another, I view purging yet another unique sideline of following a gender path. As far as I was concerned, I not so slyly resisted completely throwing away all of my wardrobe, shoes, wigs and makeup I acquired. I never knew when I would go back, I just knew I could.

Creating a New Life

 

JJ Hart, Club Diversity, Columbus, Ohio

As transgender women, we have a unique method of creating a new life.

Obviously, we cannot host a birth ourselves, so we do the next best thing, allowing our inner feminine selves to flourish in the world. For some of us, the process takes a long time. I was referring to myself as a late in life transitioner. Occasionally, I still receive the comment I was not transgender enough to transition. Or why did I wait so long. Comments such as those used to bother me until I grew confident enough in myself to ignore them. We all have our own path to creating a new life. How we get there, and our methods are our own business.

What is lost on most civilians is how difficult it is as we create a new life. Which is even more difficult because we are only bringing out what was always there. It took me decades to discover I had all my gender issues backwards. Life became easier for me when I learned I was a woman all along, cross dressing as a man. As with many or all of you, I set out to convince others of my true self.

At first, I needed to prove to strangers I was so much more than a man putting on a dress parttime or a drag queen in my days of hanging out in gay venues. It was not until I began to leave my comfortable closet and take on the straight world, did I begin to improve my confidence and overall presentation. As I went out, I took my bumps and bruises and invested heavily in my future as a transgender woman. I finally learned it was time to cash in my gender chips and go for it all. Each chip was a unique experience I learned from as I learned how to create my new life.

When I had started to test out the ciswomen gatekeepers and was accepted, I knew I had reached the now or never stage of my life. It was time to face my true inner self and live my truth. The secret of making my trip personal was a scary step. I needed to risk strangers taking advantage of me, or my emotions which had been badly damaged after the death of my second wife. I thought I had effectively shielded myself off to the world as a novice transgender woman, but the opposite happened.

As women have a way of doing, they read the true damaged me and a select few reached out. The main one was my wife Liz who I have been with well over a decade now. Just when I was hopelessly online seeking a date with another woman, she responded to me, and we started to communicate back and forth. Liz, as well as my daughter, were instrumental in me creating a new life. They were powerful feminine role models who I could (and can) fall back on to this day.

In many ways, I could resent being born with gender issues as a problem I did not need, but what good would that do. I would never have had the chance to look deep inside me and create a new life which started with hidden glances in the mirror and morphed into a full-time life as a transfeminine person. I would never have thought it possible.

 

 

Cutting a Life in Half

  

JJ Hart at Witches' Ball

Cutting life in half is difficult.

Perhaps I am biased, but I feel transgender women and transgender men feel the cut deeper than the rest of the population. Some of you may even remember the days when a transsexual person was expected to go through gender realignment surgery, then move to a completely different town and start all over with their life.

At my age, I remember all of that, and it was one of the reasons I balked at going through a major gender transition in my life. However, I was fortunate. I had two transsexual role models who were determined to do the gender change in their own way. One was a Columbus, Ohio fireperson who restored her own house in German Village, an upscale historical area of Columbus. She was preparing to retire from the fire department and there was no way she would move after surgery. It has been many years since I have heard from her and the last, I had heard she and a lesbian had moved in together.

The other transsexual I briefly knew was a beautiful woman who was going to complete her gender surgeries also. As I remember, she was an accomplished electrical engineer who would have no problem finding a job wherever she decided to go. We were never close, so I lost contact with her too.

Back in those days, I was very naïve and considered a very feminine appearance was all it took to cut your life in half and start all over. I had not yet even begun to pay my dues to be able to slip behind the gender curtain. One of my main considerations back then was how far did I want to go to cut my life in half and start all over. I certainly did not have the money saved up for gender surgeries and loved my wife and new family. A lot to consider giving up. The only thing I did know was, I thought about it continually.

Then I began to explore seriously what it would take to cut my life where it was the beginning again and I could start all over as a transgender woman. Another problem I had was, the more successful baggage I accumulated as a man, the harder it would be to stop the train and go back. I was stubborn and tried to take the middle road. I worked on my makeup presentation and fashion and shopped till I dropped for just the right piece to add to my closet. At no point did I ever consider myself attractive, but I did feel I had done enough in my appearance to live that way for the rest of my life if I needed to.

As I reached the point of no return, it was time to cut my life and start all over again, but I did not. Sure, I had given away what was left of my male clothes to charity, but I did not give away my lifelong love of sports and women too. I found the big sports bars I used to frequent as a man were also welcoming to me as a transgender woman. And most amazingly, I learned my sexuality did not have to change either. I had more cisgender women and lesbians approach me as a new transfeminine woman as I ever did as a man. Dispelling another myth from the old days that when your gender changed by surgery, your sexuality had to change too.

