My Gender Workbook

 

Trial and error were my main learning directions when I was initially following my gender path in public. As my workbook on how to be a girl or woman was never filled out at all, I had no other recourse in which way to go. I just didn’t know, which meant I never would unless I had the courage to learn myself.

Missing the peer pressure other girls my age had when they grew up really hurt and I was jealous in so many ways. I missed sleep overs and other times girls came together and discussed so many secret issues I was not allowed to know. Which included when they compared makeup routines when I was left to experiment all alone.

Survival as a novice cross dresser became my inner motto as I struggled ahead in my male life which presented its other set of challenges. Such as dealing with sports, cars and bullies. Having interests such as sports helped to keep the bullies away, especially in my male dominated family. If I was careful in staying in my closet, no one had any idea of who I really was as I was filling in my workbook. Many times, I was in despair because it seemed I was not gaining any ground towards my dream of living as a fulltime transgender woman. First, I needed to discover if I had any possibility of success to succeed at all. Which started the so-called bucket list of things I needed to do as I pursued my workbook.

The biggest problem never changed. I never had much help when dealing with the basics of femininized fashion, hair and makeup. It seemed to me, every woman I met expected me to already know the basics and it was like a “C
atch 22” of being a woman. If I did not know the basics on my own, no one was stepping up to help me and If I did know, I did not need it. Sort of like when you cannot land a much-needed job because of no experience and you cannot find any experience because no one will give you a chance.

Perhaps, I am more fortunate than other cross dressers of transgender women because quite early in my life, I persuaded a cisgender woman to help me dress up head to toe as a woman. I thought if a woman with a lifetime worth of experience could help me, I could fill out my workbook, with help. Ironically, after the makeup was over, I was not impressed and felt all the time that I was on the right path and could do the same feminine work on myself. Of course, I need to point out I had already put years of time and effort into refining my fashion and makeup techniques.

Just when I thought I had reached a success point in my gender transition, my teen cross-dresser years set in. The problem was, I was already a testosterone poisoned thirty something man seeking change. My transition out of my teens was painful and not easy to do but I finally made it out after many tears from public abuse. On the other hand, my gender workbook gained another chapter I gladly filled out.

On another slightly different topic, I heard from “Michelle” who is working on her own gender workbook and was commenting on my “Seismic Gender” on the lesbian culture and transgender women: “I really love how you described finding your place along that femme spectrum. It makes me think about how much of this journey is trial and error—figuring out what to wear, where to go, how to be in these spaces without losing yourself. And yeah, sometimes it really does feel like the universe nudges the right people into our lives at the exact moment we need them.

Honestly? Reading this gives me hope that I’ll find my own version of that someday.”

Thanks for the comment! If it helps, at that point I had given up on ever finding another special person for the rest of my life, and the most amazing thing happened. I did find my wife Liz, or I should say she found me. It happened primarily because I gathered the courage to repeatedly put myself out in the public’s eye.

Just be careful when you do it and take your time to properly fill out your workbook and you can be successful on such a major undertaking as living as your authentic self.

 

 

 

Seismic Gender Shits...from Gay Bars to Sports Bars

 

My Trans Friend Racquel and Friend.

In many ways, this is only a continuation of yesterday’s post about seismic gender shifts. This time though, I am going to focus on my foray into leaving gay bars behind and beginning to go to several of the major sports bars in the area where I live.

As I see it now, going to lesbian bars was more of a learning experience but being accepted in sports bars was a dream come true. As far as the sports bars were concerned, I can break them down into two types. The smaller more diverse ones such as TGIF Fridays (which catered to single women) and the larger ones which catered to more of a beer drinking, wing consuming male crowd. I knew quite a bit about both from my male days being out and about with my drinking buddies. Not to mention, I had managed a major competitor to Fridays in the area. I only knew the number of times I was jealous of women who took advantage of going to both venues.

It was not until I seriously began to consider going to a sports venue where I enjoyed the cold beer and sports on the big screen televisions, did I begin to look around and see many other cisgender women mixed in with the rest of the patrons. I began to think, if they could do it, why could not I?

Before I even considered my adventure, I needed to insure my femininized presentation was up to the challenge of being in an atmosphere where I would be one of the very few transgender women (or cross dressers) in the venue. All in all, the process took every bit of courage I could summon and still was very scary. Even though I was scared, I pushed forward to see if I could achieve my dream. From my business experience, I knew if I could make it to the bar without being noticed, most of my risk would be averted. Bartenders are greedy creatures and are primarily focused on service and tips which would not be a problem for me.

