If You Don't Try...You Will Never Get There

 

Image from Luis Villasmil
on UnSplash

During our lives as transgender women and transgender men, we come to many obstacles that we have no idea of how we are ever going to get around.

After many early failures in my unwanted life as a boy, it was increasingly evident to me that if I did not attempt to try harder being a girl, I would never have a chance of making it to my dream. In many ways I was stuck between a gender rock and a hard place. On one hand, I was running to hide behind any failures I might have with my dresses and makeup, and on the other, I was making myself afraid to try anything new at all.

It took me years to learn that if you don’t venture into the world outside of your little closet, nothing will be gained. I discovered after I went through male puberty, I had very little to start with as far as having any natural feminine characteristics to work with. Even still, until I got out of the mirror and into the public’s eye, I had no idea of how bumpy my gender path would be.

In the early days, my male ego took it badly and my female ego was hurt deeply when I was laughed at in public. Until I began to take matters into my own hands. In order to improve my feminine presentation, I went on a crash diet which enabled me to fit into and purchase more stylish fashion. I learned to be in the right place at the right time if I really wanted to try to blend in with the ciswomen who ran the world, I wanted to be in. It took time to try more extreme transgender bucket list items I had put together to learn how it would be to live in a woman’s world if I had to try hard enough.

It was about that time that I landed a job with a very successful casual dining restaurant chain who taught me a lot about not being a victim and if I did not try to succeed I wouldn’t. In essence the chain took what I had learned about myself in the military and improved it. Which was just what I needed to take the gender box I was stuck in and find my way out. What I discovered was that most of the world did not care anything about me once I began to learn the basics of not drawing undue attention to myself. Setting me up to try more and more gender trials on my own. Because I had no one else to help me. The mistakes I was making and learning from came from the fact that my gender workbook was blank and the women I could share my secret with left me on my own to learn my own lessons and be a better transgender woman. Once I figured out what that was and how I fit in with the terminology.

It turned out the only ciswoman with any access to me was my second wife who, for the most part, left me alone with my struggles. Only stepping in when I made mistakes causing huge fights. The problem became I had very little public output for my desire to work the world as a trans woman. I became very frustrated and depressed when I had no way to get out and live because deep down, I knew I was on the right path, and I just had to keep on trying. My only regret now is that I would have taken the steps sooner to be myself and not dragged my wife and I through all the torment I was putting us through.

It was not until she passed away, did I find my path again and began to try to actively carve out a life as a trans woman. In order to do it, I needed to have the confidence of my gender convictions that I had never had in the past. For once, I had few other distractions to slow me down and it seemed everyday I was learning and making progress towards a gender dream which had seemed so unlikely in my past. And, for once, I was not doing it on my own as I slowly build a small circle of ciswomen friends to do it. They were able to teach me more about womanhood than they ever knew as they allowed me behind the gender curtain into their world as lesbian women. Somehow, my male baggage which helped me was kept such as my basic mistrust of men since I had been forced into their circles in my life and the fact I could fit in with them image-wise because I was largely a tomboy in my tight jeans and boots.

Through it all, there were a couple of other things I needed to try to improve my world as a transfeminine person. The first was attempting to see if I was healthy enough to be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT. I was and my life improved dramatically as I took on more and more feminine characteristics. The process was so easy, it was as if my body was saying what took me so long for such an important move. The other was the move initiated by my therapist’s permission at the Veterans Administration to have most of my legal gender markers changed. It was the best Christmas gift I ever received when I saw a judge and received my formal name change approval on Christmas Eve which got the ball rolling towards securing a new driver’s license, Social Security Card and getting my VA paperwork changed over. To the gender I always should have been.

I would never have made it through all the dark gender moments in my life. Especially with the added problems of depression and anxiety I had if I had not made it through and kept on trying to reach my dream of being allowed to live fulltime as a transgender woman. It was certainly touch and go until destiny stepped in and helped me along by pushing me back out into the world until I found other women to socialize with. I even played the online dating game and won after sorting through an enormous amount of trash, my wife Liz found me fourteen years ago and have been together ever since. If I had played my old victim cards, there would have been no way I could have ever made it out into the world.

I learned firsthand, if you never try, you will never make it to your dream.

 

 

Burning my Gender Bridges

 

Image from Issiac Viglione
on UnSplash. 

The first time I tried a dress on and put on mom’s makeup, I burned a couple of my gender bridges. Because deep down inside I knew I could never go back.

After a few missteps, I became quite used to it. Even though what I was doing by cross-dressing and building new bridges was quite risky to the only life as a boy I had known, I kept on burning the old bridges and building new ones. Fortunately, the new bridges I was building were the product of better construction than I had ever known before, I still had such a long way to go.

Early on, the problems I faced were simply formed by the lack of experiences I had being a feminine person at all. My gender workbook had never been filled out because I had never been allowed to hang out with the girls and have the chance to understand their lives. There were no girl’s sleepovers for me to go to get peer input into how I was dressing or ideas on how I should apply my makeup. It seemed as if I was stuck forever in my male world and I could not get out.

Another problem I had was I built too many invisible bridges that I did not need to. I was and am a worrier and I routinely build structures just to jump off of them it seemed. That has continued to be a lifetime problem of mine as we can take yesterday’s routine trip to the drugstore as an example. The store is very close to my house but yet I needed to worry about getting there and back in one piece, as well as what I was going to wear and not forget all the items I needed. Of course, I just dressed casually for the trip and it came off without a problem as I got everything, I needed including birthday cards for my daughter’s upcoming dinner my wife Liz and I are hosting her for before she heads off to Maine to climb a mountain to celebrate her 50th birthday. Already, I am stressed about what I am going to wear to the restaurant.

As I matured into a more complete transgender woman, of course I discovered more things to build bridges on or around my life. For the longest time, I refused to face the truth in my life that I was always meant to live in my femininity and leave my male life behind. It was then I started to run, move often and change jobs so I could better support my two women. My second wife and myself. All my building was doing was destroying my already fragile mental self as I desperately looked for answers which were there all along. Anyway I tried to cut it, I should never have been forced into a male box when I was born and had no power to do anything about it.  

