Stopping was Impossible

 

Image from Edward Howell
on UnSplash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Is There Really a Difference between Genders?

 

Image from Pea on UnSplash. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sealing the Final Deal in my Gender Struggle

 

JJ Hart. Key Largo last year.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

If Your House of Cards is Broken, What Then

 

Image from Nik Korba on UnSplash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

Transgender Dreams

 

Image from Felipe Delgado
on UnSplash

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Completing Myself

JJ Hart doing Transgender Outreach Speech

I knew very early on in life that just cross-dressing as a girl in front of the mirror was not going to complete me in many ways. There just had to be more if I was risking my life as I knew it as a boy to dress as close as I could as a pretty girl.

Sadly, I had to ignore my gender truths, went on living life as a boy successfully and learned how to internalize my gender dysphoria. It all came back to haunt me later in life when the effects set in to my already frail mental health. Especially when I had started to go out more and more in public as a self-proclaimed transgender woman and I really put off hiding who I was to the most important person to me who was myself. I refused to make the changes needed to make myself whole for the first time in my life.

In the kindest words available, gender dysphoria was hell for me in my life. What made it so bad was when I applied my makeup correctly, I could actually see what could have been possible in life if I had not had to struggle with my gender identity. What made matters worse was when those brief moments of gender clarity were ripped away when I needed to go back to my male world. In other words, I never allowed myself to be made whole in my life until much later.

What had to happen first was the all-out decision made to do it. I was very cautious in the moves I made because I had so much at risk in my life. Losing my wife, family and job all weighed heavily into my decision. All the time and effort my male self-put into building a successful life would be wasted.  In so many ways  I was in a bad space which I think is humorous for anyone to think I ever had a choice in my battle with gender dysphoria. It was stopping me from being whole and living my life to the fullest.

While all of this was going on, I was attempting to learn as much as I could about living as a transfeminine person. I was going out every spare moment I could in the world to see if I could make it at all. And when I did, I knew I felt increasingly natural, and something was going to have to change in my life if I was to go on living. What happened was I loved the feminine world I was in and even though I experienced several rough spots, I knew I wanted (and needed) to learn more about my own form of womanhood. As I like to say, I was essentially starting from point zero and had everything to learn about feminine existence. Especially an existence where not everyone accepted me. Amazingly most everyone did and I was able to ignore the rest.

As the challenge of turning my life over to my feminine side and living a fulltime transgender existence, again the stress on me increased. Should I go through the process of being approved for gender affirming hormones of HRT was a major hurdle to cross. It would represent to me a final step in making me whole. If the hormones did what I thought they would, and everything I read about also. Even though I knew I could still go off the HRT is something went wrong, nothing ever did, and my body took to them like I should have been born this way.

It did turn out to be the final big step I took to combine my inner Yin and Yang gender selves and make myself a whole productive person. When I found out what I was missing, I had wished I had tried to make myself whole years before I faced the reality of my life and moved forward. Now I know what I did but it is way too late to make up for lost time for me at my advanced age of seventy-six.

Now seems to be the time to (no pun intended) transition into some busy work I have to bring up. The first is, there will be no blog post tomorrow because I am going to my trifecta of medical appointments. Tomorrow is my hematology appointment at the big Cincinnati Veterans Medical Center. It is my yearly visit when they check all sorts of blood related issues such as my all-important estradiol. I just hope it comes out as good as the last major trip to the vampires and my recent eye appointment last week. My eyes were the same as they were several years ago and I did not even need new eyeglasses. The third part of the trifecta won’t be until February when I go for my annual mammogram. So there is a lot going on. When I made my life whole. 

Playing the Short Gender Game

 

Image from Jayson Hindrichsen
on UnSplash.

During my life, I always have taken the easy way out and thought about important things such as my gender as a short-term issue.

I write often of my love for the mirror when I was young. I hated seeing my male self-reflected back at me but completely enjoyed it when the mirror came to life and I was cross dressed as a pretty girl. Perhaps it was then that I started to think of my life as a short-term basis. Would I eventually outgrow my desire to be a girl when I became older, or if I did not, what would happen to me then. To make matters worse, the Vietnam War was ramping up and I had the constant threat of military duty to think of. Normally when I did, and the coast was clear, I ran back to the mirror and escaped behind a dress and makeup.