My biggest problem was acting as if I was not a single woman in the bar area. One of my tricks was to always use my cell phone as a prop to act like I was expecting company. For the most part I think it worked until I began to meet another transgender woman for drinks and there was strength in numbers. I was fortunate too; in that I was slightly ahead of the curve of cisgender women enjoying sports as much as men. When my lesbian friends and I were together enjoying the games, no one cared, and we fit in.

Through it all, there were only a few occasions when I was called out and embarrassed. One of which occurred when I was in a red neck leaning sports bar and had the local police called on me for using the women’s room. After a brief discussion with a female cop, I was sent on my way to a venue up the road where I knew I had rest room privileges.

Probably the most glaring and potentially problematic time I had was one night at a smaller sports bar I had gone to often with no problems. That night, my transgender friend Racquel and I were sitting at the bar minding our own business when suddenly, “Dude Looks Like a Lady” by Arrowsmith comes on the juke box. Not once, not twice but four times in a row, and to make matters worse, the new manager came up to us and said it was time to go. So, we did and went up the street to a bigger venue where we knew we would be welcome. Never to come back, or so we thought.

Several weeks later, one of the bartenders from the venue we were kicked out of found me and apologized. She went on to say, the manager who had banned me had been fired for drug abuse and I was invited back. I happily went back and never had another problem except a bathroom experience which I will save for another blog post.

More than likely, all the success I had in establishing myself in sports bar venues had to do with knowing the people on the other side of the bar were there for the money as much as the store clothing clerks I used to see in my old shopping days in malls when all they cared about was my attitude and the color of my money. On the other hand, the people in the gay bars treated me much worse and often I had to wait for service altogether.

At the end of the day (or several) my transition into the big sports bars was much easier than I ever thought it would be.

Seismic Gender Shifts

Image from AC on UnSplash.

I received a response from a reader seeking more input on how I was able to integrate myself into the lesbian and sports bar cultures.

First, thanks for the question as it is a complex one to try to answer. It turned out, the lesbian culture was the most difficult to be accepted into.  I began my journey in Dayton, Ohio around the year 2005 while my second wife was still alive. Back in those days, there were still lesbian bars in business for me to go to. It is important to note, one of them was essentially a lesbian biker bar and they hated me. Especially when I played “Shania Twain’s” I Feel Like a Woman in the bar. Even still, they barely put up with me until I found a better venue to go to.

It turned out, relatively close along the road was another small lesbian bar which had just opened, so I tried it out. Imagine my surprise when the first bartender I saw, knew me as my male self also. She saw through my femininized appearance, and I was treated very warmly, which helped me gain acceptance from the other patrons. I was able to relax and look around at the dynamics around me.

What I immediately noticed was where I fit in the layered levels of women in the bar. There was everything from very masculine butch lesbians, all the way to their femme girlfriends who came with them. I learned very quickly, with my jeans, boots and makeup, I fit right in with the femme lesbians, even to the point of attracting attention of a few of the butches. Who, on occasion, bought me beers and flirted with me. In fact, my first dinner date was with a super butch who went on to become a full-fledged transgender man. Keep in mind also, back in those days, I was much younger and could present much easier in public once I learned the basics. Such as, what I was going to wear when I went to a lesbian bar. There would be no dresses or skirts for the evening.

It is also important to note, my next foray into the lesbian culture was pure luck or destiny if you don’t believe in luck. This is where my sports bar experience comes in. Keep in mind, I had managed sports bars for a living in my past and had a basic knowledge of how I would go about becoming a regular. Again, I needed to dress to blend, stay friendly, smile and tip well. My plan worked well and soon I did become a regular at several venues where I had gone to as a man and always wondered if I could repeat my visit as a transgender woman.

On one night, one of the bartenders asked me if I would be interested in meeting her single lesbian mother and I said yes. We ended up getting along well and even ended up adding another lesbian woman by complete chance who I ended up partying with for years until I met Liz and moved to Cincinnati. As destiny would have it, Liz identified as a lesbian also, so my circle was complete. I was basically protected from the world until I could learn many of the nuances of being a transgender woman. Such as, I did not need a man to justify my existence.