What I did get rid of was any pictures or awards from my past. When other women talked about their families, I could talk about mine also, but just to a point. I found out the hard way, there would be no hint given at any time that I was a veteran and drafted during the Vietnam era. The entire process turned out to be a sure-fire way to out myself and draw reference to my male life if I was not careful.

Cutting and resurrecting a long life is never easy. Especially when people are curious about you. I went through tons of trial-and-error conversations before I finally began to get it right. Now I save details of my life for people like the prying woman a couple of weeks ago at the graduation party I went to. She went to the extent of calling me dad because of my daughter so I went to the extent of telling her I was drafted in the military during Vietnam. Plus, to confuse her even more, I told her my first wife, and third wife were sitting at the table also. After that, she gave up and left. It’s rare I have ever had a chance to pick and win such a battle.

In no way though, do I ever want to make any of this sound fun, because it is not. What stays and what goes away is always such a difficult set of decisions to make. I hope you can make yours easily.

 

 

 

The Clash of Gender Ego's

 

Image from Sherest Gupta
on UnSplash. 

Through most of my long life, I needed to deal with the clash of egos, doing battle for my existence.

On one side, I had my well-worn and battle tested male ego who was doing his best to make it in a world where he did not want to be. On the other, I had my deeply hidden feminine side who only made her appearance in front of the mirror and then went back into hiding. In other words, my male ego attempted to dominate while at the same time, my female ego was hiding, just exactly where she did not want to be.

For the longest time, to make matters worse, I did not think women had much of an ego at all. Except maybe with their appearance. As I made my way through life, I discovered how wrong I was. On several levels, As I always warn about, my male ego dictated how I dressed early in my life when I was going out in public. I fell in love with several compliments I received about my legs when I went to Halloween parties and made sure I showed them off to the extreme when I was going out for the first time. The idea was all well and good except I was doing nothing to overcome my broad shoulders and torso. I had no fashion balance, and it showed with the number of times I was made fun of in public. My male ego had failed me. I was dressing to his tastes and was failing.

It took years to do, but my female ego finally took control and slowly but surely, I began to blend in with the other women around me. For a moment, I even thought my clash of egos was over, but I was completely wrong. My male ego was very stubborn and still thought he had some sort of control over my life. He refused to believe he had lost all his male privileges and nearly got us in trouble several times before he learned the hard way what problems could exist.

One of the biggest issues was the idea of my sexuality and how it would or would not change with my new transgender life. Of course, Mr. Macho recoiled at any thought of intimacy with a man, but Ms. Self wasn’t so sure. Like many women, she had a spectrum of ideas about sex which were not so rigid and paranoid. In fact, I made a concerted effort to date a few men to see what (if any) excitement would happen. It just so happened women turned out to be much more interested in me as a trans woman, my choice was easy to make. For once, my male ego won. For the wrong reason.

One of the earliest instances I can remember of a lesbian woman approaching me happened one night at a mixer/party I went to at a friend’s house in Columbus, Ohio. At the mixer, I ended up approaching another woman and having a brief conversation before we decided to leave for a while and go to a big lesbian club to mingle even farther. We ended up having a good time that night, but since I still had a wife to go home to, I could not stay long enough but visiting with another ciswoman who happened to be a lesbian was a wonderful experience and would set the path for my future. Although, I did not know it at the time, primarily because my male and female egos were still clashing.

By now, you may be asking the question, who was winning the struggle? My woman was, even though my male self would win every now and then, it was as if he would take one step forward and two steps back. On the occasions when my second wife would catch me coming back from a night on the town, he would jump forward into purge mode. Vowing to never wear any female clothes ever again. All the time knowing there was no way possible he could ever keep his promise. I had crossed too many lines in my gender sand to go back, and the fact was becoming increasingly evident to him and my wife, there was nothing they could do. They were waiting for me to face my own reality.

Solving my final gender issue was easier said than done. My male self was hanging on for dear life until the very end, and he nearly pulled all of us down in the process until therapy and suicide came into play. Finally, I needed to pick a winner in my gender ego clash, and I was wise and picked the only way I could go. I put my old male self completely aside and begin to live a transfeminine life I had only dreamed of. I wondered why I did not pick the winning side years ago and live my truth.

 

 

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. 

 

A Private Journey

Virginia Prince

Being a young person with gender issues forced me into my own deep shell.

 Plus, the times I grew up in did not help. I battled having no real gender information in the times before the internet and social media. In fact, the first real indication I had there were any others who shared a similar desire to change their gender was when I discovered "Transvestia" Magazine and "Virginia Prince". Initially, I was so fascinated, I just needed to learn more.

