A Gender Yo-Yo

 

Image from Eric Prusak
on UnSplash. 

I have felt most of my life like I was a gender yo-yo. One day I was a boy and the next day I was a girl was the way I was living, and it was no fun. The ups and downs were killing me as it did in the future as I tried many self-destructive attempts.  Luckily, they failed.

Of course, my male self-received all the benefits since he was given all the advantages as I was born male and could do nothing about it. He got all the accolades when he did something right at home while at the same time, my feminine self-needed to remain firmly hidden away. Which did nothing to relieve the yo-yo gender life I was living.

Then, there were the vivid dreams I was having where I was the pretty girl. Sadly, I had to wake up to no changes in my everyday male world of having to compete daily with the rest of the male world I was in. It never changed so I was stuck and I could not go live in the world of women where I always wanted to be.  The yo-yo never seemed to slow down as life went by me, but I can say I did l learn to adjust to its up and down rhythms. As I began to understand what gender euphoria meant to me and how long it would last once it was over. The answer was a maximum of four to five days before the depression of not being an active participant in my own transfeminine life would set in and I would have to get creative and do something before my gender yo-yo hit the floor.

To counteract my depression, I began to research the meager amount of information I could find on gender issues way back then. The only term I could find was gender dysphoria which was labeled as a mental illness. So, I rejected it. All I knew was I was confused still if I was totally a male or a female. If the term had been popular back, then I have used gender fluid for awhile to describe myself. At least it would have worked until I began to run out of male fluid altogether. Since I did not have the mental willpower to find my gender fluid leak, I concentrated on keeping track of my feminine side. As I became a regular at LGBTQ diverse parties close to where I lived. It was like going to one of those quick oil change places where I could rejuvenate my feminine self around like-minded others. From lesbians I learned shared an attraction with me to toxic cross-dresser admirers, I was able to experience and learn from them all.

On the negative side, like my yo-yo, what went up had to come down as far as my gender euphoria went. Not too long after going to the parties, I started to miss the experience and wanted to do it more. Which made me a spoiled brat when I lost my yo-yo completely and could not find it. I was learning how to live a new life where I fit in as a secure transgender woman, but I was not there yet. What all my research at the parties proved was I had just scraped the surface of where I wanted to go as a trans woman but still had not had the chance to research where I needed to go internally. The internal piece would be the hardest to do because I had learned so effectively to wall myself off from the outside world and ignore it. As I struggled to live a life as a man.

I finally had to listen to the world and discover my internal piece was the biggest part of my second wife saying I made a terrible woman. Because I did before I was in the unique position to remake myself. Maybe in many ways, I was a clueless person all together and that would have to change before I could ever move forward into a better world. I had the chance to take what I learned in a male world and build a solid female world was a chance I just had to take. I needed to take a new approach and put the imbedded emotions of my yo-yo aside. It helped me with all the ups and downs I was feeling specifically with my mental health. I finally had to face the truth about myself and freed me up to be me as I always say.

If the truth be known, I was never any good with my yo-yo anyhow. My male-equated hand-eye coordination stopped me from doing more. Maybe it was my fault because I was always so biased about being male at all. Through all the ups, downs and sideways, I knew I could not take it anymore. It was time to take a time out from him and learn what life would be like of I took the transgender plunge. Was I risking all that I had earned to live my dream or not. I thought I would be fine after all the research in the world I did but I needed to make sure. What I discovered was I did not care for good about the risks I was about to take. As I said, I had put that old yo-yo away for good.

Hopefully you have been able to put that yo-yo of yours away too. It is certainly no fun to do it. Thanks for reading and commenting.

 

Labor Day 2026

 

Pik Nik with JJ Hart (left) and wife Liz. 

Time flies when you are having fun, especially when you are just getting older in life. Once again, another Labor Day and summer have come and gone. It’s like my mom used to say, life is like a roll of toilet paper, the closer to the end it gets, the faster it goes.

Around here in Southwestern Ohio though, we are entering what is called “Indian Summer” with temperatures which remind us of August. So, most of the fall fashions we have purchased will have to wait for another month until October rolls around.

