Damn it is Complicated

 

Image from Amanda Dalbjorn
on UnSplash

Crossing the gender border is never easy for the average human being. 

To begin with, you need to be very serious concerning your gender passion. You need to trust your instincts, close your eyes and leap. I took over fifty years before I could come to the point of being able to trust myself. After all, I had spent all of the time as a very serious cross dresser exploring the world to see if I could survive as a transgender woman. Some times I was good about making plans, sometimes I was not. As I took the good with the bad. Ultimately, taking the good with the bad, just walking a path I knew very little about. 

As I walked my new path, there were several points of reference along the way. Such as the mixers I was attending in nearby Columbus, Ohio. Many were big and more than a couple were very small and intimate. Regardless I learned from both and how internally complicated they were. All layers under the so called transgender umbrella attended one or the other. Everyone from seasoned transsexuals to very novice cross dressers often out for the first time in their lives away from the mirror. Through it all, I was trying just to find my way to discovering who I really was. All I did finally learn was I did not fit the mold of a stereotypical transsexual or a weekend cross dresser. I was somewhere in between. I found I was not everyone's cup of tea, I enjoyed being my own. 

Examples were everywhere, including the guys who cross dressed for certain mixers but not for others all the way to the impossibly feminine transgender women who made their appearance. I was drawn to the feminized crowd but often I was left out because of my looks. I had a long way to go with my appearance but I was trying hard. With the help of a professional makeup artist provided by the group one night, I learned the intricacies of applying makeup and could really help me because he explained everything to me. Thanks to his magic, I was able to move up in the eyes of the transgender or transsexual crowd. Even still, mainly because they shunned most of the rest of the average cross dressers, I stayed to myself. Except when the trans women went out to other gay venues after the regular mixers were over. When I did so, I was exposed to a whole new world of exposure in the world in my own transgender universe. 

As I did, my life became increasingly complicated. I needed to overcome inner clashes with my genders as well as trying to deal with the problems of dealing with my second wife who was against any idea I was transgender. The major problem, every bit of my self was telling me being feminine was the only way I could survive. All of my turmoil just led to more stress to my already fragile mental health. I ended up in therapy again, which did some good but were for the most part wasted because I refused to face the truth about myself. My authentic self was feminine and I needed to express it. The only thing therapy did was make my wife think somehow it was going to magically "cure" me or at the least, I was trying to help the situation. Which at the time was growing into a major problem between us.

When I first looked into the mirror as a kid so many years ago, little did I know how complicated my life would become as I grew into my gender issues. My gender path was so convoluted as I followed it, I often became lost. The only aspect which kept me going was the deep down knowledge I had been born to be a girl. Dealing with it was always the issue.

Gender Expectations

Image from the JJ Hart
Archives

As I progressed through my gender transformation, I had so many expectations.

All I really wanted to be when I grew up was a woman but I had no idea of how I was going to achieve my dream. Unlike most of the major professions available to me, there were no schools I could apply to to be femininized. I just wanted to find my passion and follow it. 

To do it, I finally had to be free of the mirror and join the world. Even when I discovered that, I had to often snatch defeat away from the jaws of victory. Or I was defeating myself by going exactly the wrong way with my women's fashion, hair and makeup. At the rate I was going back then, there was no way I was ever going to exceed, or even make it, to my gender expectations.

Another problem I encountered was the complexity of the new life I was trying my hardest to live. Every time I turned one corner it seemed I had another blocking my way. I began to see life as a series of walls I needed to climb. For example, if I couldn't learn to communicate with the world, how could I ever hope to bring my dreams to life. Many times as I journeyed out into the world, I was flying blind not knowing what to expect. The whole process was at once scary yet exciting. It took me many evenings out on my own to establish myself in venues I wanted to be secure in. At the time, I was doing my best to separate myself from the gay bars I was going to where I did not enjoy being treated as a drag queen. 