As I wrote about yesterday on Veterans’ Day, military duty finally caught up to me when my draft lottery number was fifty-two, so all the short-term thinking and worrying I did was a waste of time. I was going to have to put all my love of being feminine behind me and survive the best I could. It turned out that all the worrying I did about my gender issues and sexuality was wasted too. As I stayed very short-term in my cross-dress thinking, destiny took over in my life, and I started to do more and more in the world to express my new feminine self. Even though I found myself living on the edge more than once, I learned to live there until the next challenge came along. These were the years of changing jobs and moving my family way too much.

As I frenetically moved through life, I was moving too fast to slow down and see what the real issue was. It was gender, and sooner or later I would have to deal with it one on one. Until I did, I would be living a lie and a very messy one at that. Out of the one transgender woman I personally know who told me she was never gender dysphoric, I would guess she would tell me also that she never encountered any messy moments in her life when she transitioned. If she did not, she is one of the few that I know who didn’t.

Many of my messy moments stemmed from me being selfish and wanting to maintain my twenty-five years of marriage to a woman I really loved when she was against me going any further as a transgender woman and starting gender affirming hormones or HRT. By attempting to have it all in my life, my mental health suffered, and I made many mistakes as I tried indirectly to out myself to the world. The biggest one was when I insisted on going into my own restaurant dressed as a woman and being immediately recognized which I could have been fired for.

By this time, I was in a downward spiral which I could see no way out of. It all led me to a suicide attempt and more dissatisfaction with life. Through it all, I had a little voice within me saying everything would be OK someday if I just followed my transfeminine instincts. But before I did, I was stubborn and had a lot of life yet to live. Just when I thought I could not go any lower, I did. I lost my wife and three out of the only four male friends I had to death. Which sent me even lower into depression. I was at a point the experts say with drug addicts who must hit bottom before they can start the path upward. Just change the wording to my male self was at the bottom of his journey and it was time to give my inner female a chance to live. Because, at this time, there was no longer time for short term solutions, my male self just had to be done.

Fortunately, I was able to salvage all the years of practice and learning I put into my femininizing projects and did not have to start from scratch when it came to working on my presentation as a transgender woman. I could look at the long-term benefits of my male to female gender transition. It was such a relief to be able to finally change my thought processes around and not play the short-term gender game at all.

It is Right When you Know it Is

 

Image from Caroline Herman
on UnSplash.

Some have asked me over the years, when did I know it was the right time for me to leave my closet and emerge into the world as a transgender woman. It is a complex question with a very easy answer. I always knew I was having problems with my gender but did not have a clue for years what to do about it.

The only relief I had was the brief time I had to rapidly cross dress in front of the mirror, away from my family and friends. Even when I was able to accomplish my goal of looking like a pretty girl, I still was aware deep down that something was not right with my life. In my own way, I set out to find any gender solutions I could, on my own, with no available sources to aid me. Plus, at the time, my male self was rapidly settling into a relatively successful life, and he wanted nothing to do giving up any of it to my inner feminine self. It turned out, this would be a battle I would have had to face for decades of my life to come. I would spend any available free time I had as a cross dresser, only to have what I learned rejected when I went back to my male life.

The only thing which kept me going was the deep idea I had that what I was doing was actually the natural part of my existence. And the parttime male life was an act. The act which became so good over the years that I shocked a number of people I knew when I finally came out as a transgender woman. I always had assumed they had thought something was up with me when they saw me at Halloween parties dressed as a woman but never did. It was like my male self-tried to dig a deep hole to bury my female self was never quite successful as she kept digging herself out.

The years at that point seem to fly by with the continuing fights with my second wife over considering if I was transgender at all and at the same time, me improving my transfeminine presentation during the times I was out in the public’s eye. I started to do more than just walk around in malls to see if I could present well and started to accomplish small tasks such as doing part of the family grocery shopping as a woman. I found I could do the tasks, and my life began to feel so natural again. The opposite of when I needed to go back to living as a man. It seemed unfair to me when my wife and my male self-ganged up on me to protect their interests in the relationship and I did not know what to do because I was just doing what was becoming more natural to me.