Fall has always been my favorite time of the year as the leaves of the trees begin to change their colors, football is in full swing and I get to go through my fall and winter wardrobe to see what needs updating. It is one of the joys of living in a climate which still changes four times a year. In many ways, it seems like only yesterday when I first experienced my first summer to fall fashion transition as a transgender woman.  I thought now I was finally going to get to experience all the pretty clothes that ciswomen get to do. In a sense that was true once I could afford to update my fashion and find the proper sizes which fit me. To do so, I wore out my shoes going to thrift stores looking for fashion bargains which flattered me.

Of course, I forgot to mention the cross-dressers’ national holiday, Halloween which gives us the chance to flaunt how good we can look like a woman. Often for a neutral audience. I know for me it was the first time anyone saw me as myself outside of my mirror. For the first several serious Halloween parties of my adult life, I experienced the good and bad of being in public as a trans woman or even a novice cross-dresser. The good part was that I think I was successful in presenting as a woman while having the freedom to do it. However, the bad part was having to wait an entire year to do it again. Finally, I could take it no longer and needed desperately to take my feminine show on the road and head out to the malls unattended.

Once I began to try to get out of the mirror and into the world as a trans woman, Halloween just became the icing on my cake as my so-called “costume” changed from shock value trashy all the way to professional ciswoman ideas designed to see if I could fool people I did not know. No pun intended, but I made the transition from trash to class quite easily and I loved it. It gave me the direction I needed to go forward in my male to female femininization journey. I will be presenting more of my Halloween adventures as we get closer to the actual date of the holiday.

Sadly, not all my memories of fall are good ones. I vividly remember the nights I drove around alone seeking answers to my confused life which basically revolved around which gender was I and what was I ever going to do about my upcoming date with the Army. The rapidly blowing leaves in front of my headlights only reflected the despair of my life at that time.

So, that is why Labor Day represents more than just another holiday to me. As I said, the holiday makes me feel deeply about beginnings and ends as nature starts her transition from summer to winter and calls it fall and gives us brilliantly colored trees and cooler temperatures to enjoy.

Just a short Labor Day post today celebrating the beginning of fall around here. No matter where you are, I hope you can celebrate it too!

 

 

 

Your Lines in the Sand as Gender Markers

 

Image from Sonnie Hiles
on UnSplash. 

For the longest time, I set new lines in the sand as I progressed along my path as a novice transgender woman.

Sometimes, the lines were very faint, and I had a difficult time seeing them. All the way to deep trenches I needed to leap across. It all depended on what I was doing at the time. For example, when I was just dressing in mom’s dresses and putting on her makeup, the lines were very faint and easy to cross. In my mind, I was a boy one moment and a girl the next. A very black and white way to view myself, or so I thought until I grew older.

Instead of growing away from my cross-dressing years, I ended up growing into them by finally coming to a better mastery of the feminine clothes I wanted to wear and maybe more importantly, the artform of applying makeup which was a very deep line to cross for me. If I had worked as hard on my studies and sports than I did on my femininization projects, I would have certainly made the dean’s list every year and starred on the school’s football team. I was mentally built differently because of my gender dysphoria and could not decide for the longest time which gender path I wanted to follow because the feminine path was primarily there for an escape. When my male life became too stressful, I could shave my legs, slide carefully into my pantyhose which I had purchased myself from jobs I had worked and put on a dress and feel better instantly.

Even though I did not want it to happen, I began to build male privileges from doing a good job raising my daughter as a father and working jobs I was promoted at. When I did, I knew I would have a lesser chance of having just a small line in the sand to jump across if I ever needed to. Little did I know, how much both of my efforts would come back to help me in my later years when I encountered severe gender obstacles as I went behind the gender curtain as a transgender woman. I should say finally went behind the curtain since it took me decades to do it.

The problem arose with drawing more and more lines in the sand that my life as a transfeminine person became more complex quicker than I ever imagined. Often, I have described what I went through as sliding down a deep slope grabbing onto whatever I could to maintain the male life that I had. Just to watch it slip away. It led me to falling off the deepest cliff I could have ever imagined when I put away all my male clothes for the last time, went on HRT or gender affirming hormones and put my male life behind me for the last time.

