Finding Comfort in your Own Skin

 

Image from Ayesha Rosley
on UnSplash.

I believe the way to finding comfort in your own skin as a transgender person is having the confidence to do it.

Just think of all the time you may have spent in front of your mirror as you gathered the courage to take on the public and work from there. Like many of you, I experienced severe gender dysphoria every time I looked in the mirror and saw a man dressed as a woman and was afraid to go out into the world and face the public. To this day, on occasion, I still suffer from my lack of confidence in who I really am when I look in the mirror in the morning. I do my best to just ignore it and move on and take on my day knowing I am doing my best with what I have to work with. Or as a transgender woman friend once told me, I pass out of sheer willpower.

My willpower was tested during the many times that I failed in public and needed to start all over again. At that time, I had very little confidence that I was doing the right thing with my life. I had to go through years of trial and even more error before I began to build the confidence I needed to succeed in the world as a transfeminine person. When it came right down to it, many times I was excited about the prospect of going through another trial to learn if I could be successful. When I was a success as a trans woman, I wanted to do more on my transgender bucket list of things to try in the new exciting world I was in.

Most the major changes for me came when I began to really look around at what all the ciswomen in the world were wearing and I needed to put away the stubborn attitude of what I thought I should look like. As I began to successfully blend in with the world at large, my confidence began to rise, and I could relax and feel more comfortable in my own skin. It was the beginning of a life-changing gender experience which I discovered I was along for during a very bumpy ride.

In many ways, the ride to being comfortable was like my favorite roller coaster ride at a big nearby amusement park. Often the ride up was slow and uncertain to the top but was made up by the rush of going down the gender hill. It did not take me long to appreciate the rush of coming down my own personal coaster. Even though I feared climbing the heights I was climbing (as well as the threat of falling) the risk was worth it as I began to carve out a small life as a trans woman. Which I always wondered if I could do at all.

I found I could do it thanks to the welcoming embrace of several ciswomen I was introduced to. It was scary yet powerful when I began to receive invitations to special girls ‘nights out. Once I figured out what I was going to wear, then I needed to figure out what I was going to add into the conversation with the other women who I had never met. I desperately did not want to act standoffish and worse yet bitchy by not joining in with the other women who I had a chance to make friends with. Looking back, I think I was successful because outside of one woman who kept glaring at me, I was treated well by everyone else. All this sudden attention led me to a newfound confidence in being in my own natural skin that I never had before in my old male life where I always needed to be on the outlook for someone trying to take away the life I had. I was always competing for what I had earned in a what you had done for me recently world.

The reverse was true in the transgender woman’s world I had found my way into. As I became more confident and successful in just being the me, I always wanted to be, the only competition I ever felt was when I needed to use the women’s room in a venue, I was not a regular in. And even that began to fade when I learned the proper etiquette to use in the typical women’s rest room. There was no thrill in doing just what came naturally, just the relief of being allowed in women only spaces to do it. Taking away any sort of a transphobe’s argument against me using the restroom of my choice.

In my case, becoming comfortable in my own skin was a constant problem which started with the way I was raised. My parents were long on material support and short on any emotional needs I may have had. Which led me to be alone with my gender dysphoria. It was a very lonely, confusing place to be and left deep scars on my internal confidence as I had no deep connection to what my true gender skin really was. The male world I was forced to live in, and the female world I wanted to be in. So, for me, the process of gaining any sense of who I really was a difficult and time-consuming process. Plus. My confidence was so fragile that the slightest problem could send me back to my cross-dressing drawing board to look for solutions.

Over the years, I flat out wore that old cross-dressing drawing board out until I began to figure out my problems were right in front of me. All I had to do was have the courage to do something about them. One of the problems was  they were so much deeper than just trying to look like a ciswoman. I was tired of thinking I was fooling anyone into thinking I was a ciswoman and settled into trying to build myself into the quality new feminine me I wanted to be as I had earned my womanhood from a difficult, unique path.

I seized the opportunity to finally be comfortable in my own skin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Light in the Mirror

 

Image from Alessandro 
Bianchi 
on UnSplash.

I spend quite a bit of time here attacking my mirror when I was growing up.

Recently, I have come to the conclusion some of my negativity could have been wrong. First of all, I was fortunate to have a beautiful full length mirror dad installed at one of the ends of the hallway in our house when I was growing up. When no one else was home, I would spend as much time as I had admiring myself in the hallway mirror. As I did, I could always see a brief dim light in the mirror when I viewed my feminine self for the first time. Even when I knew, the light would have to be extinguished soon, and I would have to go back to my unwanted male world. 

As I grew up and began to explore the world for the first time as a beginning cross dresser, I made plenty of mistakes the mirror did not tell me about. In fact, the mirror light shone brightly and told me I looked great when in fact, I looked just the opposite. I was presenting as a clown in drag with no one to warn me. For a long time, the light in the mirror nearly went completely out as I was rejected in public time and time again resulting in a deep depression for me.