All the infighting only did one thing and that was prolonging the truth from coming out. I had always been destined to be feminine and when the time was right, I would be able to claim my birthright. The longer I lived as a transgender woman among ciswomen I knew I was in the right spot and had to face the facts about myself. My wife unexpectedly passed away from a massive heart attack leaving only my male self to protest any idea of me being trans and starting the HRT medical treatment. Under a doctor’s care of course.

Finally, when faced with the reality of my future life, my male self-gave in to my inner feminine self who had waited so long to live and prosper. More importantly, I was tired of all the internal fighting and knew I had readied myself to make a choice. All the frustrating years of playing with makeup and clothes came back to help me. I did not have to worry so much about my presentation when I made the decision to permanently be in the public’s eye as a transgender woman. I found a great majority of the world either didn’t pay any attention or were just curious of me which was a great surprise. I could relax and enjoy the wonderful new world I had always dreamed of.

When I finally stopped the gender in-fighting I suffered through all those years, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders at the age of sixty. Why I waited so long to face my true self in the mirror and decide to do the right thing will forever be a mystery to me. My only excuse is, I just knew the time was right.

 

I "Doesn't" Know It

 It used to be when I was asked why I preferred to be feminine over masculine, and I quoted a famous baseball announcer for the Cincinnati Reds and said, “I doesn’t know it.” At the time and continuing to this day, I can’t tell you why I identify as a transgender woman. I am just being me.

The problems began when I began my gender path and ran head-on into many obstacles I needed to conquer. I suppose it all started with the possibility my mom was treated with the DES medication to help with problem pregnancies. This was back in 1949, and she had suffered through three still births before I came along. Even though nothing was ever proven, DES flooded the uterus with the estrogen hormone in women and was suspected of causing gender issues later in life with the children under the treatment. Naturally, if I had my choice of being transgender and being alive, I would take the trans life every time because the life I have lived has been different and even more exciting than the normal persons I know.

So, if I cannot blame DES on my lifetime of gender issues, what could I blame? I doesn’t know it. Could I blame mom for letting me watch her apply her makeup before she went out, or my dad who set nearly impossible male standards for me to live up to. Since both of them were products of the “greatest generation” (survivors of the great depression and WWII). They were stuck in their ways, and I was left out when it came to any possible discussion of my gender issues. Plus, both of them have long since passed away, so why bother.

Even though I tried to come out to my mom after I got out of the Army, and was rudely rejected with the threat of psychiatric care, years later when I changed my legal name, I chose my mom’s first name as my middle name and kept my dad’s family name to honor both of them for the sacrifices they made to bring me into the world. I am sure with the lack of knowledge about gender issues at all, they would have honestly said they doesn’t know it when it came to me and my so-called problems which turned out to be anything but in the future.

As I cracked my gender shell and escaped into the world, I discovered two main groups of people to deal with. The easiest group were men who largely left me alone except on isolated circumstances when they tried to mentally abuse me for leaving the male club, I had been a part of. The only thing the abuse did to me was prove I had made the right decision. The other main group was the ciswomen I met. They proved to be very curious of what I was doing in their world and once they determined I meant no harm and was serious for the most part left me alone. The only thing I knew for sure was I was getting more female attention than I ever had in my life, and I needed to make sure I made the most of it. I needed to walk a delicate balance of when to open my mouth and interact, then shut up and listen and learn the basics of survival as a transfeminine person in the world. 

The gender learning curve was difficult, but I managed to learn what was offered to me unknowingly by the women around me. They never knew all they did for me, but I was amazed at the depth of the feminine world around me as compared to the male world I knew. At times I felt as if I was sinking in the new depths, I found myself in until the women I knew rescued me and made me stronger. Finally, I made it to a point where I did know it. I was following my gender instincts for a change and doing the natural right thing. It was time to take the next step and see if I could get approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT. It turned out I made the right decision after quite a bit of thought.

