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| Image from Vinicus Amix Amano on UnSplash. |
During my life, I have never been accused of being an artist. In fact, I would mess up drawing stick figures.
The best thing I could do was connect dots. Which I needed
to do quite often in my gender conflicted life. Basically, the main dots I needed
to connect were, was I a boy or a girl. It ended up taking me far too long to
finally connect those dots and attempt to draw my gender picture.
When I began to experiment with makeup, I learned the basics
of facial artwork and even I could make myself look better in the mirror. Mainly,
though, I struggled along until I summoned the courage to request a makeover
from a professional makeup person at one of the transgender-cross dresser
mixers I went to. He did a miracle job and transformed me into a woman who I
only had dreamed of. Most importantly, he was able to explain to me what he was
doing in a step-by-step format that even I could understand. I looked so good,
I was invited along by the “A” listers, as I called them when they went out to
explore other venues after the mixer was over. I even got the last laugh over
all of them when a man tried to pick me up in a venue we were in, and they were
not.
Sadly, the success I felt from the mixer did not last long
when I had to go back to the real world, I was a part of. When I did, I became
mean and nasty to my wife and others around me. All the way to almost losing
jobs because of my attitude. No way to paint a picture. Somehow, I needed to
get better before I self-destructed my life.
I hung on until I did get better when I had the chance to
leave my closet more than once a year for Halloween parties. I was aided by the
fact that my artwork with makeup and clothes continued to improve until I
looked better than some sort of a circus clown in drag. I simply had to if I
was ever going to have the chance to live my dream. Through it all, it did
occur to me how difficult the process was going to be. I was painting two
pictures at the same time, one as a transfeminine woman. One as a successful man.
The stress of doing so nearly killed me. Being a man was easier because of all
the white male privileges I had gained but being a transfeminine woman felt so
exciting and natural when I painted her.
By the time I had gotten this far, I found I had painted myself
in a corner. I could see the finish line for a change, while at the same time,
I had a wife I loved, a family I loved and a good job to protect as a man. Decisions,
decisions were wearing me down. Primarily because it was so frustrating to me
to have worked so hard throughout my life to paint two pictures, only to have to
finally choose between the two. What I did was let the public choose which
picture they preferred. Since my transgender woman had an unfair advantage, she won
the contest easily. She got to start all over again and learn from all the
mistakes her male counterpart made and go from there. Time and time again, the
public picked her.
Putting the finishing touches on my feminine portrait proved
to be easier said than done. First, I needed to come out of my closet to what
was left of my blood family. I received a 50/50 reception when I was accepted
by my daughter and rejected by my brother. By this time both of my parents were
deceased. Predictably, both coming out events were scary and quickly resolved.
My daughter wondered why she was the last to know while my brother did not have
the courage to stand up for me to the rest of his extended family. We have not
spoken now in over a decade. Sad but true, he never wanted to see my finished
portrait. Conversely, my daughter and I are closer than ever.
But then again, are our portraits ever finished until we die.
Shouldn’t we always be making small upgrades the best we can? Plus, age should
put us in a better position to do it. Sure, painting two completely different
gender portraits at the same time was difficult and at times required tons of
skill to keep one hidden. But somehow, I was able to gain the artistic skill to
make it happen.
The powerful draw of an overwhelming dream was all the
motivation I needed to become a better artist and provide the background I
needed to live a life as a transgender woman.