I guess you could say, my seismic gender shifts just came along when I needed it, or when I was questioning my sexuality. I had always gotten along with women easier than men and their interest in me sealed my future in the world. I enjoyed immensely going to lesbian mixers and being flirted with on occasion. I always thought it was because I was hitting some level of middle gender with some women who were not intimidated by a woman who used to be a man. They were intrigued and even impressed by my honesty in how I approached my life.

Sadly today, around here at least, there are very few pure lesbian bars left to learn in, and the younger generation seems to be more accepting of the transgender world. Which is what is scaring all the politicians, shoving unjust laws down our throat. However, I don’t want to get too far off the subject and just say my acceptance into a totally new culture as a transgender lesbian came at a cost. But a good one and I had friends.  

Trans Girl at a Drag Show

 

Rubi Girls, Dayton Ohio.

Very early on when I started to explore the public, once again I felt as if I did not fit in. Specifically, when I went to gay venues, especially the venues with drag shows. 

Although I knew many of the other patrons viewed me as just another drag queen, I knew I was much different. For the most part most of the queens I had met were gay men doing their best to perform on stage as women. There were very few transgender women on stage I could identify with. Even so, the local shows were places I could go to be safely entertained. Even still, I became bored with the same old, same old and began to seek out other venues I could go to. That is when I began to go to the well documented shifts to sports bars I had frequented as a man. 

Drag shows unexpectedly became a part of my life again when I began to develop friendships with other cisgender women. Going to shows became the cool thing to do and since I was the link to the performances in their minds, I just had to come along for the girls' nights outs. Which I loved. Most of the women I went out with in the small group just assumed I had more connection with the entertainment that I did. But who was I to say they were wrong, and I went along for the ride. 

It was not until much later when I finally was able to make the differentiation to all my women friends, how much different I was than the drag queens we were watching. The first big show I attended after coming out was when I was invited to go with my daughter and all her women friends when they all were invited to go to a drag troupe called the "Rubi Girls" in Dayton, Ohio. The group of performers is very famous in the region and has even raised millions of dollars to benefit AIDS research.

Effectively, it was my first girls' night out with my daughter and I did not want to let her down. I was scared and prepped overly well for the evening, as I knew I had to blend in with what my daughter's friends were wearing. Since I was just coming out as a transgender woman, my daughter decided only a select few of the attendees would even know I was her parental unit. Once my fear went away, I was able to talk to a few of the other women around me and immensely enjoyed the show. The whole evening proved to be one of the best drag experiences I had until my first date with my future wife Liz. 

This time, the group of women I went with was much smaller, as was the venue which was approximately halfway between Cincinnati and Dayton, Ohio. It meant the drive was easier for both of us since we had not moved in together yet. Again, I was careful not to overdress the other cisgender women in the group and attempted not to be so scared. Afterall, it was just another drag show in a gay venue. Everyone seemed to have a good time, including me when I put away my bias against drag performers and was just being me. All the women around me realized I was much different than the talent we were watching. I was closer to them than the drag women who were gay men. 

Overall, the date with Liz was very successful. So much so, our next date was a non-drag event when we went to the regional Renaissance Festival with her son and again had a great time, so we further solidified our relationship more and more. 

When I look back, I owe my contact to drag more than I give it credit for. At the least, going to drag shows even encouraged me to walk in heels with more confidence. Plus, all the credit for helping to start my public life with my daughter and future wife goes to drag and the confidence it gave me to know I was secure in my transgender womanhood and not in some never/never land which was my knowledge of a world I never really understood. Or felt a part of. I guess you could say, being a trans girl at a drag show still worked out for me. 

What an Adventure!

Image from Phillip Rawstron
on UnSplash

 Admittedly, at the age of seventy-five, I spend a lot of time looking back at my life, attempting to look at all the successes and failures that I went through.

The end result is normally wow! Did I do all of that? I remember the adventures I went through when I first left the house in my short skirt with freshly shaven legs and felt the cool night air on my body. At the time, I felt as if there was no other feeling like it and I could not wait until I could do it again. Then, there were all of the Halloween parties I went to cross dressed as a woman from head to toe. The parties were exciting to say the least but also showed me I could possibly make it in the public's eye as a transgender woman in the near future. It is important to note, I went through the stages of trying to dress sexy as a woman to trying to encourage the others at the party I really was feminine. 