The way my body took to the hormones gave me a whole new opportunity to experience a life I always should have been living. I doesn’t know it was forever replaced by a peaceful gender spirit I wished I could have experienced sooner in life. By this time, I was sixty and had lived quite the life to make up for, as a man. Now I had to make up for lost time and do the best to experience all the gender wonders I had discovered as a transgender woman. 

Do "It" or Die

 

Image from Claudia Love
on UnSplash.  

I find it humorous when a gender bigot or some sort of other hater thinks transgender women or trans men had a choice when they decided to transition into the gender they should have always been.

The haters conveniently overlook the fact we trans people spend a lifetime of discontent over our gender dysphoria. In my case, the dysphoria invaded my already frail mental health and nearly destroyed it and me. I suffered from being born into the pre-internet “dark ages” where information on gender issues in particular was very hard to come by. It took years of my life before I was formally diagnosed with dysphoria and even worse, a bi-polar disorder.

It all started when I spent my days off work in bed, not wanting to move at all and forcing myself to work to keep my job. Of all people, the first real gender therapist I had diagnosed my problem when I brought it up in a conversation we were having. She ended up telling me she could prescribe medications for my depression but not for me wanting to be a woman. I should have listened to her and took more action than just cross dressing when she told me that. I was still stubborn though, and my male side thought he could conquer all. Setting up an internal war I would fight for years. I was fortunate when the prescribed medications worked with my depression but not so fortunate when they did absolutely nothing when it came to me wanting to be a woman. In other words, my gender therapist was right.

In the meantime, as my gender war raged on, I was out of my closet exploring the world to see if I could survive at all. As with any other novice, I had my good days and my bad days but something deep inside kept telling me to keep going because my survival was at risk. How much so, I still had not fully grasped.

As with anyone else, the years seemed to fly by and regardless of the unlikely idea I could ever achieve my dream of competing in and surviving in a transfeminine world successfully, I slowly was making it. Ironically, many times when I did make it, the trip up was not worth the trip down mentally. A prime example was the night I went to a cross dresser-transgender mixer on Long Island, New York and was forced to show proof I was actually a man before I was admitted to the mixer. Of course, I was on cloud nine for days after that before I crashed back down into my unwanted male world. I so badly wanted to take the next step in my transition but was afraid to do it which created extra pressure on me. Sadly, I took the pressure out on my second wife who I perceived as a problem when she did not understand what I wanted to do.

It turned out, I needed a ciswoman in my life to challenge me to do more than just look like a woman. She forced me into searching for the elusive lives’ ciswomen lead, and why they were so different than men. Still, I was stubborn and thought I had already put that research in until my path took me to a whole different gender world which I was never allowed to visit before. Until I tried and finally let in to see what my wife was talking about.

By this time, I was reaching the point in my life when all my explorations into womanhood were taking me as far as I could go. I was staring ahead at reaching my sixties and knew I was not getting any younger. It was time to try to be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT and take the next big step towards my dream life. If I did not, I may never have the chance to do it again. Plus, I was coming off the darkest moments in my life when everyone dear to me died (including my wife) and the only comfort I had was my inner feminine self. At that point, she showed me the reality of where I was in life.

As the pressure mounted to choose which direction my life would take at the age of sixty, I chose female and closed the book forever on my male self. At that point, I never looked back and took the pressure off myself. Finally, a wise move and somewhere I could hear my second wife saying I told you so. She did but I just did not listen. And, by the way, I still suffer from depression and from dysphoria but now I have learned to live with both of them by living the way I was born to be.

I did it before I died.

 

 

 

 

 

Gender "Muscle" Memory

 

Image from Jeremy Bishop
on UnSplash

Perhaps you have heard an elite athlete talk about having muscle memory when they play their sport. Especially professional baseball players who make a living off of hitting curve balls. Which has nothing to do with presenting as a transgender woman, or does it?

I remember the days when I was going through an unwanted male puberty, and I was so self-conscious of how I was walking as a man. I did not want to attract any bullies by thinking I was too effeminate. I must have been fairly successful because I rarely had any problems. I was just a boy who liked sports and cars and stayed under society’s bigotry radar.