It wasn’t until I got out of my gender closet and became familiar with the world as a trans woman, did I really have to begin to burn my old male bridges to the ground. Specifically, when I got out of the gay venues, I sought out some sort of safety and solace in and started testing myself in the real world did I discover how many bridges I had destroyed and how many more would have to go. If I was ever going to have the opportunity to live my dream. I was running as fast as I could in my high heels away from my old male privileges I took for granted until I torched them. Such as sacrificing part of my intelligence and all of my personal safety when I was allowed behind the gender curtain and out of the boy’s club.

The bridge which surprised me the most was when I needed to communicate with the world of ciswomen who let me in and wanted to know more about me. It was a shock to my system to have to actually carry on a conversation or better yet begin one because I did not want to come off as being unfriendly with another person, mainly women. The overwhelmingly group of men as a whole left me alone since they had the sense, I was a traitor to their club. It turned out that if I did not want to burn the bridges between men and myself, they did it for me and they were replaced by the ciswomen I felt more comfortable around anyhow.

When I worked on my male to female transition, the bridges I was building had to be so much stronger than they had ever been before. Mainly because I was risking life as I knew it to do it. Over the years, I had accumulated so much male baggage I needed to figure out what to keep and what had to go so my bridge would carry the load. My baggage included the usual suspects such as spouses, family and friends as well as employment. Again, I was fortunate when I discovered other women with the same interests as me such as watching sporting events.

Lately, I have been receiving comments from readers who are just beginning their gender journeys and the only advice I can give from the other side is to build your bridges well to withstand the changes you will go through. And don’t forget there are many ways to achieve your goal. You can go the surgical route to transform yourself into the person you always knew you should be and go the hormonal route like I did when I was able to thrive with the help of a few ciswomen who showed me my way to build my own bridge into a feminine world. The end result should be whatever feels good and natural to you, you should go with. The one life you have to live should be yours, even if your path to doing it may be a little more different and difficult than everyone else’s. Don’t be like me and take years running from your truth before you face it and win and are able to proudly walk across your bridge.

 

 

Try then Try Again

 

Early Days in my Gender Closet
JJ Hart.

When I first broke out of my gender closet and into the world, there were many cases of failure I needed to deal with.

For example, all the evenings in malls when I was singled out for abuse by groups of teenaged girls. So much so that I tried my best to head to the other side of the mall as quickly as I could in my new high heels before the girls noticed me and started laughing.  When that happened, many times I was sent home in tears wondering what I had done wrong with my presentation. One thing was for sure, I needed to go back to my cross-dressing drawing board and try, try again.

It took me a while to realize I was backwards in my public presentation thinking. I was dressing myself how a man would rather than how a ciswoman would if I stood any chance of blending in and making it in a world I only had just dreamed of. Plus, I benefitted from a crash diet I put myself on which helped me to fit into more stylish feminine clothes. It was the first time in my life that I had been so serious about anything that I could remember.

One big thing I did not realize was the total scope of the male to female femininization project I was taking on. The deeper I delved into the feminine culture I was in, the more I found I had to try to do to become successful and there were many times when I simply not a success. One time that sticks out in my mind was when I visited my gender therapist unannounced as my authentic self and sent her into obvious shock looking around to find out where her son was. I would have thought, since she advertised herself as a gender therapist, she would have been more comfortable around a person cross-dressed as themselves. But she was not. I took it as I had to keep on working on my feminine presentation to hide all the testosterone poisoning male puberty had wrecked my body with.

The more I was able to find myself behind the gender curtain as a transgender woman, the more I needed to try, try again to never stop learning more about how ciswomen spend their lives operating in the world. The circles they run in and their overall dealings with each other as well as men come to mind as I think back on my initial experiences. It was a scary yet exciting time in my life as much of the time I was still risking destroying life as I knew it, if the world discovered my deep dark secret. I had not yet concluded my secret really was that I was a woman hiding behind a man. Not the way I was living thinking I was a man trying to be a woman.

Most of the time, the world did ignore me as my presentation improved well enough to get me by but on the occasions I met the rare TERF (radical feminist) gatekeeper who did not want me behind the gender curtain, I was sent away to try, try again until I earned my way into the places I wanted to go mainly such as women’s restrooms because on my long days out I simply needed to go to the bathroom and not make it such a big deal. It took me a lot of resilience and knowledge of the feminine world to do it but I finally earned my way into the “room” also.

I have always thought that building my fragile confidence into a strong one was one of the best moves I ever made so I could relax in the world and stop trying so hard to be myself. I say fragile because there were so many times over the years when I thought I had achieved confidence only to have it shattered by an unfeeling gender bigot. By trying again and again to overcome the haters, I made it to a point where I could say to heck with them and I was going to live my own life the way I saw fit.  

When I had reached a point where I thought I had enough confidence to get me by was when something unexpected happened to challenge my path. All along, I had some sort of an idea of how complex a ciswomen’s life was than a man’s life, but until I got there as a trans woman, I did not have a real idea of how complex. It was as if every time I thought I could see a clear road ahead on my gender path, someone would throw a stop sign in my way. Making me stop what I was doing and look around. Did I really want to take all these difficult steps I was taking to be a transfeminine person after all.

Of course, once I stopped, looked around and thought about it, I discovered I was in the world which I had always belonged to and I wanted to stay in the worst way. The more I was allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox, the more natural I felt as I felt my life make a seismic shift towards becoming the person I had always meant to be. To keep trying, I needed to decide to risk losing all my remaining close friends, family and employment and embark on the road without any more stop signs.

I was not getting any younger and at the age of sixty my transgender biological clock was running out. It was time to try to see if I was still healthy enough to be approved by a doctor for gender affirming hormones or HRT and I was. Which was actually the last big gender hurdle I had to try because I had already done the social part and I did not desire any extensive facial or genital realignment surgeries. So, I could then try to discover if I could find anyone to share my unique life with.

By trying to put myself out there on dating sites and in the regular straight venues I was going to, that paid off for me too when a ciswoman lesbian from nearby Cincinnati responded to one of my on-line dating requests and we are still together fourteen years later.

All those early years of trying and failing came back to help me years later when I needed it most and my life went full circle.