By this time, even my stubborn old male self was admitting he had made a mistake by holding on as long as he did. All the covering lines in the sand I was about to cross with his own ideas did not work, as I was able to negotiate all the challenges thrown at me by ciswomen in the new world I was in. In many ways, I had come full circle when I learned how valuable all the building blocks, he had given me, just gave me more resolve to be a better trans woman. The daughter I mentioned earlier came around to be my earliest and strongest supporter so all the time I put into being with her when she was young came back to help me. Then there was my employment in the restaurant industry which turned out to be very lucrative for me in several ways. The first was with money and the second was with the opportunity to work closely with groups of varied ciswomen. In many ways, I learned what they faced in their lives gave me insight into what I was going to face when I joined their world.

For example, I learned what alpha females meant to the group of women as a whole, and if I could gain their support after I transitioned and joined their world, it would be very valuable to me. In many ways I found that good strong alpha ciswomen from super butch lesbians on down could do to help me erase my lines in the sand. I can’t begin to say how much they helped me. Even my second wife who was an unapproving alpha woman to me was a role model and taught me more about her life than she ever knew. Before she passed away tragically at the age of fifty from a massive heart attack. So, she never got the chance to meet the mature transgender me after I had crossed all the lines in the sand I needed to cross to just survive.

From all sorts of ciswomen, I learned that women come in all shapes and sizes with various levels of support of the transgender community. Many support us from afar and it would be different if it was their husband seeking to make his own line in the sand and become a transgender woman. On the positive side, there is now more information available to spouses of trans women to understand what seemingly a glaringly selfish path is to go down for their husbands. Especially with the husbands who have gone to great lengths to hide their gender passions from their wives for many years. When I step back and look at all the relationships which have ended over the years because of gender dysphoria, I try to wonder what would have happened if my wife was the one who wanted to draw his line in the sand and said enough is enough. I can’t take it any longer.

Of course, now I am biased and think I would have accepted my former wife bringing home another woman to get to know. How would my old male ego react? I am ashamed to say it now, but my old male self would have had to force the issue and solve it once and for all in his favor. Drawing his own line in the sand.

If you are at the point of drawing a new line in the sand for yourself, make it an achievable goal so you do not get discouraged. Finally, stay flexible with your lines as you know some will be deeper than others. If you do, you will stand a better chance of success.

 

 

Existing in a Male World from the Perspective of a Trans Man

Image from Nicola Dowie
on UnSplash. 

 

In response to yesterday's post praising transgender men, I received a comment from “Gio”, a trans man who follows my writings and thoughts.

Here is his comment word for word on what he has gone through during his transition from female to male:

“Thank you JJ for this nod. You know, they are a tough bunch, on the exterior. They are also exhausting. Try to teach them how to be a real gentleman and right out of the gate they label you a sissy. I always counter with being raised to respect and honor women. In the Italian Culture in which I was raised the women were savvy. The women in my family ran the show and they somehow left the men feeling like they were in charge. I witnessed this with my parents (first generation born in America) and my grandparents (immigrants - who escaped Mussolini; everything old becomes new again but that's another story). The Cis men I encounter, many of whom are wealthy Trump supporters, posit they own their women. She is to do what they say. A woman, if raped, deserved it because of how they acted or what they wore. It boggles my mind. So, I remind them that women are to be revered, they remain underpaid yet they have more talent than their male counterparts. I remind them that if married they took a vow to cherish and protect their wives. I could go on and on here. Suffice to say, it’s usually a bipartisan type of conversation and they often end pleasantly. Luckily, I've not been fired yet because mostly these are the people who keep me employed. I'm also amused by how they request me as their chauffeur to drive their wives and daughters. It's these little things that cause a ripple effect”. First of all, “Gio” thanks for the comment!

I really liked your insight into how exhausting men are because on the few times I went out with a man, I could not relax and be myself when I was catering to his ego. In my family growing up, we were a heavily male influenced crew but like you, mom ran the show from behind the scenes, so I learned a lot from her on how to be a woman, She is rolling over in her grave as we speak to hear of such a thing but it is true.

Fortunately, since I am retired, I don’t have to worry about working with any tRumpters and their backward gender ideas. But when I was employed, I always did my best to protect and advance the careers of the ciswomen around me. To the point of even hiring a transgender server at one of the restaurants I worked at. Sadly, I was transferred and she was fired by the next manager, but I tried to do my part.