Then, when I started to explore the feminine world, I needed to throw out all of my walk like a man training and start to mimic the distinctive walk of a woman the best I could. I took me a while to do it, but I finally came up with a transfeminine walk that did not look like a linebacker in drag. The problem became doing it enough to have it become muscle memory. Mainly because I was not doing it all the time. Spending a day as a transgender woman learning the world, then reverting back to being a man on a job which demanded control was literally mentally killing me. On the days I had to be a man, I felt as if I was in some sort of a gender fog as I could see and feel my dream of womanhood but could not quite achieve it.

What I did was try to practice my feminine muscle memory anytime I did not think anyone was watching. Big box stores later in the evening were my favorites because they were largely empty of other shoppers. Later I wonder if I made the store’s security cameras and they were amused by a man trying to walk like a woman. But, of course, I never found out because I was not doing anything wrong. At least I found out I was being a success as a novice woman when on a few occasions on my male days at work, I was referred to as a woman.

Finally, practice started to make a successful feminine presentation possible for me, and I started to relax when I was out of my closet and the mirror exploring the world. The only problem I ran into was when I became too comfortable and forgot what I was doing. Like the time I was walking through a mall not paying attention when one of my heels became stuck in a sidewalk crack and I twisted my ankle. Lesson learned as from then on, when I was wearing heels, to watch out for cracks in the sidewalks. Muscle memory the hard way.

Until I began to live my life increasingly more as a transgender woman was I able to put the image I always saw in the mirror into motion. The pretty pictures I was able to take of myself were one thing but surviving in the world of cisgender women was another. Every time I thought I had learned all I needed to know, something else came along to shock me into going farther. I was growing increasingly frustrated and again my fragile mental health was suffering. Until I found a good therapist to help me face my truth. I should never had attempted to assume the male role I was in and all of the muscle memory which came with it. All it solved was making my life more complex when I tried to change it and enter the feminine world for good.

Especially with the help of the gender affirming hormones I was approved to take, my confidence as a trans woman grew and any resistance to losing my old male muscle memory went away. I carved out a new life and even found away to be happy in it. I was similar to the very successful baseball player who is winning the world series as my outward motion fit my inward feminine feelings. Even the HRT hormones enabled me to develop my own hips I was so envious of on other women. Anything I could do to come closer to my dream was welcomed.

Having the gender muscle memory from so long ago is something I still think about to this day. Even though I am highly immobile. It was the way I could get started towards another huge step in my male to female gender transition.

 

Gender Lost and Found

 

Image from Patrick Hawlick
on UnSplash.  

Navigating the path of lost and found is often very difficult for a transgender woman or transgender man. Speaking for me only, my path was filled with many holes and dead ends before I ever saw any success.

Perhaps, even more frustrating was the fact that once I thought I had made a significant move forward, I would hit a brick wall and be rejected again, and desperation set in. Too many times, at the beginning of my feminine experience when I had no clue of what I was doing wrong when I had enough courage to leave my dark closet. It finally occurred to me that I had had enough of my frustrating existence as a man. Sadly, some days I was on my transfeminine game. Some days not so much as there was so much to learn. Such as, on the days when my makeup, hair and wardrobe looked presentable, I caught myself making the same old male scowl I had perfected to keep the world away. It got so bad, I even had a little girl point me out to her mom by saying “Look at the big MEAN woman” Not the image I wanted to portray but at least I passed the woman part. The gender cup was half full, and I had learned a valuable lesson.

My biggest challenge was putting together my feminine image once I succeeded in getting it out of the mirror. The mirror was always kind to me by telling me just what I wanted to hear. While the public was brutally honest with me and they were my mirror. Sometimes I found what I was looking for and was accepted as a trans woman, and some days I wasn’t. The classic lost and found. My goal always was to keep my gender finds much more frequent than my losses. What I never knew was how difficult that would be. I thought I had a good understanding of what a woman’s life would be all about, until I learned how wrong I was. It seemed my lessons were like peeling back the layers of an onion. Even to the point of shedding tears when I was not successful.