Thanks for reading along and passing along all your comments and reactions! I really appreciate hearing from you.

 

 

Figuring it All Out

 

Image from Erik McLean 
on UnSplash.  

I correspond quite a bit with one of my regular readers “Bobbie” whose life and mine amazingly align up in many ways including our military service. And if my memory is correct, she also benefited from a heavily influenced lesbian set of interactions. My apologies if I am wrong with my old memory which is like a steel trap…a rusted one. Because I heavily benefited (and still do to this day) with my feminine “upbringing” with my lesbian friends.

At any rate the reason for this post I to explain how Bobbie and I diverged on our gender paths. One very important way was when Bobbie went into how precisely she planned her male to female transition. All the way down to having a supportive wife. Which I did not and I needed to work my transition around her because she flat out refused to live with another woman. But on the other hand, did not mind that I was a cross dresser. She even went as far as scraping money from our limited family finances for me to rent a motel room to cross-dress in so I did not have to go out from our house which was on a heavily traveled street.

 Another way I diverged from Bobbie was her employment as a man required her to have several backup plans for every move, which mine didn’t. I was in the fast-paced casual dining industry which required me to work in an environment which constantly changed and was very difficult to plan ahead for. All of which really appealed to me at the time. Also, for various other reasons, I have decided to stay away from all gender related surgeries. Much different from Bobbie as I will translate for you:

“When the transformation began, the checklist was social first, add HRT, get the orchi and then the bottom surgery. A BA may be in the offing as my P has finally exhausted any more growth and a "Barely B" doesn't quite cut it.” Translating, “Orchi” means removal of the testicles, “BA” means breast augmentation surgery and “P” means taking progesterone hormones in addition to any Estradiol you may be also taking. Finally, “Barely B” means her breast size under the hormones she is taking, and “bottom surgery” is genital realignment surgery and is a major move.

I also decided against taking any progesterone after my endocrinologist did not like the idea at the Veterans Administration. But on the other hand, I started like Bobbie did with social and then went to the HRT or hormone replacement therapy and then went off to live my life as a transfeminine person. By this time, I was in my sixties, excited about my new life and set out to find someone unique enough to want to share it with me.

As you can tell, the whole male to female femininization path is not for the weak of heart and very much trashes the idea that transgender women embark down this extreme path out of a desire to just dress and look like a ciswoman. I get amused when I read that and think if the person saying it only knew the truth, they would certainly think differently.

Also, you can tell from Bobbie’s and I’s paths, there are many different ways to get to where we want to go as transgender women and transgender men. Even though my first dinner date as a trans woman was with a trans man, I still thought I knew the layers of the lesbian community, but I did not. Not only was I learning something totally new, but at the same time, finding out where I fit in. As the result of pure effort and observation, I learned I fit in quite well with the femmes or “lipstick” lesbians I encountered. To this day, I still benefit from my initial friendships I made with lesbians. As I have been in a relationship with a ciswoman lesbian for over fourteen years now and is going strong.

You may not have the circumstance or the ability yet to go “social” like Bobbie and I did, but the world is always changing, and you can change with it. Change is also different. You can plan ahead for six different scenarios (like Bobbie did) or pretty much just step out into the world and do the best you can like I did. I think now, I just wanted someone to realize my truth who knew me, but then it grew into carving out a whole new feminine life away from my old male one. I guess you could say I won the battle by taking an approach I never thought of taking. It was only then that I did set up an orderly “bucket list” of what I wanted to try to do behind the gender curtain in the world at large. As I was getting closer and closer to a dream life I never thought I could succeed in, for the first time in my life I needed to plan ahead and then let destiny take control of my life.

Examples of how destiny led me to successful outcomes were when I was matched up at the VA with a therapist who was knowledgeable about LGBTQ persons and specifically trans ones and was willing and able to help me with important tasks such changing as many of my legal markers that I could. She was really good and even helped me separate my depression and anxiety issues from my gender dysphoria. Maybe most importantly, she opened the door for my approval for HRT which I still cherish today. Sadly, my therapist moved on but I was lucky to have her when I did.

No matter where you are in your gender journey, I always enjoy hearing from you. As I said, remember there is no right or wrong way to discover your true self. I am always interested to hear of different paths. Humans are a very complex tribe and being transgender might be the most complex as all. Just remember you are in excellent company.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being Better as a Trans Woman

 

Image from Donald Gianetti
on UnSplash.

Often you must be better than the world to prove yourself as a transgender woman or transgender man.

An easy example would be we have to be better with our appearance. Because of the current lack of concern over appearance with many ciswomen and cismen, it’s an anything goes fashion world when women are wearing their pajamas and slippers to shop at a big box store, I won’t mention. Because we trans persons have so far to come in the appearance department, we cannot set our appearance bar that low or even want to.

Another problem with appearance is that we have had so few natural advantages to help us along when we first take the tentative steps out of our gender closets. In the case of transgender women, very few have the advantage of escaping the ravages of puberty which gives us angles, broad shoulders and deep voices. So, unlike the curves and softness we see in the women around us and envy so much. To get by in the world as a cross-dresser, we must strive to cover our natural flaws and act like we are not doing it.

The good thing is that ciswomen provide us with a big range of fashion to work from. Some wear dresses, some wear pants, some go without makeup and others don’t as life goes by. All you have to do is grab a spot you feel comfortable in and try to maintain it in a world of curious ciswomen who want to know more about you. You notice I said try to maintain it because early on, finding the best fashion and learning hair and makeup are major challenges we face. As our old bodies do not want to cooperate with the new path you have set them on.

Since I have always felt more comfortable in pants, leggings or well fitted jeans as a trans woman, I often took in criticism from other novice cross-dressers when I went to mixers in pants. Per norm, I did not care what they said about wearing pants as a man all the time so why I would do it as a woman because I was noticing how stylish some women look in their pants. I even had a glamorous silky black low-cut pants suit I wore to prove them wrong. Plus. most importantly what I wore was none of their business if I was aiming to be as good as the world of ciswomen in public at large who were increasingly wearing pants in their wardrobes. Not a bunch of cross-dressers at a social/mixer.