When I started to try to enter the world regularly, I found I had many adventures ahead as I went from being laughed at to my face to at least presenting well enough to blend in with the world at large. Out went the short miniskirts and in came the jeans and tops which other women were wearing on a regular basis to the venues I was going to. At the time, it was less fun for me but at the least, my new fashion choices were saving me the torment of coming home in tears. For the first time in my life, the public was not laughing at me for simply trying to be who I felt I should be. 

From there, the adventure really started for me as I made the second big transition in my life. From part time cross dresser to fulltime transgender woman, if only in my mind. The entire idea was huge in that it took me back to the earliest days of admiring my girl-self in the mirror, and thinking that was good, but there was still something missing. The missing part became evident over the years; I wanted to be the girl I saw in the mirror. Little did I know at that time; my gender path would be a long and intense process. Nearly fifty years to be exact before I was able to come to terms to who I really was as a person. 

Before I was able to build a small number of friends I saw on a regular basis, I was intensely lonely, and on many nights was just going out to be alone. Hoping no one would bother me. Fortunately, they did, and my life took an adventurous turn for the better.  I ended up being invited to lesbian mixers, the women's roller derby and even an NFL Monday Night football game. To say I was scared would be too easy a term. Excited would be another appropriate way to think about what I was going through. Where had all of this been all the time I was stuck in my closet? 

Another big adventure was evident when I discovered I had more than one gender closet to escape. There was the physical closet of fashion, makeup and presentation to overcome, and then the major hurdle of the intense mental closet I lived in. I experienced major problems with overcoming the life my male self-had built for me. He was intense and did not want to let go. By then, it was too late, and I was never going back. 

All my adventures proved to be worthwhile, and I succeeded in living my dream of transgender womanhood. Plus, for those of you who think you have waited too long to live your dream, I waited until I was sixty before I started. 

Not Ready for Public Consumption

Porsche Boxster.

 As I made my way into a feminine world for the first times, I was amazed how different it was.

My male self-had grown used to pretty much getting his own way. He was successful in the business world even to the point of buying a new Porsche sports car of his dreams, primarily through the substantial restaurant bonus checks I was earning. Little did anyone know, my female side wanted the new car as much as my male side. She wanted to be the blond in the fancy new car.

New car or not, I was not sure I was ready for public consumption as a transgender woman. After all, I was still new to the world and was afraid to being discovered and ridiculed. So, I continued on through the recesses of my mind, until I presented well enough to get by in the world. 

One of the first major moves I made was to leave the confines of gay bars behind except for the lesbian ones I enjoyed so much. As with anything else, there was a learning curve to be dealt with. I learned there was nothing much I liked about the gay bars who for the most part either shunned me or treated me as some sort of drag queen. Oddly enough, the venues I did learn I was ready for public consumption were the big sports bars I was used to going to as my old male self. It was as if I flipped the switch and was able to go and enjoy a beer and watch my favorite sports as a trans woman and not a man and I loved it. 

Very quickly, I began to also love the attention I was getting in the new venues. I fit in quickly because I was friendly, made no trouble and tipped well. Once the staff at the venue's I went to understood I was only there for a good time and not any nefarious reasons, I was embraced as who I was and all of a sudden, I was ready for public consumption. One thing I need to point out was, none of this came easy to me. I started out with very little in the way of feminine features and I was used to surviving in a male world the hard way. I needed to work hard to feminize myself. Before I began to have an idea of how to feminize myself, I needed to understand how to do it. I spent many long hours in front of my mirror trying my best to perfect my makeup and fashion before I even had the courage to leave the safety of my own house. 

Once I did summon the courage to go out in the world, I also needed to figure out exactly what I needed to accomplish.  Early on, I was just trying to see if I can make it in the world, then it became more refined. Fairly quickly, I went from a man just trying to look like a woman, to actually exist with cisgender women in the world as an equal. Needless to say, the entire idea frightened me completely. I was totally out of the only comfort zone I had ever known as I explored a new feminine world. The good news was freeing myself the toxic relationship I had maintained all those years as I gave my best effort to live as a man. 

The best part was my dream did not turn into a nightmare when I transitioned into the authentic life I always should have been living. When I was finally ready for public consumption, I was ready. 

Not an Act, not a Phase

JJ Hart Speaking Up at a Trans Wellness
Conference.