It was very difficult at first to be accepted as a single transgender woman in the sports bars I was going to. Often I resorted to using my cell-phone as a prop to fend off anyone who thought I was going to be alone for any length of time. It was during this time when I started to meet a trans woman friend of mine and socialize in many venues I was fearful of going into by myself.  There seemed to be an extra amount of security when I was with a friend. When we were together my gender expectations were satisfied because I was allowed to relax and be more social in the world.

From there I transitioned into having my lesbian friends and had a chance to really blossom. All of a sudden, I did not need a man to validate my existence as a woman and they helped me climb another big wall towards achieving my dream. My experiences at lesbian mixers, roller derby matches and even professional football games helped me to come out of my gender shell fast. By doing so, I needed to free my long dormant feminine inner being so she could help me to become a new person. She gladly did so and took off tons of pressure from my gender expectations. If I did not know what to expect, she did and took charge and maybe most importantly gave me the chance to build a quality trans person. I had the rare second chance in life to learn from my mistakes as a cross dresser and a man.

I finally ran the string out and had seen all I needed to see as a transgender woman and couldn't wait for the gender affirming hormones or HRT I was approved to take to take further charge of my body. All my expectations had been exceeded and there was no way I could have dreamed of coming this far in life the first time I slid into hose and a bra when I was a kid. 

I don't completely know why I made it but I sure am happy I did. Along the way, my gender expectations were often confusing to me and impossible to explain to others. Even though internalizing my feelings was brutal, good therapy helped my mental health. Even more so if I had listened to my gender therapist years ago who told me there was nothing either of us could do about my desire to be a woman. Of course I was stubborn and did not listen. If I had, my gender expectations may have really changed for the better much earlier in life.

Transgender Truth

Image from Ava Sol
on UnSplash

Often as a transgender woman or trans man, we have a hard time find finding out our personal truths. 

Our truths can be hidden behind a maze of society issues which we have to work our way through. In other words, is what we are thinking a real truth or something acting like one. Did I really want to be a girl or just temporally look like one? I struggled to figure it all out. 

Worse yet, was the fact I needed to hide my emerging truth from the world. How was I ever going to discover if my gender life as a guy was indeed a lie unless I was able to take on the world as my own sense of femininity. Was it all an act or was it real, who knew? Little did I know, I was embarking on a lifetime trip to determine how true my gender issues were. As I went along, hiding became less and less of an alternative because I was finding out how natural I felt when I was playing in the girl's sandbox. All the bastions of sacred femininity were suddenly opening to me in the forms of being invited to girl's night's out and earning my way into having women's rest room privileges. 

When I did, the pressure started to mount to live my life more and more as a transgender woman. Every time I had to interact with the world as a man, I felt as if I was somehow an impostor and I was just going through the motions. Plus, my obligations to spouse, family, friends and work started to weigh heavily on my mental health. I did my best to enlist the aid of a qualified gender therapist to help me. There were very few of the therapists in those days who knew anything at all about gender issues, so mine was hard to find. Looking back, I think I saw her advertisement in an issue of "Transvestia" Magazine. When she saw me after a couple of appointments, she told me her truth which I did not listen to. She said, there was nothing she could do with me wanting to be a woman and somehow I would have to learn to live with it or accept it. Like I said, I ignored her advice and continued to ignore my basic truth.

Speaking of truth, currently, I am writing a book gift which was given to me on Mother's Day this year by my daughter. It is a year long project designed to answer questions from my family. The book will be given  to me after I am done and then passed on so others can understand my life and truths after I am gone. One of the questions from my trans grandchild is what has been the most ill-advised thing you (me) has ever done and I think ignoring my therapist's advice may have to be up around the top. Had I listened to her and told my second wife the truth, I would have saved myself so much turmoil over the years and I would have faced my truth. How bad could have it have been. I would have had to find other employment and new friends but rebuilding my life then could have been easier. 