The more I was out in the world and interacting with the public, I discovered that appearance was just a small part of being better than the next person. Following some rough early experiments with my presentation as a transfeminine person, I settled into noticing who was noticing me. I learned men rejected me almost completely (which was fine by me) and women on the other hand wholeheartedly accepted the new me who wanted so badly to be in their world. The percentage of gender acceptance I received totally surprised me and I had to up my game to get better when I faced the public with so much more at stake.

Suddenly, women wanted to talk to me, and I was initially surprised and had to talk back. Then as now, I am very self-conscious about my voice, and it took me what seemed like an eternity to understand my communication skills centered more around what I was saying more than how I was saying it. In fact, I needed feminine vocal lessons to learn more about how women speak to each other. Primarily when men were not around. I also leaned the power of passive aggressive speech behavior in cis women and how it could apply to me when a potentially smiling face did not equal a supportive woman who could just as easy stab you in the back. After I tended to more than a few claw marks down my back, I adjusted to the new world I was in and survived by being better than them.

All these steps led me to pursuing an expanded transgender bucket list of potential things I wanted to do as a trans woman. To learn if I would want to do them on a permanent basis. As my checklist grew, my confidence did too and I discovered how natural I felt in the new exciting yet scary world I was in stripped of all my old male privilege such as dealing with my own personal security. With the menacing male scowl being gone, I had to rely of my new feminine senses to get me by and to stay out of potentially dangerous situations. It was all a major lesson of being better in the world out of a sense of pure survival as a new transgender woman.

At that point, destiny set in for me and set my life upside down as nearly all the loved ones I new and respected passed away. Leaving me all alone. To survive, I had to quickly quit being a victim and decide which direction my life would take. I took the feminine path, was approved for HRT or gender affirming hormones and prepared myself for a bumpy path ahead. At the age of sixty, I needed all the wisdom I had learned from a predominately male life and apply it all to a new female existence and exceed my own expectations.

By taking chances in the world, I had lucked into finding supportive ciswomen friends into my new life and I give them all the credit for the ease that it happened. And it made all the prep work I had done in my life worthwhile. Even still, I found I had to be better than the average woman to find my way and stick to it so I would not slide back to my old male ways.

Before I go, I would like to thank “Grace” for inviting me to write for her group “Empowered Trans Woman” on Medium. I really appreciate it

 

 

 

Stepping Out as Yourself

Image from Max Anderson
on UnSplash. 

Stepping out into the real world and leaving my closet and mirror for the first time was difficult for me. For lack of a better term, I was leaving everything I worked for in my male life behind.

As much as I hated my dark, lonely gender closet, I found it to be a safe place to be when I needed it the most. My ability to put on a dress and makeup soothed my soul, if only on a temporary basis helped until I needed to take another high heeled step into the real world where I so desperately wanted to be. To put it mildly I was scared to death when all my male privileges I had worked so hard to learn were stripped away and I was starting all over again. It was different when I could not rely on a menacing facial expression or an occasional bluster to get me by.

Stepping out into a new feminine world for me meant I needed to immediately begin to work on building a new personality which would grow with me as I worked my way towards my dream goal of living fulltime as a transgender woman. This was the same period of time that I was obsessed by my feminine appearance, so I had a lot on my mind. As I struggled day to day about what gender I was going to be. All too soon, life meant so much more to me than buying a new dress or skirt all the way to how I needed to change my old male movements when I wore them.

As I was forced by being in the public’s eye, I needed to understand exactly what I was getting myself into. So much more than the pretty clothes that I saw the girls around me wearing. If I needed to be more like them, I had miles to go on my gender path to get there. All I knew was at that time, most of the ciswomen I encountered were nice to me. Every little bit helped me learn what my future could be like if I kept stepping out and away from my old male past. Plus, problems kept occurring with my second wife and my male self who saw the changes in me as a threat to their future lives. My second wife saw her husband slipping away and my male self-saw his whole future gone if what I was doing continued.

Through it all, I was able to establish myself as some-sort of a successful cross-dresser before I transitioned into a transgender woman one fateful night when I thought enough was enough and I had to do more to continue up my gender path. Before I became lost entirely and had to reassess where I was. What I learned was that I was actually further along towards my transfeminine goal than I thought I was. I learned the hard way when I was able to be successful when I went out for the first time to enjoy a drink with a group of ciswomen from a nearby mall who just would go out and socialize after work. It was something I always had wanted to do as a transwoman, and I was amazingly accepted into their circle. I guess you could say that night I really stepped away from my old male self and loved it.

Before I knew it, my new shiny shoes (flats this time) were stuck in gender quicksand as I had stepped into a place that I never wanted to get out of. One thing was for sure, if anyone came along with a rope trying to rescue me, I would have turned them down. I was having too much fun challenging the world as my new transgender self to ever turn around and go back to a boring life as a man that I had stepped away from.

Sure, there were still many times that either I was scared to death of where I was going or was out and out rejected by the world, but those times were getting fewer and fewer apart. I was headed towards my dream goal which was slowly coming into focus as a doable project. I say project because I had never attempted such a thing as jumping the gender border to slide behind the gender curtain in my life. When I finally accomplished my goal of being allowed to exist in so-called women only spaces, I certainly was not going to give up all that I had earned.

By this time my second wife had passed away, and my old male self was seeing the writing on the wall, and his days were numbered too. Which left me all alone to make my key life choices. Still after much thought and consideration, I finally gave in totally to my feminine side, and I set out to build a different yet better life with my new ciswomen lesbian friends. All of them helped me round out and refine the woman I always wanted to be. Most of the work I had already put in, so I did not have that far to go. Mainly the only place I needed to go was with my dealings with men. Even that turned out to be relatively easy because most men left me alone because I was not attractive enough or just wanted me as some sort of a fetish object. All my problems went away when my lesbian friends taught me I did not need a man to be validated anyhow.

As stepping out as a transgender woman in the world became natural to me, a whole new universe of life came alive for me. Especially when I was approved for my long-term dream of starting HRT or gender affirming hormones. Something that my second wife always recoiled at the idea of, but on the other hand, my current wife Liz loved. The essence of being on my hormones just carried over into me stepping out into a new world with confidence I had never known before.