Very early on in my crossdressing experiences with the mirror, the vast majority of feminine fashion and makeup I could find came from my mom. As I grew of course, I was guilty of stretching her clothes and ruining some of her makeup.

For some reason, she never brought up my passion for being feminine. Plus, she never found my secret hiding places for my clothes. I think now, rather than confront me about a problem so intense, she chose to ignore it, thinking it was a phase and would go away as I grew up. If the truth be known, there were times when I wished my gender issues were a phase too. Those were the times when I "purged" or threw away my feminine clothes and makeup, swearing never to cross dress again. Of course, every time I purged, the pressure would build again, and I would start all over again to femininize myself. Over the years, I came to learn my connection with the feminine gender was anything else but a phase. It ran much deeper in me. Ignorance was bliss until I began to face the reality of who I was. 

It certainly was not a phase in my life which made my cross dressing anything but an act also. My experiences helped to reinforce the fact I was not trying to fool anyone when I first entered the world as who I labeled as a novice transgender woman. 

So, if I was not in a phase, or just acting like a woman to fool the public, who was I? I was in a personal struggle to search for any idea I could latch on to until I finally had to face the reality of my transgender womanhood. Yes, I went through all the questions of just being in a gender phase, all the way to thinking I was just trying to fool the world when I attempted to present myself as an attractive woman. 

Once I did come to the point where I truly accepted myself as who I really was, the entire process helped me to establish myself in the world and make new friends. My worst fears of being viewed as just a man who put on a dress and makeup as a part time basis were never realized. On the other hand, I played upon the fact I was different from the rest of the public as a transgender woman. If I was to be unforgettable, I most certainly needed to make sure I was making a positive impression. I spent much of my time listening to other women. Trying to pick up the smallest nuances of a ciswoman's life and how I could apply it to myself. 

As I advanced along my long gender path, I needed every small boost I could get to get me by with several close calls in an unfavorable world. It took me years to understand my gender issues were anything, but a phase and I was not a glorified drag queen in the world. It just took me more time to prove it to others. Basically, because I was scared of the knowledge of who I really was and feel secure in my transgender womanhood.

The End Result?

 

Picnic time with my wife Liz on the right with
JJ Hart. 

Even though I write often about reaching my dreams of living as a transgender woman, sometimes I wonder if I had made it at all.

One of the problems I faced was thinking once I made it to my goal, there was always something else which was challenging me on my gender journey. When I was younger and so naive, I labored under the impression, looking like a woman should be my main goal. After I made it to the point where I could successfully blend in with the other women around me, I found there was so much more to do. I grew impatient with mediocrity and continually looked for more. There had to be so much more for me to discover around the next corner of my life. My prime example always was when going to the malls and clothing stores became too easy for me to do, I sought out other more difficult releases for my transgender challenges. I began to stop at restaurants to order lunch which forced me to interact one on one with employees. It all taught me the basics of communication with the public. 

I say the basics, because communication became the longest and most important part of transition which led to the end result of living my dream. How could I ever hope to live a fulfilling life as a transgender woman if I could not even talk to anyone else. I was also paranoid about anyone wanting to talk to me at all when I was out and about. First of all, I needed to relax and quit putting words in the mouth of the people I met and sit back and listen carefully what they were trying to say. For the first time in my life. The end result was I began to be able to interact with the over-whelming majority of the cisgender women who were curious about me. On the other hand, the majority of men I met wanted little to nothing to do with me, and vice versa. 

Once I arrived at a point when this transgender woman thought she had it all, something else would come along and proved me wrong. I learned the hard way; I needed to be careful where I went on my own as a woman in the world when my male security privilege was taken away. Navigation in a new world proved to be difficult for me. My theory of going out to be alone was at times dangerous as I actively sought out someone to be with. Overall, I was intensely lonely as a man and as a transgender woman. A complex difficulty to be sure in my life dealing with two genders. Primarily, I needed to choose what stayed and what went in my life. All I knew was, I was receiving more positive attention when I was out as a single transgender woman than when I was out as a single man. So, my choice became increasingly easier. 