Looking back, it was my love of sports and military service which kept me from wearing the “Sissy” tag early in my life and when I advanced as far as I did up the business ladder I was in, I understood that males form teams and I was able to benefit from that even though I detested everything I was doing most of the time when I needed to play the gender game I was in. Maybe the whole time, I was exhausted too about playing the male game and just wanted out to go to my transfeminine world. I took what my mom taught (more than dad) and was able to beat the system which was stacked against me.

When we are transgender, it is certainly a complicated world we live in when we need to go outside the confines of a so-called normal world. The old world is on its way out and hopefully a younger more progressive gender-neutral generation will power a better world. Especially for transgender men such as “Gio” who was kind enough to share his thoughts with us on his world.

 

The Consequences of Giving Up

 

Image from fast glass fx 
on UnSplash.

When I considered “purging” (getting rid of all my feminine makeup and clothing) the consequences felt like a double-edged sword.

For a few days, the pressure around gender lifted, and I had one less major worry. But before long, the familiar desire to live as a girl returned to my everyday life. I realized that cross-dressing—and perhaps something beyond it—would not be easy for me to give up. Even in that short time, I had learned a great deal and understood how far I still had to go before reaching my dream of living full time as a transgender woman. I was not even sure whether I could make it happen.

Then there were the brief moments of gender euphoria. The time I spent hiding from my brother and family was enough to keep me going until male puberty—and what felt like testosterone poisoning set in. I was unhappy that my body was becoming more angular while the girls around me were developing curves, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Even as those changes continued, I could not face the consequences of giving up. I learned to take what I could get until I was old enough to leave the mirror and closet behind and explore the world. What happened next was brutal. I discovered that the mirror had been lying to me when it suggested I looked like an attractive woman. If that were true, why was I laughed at so often when I tried to go to ordinary places, such as nearby shopping malls? Eventually, my frustration pushed me to look around and notice how most of the cisgender women I saw were dressed. Even if it meant adopting the casual styles I dreaded, I knew I needed to do it to blend in and be accepted.

The more acceptance I gained, the harder it became to return to my old life and face the thought of giving up on my dream. For the first time, I even felt excited about where my future might lead. I just had the glimmer of hope that I might be able to make it to the transfeminine life I always wanted to lead.

At that point, my male life began to creep in with a vengeance. He was becoming very successful with a small family and good job and the risk of giving it all up loomed large over everything I did. Not a day went by when I didn’t consider the consequences of what I was doing. I always say, I wish I could get back just a fraction of the time I wasted worrying about how I would be living my life if I was a woman. What would become of me if I jumped off my gender cliff for good.

What I decided to do was experiment in the world as a trans woman. My second wife called me a “terrible woman” because I had never paid any dues that ciswomen pay, and all I was concerned about was my appearance. I knew deep down she was right but I still at that point did not know how to fix the problem by paying my dues as a novice feminine person in the world. It was like if you are applying for a job, the employer says you don’t have enough experience but will not give you the job so you can get it.  I am sure my wife was right about my feminine knowledge, but I was having an impossible time getting behind the gender curtain to learn more.

As I slowly got behind the gender curtain, the consequences of giving up almost completely went away. Why would I abandon all the effort I put into being a complex transgender woman and throw it all away during a time when I was finally being successful. For a change, I was the one making sense in a gender situation which very few understood.  No longer could I be accused of being a terrible woman as I matured into my new self when I was allowed into women’s only spaces. Sure, I was still making mistakes, but they were getting smaller and smaller as time went on.

The mistakes I usually made came from when I miscalculated how complex a ciswoman’s life really was and how far I needed to go to be allowed to fit in. To eliminate all my mistakes, I needed to give up all the negative consequences of a male to female gender transition and just make the plunge. Fortunately for me, the water was not that cold, and I jumped into the deep end of the gender pool. Plus, I can never forget the soft feminine gender hands which helped me to survive the impact into the water.

I know many of are thinking seriously of making your own gender plunge and what would be the consequences of possibly losing everything you hold dear in the world. I know advice is easy to give, but the turning point for me always was how natural I felt as a transfeminine person. Something kept telling me I was born the way I ended up. And with some effort, I made it to where I always needed (not wanted) to be. Hopefully, that is a starting point for you too and the consequences of giving up become too much to consider.