 

 

 

Your Lines in the Sand as Gender Markers

 

Image from Sonnie Hiles
on UnSplash. 

For the longest time, I set new lines in the sand as I progressed along my path as a novice transgender woman.

Sometimes, the lines were very faint, and I had a difficult time seeing them. All the way to deep trenches I needed to leap across. It all depended on what I was doing at the time. For example, when I was just dressing in mom’s dresses and putting on her makeup, the lines were very faint and easy to cross. In my mind, I was a boy one moment and a girl the next. A very black and white way to view myself, or so I thought until I grew older.

Instead of growing away from my cross-dressing years, I ended up growing into them by finally coming to a better mastery of the feminine clothes I wanted to wear and maybe more importantly, the artform of applying makeup which was a very deep line to cross for me. If I had worked as hard on my studies and sports than I did on my femininization projects, I would have certainly made the dean’s list every year and starred on the school’s football team. I was mentally built differently because of my gender dysphoria and could not decide for the longest time which gender path I wanted to follow because the feminine path was primarily there for an escape. When my male life became too stressful, I could shave my legs, slide carefully into my pantyhose which I had purchased myself from jobs I had worked and put on a dress and feel better instantly.

Even though I did not want it to happen, I began to build male privileges from doing a good job raising my daughter as a father and working jobs I was promoted at. When I did, I knew I would have a lesser chance of having just a small line in the sand to jump across if I ever needed to. Little did I know, how much both of my efforts would come back to help me in my later years when I encountered severe gender obstacles as I went behind the gender curtain as a transgender woman. I should say finally went behind the curtain since it took me decades to do it.

The problem arose with drawing more and more lines in the sand that my life as a transfeminine person became more complex quicker than I ever imagined. Often, I have described what I went through as sliding down a deep slope grabbing onto whatever I could to maintain the male life that I had. Just to watch it slip away. It led me to falling off the deepest cliff I could have ever imagined when I put away all my male clothes for the last time, went on HRT or gender affirming hormones and put my male life behind me for the last time.

By this time, even my stubborn old male self was admitting he had made a mistake by holding on as long as he did. All the covering lines in the sand I was about to cross with his own ideas did not work, as I was able to negotiate all the challenges thrown at me by ciswomen in the new world I was in. In many ways, I had come full circle when I learned how valuable all the building blocks, he had given me, just gave me more resolve to be a better trans woman. The daughter I mentioned earlier came around to be my earliest and strongest supporter so all the time I put into being with her when she was young came back to help me. Then there was my employment in the restaurant industry which turned out to be very lucrative for me in several ways. The first was with money and the second was with the opportunity to work closely with groups of varied ciswomen. In many ways, I learned what they faced in their lives gave me insight into what I was going to face when I joined their world.

For example, I learned what alpha females meant to the group of women as a whole, and if I could gain their support after I transitioned and joined their world, it would be very valuable to me. In many ways I found that good strong alpha ciswomen from super butch lesbians on down could do to help me erase my lines in the sand. I can’t begin to say how much they helped me. Even my second wife who was an unapproving alpha woman to me was a role model and taught me more about her life than she ever knew. Before she passed away tragically at the age of fifty from a massive heart attack. So, she never got the chance to meet the mature transgender me after I had crossed all the lines in the sand I needed to cross to just survive.

From all sorts of ciswomen, I learned that women come in all shapes and sizes with various levels of support of the transgender community. Many support us from afar and it would be different if it was their husband seeking to make his own line in the sand and become a transgender woman. On the positive side, there is now more information available to spouses of trans women to understand what seemingly a glaringly selfish path is to go down for their husbands. Especially with the husbands who have gone to great lengths to hide their gender passions from their wives for many years. When I step back and look at all the relationships which have ended over the years because of gender dysphoria, I try to wonder what would have happened if my wife was the one who wanted to draw his line in the sand and said enough is enough. I can’t take it any longer.

Of course, now I am biased and think I would have accepted my former wife bringing home another woman to get to know. How would my old male ego react? I am ashamed to say it now, but my old male self would have had to force the issue and solve it once and for all in his favor. Drawing his own line in the sand.

If you are at the point of drawing a new line in the sand for yourself, make it an achievable goal so you do not get discouraged. Finally, stay flexible with your lines as you know some will be deeper than others. If you do, you will stand a better chance of success.

 

 

Loving the Skin You are In

 

JJ Hart.

Loving the skin, you are in is often difficult for a transgender woman or transgender man. In fact, we often come to hate the skin we are in. 

We start early in our lives boxed into a gender we were born into but never felt comfortable with. Many of us go through times of discomfort as we try to sort out who we really are. We have many questions such as are we going through a phase, is it just a fetish and someday will we somehow outgrow our desire to be the gender we always wanted to be.

In my case, it took me decades to accept the skin I was in and to learn to live it in the world as a transgender woman. Recently, I was reminded of my past when I attended a virtual LGBTQ support group meeting at the Veteran’s Administration. Normally it is a very tight knit group of the same people who come every week, but this week we had a new person who joined us who was coming out of her gender shell and slowly learning to live a life as a transgender woman. During the session, she asked if anyone had any advice on dealing with public in general and the police in particular when you are out in the world.

I am not good at giving much advice in situations such as that, so I mainly kept my ideas to myself. Such as the fact that I have had few interactions with the police over the years and those have been mostly positive. Even the ciswoman who called me a pervert once in a women’s restroom, did not call the cops on me. Leaving me with the time I was in a venue I was not a regular in and two women at the bar made it a point to call the police on me after I had used the women’s room. All that happened was I was stopped on the way out by a female cop who told me not to do it again and I went a short distance up the road to one of my regular venues where I knew I would not have any troubles. To make a long story short, I was sorry, but I did not have much of any ideas on a magic cure to dealing with a potentially unaccepting public. You just must develop a thick skin and complete confidence that you are doing nothing wrong and you can make it.

Another problem I have with giving any trans person advice is that I came out seriously so long ago and times have changed. You see reports of so many toxic men harassing ciswomen these days which were barely seen in the days when I was trying my hand at being a single woman at a big sports bar. Plus, I am lucky to live now in a fairly liberal part of Cincinnati where the public at large does not notice me, or care. I am allowed to exist in the world as my true self in my own skin for the first time in my life.