The end result was, I made it to my goal of living as a fulltime transgender woman, I thought. Even though I was living my dream I never thought was possible, I found I had several other issues to conquer. All of a sudden, with all my male clothes gone and, in my past, I had to plan on what I was going to wear daily in the world. A big difference from the old days when I could look ahead a couple of days to my fashion choices. After several false starts, I made it to the world I always dreamed of, and none of it let me down.  Happiness was always fleeting in my life, but I finally found a slice of it. At times it was quite the adventure as I made my way from cross dresser to transgender woman. 

Even though my adventure had its ups and down to be sure but looking back there were more ups than downs as I made my way (or I should say, learned my way) to my ultimate end result.

The Forgotten Woman

Image from UnSplash.

 Over the years of gender infighting, I needed to carefully sustain my transgender womanhood because she often was the forgotten person.

To begin with, she began life as a second-class citizen in my world when I was born as a male in a male dominated family. Essentially, she had two walls to climb immediately to survive at all.   First of all, she did not have any on hands guidance from mom or girlfriends to show her the way through life and secondly, my male self was successful at all in the world, she was completely forgotten. The fragile complement between my genders had to be maintained at all times or she would disappear. Many times, I asked myself why I wanted her along to begin with, but the answer kept coming back, I needed her.

I discovered the hard way, the occasional trip to the hallway mirror dressed as a girl with full makeup, just was not going to cut it. I just needed more. If I could manage to look like a girl, why couldn't I be a girl, if only in my mind. The problem became, when I had to return to my male reality, I needed to forget my girl self altogether. Many days, it seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. when the only true punishment came at the expense of my already frail mental health. All too often, depression would set in when I forgot my feminine self and could not least appease her by cross dressing in the mirror. 

Another problem was, the more I appeased my forgotten woman, the more my male self-hated it. He fought hard when any portion of his life was threatened. He tried his best to make it easier in life by gaining white male privileges which were difficult to give up. I became successful as a male, but try as I might, I could not forget my inner woman. Who, at the time, was learning more and more how to establish herself in the world. Many times, my male self would win the battles in our life when along he was losing the war. A typical female move he was too blind to see as he blustered along in life. 

When my forgotten woman became less forgotten and more accomplished, my male self-started to panic as he could see the end in sight. Without being a winner. Basically, he teamed up with my second wife to attempt to save what they could of my life. At that point, decisions needed to be made in the worst way. My so-called forgotten woman had learned she could indeed live a life on her own terms. The ability to stand on her own two feet after all those years in a closet was so liberating, she knew she could never go back and, on the other hand, my guy knew deep down he was defeated. 

Living a transgender life she had always dreamed of was suddenly all that mattered. She dictated I start gender affirming hormones to feminize my body outside and inside and that was just the start to being accepted in the world. At that point my forgotten woman was not forgotten anymore, and she got her just due for all the years she waited for control. She loved every bit of it.

Transgender Adjustments

 

Image from Markus Winkler
on UnSplash.

No matter how you cut it, life is nothing if not a series of adjustments.

As we enter school and learn to adjust to the other kids around us, we discover the basic differences which go far past the genders. As far as boys go, we learn some are toxic, some are athletic, and others perceive themselves as leaders at an early age. I went to a very small rural school and basically went to class with the same students from kindergarten through the ninth grade. Plenty of time to form cliques such as who were the brains, the hell raisers, the athletes and yes, even the losers. 

The one clique which I never had the chance to join was the one with gender issues, or the boys who wanted to be with the girls. I was very sure I was the only one with such issues, so I needed to make whatever adjustments I needed to make on the down low. No other person could ever learn of the adjustments I truly wanted to make but could not. 

As I made it through my early school years, the complexity of my adjustments to gender increased. I remember going to a high school festival where I saw a male student in drag for the first time in my life and was fascinated. If he could do it, why couldn't I? It was around this time of my life also when I heard the rumors of one of my fellow students who had attended a Halloween party dressed as a girl and was prettier than his sister. All of it gave me a brief glimmer of hope for my future. Perhaps there were other males who wanted to be girls also. Sadly, it was just two instances of learning of an outside world of gender adjustments before "Virginia Prince" and her "Transvestia" Magazine came into my world.

"Transvestia" rocked my world with its articles and pictures of cross dressers or transvestites everywhere. Seemingly, the only acceptance requirement you needed to have been, was to be heterosexual which was no problem for me. Of more importance was the fact the side organization call "Tri-Ess" I believe, held monthly mixers in Ohio within driving distance of where I lived. All I needed to do was fill out an application and be approved to meet others with similar gender adjustments for the first time in my life. 