The more I followed the obscure gender signs on my path, the more of my male life I lost and of course, he hated it. With the hate came an alliance with my second wife to stop me from finding more of my transgender self. The two on one battle was never fair, but I knew I would have to fight it anyway for my self-survival. The ultimate lost and found was at stake for me. I had a life to lose when I transitioned as I faced the very real reality of losing my marriage, family, friends and employment. On the other hand, I faced the growing reality I could live out my lifetime dream of living as a woman on my terms.

Ultimately, I discovered I uncovered a life so rich and full, I wondered how I had ever lived without it before. Of course, I am referring to my new life as a transgender woman. I found my unique life between the two main binary genders gave me a perspective on life that many others just don’t have. I never lost my knowledge of what men think, while at the same time gaining an idea of what women were thinking too. In fact, several women I knew after I transitioned reached out to me for ideas about problems they were having with their men. I knew I had finally arrived and had gained more than I had ever lost.

As I could see the distant finish line on my gender path, I picked up speed and did things such as start gender affirming hormones or HRT. The hormones never made me transgender but helped me to sync up my internal gender issues. I was so fortunate when the doctor said I was healthy enough to start his hormonal program. Minimal dosage or not, I was on my way again.

Even though, I don’t think I would wish gender lost and found on anyone, for me, what I went through made life interesting. Just to understand in my own way what ciswomen go through in their lives as close as I could took me closer to my goal of jumping to what I saw as the side of the gender border, I wanted to be on. I even lived through the old “bait and switch” side of life when I thought I was being successful, but I wasn’t. Ultimately, learning more and more transgender lessons as I did.

 

 

 

No Addiction...Just Fact

 

Image from Yumu on
UnSplash.

Perhaps many of you went through the same misgivings about our male to female transitions as I did.

First, I felt it was a simple fetish with the new feminine clothes I was trying to wear. Then, when I outgrew the fetish idea along with mom’s clothes, I needed to try to determine exactly what was going on with me and my gender issues. With no help, and stuck in a very dark closet, I felt alone with no one to talk to. Thank goodness for the “Transvestia” publication by Virginia Prince coming into my life by pure accident which gave me hope for the future. There were others like me who wanted to look like women and have mixers with each other. If only I could make it to one, maybe some of my gender questions could be answered. While entertaining, the mixers I discovered which were close enough for me to attend, did not really answer many of my deep-seated questions. Such as why I was wearing women’s clothes as much as possible. Was I addicted to the clothes or was something else going on.

It did turn out that something much deeper with me was going on. It took me years to figure out the truth. Something much deeper was going on with me and my deeply held gender issues which should not have been problems at all, if I had faced up to them. I was not addicted to looking like a woman, the fact was, I wanted to find my own version of being a woman.

Then the real search for my identity began, as I finally had the courage to open my closet door and go out. In the beginning, ever so briefly until I built up my confidence as a novice transgender woman. Ironically, back then, the term transgender had not been widely used. There were only transvestites (or cross dressers) and transsexuals who wanted to have major surgeries called sex changes. Through this period of my life, I had the uneasy feeling I did not really fit into the transvestite or transsexual mold. I was different and still confused. All the diverse parties I attended were not helping me decide where I really fit.

Still, I kept trying to find my way, and I kept meeting more and more people on the gender spectrum at the parties I went to. From cross dresser admirers to impossibly feminine transsexuals, to the occasional lesbian, I was able to broaden my knowledge of the gender world as I knew it and further research where I belonged. By meeting all of them, I was able to determine where I wanted to be in the world as a transfeminine person and go from there. Plus, I did know, once and for all, the simple act of looking like a woman was not an addiction for me. It was a deep issue which sooner or later in my life I would have to face.

At that time, my progress was slow but steady as I made a far-ranging group of acquaintances in the gender community I was visiting. On one side, I was dealing with Ed, a part-time closeted cross dresser who had a crush on Michelle. A beautiful transsexual woman we both knew. I was stuck in the middle of that strange relationship. Trying my best to be understanding. All I knew was, the interactions I was having were not helping me with my issues which once again I was internalizing. The same thing I perfected in my male life which was so bad for me. I finally came to the point where I realized I needed to be my own person as a transfeminine person. I knew for sure; I had the dream of someday living fulltime as a woman. I just had no idea of how I was going to get there. I set out to discover answers to the many questions I had.