If you are further along, I am sure you recognize the consequences of never giving up and somedays even being perceived as being selfish. As I was when I was headed all out to fully transition into a transgender woman, all I could think of how fast I could make it to my goal. So, I am guilty as charged. It is probably the reason my second wife called me a terrible woman. In all fairness to me, I did mature out of it and found my way into a better world.

All the purges in the world did not work for me and I put up with all the consequences I lived through. I am not a gambler, but in this instance, I played the odds and won.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stepping off a Gender Cliff

 

Image from my first salon
visit 12 years ago.

As I slowly began to become part of the world as a transgender woman, I felt as if I was sliding down a steep slope towards a deep cliff which I could not see the bottom.

Not being able to see the bottom of the canyon I was facing was probably the scariest part of coming out as my authentic self and being allowed to be behind the gender curtain with ciswomen around me. Along the way, I worried about the smallest things such as my appearance, all the way to how I sounded if I had needed to talk to someone else. Many times, in an emergency only because I was so unsure of myself as a novice transfeminine person. Sadly, I learned the hard way that as weak as my communication skills as a trans woman were, not communicating at all with other women was worse. Because not saying anything made me come off as being somehow stuck up or worse yet, bitchy.

Through it all, I came off sliding slowly down my gender path as I ignored several stop signs thrown up by my male self or my second wife who knew she was in danger of losing her husband altogether. For most of my journey at this point of my life, I was in the dark and used that as an excuse of why I had just ignored or run the stop signs I was facing. Whatever the case, I was living an exciting yet scary time of my life.

When I came out to my daughter nearly a dozen years ago, I finally had lost my grip on the small trees and vines I was holding onto during my steep descent into trans womanhood.  She surprised me by promptly supporting me and her only question was why was she the last to know, when in fact she was the first to know I was much more than a part-time crossdresser (as my first wife and her mother thought), I was actually a transgender woman who was afraid to admit it to the world.

Since my birthday was right around the corner, my daughter volunteered as a gift to me to take me to her hair salon/spa for a haircut and color makeover on my hair which had become long enough to work with. Even though the whole idea scared me to death, I took her up on the offer and she made the appointment which would forever change my life.

Before I knew it or could even entertain any thoughts of backing out the day was upon me and the next thing I knew I was with my daughter and her stylist looking at seemingly endless color and style combinations that I needed to choose from. Plus, I had to walk past a endless line of women in chairs who had nothing else to do but give me their undivided attention as I walked by, nervous as hell and trying my best not to show it. Fortunately, I had a complimentary glass of wine to calm me down as I chose a highlighted blond/red cut which all of us thought suited me the best.

Once I was done and allowed to see myself, I have to say I was impressed and knew why ciswomen everywhere put so much emphasis on taking care of the hair through salons everywhere. As I left, I felt as if I could skip my daily dose of gender affirming hormones because the estrogen was so thick in the air in the salon. As I said, it all added up to a day I will never forget thanks to my supportive daughter I could never thank enough over the years as she helped me pick out a new legal name change that my three grandkids could easily grasp. Ironically, the middle grandchild who was in the fourth grade had a teacher who was an out gay teacher in the school system and had my grandchild as a student. Then my daughter needed to explain the difference in their gay teacher and their transgender grandparent. As you can tell, diversity ruled in their house and went full circle when my oldest grandchild came out as trans.

As it turned out, I had nothing to fear from sliding off my gender cliff because it turned out I had built such a group of supportive people to help me when I fell. Of course, I always have to mention my future third wife Liz who along with my daughter turned out to be my best allies during my male to female feminization project. In fact, it turned out they knew me better than I knew myself and showed me the way to success. Liz in particular always told me that she never saw any male in me at all. Which in many ways provided me with the powerful shove down my gender cliff into a world I always should have been part of in the world of ciswomen. I don’t know what I would have done without the guidance of women such as Kim and Nikki also. I just know I probably would have kept up the male charade I was living longer than I did.

Perhaps the ironic part of them providing me a safe landing was when all the ciswomen refused to take any credit. The only response I ever got was welcome to our world when I tried to share stories about my first hot flashes, so I learned to keep quiet and learn how to protect myself when the expected gender crash happened. Because of women such as Min and Kathy, their initial invitations to their girls only nights out helped me to learn what life behind the gender curtain was really all about.