I was fortunate to be one of those trans women who could get out of her gender closet and exist in a stable world where I could flourish and share my ideas about my femininity. Hopefully the new member of the support group will stick around long enough so that I will be able to share thoughts with her about appreciating her own skin. Another problem too is that the group time is at a premium, so I am reluctant to take too much up with my thoughts. Such as, if she is already out enough to wear feminine clothes and paint her nails, what is she waiting for. Maybe she is waiting for someone to come along like I was and kick me out of my closet for good. Which is what happened to me when I was miserable trying to juggle living in both genders, and my future wife Liz told me that she had not seen any male in me at all

Destiny really set in with me when my daughter came on board with knowing the true me by saying among other things that I looked so happy. I mentally added, because for the first time in my life I was having the chance to live in my own skin.

Even with all the positives I was dealing with, I still had to get out into the world and live my new reality. I always had some sort of an idea that ciswomen live more of a complex life than men do, but I had no idea of what I was walking into in my new high heeled shoes. Primarily learning to deal with curious ciswomen and their passive aggressive behavior and potentially drama-filled toxic men filled my evenings when I was going out in my new skin in the world as I knew it. Through it all, I needed to adjust my way of thinking quickly and radically away from the old male way I viewed the world.

What kept me going was the fact that I felt so good and natural in my new transfeminine skin. Deep down I felt this new life I was living was always the way things should have always been for me until the cruel joke of being born a biological male set in. It was something I would have to battle for my entire life.

As far as the physical part of having a new skin, it was way past time for HRT or gender affirming hormones to set in and help me. When I was approved for my life improving hormones, it was like my body was telling me I should have been on them all along. As my overall body skin softened dramatically, along with bigger breasts and longer hair.

The best part of adding hormones to my body was the fact that my emotions set themselves up to better appreciate the whole process. For the first time in my life, I could cry tears of joy which I did when I began to live my life in my own skin. I certainly loved it.

 

 

 

 

 

Violating Gender Boundaries

 

JJ Hart. Pushing my gender\
boundaries. 

Very early in life I learned that violating gender boundaries could result in severe trouble.

It was obvious to me that the male dominated family I was born into would ever accept a son who wanted to be a daughter. So, I had no choice but to turn inward with my developing feminine senses in the male world I was trying to be a part of. I was born way too early to take advantage of the forthcoming online information world with the advent of computers and social media. Again, I was trapped into trying to cross-dress my feelings away anytime I had the chance.

The other main problem I had was that the gender boundaries were so rigid and demanding I could not see any way out of my dark, lonely gender closet. I lived in a rural area with mostly boys and no girls to have a point of reference from. I only remember one occasion when the only girl in the neighborhood was persuaded by a couple of the boys to show her naked genitals to the group, and I was not excited but embarrassed for her at the time. Just another example of how my sexuality was developing away from the “normal” male’s. I had no need to see her private parts and wondered why I was so different. Little did I know, it was just the beginning of challenging my gender boundaries during my life.

As far as the rest of my life went, I wasn’t much of a challenger of anything. It wasn’t until I reached my college years and was drafted into the military during the Vietnam War, did I begin to challenge the system. At the same time, I was starting to challenge the war and the politics around it, I was pushing my cross-dressing boundaries by starting to leave my house more dressed as the person I wanted to see if I could become. I even made what turned out to be a huge mistake by coming out to my fiancé as a transvestite or cross-dresser back in those days. I say huge mistake because she wanted me to tell the draft board I was gay to stay out of the military service. Even then, I knew a lot about myself and did not have to push my gender boundaries so far to lie and tell someone I was gay. As a side note, then and now I did not have anything against the gay community, but I just knew there was a real difference between them and me.

Of course, the military stopped any gender challenging I was thinking of doing dead in its tracks for nearly three years of my young life. The only challenge I could do was mental in nature as I imagined how life could be better for me as a transfeminine person when I was discharged from the Army. Even then, I was restricted in my gender thinking to the reality in life. What I almost did was send a letter (remember them?) to my future first wife explaining it maybe a transwoman picking her up at the airport when she arrived for the first time. She was in the Army too and was discharged about nine months after I was.

Little did I know, if I had decided to test my gender boundaries then it may have been one of the better times to do it because I did not have the chance to build up all the troublesome male baggage I would acquire later in life. On the plus side, I had a very new car that I had shipped home from Germany, my stereo equipment and a sizeable bank account to start a new life with. On the negative side, I thought I had a good chance of losing my family, friends and job if I started all over as a woman.

Long story short, I did not have the courage to push my gender boundaries any further than they were at the time. Except for a few Halloween adventures, and the occasional night out, my life as a trans woman was mundane. It was not until I could not take it any longer the annual yearly adventures at Halloween, did I start to really push my luck by going out more often. My early explorations were rough to say the least until I settled down and learn how to blend in with the ciswomen who I found really ran the world I wanted to be a part of.

As the world let me in as a transgender woman and/or I finally learned the truth of who I was, I kicked and pushed until my gender boundaries came down. It was like the steep slope I write about as I slid down trying my best to hold on to what was left of my old male life but failing miserably. As I continued to gain my new feminine ground behind the gender curtain, which was hidden from me for so long, I had pushed by gender boundary so far, I was too far gone. I was no longer afraid of the fall and knew I was too far gone to ever go back to being my old male self.

From then on, gender boundaries did not mean much to me except from my former history as a man, I could see both sides of the border from where I lived as a trans woman. Leaving the man’s club scared almost all of the cismen away but attracted as many of the ciswomen that I needed to set up a new boundary. The new boundary was one which validated myself as a woman for the first time in my life and it seemed I was learning daily how to adjust to my new situation.

From that point forward, I changed my legal name and became extra serious about my physical and mental well being by being approved for HRT or gender affirming hormones. It just seemed by that time, I was just doing what came natural in solidifying my new gender boundaries. Sure, they were all big moves in my life, but good ones that I had always dreamed of making.