Such as, I knew I was not a cross dresser or transsexual. I was transgender looking for my path. Was I gay? What was my sexuality going to be under the gender affirming hormones I was seriously considering taking. It took me many years of searching before I finally received some long-awaited answers. And would I ever have the courage to face who I really was.

I was fortunate as I always mention that a small group of lesbians took me in and pushed me along my transition path. My sexuality did not have to change and that was one big question out of the way. My validation came from other women, not men and that was a fact.

Once I fully escaped my gender closet, I could look around with confidence and know my new transgender life was not built on addiction that I tried to solve, but on the facts, I refused to accept. I was never meant to be a man, and I was living a lie. The problem was I became good at the lie, and it was difficult to give up. Finally, I did learn through all my searching what the difference was between addiction and lie. Not a fact.

 

 

 

 

I Almost Waited too Long to Transition

 

Image from Lizgrin F 
on UnSplash.

I almost went too far when it came to not deciding to transition from male to female in my life.

During the previous half century of cross-dressing my life away in the mirror, I put off making my final decision so many times. One of the main problems was, I was sixty years old and was forced to consider my mortality, which I had always taken for granted. Plus, another issue I had was feeling just a little too comfortable with all the male privilege I had struggled to build up in my life. Often it seemed, destiny had stepped into my life to guide it a certain way because I was very self-destructive and selfish. So much so that my mom always said I had a guardian angel riding with me when I did stupid things behind the wheel. All along, of course, I was trying to hide the pain of hiding who I truly was.

On the other hand, I was basically an impulsive person who felt all rules were temporary and could be worked around. Such as my time in the Army when I was able to land a job with the American Forces Radio and Television Service (AFRTS), which was nearly impossible to do. In the meantime, I was facing the biggest struggle of my life as I needed to figure out what I was going to do about my gender issues. It was always the elephant in the corner of every room I was in.

What I decided to do was research as much as I could my dream goal of living a life as a transgender woman. When I did, my very real struggles began. Early on, nothing came easy on my gender path. I was being laughed at when I went out in public as a novice until I got it right. As I fortunately exited that portion of my life, I was able to see more clearly what I was up against, and it was daunting. I had very little idea of the layered lives ciswomen lead as compared to men. When I realized what I was up against, I needed to set my transition timetable back. And to make matters worse, my male self was becoming increasingly successful in his life. Building up a solid base of marriage, family, friends and job. How could I ever replace all of that and when could I do it.

The only recourse I had at the time was the worst one I could consider. Internalize my deepest gender thoughts and keep trying to attempt to do the best I could to survive a life caught between the two main primary genders. Three days as a trans woman and three days as a man was killing me and I tried to no avail to take the extra day off to relax. It turned out I could not because all I thought of on my supposed day off was what I was going to do the next time I went exploring the world as a transfeminine person. Which brings up a good point, during this time of my life, any thoughts I had that I was just a cross dresser were slipping away. Only to be replaced by the fact that I refused to accept. I was more a woman of my own making than I ever thought.

One way or another it was in my fifties when I began seriously researching the word transgender and what it meant to me. I was happy when I finally found the terminology which applied to me but again what was I going to do about it. I was not getting any younger. I still made the worst of all possible choices and continued my path of least resistance. At least that is how it appeared to the outside world which I was effectively hiding my efforts of femininizing from them. I had won my award as a strong male role model with a good marriage, family and job, and now I wanted to give it all back for a radical gender change into womanhood.

When my sixtieth birthday rolled around, I finally decided I needed to make a major change before it was too late. I went to a doctor and took the steps to be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT and the real changes started. As good as I felt though, I could not shake the sorrow I had from moving permanently away from my male life. Even after my mental health improved.

Finally, I realized I had waited too long for the change and should have had the courage to do it long before I did. But at least I managed to make the major gender change I did before it was too late. And what about my elephant who was my constant companion? I set it free.