If I had known all I had learned earlier about being a transfeminine person, I would have definitely taken the plunge down my cliff earlier than I did. Not much I can do about it now as I am very much where I wanted to be and the plunge was not too bad after all.

 

 

In the Snake Pit

 

Image from Jeff Turnale
on UnSplash.

Before I made my male to female transition, I always assumed men were the fiercer competitors, mainly because of work and sports.

Once I made it behind the gender curtain to play fulltime in the girl’s sandbox, I found that my idea of gender competition was not true at all Ciswomen compete every bit as hard as men just in different ways and about different things. A well-worn example could be that women compete in the visibility arena all the time, and that may be true to an extent as ciswomen lay down certain fashion perimeters women have to live by to not cause undue attention. Such as wearing skirts and dresses too short or having non-age-appropriate hair (which I have) for my advanced age. At my age, I have decided to keep my hair the way it is because number one, I like it, and number two, I don’t really care what other ciswomen think of me.

Over the years, I have discovered that ciswomen compete as much as men for the chance to be attractive and attract male attention. In fact, I have a couple of examples where I was caught on the wrong side of female wrath. One of which occurred one night when my wife Liz and I were out in a LGBTQ friendly venue in downtown Cincinnati. During our visit, I needed to use the women’s room which happened to be downstairs in the ancient building the venue was located in. When I made it to the room, I found it to be a crowded two stall affair with several other women already there. As I went in one woman in particular glared at me as I made my way to the only open stall which was left. I excused myself as I went around her and took care of business, feeling better about myself.

As I came out of the stall and headed for the sink to wash up, I needed to almost move the woman who glared at me. She took her time moving and I noticed she ended up slouching below the electric hand blower/dryer on the wall, and I saw my chance for revenge. After washing up and checking my makeup and hair, I took my time moving to the hand dryer and casually turned it on which ruined the woman’s hair completely. After my payback, I gave her a little smile and left to tell Liz what had happened.

The next example I have of an irate ciswoman, took me totally by surprise in a venue in Dayton, Ohio where I was a regular. That night, my friends were not with me, so I was by myself when a couple sat down beside me. Before long, the woman started up a conversation the usual way, complementing me on something I was wearing. We struck up a little conversation about life without much input from the man she was with. I could not tell if they were married or not. Anyway, before long she excused herself to go to the woman’s room leaving just the man and I together and he started a conversation with me by the time she returned. For some reason, she must have been extremely jealous and thought I was competing for her man because the smile went away and the claws came out. To make a long story short both the man and I had claw marks up and down our backs before they quickly finished their drinks and left. I learned the hard way to make sure I never got between a ciswoman and her man.

The most profound level women compete on is with their passive aggressive behavior. They can be competing just as hard as men, just with a smile on their face. It is a learned attitude most ciswomen learn from their youth because of not being able to physically compete with men. Although I think some of that attitude is changing in some cultures where I see many girls fighting among themselves these days. But for the purpose of most all transgender women, our view of the feminine world does not change as we do when we go from aggressive male worlds to passive aggressive female worlds.

Outside of confronting two women in a rest stop woman’s room a couple years ago in Alabama, I don’t think I have ever found myself in a feminine snake pit ever. The two women I encountered were studying me way too closely and talking aggressively between themselves after they saw me, so I washed up and quickly headed for the exit before I had any other problems.

My best advice is to look ahead at your surroundings to not get caught in a feminine snake pit. My worst-case scenario happened when I had to go one on one with a woman in a bathroom in a venue where I had never been questioned before. She was screaming at me that I was a pervert. When I finally could get a word in, I asked her by chance what she did for a living and I saw my chance for revenge creep in. She said she was a hairdresser, so I asked her for a card so I could report her to the very powerful local LGBTQ establishment in Dayton. With that she stormed out and left me alone.

Even though being in the snake pit with other women was no fun, I looked at the entire experience as a rite of passage into the girl’s sandbox. If I could not survive the pit, how could I ever survive my chance to play behind the gender curtain. All my years as a man had taught me to beware of where the frontal attacks were coming from, and if I was ever going to make it as a transgender woman, I had to expect not everyone would accept me and be ready for it. I just never realized how close together the snake pit and the sandbox were going to be.

 

 

 

Is It All Competition

 

Image from Gavin Allenwood on 
UnSplash. 

