I'm More Trans than You???

 

Image from Alexander Grey
on UnSplash

How can that be? It shouldn't be but it's one of the many dividing points we face in the transgender community.

Plus, with all which has happened recently in our country with bigoted politicians we all need to stick together now as never before.

We also have to consider just how many factors go into considering why anyone would consider such a preposterous thought. It used to be surgeries were one of the dividing points over someone was more transgender than another. Years ago, Connie and I coined the term (probably not original) "Trans Nazi" for those who thought since we had not undergone extensive gender realignment surgeries, somehow we were not allowed to claim the term transgender. 

These days I feel as if the pressure to conform to being more transgender than anyone else is more involved with how you live. In other words, if you claim to be trans and don't live it on a daily basis in the public's eye, are you no more than a dedicated cross dresser. Repeating what I said in yesterday's post, gender doesn't come from what is between the legs, it comes from what is between the ears. Even though for whatever reason, the trans person just can't live everyday as their chosen authentic gender. Along the way, perhaps we have lost the perspective of the common point of what is was which brought us altogether. In the beginning perhaps we felt a need to feel somehow superior to other cross dressers because of appearance. I know I faced a superiority complex from a group of transvestites I referred to as the "A Listers". Sadly their beautiful appearances didn't carry over into their personalities. Most of the "A's" acted similar to the mean cheerleader types in high school. A few I knew did take the extra move to pursue surgeries to supposedly enhance their femininity and the rest I simply lost track of. 

These days I am stuck in some sort of a middle point in the argument of being more transgender than the next person. On one hand, I could put myself up on some sort of a fragile pedestal. On the other, I could feel the rejection from others because even though I live full time as a woman, surrounded by those who only see me as such, on the other hand, for whatever reason I have never undergone any gender surgeries. I am sure more than a few could consider me as no more than a glorified cross dresser. Or, as one reader pointed out so rudely years ago...just another old man on hormones. I found the comment to be humorous and if the truth be known there are very few people who I care what they say anyhow.

As precarious a position most transgender women or men find themselves these days with anti LGBT legislation, there is no time for petty bickering concerning who or who is not better situated to represent our community and should not be so segmented. We need everyone from those deep in the closet to those who have undergone genital realignment surgeries to understand their paths contribute to an important path to guide others. 

Being more transgender than someone else, simply should not exist for the welfare and advancement of us all. 

Code Red Moment

Image from Alexander Grey
on UnSplash

I remember like is was yesterday the night years ago when my life changed forever.

It was the evening when I decided to journey out in the world as a transgender woman for the first time instead of just trying to get by as a cross dresser or transvestite. I knew I was playing with labels but the whole process was important to me. 

First, I was so terrified I would fail and be subjected to more of the public ridicule I had experienced in my recent past. Even though I was relatively a novice in trying to present responsibly as a woman in front of the world, I still knew I had to make a concerted effort to do my best to blend in with the other women I would be facing when I went out. 

I chose where I wanted to go carefully. I knew that every night around eight or nine o'clock many single women would gather at a TGIF Fridays after work at a nearby upscale mall where they worked. If you are not familiar with a Friday's, it was one of the first venue's to welcome and provide a safe environment for single women in the country. 

Up to that time, my gender life was similar to riding a "teeter totter" on a kids playground. One day I was up with gender euphoria but the next day I was in the depths of my gender dysphoria. Desperately trying to find a way out until the "teeter totter" reversed and moved up again. The process dominated my life and made it very difficult to lead a so called normal life. 

On the night in question, I was determined to make a statement and help my gender euphoria. I began by picking out a fashionable black pants suit I had found in my size at a local thrift store and paired it with a sensible pair of women's flats they might wear following a long day in heels on the job. I applied my best makeup and longish blond wig and I thought I was ready to attack the world...or at least a small portion of it. To top it all off, my anxiety level was at an all time high as I traveled the twenty five minute trip to arrive at the venue. Once I did arrive I think I must have spent twenty minutes in my car trying to calm my nerves before I gathered enough courage to go in. I think my male self was becoming frightened the beginning of the end was coming for him.

As I went in, I had a small amount of knowledge on the venue I was going to. In addition to my wife and I going there, I had worked for a chain of competing venues for several years. So, I knew, if I could get past the hostess stand in good shape and secure a seat at the bar (if one was available) I had a chance of succeeding. When I did all of that and was able to breathe again, I was actually able to relax and enjoy myself and then start thinking I was in a "Code Red" lifetime moment. Deep down I knew, my life could never be the same again as I had arrived on the successful threshold of being a full time transgender woman. My male self was aware to he was in deep trouble.

From that moment forward I was able to go back to the Fridays and establish myself as some sort of a regular. Even though I never thought I presented completely as a cis-woman, I knew I was easy to remember. Back in those days, transgender women and men were just becoming slightly better known in the world. In addition I never caused any trouble and tipped well. In a couple places where I became a regular I even think the venue valued my business as a sign of their diversity.    

Whatever the case, the code red had occurred and the teeter totter began to stay in the upward position which meant my old male self was never coming back.