I was stubborn and held on to my idea I ever was male for way too long and it cost me years of alcohol abuse and mental health problems. I was so fortunate I found and was accepted by women who I admired so much who embraced my idea of what an ideal woman would act like. Ironically, the evil TERF's were few and far between. I was allowed to flourish as I learned so much from the women around me who accepted me for what I was for the first time in my life. 

My truth was finally evident to me. I had never been meant to live a male existence and I just wish I had faced my transgender truth earlier than the age of sixty. Sixty is when I gave in and gave up any hope of ever living as a male again. In addition, I am so proud of my college aged transgender grand child for coming out so early in her life. Hopefully, my existence helped hers.

Doing What is Right

 

My wife Liz on left. Mother's Day this year.

During several high profile jobs I worked at, doing what was right was drilled into me by my superiors.

Even though it took me many years to finally realize I needed to do it, I came out of my gender closet and started a new life as a transgender woman. As I write about often, I am haunted on how much better my life would have been if I had come out earlier and did the right thing.

I should have known and if I had listened to my instincts, I would have done it. As it was, everytime I cross dressed as a woman I felt so natural and something was trying to tell me something big was wrong. It is no wonder, I struggled with my mental health and had anger issues when now I take all I was going through into consideration. Sadly, the person who bore the brunt of my frustrations was my second wife. Mainly because we had made a deal I could cross dress as much as I wanted as long as I kept it away from our home. I was even allowed to spend the money to go to a motel to get ready for a trip on the town if I wanted to. As it worked out, even that was not enough to satisfy my gender desires. Essentially what happened was I became better and better at my presentation skills and when I did, I enjoyed myself more and more.

As it turned out, we were similar to runaway trains on the same track. I was headed towards gender affirming hormones (HRT) and she was completely against them. Saying hormones broke the agreement we set up when we married. She was right and I ended up between the rock and a hard place before she passed away. Once again it seemed I was back to point zero again in my life but this time, I could not go back to cross dressing in front of the mirror. I was too far along towards my lifelong dream of living in a women's world to ever go back. Still, I had the problem of doing what was right and sticking with my promise to never leave the house as my transgender self. I became desperate and began to break that promise regularly which inwardly I was ashamed of.

Overall, my guy self still had enough influence to try to stop my slide into womanhood by putting up the same old barriers. Barriers such as internalizing all my feelings and trying to ignore my mounting mental health problems by drinking way too much until I could take it no longer and I went out to pursue my other new life as a trans woman. Then tried to be home before my wife and hide the whole evening from her. In the short and long term, my plan never worked because in part it was so difficult for me to remove the makeup I so painstakingly applied. I think now, most of the time she knew when I was out sneaking around and just made the decision not to press the issue.

Deep down, on my end, I knew I needed to press the issue. When I was out living my best life as a transgender woman, I couldn't go back to a life as a guy I never asked for. Doing what was right just seemed to be the fair and natural thing  to do. 

Now, if my story ended there, it would have had a happy ending but it didn't. Approximately six months before she passed away, my wife and I had a massive fight about my part time life as a woman and I decided to make one last ill-fated attempt at quitting my feminine life and purging most of my belongings. After nearly six months into growing a beard and gaining an immense amount of weight, as I tried to quit doing what was right, my wife passed away after twenty five years of marriage. Leaving me on my own to finally do what was right.

I did and decided I was not getting any younger and had followed the proper "prep" work to allow my feminine soul to take control. She did and without indicating any "I told you so." She took over my life life with goodness and control. I will forever wonder what would have happened if I had let her take over sooner because she was clearly doing the right things with my life. 

Living in Your Own Prison

 

Image from Engin Akyurt
on UnSplash

When someone says living a life as a transgender woman or trans man is a choice I get a huge chuckle. 

I wish the people who think my life was a choice, needed to live a small time in my shoes and  then they could truly decide my life was never a choice. I was living in my gender prison. In many ways, I could describe my confines to a bigger version of what was called my personal closet. Either way, I was stuck in a very dark and isolated space where I was all alone. Especially in the pre-internet days when I was living.