As I began to follow my gender journey, I did have some sort of an idea on how cis women compete in the world and how it differs from men. The one mistake I did make was thinking women somehow operate in a kinder/gentler world when it comes to competition.

Once I was allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox and get into a couple brief but intense scuffles with other women, I learned the hard way that women were into it as much as men when it came to what was important in their lives. The difference being was what was important. Men of course, compete in athletics and business while women tend to build their lives around family and home. And let’s not forget the influence of appearance with women. While it is a shallow existence, some women have a tendency to make friends and socialize with other women who fit in with their appearance. I remember quite clearly trying to watch my pre-teen granddaughter try to socialize with and fit in with a much prettier girl at a birthday party she was at. This extended with me all the way to a lesbian mixer I was at one night when a friend of mine wanted me to approach a very pretty femme lesbian for a date for her. It turns out that both my granddaughter and lesbian friend were both out of luck.

Not unlike when men try to date beautiful women and get rejected. I know when I started down the path of getting out in public as a novice transgender woman, I was only concerned about my appearance. I felt I was working to compete one on one with the other women in the world I met. How was my makeup, hair looking and did all my accessories match the rest of my outfit was all that was important to me. It took me awhile to go through this portion of my life as a cross dresser and emerging as a wiser more mature feminine person.

It was also about this time when I started to really engage with other women. Which was a real challenge because I was so timid. What would I say and how would I say it became I bigger priority other than just how I looked. I discovered too, the power of the submissive compliment to start a conversation. An example was when another woman would come up to me and compliment my earrings to start a conversation. When in reality, she was just curious to find out what I was doing in her world. In particular, I found out that I needed to beware of the you look great compliment because it could be tied into a compliment such as a man dressed as a woman.

It turned out, when I built my own circle of ciswomen friends, I did not need to worry as much about competition in the world anymore. When I was approached, it was when I was part of a group of out-going women who without thinking, shielded me from any negative people. The process worked wonders for me because I could set back and learn how to act from the other women around me and only step up and out when needed to secure my place in the group.

Slowly but surely, my competition turned to confidence that I could live the dream life as a transfeminine person I never thought I could be. I began to join writer groups with my wife Liz which in turn helped build further my new life because these people never knew anything about my previous life as a male. It all separated me from my old unwanted life and propelled me into a future I so wanted.

Furthermore, I did not have to compete in the world with other women. If they had a problem with me, so be it. It was their problem not mine. I did not have to please everyone was a powerful moment in my life. But without all the gender competition I went through, I would have never made it to the point I am today. I learned from how men compete with each other as well as women from both sides of the gender spectrum. Typically, men don’t compete well with women at all, and I knew that going in. So, I knew what to expect. With other women though, I did not have any idea at all. It took me a long time to learn feminine competition and how it worked.

As I said, once I did learn to compete in the real world as a trans woman, my life changed for the better and I truly began to live the life I always dreamed of.

Missing in Action

 

Image from Miquel
Adjuelo on UnSplash

The reason I have been missing in action this time started with a fall I took a week ago. It was bad enough my wife Liz had to call the squad (ambulance) to get me on my feet and to the hospital. It turned out the flu I had contacted on our vacation had gone to my lungs and was causing the start of pneumonia.

In the emergency room the gender questions started almost immediately. I had two nurses checking me in  It did not take long to happen.  As one of them was checking my records which I knew said female, the squad driver came through and called me “sir”. So, the nurse appropriately enough asked me what I would like to be referred to as. I explained I was still biologically male but was living as a transgender woman as well as living with a woman and that was where the mistakes happen. She had other things to do and quickly moved on from me without commenting. But I knew the gender fun was just the beginning because this was not my first hospital rodeo.

I was prepared to lay my naked gender self out to a multitude of strangers I did not know. The only thing I was sure of I was not prepared to spend five days in a hospital to do it. Of course the first thing that  happened was the nurses had to get me into one of those infamous hospital gowns which are open in the back and begin to start to stick me in the arms to begin all the spots they would need to inject me with fluids and draw blood work which turned out to be a daily occurrence.