As always. Thanks to all of you who read along with my lifetime worth of experiences. Your responses and comments make it so worthwhile for me!

 

 

 

 

Living the Dream

 

Image from Randy Tarampi
on UnSplash.

I discovered before I could live a dream of living as my own unique sense of womanhood, I needed to discover exactly what that meant.

I knew very early on it was much more than just applying makeup and parading around in one of mom’s dresses. It went much deeper than that. I wanted to be a girl as badly as anything I had ever wanted in my life.

The problem was that I was stuck in an information “never-never” land with no internet or social media of any sort to provide key information on what it really meant to have issues with your gender and not just throw you aside with some sort of a mental illness diagnosis. I did know enough about myself to know I was not mentally ill for wanting to be everything feminine. So, I did the only thing I knew how, day dream my life away envying the ciswomen around me.

As I grew into myself, I learned more about my dream and the overall demands it would make upon my life. Even though I tried not too, I still added extra male baggage such as a child, marriage and a better career to my life. I always thought I would be better off lonely with just having myself to depend on if I ever had to get rid of it all in my male world and start all over again as a transgender woman. Another problem was that I was tantalizing close to encountering other gender conflicted people who were actively following their dreams, so I knew it was possible.

For example, I just missed crossing paths in my broadcasting career with other trans women who were actively following their dream. One at a small radio station I worked at in my hometown and another I ran into at a AFTN Thailand radio/tv reunion in New Orleans. Sadly, the trans woman was so shy and backwards, I could not even get her attention to say hello.

Everything changed when I came home to nearby Columbus, Ohio and was invited to very diverse small parties on a regular basis. Everyone was there, including several trans women who were headed for gender realignment surgeries that I was able to interact with and learn from. How much exactly did my dream entail? Going all the way like they did, or not was my major point of wanting to know about them. The one thing I did find out was that they had taken the time and effort to set themselves up for success in the new lives they were undertaking. One trans woman was a firefighter getting ready to retire and had a good pension and insurance coming to cover her surgery and another was a very successful electrical engineer who was extraordinarily beautiful and knew she would not have any problems continuing to work after the surgeries.

I was in neither of their classes in appearance, insurance coverage or job security to even compare myself to them, but still my dream of ever living as a transfeminine person would not go away.

Somehow, I needed to carve out my own individual gender path to success if I was ever going to make it. Finally, I learned the powerful message to just be myself and most of the rest of my problems in my male to female femininization would fade into the background. No, I was not extra attractive such as thedestiny transitioning transgender women that I knew but I realized that many of the ciswomen that I knew weren’t either. It was very shallow of me to think that all that went into to being a quality person as a woman was just appearance, so I grew past it. My focus shifted into having more confidence in myself as a good person that a stranger would like and away from just how I looked. When I did, my dream began to become a better focus. Maybe I could do it after all.

Of course, my major focus was what was I going to do with all the unwanted male baggage (and some of the wanted too) that I was planning on taking along on to my new life. At that point in time, my second wife was still alive, and she had made it a point to tell me she would never want to live with another woman, so I had to figure out what I was going to do about that major problem. Then I also had the usual conflicts we all face such as what we are going to do about employment and would any of our friends accept us.

For me, destiny came along and in one fall swoop showed me the way to living my dream. My wife passed away. Leaving me alone to consider my future about the time what was left of my close male friends died too. It turned out destiny was giving me a clean life slate to work from when I began to start all over. In addition, I was old enough to retire and work a little on the side to make ends meet and the Veterans Administration health care system which I was already a part of decided to approve gender related care or HRT for qualified veterans which I was. Destiny could not have shown me a better path to my dream than if I had planned it that way. I needed to pay my dues and work through many dark, lonely days to get to the light, but it was worth it when I did.

Finally, my dream became a focus for me when I met my future wife Liz and other ciswomen who let me into their world. I was able again to focus my dream on reality and make sure it was not a nightmare. Perhaps the best part of the entire trip up my gender path was the likelihood that I would ever make it. To say the least, my going forward was a shaky proposition to start with and all too often, my mental gender darkness threatened to catch up to me and my dream.

Thank goodness it never did, and my transgender dream became a reality.

Reality for me is also to have you join in with my thoughts. Thanks so much for doing so!

 

 

 

 

When There is No One to Believe in You

 

JJ Hart

Sadly, transgender women and transgender men spend much of their lives being lonely with no one left to believe in them.

When it happens, the dark lonely closet you have been dealing with becomes even more restrictive and uncertain. With me, the only thing that kept me focused on my gender path was a little voice which kept telling me that against all odds, I was doing the right thing.

Maybe, like some of you, I had the same misgivings of what I was doing as I cross-dressed as a girl. Was I going through a phase, a fetish or was something wrong with me mentally all entered my mind one time or another. I did know, I had very few male friends and for some reason felt uncertain around the ones I did meet. Which only added to my loneliness and made me withdraw further within myself. It was very difficult for me to believe anything about myself during this portion of my life. But I thought I had no choice but to struggle on.

It was not until much later that I found that I did not have to struggle as much as I was doing as ironically, both sides of my dual gendered personality were coming out of their shells slowly at the same time. After military service in the Army, I learned to not be afraid of other competition from men, while at the same time I was learning how to exist in a ciswoman’s world I had always dreamed of. Life as I knew it was becoming unbelievably complex as I tried to balance two genders mentally and physically.  Every day, I needed to concentrate on who I was going to be when I faced the public. Ironically, I needed more room in my closet to make room for marriages, kids and employment.

Even when all of this was going on, I still felt lonely and wondered what I was doing wrong with my life. The problem was I was living backwards, which I would not understand until much later in my life sadly. The basics did not come to me that I was not a man trying to be a woman but was a woman trying not to be a man. It all comes under the old saying “If I had known then, what I know now, what a better life I would have had.” But the fact remained I was still living a very shallow life as a novice transgender woman and had so much to learn before I could claim my own version of womanhood.

For the longest time, I just took for granted I would just be lonely as a part of life I would have to get used to. Especially after my second wife of twenty-five years unexpectedly passed away from a massive heart attack. Even though she did not accept me as a trans woman, somehow, we still did stay together until the end. At least, I loved her deeply and was never lonely with her, or so I thought.