As I discovered, when I first began to attend the transvestite-cross dresser mixers, how much more adjusting I would need to do. I met so many others of differing backgrounds from basic admirers to ultra feminine transsexuals, my life was changed forever. Sadly, I had plenty of time between mixers to figure out how I was going to adjust to the new world I found myself in. The only realization I came up with was, there were very few at the mixer who were close to me in my desires and adjustments I wanted to make. Plus, I had a spouse to attempt to explain it all to. 

Sometimes, I am not as naive as I let on, and I knew all the action behind closed hotel room doors was not heterosexual in nature but beyond that, nothing I saw really surprised me. Like I said, I came away from the mixers knowing I had many more adjustments in my gender journey which in reality was only beginning. Little did I know, life would take me in so many different directions before I could settle into my transgender womanhood. I would have a daughter to raise, marriages to negotiate and jobs to take on in my life. 

In many ways, I am no different than the rest of the world except I have gender issues to contend with. I don't expect any special treatment but then again, I don't need to be discriminated against either. I was only doing what came natural to me by trying to survive in the only world I knew. 

Just Being You

 

Paula from the UK.

In response to yesterday's post "In the Passing Lane". Paula wrote in and commented:

"I have often heard it said that the best accessory for passing is confidence. For me these days it is not so much a matter of confidence as familiarity, I rarely make an effort I am just being me.
I have a friend who uses the phrase "When the World experienced me as a man" while I like that it has emphasized to me that not only is the World now experiencing me as a woman, but that I am experiencing the World as a woman!"

First of all, thanks for the comment. It sounds as if you have reached the point in your transition where confidence is not such a huge factor but was early on in our lives.  I am similar to you in that I have reached the familiarity stage, and I am just being me. The point I always try to get across when I write is how long it took me to arrive at where I am at and how I got there. 

As I consistently write, gender dysphoria played a major part in my life, and I was very insecure on how I was appearing in the public as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman.  It took me years of effort to discover who the true me really was. So, I could go forward in the world and seek out a stable transgender womanhood. As Paula said, the world was experiencing me as a man, and it had to stop before it destroyed me.

I think one of the problems we have as transgender women and trans men in the world todays politically charged climate against us is, for the great majority of people, gender is a given and not something to be questioned. I cannot ever remember a time when I did not question my gender on a regular basis. What a strange and wonderful experience that would have been, and I can only imagine the strides I could have made in my life if gender dysphoria was not a part of it. Finally, I arrived at the point I could take my male life no longer and needed to do whatever I could to experience the world as a woman.

But what exactly does that mean? Do cisgender women consciously think of themselves as women or is it a series experiences a female naturally goes through which takes her to womanhood. Plus, let us be clear, not every female makes it to where they can experience life as a woman. Again, the overwhelming majority of the population never has to go through any sort of questions about their gender. Even to the point of not being able to separate gender from sex. With all those big questions, it's no wonder the average person has no understanding of the transgender community. 

I am biased, but I think having the chance to experience life as a man, then a woman is difficult. But it makes for an enlightened life I never expected to have. Once I did arrive, I respected the process and never wanted to go back to my experiences as a man. Except to learn from the positives and the negatives which made me a better person. 

In the Passing Lane

JJ Hart.

Early on in my life as a very serious cross dresser before I came out as a transgender woman, I obsessed about my presentation as a woman. Or, in other words, was I "passing."

At first, I went overboard and tried to appease my male side and dress sexy. Naturally, I was a dismal failure with my choices and ended up attracting too much negative attention to myself. After too many disastrous evenings in the public's eye, I finally learned my lesson and began to blend in with the cisgender women around me.

The problem was, still trying my best to slip behind the gender curtain and survive as a transgender woman was very difficult. At the time, a transgender woman friend of mine said it best when she told me I passed out of sheer willpower. She was correct, and I knew I was never the most attractive woman in the room but none of that really mattered as I was beginning to live the life I always had dreamed of. If others somehow resented it, they would just have to get over it. 

Being the keen observer of women, I always was, I found out not all cisgender women passed in the classical sense either. The skillful ones worked around their physical appearance issues with fashion and makeup choices which flattered them. I figured if they could do it, so could I. Finally, my fashion and makeup became second nature to me. At that point, I was not passing out of willpower but more out of inner confidence in myself as a novice transgender woman exploring the world for the first time. Once I found myself in the passing lane, it became easier and easier to stay there.