I kept trying though, and the light began to come back on. I lost weight and began to find styles of women's fashion which flattered my body shape and finally began to present better. Especially when I was making the mental transition to novice transgender womanhood from cross dresser. To do it, I needed every break I could muster. Plus, I needed to turn up my light in the mirror, and let my femininized light shine through, so I could see her better. 

The extra light turned out to be all I needed to become more skilled at my makeup art and do the best I could with my testosterone damaged male face. With a little help from a professional makeup person, my light in the mirror grew even brighter, and more importantly, I could trust it. With trust came confidence which equated to more acceptance as a transgender woman in the public's eye. All of a sudden, my lifelong dream to lead a feminine life was within reach. If my light in the mirror stayed on. 

It did and I was even able to turn up my light to a brighter level with the addition of HRT or gender affirming hormones. Among the many other positive changes I went through was when the overall texture of my skin softened. Which meant the male lines in my face softened and I could use less makeup. Specifically, foundation. I quickly learned with more femininized skin and being able to wear my own hair, I was suddenly more presentable to the world. 

Looking back, I may have been too quick to judge my light in the mirror. It just took a little longer (along with the rest of me) to become more situated with living a new life away from my old male self, and perhaps it was my fault for not switching to a brighter bulb sooner. Plus, I was fortunate in that my light in the mirror did not burn out altogether. 

 

Knowing the Rules before You Break Them

 

Image from Milan de Clercq 
on UnSplash

I had a very good idea of what it would take me to survive in a male world before I decided to see if the grass on the other side of the gender border would be any better or greener.

Growing up in a very male dominated family with the only girl being my mom, provided me with a so-called brightly lit path to my future. I was fortunate in some ways to have a larger male body to keep the bullies away as I played sports such as football and baseball regularly.  Of course, I came to dislike my body completely when I went through male puberty and had a difficult time finding any new fashionable girls' clothes to wear. 

When I went through the hated male puberty, the rules of the road so to speak, became clearer and clearer to me. Coming from a white middle-class family with two working parents in the 1950's to mid 1960's gave me a work ethic I used to scrape together the meager funds I needed to buy my own makeup and a few fashion accessories. I knew I could not ask my parents for the money because they would want to know what I needed it for. Any hint of femininity on my part would immediately break all the rules and would result in trips to a psychiatrist. Even then, I knew going to a therapist who knew nothing about gender issues would be a disaster. 

I knew the rules and played the game of male gender the best I could. I found good hiding places for my femininizing fashion and makeup while at the same time, dreamed of the day I could buy a nice wig. In those days, I was able to get by with a mirror who never lied to me by telling me I was a pretty girl. The feelings of joy or gender euphoria would continue several days before the pressure built up on me to cross dress again and again. When I began to realize I was just scratching the surface of my gender issues, I became quite good at knowing one of the primary male rules taught to me as a kid. If you did not like something, internalize it until it went away.

The problem I had was, my desire to be a woman never went away and it was so much more than just being a phase. From the darkness of my closet, I had what turned out to be a distorted idea of what womanhood meant to females everywhere. I only saw what I considered the good part was. Such as no military service and being able to enjoy the wonderful world of woman's fashion. I left out the challengingly part of women's lives such as child raising and toxic men, to name a few. As I was able to cross the gender border, I did realize the grass was not always greener and had I truly been a birth daughter to my mom, extra pressure to conform to her standards would have increased. I am certain she would have pushed me to go to the same university she did, all the way to pledging the same sorority.  I would have again been breaking rules. Just of a different sort.

When I arrived at a time when I was drafted into the military, I was forced into being a follower of rules more than I ever had in the past. Conforming to new Army standards to survive at least kept most of my mind off of my gender issues. I needed to put my desires aside and just dream of the day I could be free to be a transgender woman in my future. It was difficult, but I did it.

By the time I was honorably discharged three years later from the Army, I was able to settle back into the life I had before without one big exception. Without military service looming over my head, I could concentrate on my future. When I did, it became increasingly evident to me, there was a possibility I could break all the gender rules and achieve transgender womanhood. It was still going to be a decades long journey from there, but I was encouraged for once.

Of course, once I began to explore the world as a novice transgender woman, I found a whole new set of rules to deal with. To make matters worse, I had no knowledge of many of the rules I was about to break before I did them. The workbook I was using was blank and I needed to write the rules as I needed them. 

Again, I was fortunate, and I survived when I broke the rules, but I learned quickly since I was free.  Then as I safely continued along my gender path, I found I could make it safely to my dream. Mainly because I knew the rules from both sides of the binary gender and I was a better person for it.