I found you do not miss what you had until it is gone, and death is the ultimate version of being gone and starting all over for me at the age of fifty-five was not going to be easy. Even though the relationships I had built up as a man were very few, what I had were all starting to die also. Any relationships with ciswomen as a man that I had were few and far between because I was not sure which direction I would go with my gender. I did not want to start another relationship with a woman just to end it by telling her she was actually living with another woman. As the gays would say, I was keeping my true self on the “downlow” the best that I could.

What happened next was that I was increasingly having a difficult time staying on the “downlow” because of all the explorations I was doing in the straight world I was trying to re-enter. This time as a transfeminine person. I was slowly building social relationships in the world with ciswomen who suddenly showed an interest in me. The problem I had was I was still not on HRT yet and was still in my mind too fake to pursue a relationship with a woman when after I stripped down to my basics, I was still a man without my fake hair, breasts and hips. Even with all the social stimulus I was receiving in my new world, I was still frustrated and feeling alone in my life.

I finally realized that I was the only one holding myself back from learning if I could be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT.  I made the medical appointment from a doctor’s ad I had seen in a local LGBTQ publication and before I knew it, I was deemed healthy enough to be approved. It was a major step in my life and one I did not take lightly. The first night I took the minimum dosage of estradiol and spiro pills I was prescribed, I saved the special occasion for when my future wife Liz could join me in a venue in Dayton, Ohio.

Very soon, my HRT dosage was increased, and I ended up calling them my “magic pills” before I was switched to patches which would be easier on my system. Thanks to Liz and a few other ciswomen friends, I was able to think about forming deeper relationships with women again. My body had morphed into a curious gender blend of breasts, hips, soft skin with a non-performing male piece of equipment which did not seem to matter to the ciswomen around me who were not as insecure with their sexuality as most of the cismen that I knew.

Most importantly, I gained the confidence to believe in myself, which led me to not suffer the extreme loneliness I had felt during many parts of my life. It was like I was on a wheel, and my life had had the time and good fortune to come around again.

Hey all!!!! Thanks for reading.  Your input makes it all worthwhile to me.

 

 

 

Who Got in Your Way

 

Image from UnSplash. 

Perhaps there was that special person or persons who stood in the way of you going along your formative gender path. In my case, I always tried to blame my second wife for being in my way of perfecting my male to female feminization project. My first wife was not a factor because I thought she was just along for the ride, no matter how bumpy it became and I always thought I could suddenly tell her I would be gone for several months because I was going to Thailand not to visit but for gender realignment surgery and she would say be safe.

That was all well and good until I met my second wife who I immediately fell in love with. I ended up divorcing my first wife and marrying my second in a fairly short time. Like my first wife, even though she knew I was a parttime cross-dresser when we married it was fine with her but unlike wife number one, she always resisted me going any further towards maturing into a transgender woman. Being as strong-willed as she was, I wonder how we made it through twenty-five years of marriage until she passed away.

Throughout the years, we somehow stayed committed to each other following many bitter battles over how I was wanting to live my life. She was much wiser than me over the years as she told me things such as I made a terrible woman (true at the time) and why didn’t I just go ahead and move away and live like a woman and save both of us the hassle. As I always point out, I did not know how to “make” a better woman because I had never been behind the feminine gender curtain to discover all the complexities of what I was taking on. As far as just going away and starting all over on my own, I was selfish or self-centered and wanted to maintain as much as I could of my male life which among other things paid most of the bills.

Through it all, faint glimpses of my transgender dream kept filtering into my life, and I did things like transvestite-transgender mixers and Halloween parties to experiment if I could make it at all. Once I received positive feedback from doing it, I was pushed forward to expand the boundaries of my marriage. Just to be met with an equal amount of pushback from my wife. The worst part about it was I understood where she was coming from as her marriage was unraveling right in front of her eyes at the hands of another woman. Who was me. I ended up resenting her in a couple of ways. First, because she was what I always wanted to be. Soft curvy body and all. And second because she stood directly in my path of achieving the same things that she took for granted, along with the rest of her ciswomen friends. Great makeup, hair and clothes could not hide the envy I felt for missing out on a feminine life I always wanted.

It took me awhile after she passed on at the age of fifty to realize who the real culprit was who was standing in my way of my male to female transition. All along it was all me who never responded the right way when my wife said be man enough to be a woman. As I said, I was too selfish to not want to give up all the male privileges I had earned over the years and wanted to live my life on dual gender impossible terms as long as I could.

I also tried therapy on the side to help the way I felt and even rejected their advice when essentially, they told me the same thing my wife told me. There was nothing they could do about me wanting to be a woman. She was a part of my inner self and only I could deal with her. When it came right down to it, I was scared of my inner woman and how she could ever carve out her own life in the world. It turned out, I just never gave her enough credit as over the years with help from strong feminine role models like my mom and wife, she was able to mold her own personality. Even though she had to keep it hidden for decades. Those same strong ciswomen showed her where there was a will, there was a way. Especially when you had to take the time and effort to get there.

Once I found myself firmly placed behind the gender curtain, the real work began to make sure I never “made” a terrible woman. I wanted to as much as possible, bring all the good feminine characteristics with me so I could do more than survive. I wanted to thrive as I made my way to my dream of living a transgender life. As I did, the major realization came to me that it was me and only me who was standing in my own way all those years when I was wondering what gender I was at all. Shame on me for not having the courage to face my true self in the mirror and not let my gender dysphoria get in the way. Worse yet, everything was screaming within me that I was doing the right thing when I approached my transgender womanhood. Freeing myself up to live was as if I was taking a ton of weight off of my shoulders.

Ironically, once I was approved to play in the girls’ club, the difference I had from the different upbringing I had made me a special sort of woman to the ciswomen who accepted me around me. Even though they knew I came with different baggage, the most radical advice I ever got was welcome to our world when I was complaining about hot flashes. As my body started to respond to the HRT or gender affirming hormones I was on that I had waited so long for. I don’t think the women ever realized how badly I wanted to be in their world.

If it was not for me being in my own way, I would have been in their world sooner. My proper place to be.