My private journey became less private when I began to attend transvestite mixers, as they were called back then. From my well-worn pages of "Transvestia" I learned several of the mixers were within driving distance of me in my native Ohio. Immediately, I began to make plans to do the impossible dream and attend. I could not imagine what it would be like to meet in person, another cross dresser as I perceived myself to be. It all struck an emotional chord with me, and I could not wait for my first mixer. I felt, at the least, the event could help to get out of my shell and not be so private. 

Of course, I found out I was expecting way to much from my first meeting with others with gender issues. To start with, I was not prepared for the layers of participants at the mixer. Everyone from beautiful transsexuals to "cowboy" cross dressers with their hats and cigars. Somewhere, in between was me. Wondering where I should be in the group. All Virginia Prince and "Transvestia" told me was, I needed to be heterosexual in order to fit in. Prince never said anything about all the different individuals I would encounter. Long story short, I found I did not really fit in with any of the other attendees. Again, I was stuck in my own private journey.

Throughout my disappointment in not meeting more like-minded individuals to share my gender hopes and dreams with, I at least found a very few others I could socialize with. Better yet, they lived even closer to me in near-by Columbus, Ohio. One of the transsexual women had a very nice, restored home in a historic area of the city and regularly hosted her own mini mixers. Since I usually worked weekend nights, I could not make it to all of them, but the ones I could, I enjoyed immensely. 

On my visits, I even discovered others who were exploring their new gender lives as more than cross dressers since the new transgender terminology was still being explored. At the time, I knew I was not completely into, going through all the gender changing operations, but then again, if I could do it, I would love to pursue a trip into transgender womanhood.

Maybe I kept my journey private because I was just that type of person, or I just had never met many people I trusted with my deepest secrets. To this day, I think I can count on one hand, the people who know all about me. Even including my long-time therapist. My wife Liz used to harass me by asking me what we talked about, and I had a difficult time coming up with an answer. Even so, I am a believer in therapy, as it did help me to come up with coping mechanisms for my complicated gender life. 

As I look back, I have come a long way from the pages of "Transvestia" but not far enough to totally say I have ever left my private journey which was so completely embedded in me when I was younger.

Trans Girl Shopping

 

Image from Sam Headland on UnSplash.

Many Christmases ago, in the early two thousand's I began to do most of my special gift shopping for my second wife as a transgender woman. Needless to say, I learned a lot. 

My wife was a huge gardener, so greenhouses and specialty garden stores were my first places to go to if I was to ever find the special gift, I was looking for. To find the best selections, I normally made the hour trip to Columbus, Ohio which had bigger greenhouses and even a specialty garden store in one of their upscale malls. Since at that time, I had a reasonable amount of spendable income, almost nothing was out of reach for me as a gift for her. 

Normally, I made the trip during the day and wore professional women's business attire. My hope was I could present well as a woman just on her lunch break shopping for last minute gifts. Even though, I was beginning to feel more and more at home as a woman in the world. Still, I felt I needed to work hard to be able to present the best I could as a transgender woman to avoid detection. Seeing as how I was knocking out two birds with one stone, I needed to do it well. 

I should not have worried because one way or another I was treated warmly by more than a few of the clerks I faced and at the worse with indifference by others. I found the older clerks were more apt to help me and the younger ones left me on my own to shop. Even being left alone was alright with me because I was so intensely trying to find just the right gift for my wife who did not know it was my feminine self-doing almost all her shopping. Along the way, I found all sorts of unique gifts from new garden tools all the way to vintage seed boxes in antique malls. Which is a different story for another blog post which I will write before Christmas. 

Perhaps you are wondering what I wore for these new yet scary shopping adventures I was on. Depending upon which mall I was going to, I attempted to scale up or back on my outfit so I would not appear out of place. At that time, Columbus featured two very upscale malls, and I could not miss out blending in by dressing in my finest silky black pant suit, blond wig, and heels along with my very best application of makeup. All my efforts worked well as nearly everyone ignored me, except a few men. 

Since I was being successful in my transgender womanhood, and I was able to be out in the public's eye for an extended period of time, I decided to push my boundaries and stop to eat and use the lady's room. Both were a challenge for me since I had rarely done it before. I gathered my courage and stepped into one of the sit-down restaurants in the mall and just took a seat at the bar to eat. Sure, I was scared of having any one-on-one communication with the public but on the other hand, I was so successful so far in the day, why not push my luck. 

It turned out all my fears were unfounded as I was treated well in the venue I chose and the only problem I had in the restroom was navigating my way around using the toilet in my pantsuit. I did not think far enough ahead when I chose my outfit for the day and put fashion ahead of rest room utility. Fortunately, I was able to complete my struggles successfully, take care of business and leave the lady's room before anyone else came in. 

I finished the day of trans girl shopping as a very successful experience with the added positives of finding great gifts for my wife. I could not wait to do it again.