Even though I had fewer and fewer accidents in my quest for transgender womanhood, I still suffered minor bruises along the way. Mainly from cisgender women who completely did not want me in their world and went out of their way to show me.  Many of the attacks I suffered from were passive aggressive in nature and they took me awhile to get used to, but I did. I developed the extra sense most women have for the world around them and went on with my life as a better person. Secure, I was doing the right thing in my life and did my best to stay in the passing lane. 

These days, I have the benefit of age on my side. The genders naturally blend with age, so with long hair and a little makeup, I can survive in the world. Also, I don't have the vanity about my feminine self I used to have. Plus, I am so fortunate to have my staunch ally and wife Liz by my side the overwhelming amount of the time. An example was the vacation we went to the Florida Keys on a tour bus. If you are not familiar, one way or another on a tour bus, you get to know others. On the trip, I knew I had it made in the passing lane when a couple of women asked if we were sisters. I immediately relaxed for the remainder of the trip.

Overall, since finding my way into the passing lane was a matter of sheer will power. I had always believed if you wanted something bad enough, you could achieve it. Deep down inside, I never had wanted anything more than to be a woman. To arrive at my dream, I needed to get into the passing lane and stay there. Using whatever feminine tricks, I could find and use.

As "Stana" from "Femulate" once said, make sure you properly signal before you get in the passing lane. Once you make it, you will love it.

Adjusting to Change

 

Image from
Rafella Mendes Diniz
on UnSplash.

I am biased, but I think adjusting to a lifestyle in a gender you were not born into is one of the biggest changes a human can make.

As many of you know, I took nearly a half a century to adjust to my gender changes. Looking back, some of the changes were a blur while others were so very slow. The reasons possibly were there were so many changes I made to arrive at the spot where I could take the big leap. For example, the night I went to an NFL Monday Night Football game with a lesbian friend of mine and her family. I was just coming out as a transgender woman and was scared to death but knew I needed to make the move and go with her. Needless to say, after the evening, my life changed forever.

The other night I mention often was when I went to see the Christmas lights at a local grist mill, by myself as a woman. I was not as nearly afraid as I was at the football game and ended up enjoying myself immensely. I felt secure in my fashion choices for the evening and was warm and cozy when I went up to one of the hot chocolate vendors for a warm drink with extra marsh mallows. Most importantly, I did not run into any major problems at either venue and my confidence skyrocketed. Maybe I could be secure in my transgender womanhood after all and live out my dream. 

By now, you may be thinking was that all it took to propel my confidence forward into a new life and leave the old male life behind. No, it was not. It is difficult to mention all the nights I spent out alone as a single lonely woman before I found friends to share my changed life with. Through it all, I needed to be so careful to separate my old male life with my new femininized one. Which meant to separate everything I was talking about to new people. Plus, I did not want to create a totally false past in my life and ignore everything I worked so hard to achieve. I found I could bring in the family I had and just change the perspective I was speaking from, and it worked. At the time, fortunately, I was busy closing out my old male life anyhow which had for the most part collapsed, so the time was right for a major change.

Surprisingly, change did come easier for me than I expected. My femininized life was a pleasure to adjust to. Since, I should have been living it all along. It was like my feminine inner soul was telling me she was right all along. If I just had the courage to make the gender change and stick with it. 

All the adjustments I needed to make in life to survive were worth it for me. Finally, at the age of sixty, I had seen enough of the small changes I was trying to make as a stopgap measure and I decided to rid myself of all my male clothes, start gender affirming hormones (HRT) and live the life I was always meant to live. 

How did I know I made the right change? Because, after I did it, I felt so relieved and natural. I let myself go to fall off my gender cliff and had a very soft landing. All those years which started out as just me in the mirror had come full circle and I was able to live my desired life. All because of the changes I went through.

A Complex Day

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Doing the Work

 

Image from UnSplash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finding Your Comfort Zone

 

Image from UnSplash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Medical Euphoria as a Trans Girl

 

JJ Hart at Club Diversity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Gender Bystander

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Primary Voting Day

 

JJ Hart Speaking out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All I Saw were Walls

Image from Cristina Hernandez 
on UnSplash.

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

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

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

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

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

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