When the internet came along with social media, I was able to locate a few others who were cross dressers or transgender women , which made life a little easier in my prison. My biggest problem then became hiding my new on-line contacts from my wife who was more tech savvy than I was. Let's just say I needed to learn the hard way when my wife found a discussion I was having with a person in nearby Indiana and I had to become much too comfortable with.

Looking back, I could call the few, brief times when I tried to purge my feminine wardrobe and be a full time man as being out of my prison on parole. The problem was deep down I knew what I was doing was wrong and the pressure would build to build a new feminine wardrobe and try again in front of the mirror. I could almost predict when I would go back to my gender prison. 

Yet another casualty of me serving time in my closet was one I always mention, my mental health. Since it was already fragile and I was going to therapy for help, I didn't need any extra problems to push me closer to the edge.  I was becoming a hot mess as I took more and more chances when I left the house as my novice transgender self and explored the world. The problem became, I was feeling more and more natural when I escaped my prison. Even still, the process was not easy and involved too much scary trial experiences when I first went out. 

The entire process became all I thought about and when I was in my my male mode I caught myself thinking too much of the next time I was going to be able to experience life as a transgender woman. Plus, at the least I was busy studying the mannerisms of all the cis-women around me. I was locked in to one thing only and it was being a woman myself. It was a good thing I had my therapist to talk out my exploding feelings about my gender. 

I guess the only frustrating part of trying to explain to the outside world what it means to be transgender is there was no choice. If I would have continued in my self destructive male ways, I would have killed myself and become yet another statistic. Fortunately, destiny had other ideas for me when I escaped my gender prison and started to live an authentic life as a trans woman. Similar to so many others in the transgender community I was a survivor and thrived when I was free to do so. 

Bad Gender Decisions

 

Image from unknown origin. 

I often wonder if during all the writings I do, as I  describe how I succeeded in living my dream as a transgender woman, do I emphasize the bad decisions I made. 

Needless to say, I made plenty of choices I wished I had back to try again. First of all, I suffered from the same problems nearly all novice cross dressers or transgender women go through. Unlike cis gender girls our age, we didn't have the peer pressure or knowledge to help us be girls or women. We were not invited to the sleepovers where the girls experimented with makeup and clothes and it showed. I equated the whole makeup process to painting model cars when I was growing up. It took lots of practice to get the basics right. In the meantime, as I learned, many times I made bad decisions and came out looking like a clown. This was especially true with the clothes I chose to try to wear. I tried way too long to force my male body into clothes designed for sexy teenaged girls and I paid the price when the mirror lied to me and I tried to go out in the public's eye. 

When I was laughed at in public, I knew my feminine life had to change for the better if I was ever going to be able to survive. I just could not keep coming home in tears after another night out making bad decisions. Certainly. the process was not improving my deepening gender dysphoria. In desperation I sought out help from one of the only known gender therapists in Ohio at the time which was a good decision. The bad decision came when I decided to not listen to what she told me. She told me there was nothing she or I could do concerning my deep seated desire to be a woman. I would have to learn to live with it. If I had not been so hard headed and stubborn, I would have taken her advice and prepared myself for a life as a transgender woman. 

Once I started to really explore the feminine world, I made plenty of bad decisions. The primary example was when I became comfortable in presenting in places such as clothing stores, book stores and malls, I would always challenge myself to do new activities as a trans woman. Activities where I had to face the public and communicate one on one with the world. By doing so, I knew sooner or later I was going to have to challenge myself and use the women's restroom. Nature was calling and I knew I needed to answer the call. 

I started the process innocently enough by using the women's room in one of the bookstores I went to on a regular basis. I would do my best to make sure the room was empty before I went in and took care of my business. I was fortunate in that I read about and knew quite a few basics women follow when they gather in the restroom. I also knew from my experience in the restaurant/bar business women were not always the pristine gender they are known to be but that is another story. As well the other basics I needed to learn such as looking other women in the eye, washing my hands and stopping to adjust my hair and makeup. 

For the most part the only bad decisions I ever made as far as rest room usage was concerned was which rest room venue I decided to use. On a typical night, I would plan to go to my regular venues  plus maybe try out a new place. By this time, I was becoming fairly secure in my presentation to the point I wanted to try to challenge myself. I decided to go to a borderline redneck venue, order a couple of beers and try to use the restroom before I left. Before I knew it, someone had called the police on me and I was told to leave. Which had to be the worst decision I ever made. From there I went back to my usual regular venues and everything was back to normal.

Normal for me was difficult to change. I was so use to pushing my boundaries as a novice transgender woman, I had a difficult time adjusting my life when I no longer had to push so hard. I was enjoying the fact I did not have to face making bad gender decisions to begin with.

Gender Euphoria

Image from Mohammed Nohassi 
on UnSplash.

During my circle of life which I am fortunate to still be living, there have been tines of intense gender euphoria. Those times seemed on occasion to correspond with  my severe bouts of gender dysphoria. 

Examples of euphoria came when I gathered the courage during a cross dresser-transvestite mixer I attended to have my makeup applied by a professional makeup person. He ended up working miracles on my face and I looked great (in my humble opinion) which was to be proven later that evening. What happened was I ended up tagging along with the "A" list cross dressers or transgender women in the group who always continued the party at an outside venue after the main mixer closed down. The first venue we went to was a large gay and lesbian dance club which I never really liked but I went anyhow. 

During the evening, the group broke up even further and we went to a much smaller venue which I couldn't tell was gay or not. All I knew was I enjoyed the music better and the place had pinball games I could entertain myself with. In a case of timing wasn't everything, about the time the remaining "A" listers wanted to call a cab and leave, I was approached by a handsome man who wanted to buy me a drink and play pinball. It turned out to be one of the pivotal moments of my cross dressing life when I politely declined his invitation and left. I was then forever caught wondering what would have happened if I would have stayed. Primarily I didn't because I would have been stuck in a strange city which I had very little knowledge of with a man I didn't know. On the positive side, I was the only one in the group who was approached by any other patron at all. In that moment my gender euphoria reached one of it's peaks. Perhaps the best part of the experience were the advanced makeup tricks I was able to understand and remember later. 

Of course there were other moments of intense euphoria such as the night I needed to show my male drivers license to be admitted to another transvestite mixer I went to. The greeters at the door thought I just had to be a cis-gender woman. Sadly, with every success I had with these cross dressing experiments, there were the downsides also. Mainly because of my ego which still in many ways was dictated by my old male self. For lack of a better example, every up comes with a down and when I crashed over a gender euphoric high, I was not an easy person to live with. To make matters worse, my crash was so bad, I couldn't keep my mind on anything other than the next time I could cross dress and go out as my feminine self. None of which my second wife approved of. Looking back, I don't see now how our twenty five year relationship survived. 

Regardless of these few and far between gender euphoric moments, I can safely say gender dysphoria ruled my life. Starting with the days when I was a kid wondering if I was a boy or a girl and continuing into and with daily combat with my mirror. Again and again I suffered the gender torment of seeing feminine in the mirror one moment and masculine the next. It was during my darkest moments when I found I could indeed lead a life as a transgender woman that got me by in life, barely. 

By the time I had reached my sixties and had started HRT, I knew I would never have wished my life's journey on anyone else. Going behind the gender curtain and learning life from both sides of the binary gender spectrum had certainly taken a toll on me. On the other hand, the experiences I went through taught me to be a better human being. 

Balancing gender euphoria with massive gender dysphoria in life can be a daunting task and one which should not be taken lightly as it can effect a person's overall mental health. Gender is one of the deepest emotional issues a human can have. It can never be taken for granted it seems with a transgender woman or trans man, unlike a large portion of the rest of the population. Which could be a topic for a future blog post.