As far as my being humbled when my male nakedness was exposed was when the staff had to install a device to hopefully catch all my pee before it hit the bed. For the most part the device worked but when it did not, I had to be totally naked to the world as I was cleaned up. I was fortunate in that I had a staff take care of me who did not seem to care about my gender at all except for one nurse who infuriated me by referring to me as “buddy”. She might as well had been calling me “sir”. But for the most part, I received good treatment and eventually was released back to the loving care of my wife, and my daughter and son-in-law even drove down from Dayton, Ohio to visit me. They brought me flowers and candy on their seventy-five-mile trip. (one way).

The whole adventure was obviously not planned, so I did not have a chance to even clean up and shave before I went. So my best foot forward was in leggings, tennis shoes and a sweatshirt. But even as the admitting nurse said, they don’t expect everybody to be fully made up when they enter their care. Which made me feel better.

Speaking of feeling better, finally I am catching up on my sleep and feeling rested from my daily blood draws which had to be done at 5: 58 am every morning and even a person coming through at 2:00 am one morning to make sure I was wearing my safety sox…really? I guess it is no wonder why I feel so tired. If the sickness doesn’t make you tired certainly the hospital stay will do it for you.

As far as anyone else questioning my gender, they never did or did it behind my back where I could not hear them. Now my goal is to start writing again on a regular basis as my health returns. Thank you all for your patience.

 

 

 

Making the New You...You

 

JJ Hart

Making the new you… you probably know is a lot more than putting on a dress, wig and makeup.

Most of the time, it takes time to grow into what you always had thought yourself to be all along. A fully feminine person. By that, I don’t mean you have to go out and have major gender surgeries to feel complete although many transgender women do. In my case and at my advanced age of seventy-six, I have long since given up on gender surgeries because they don’t define me. But that is like HRT or gender affirming hormones, just because you can’t take them does not make you any less of a transfeminine person.

Going back to my original point, I think it is important that we take the time and opportunity to grow into our new authentic selves which have been a part of us forever. I know forever is a big word which people like me have run from our entire lives. It is especially frustrating when you discover the truth has been right in front of you forever. Instead, I took the long route or path of slowly discovering I could indeed make it to my dream of living life as a transgender woman. I had to go back and back fill my entire personality and outlook on life to do it.

In the book I am writing through another format for my daughter and other family members who have questions about my life. This week’s topic is what I would do differently if I had a chance to go back and do it again. It was an easy question to answer; I would certainly go back and transitioned earlier in life than I did. The problem I have with thinking this way is I am selfish and I would want certain aspects of my male life to live themselves out before I made the big gender jump across the border for good. For instance, I would hate to give up my stake in having my daughter who is one of the greatest gifts of my life. Plus, you can’t forget the world and its reaction to transfeminine people was much different back then and if I transitioned then I would consider surgeries to advance my standing in an often-unforgiving world. Chances are, I would, simply because I had so much longer to live.

It would have been interesting because back then, I had such little understanding of what I was really facing if I continued along my gender path. I was still laboring under the impression that a pretty face would be all I needed to get by as a trans woman. There was still so much to do to enable the authentic me to emerge into the world. What would I do when and if I needed to have the pretty face actually communicate in the world with other humans. I had come to the point where I could make her move more convincingly as a woman, now I had the biggest jump to make. I did the best I could. Even to the point of taking vocal lessons on the small ways ciswomen communicate with the world. The entire process was intense but worth it.

The only way I made it through the rebuilding process was to make it a completely selfish pursuit which I spent every spare moment thinking about. My male time in life shrunk to a bare minimum, or just enough time to get by and keep him moving on the essentials of life such as a job.

On the feminine side, I found I had help from understanding ciswomen that accepted me. I write about them often. Emphasizing their warmth and humor when at the same time were the best gender teachers I could have ever asked for. Together, they all helped the new me be me and move on from there.

From there meant I could begin to attend “meet up” groups in the Cincinnati area with my wife to be Liz. We went to writers’ groups as well as artisan/crafts groups which helped me to come farther out of my gender shell and just be the new me. If you live in an area which has groups such as meet ups, I highly recommend them as vehicles to experience new vistas of your gender experience. I always looked at them as a way to expand who I was in the world as I shed my old male past. Which led one step farther into a spiritual group which Liz was already a part of. I was invited in with open arms which gave me yet another new outlet to experience.

Making the new you, you will never be an easy experience depending on how much gender baggage you had to shed along the way. The longer I waited, the more I had to figure out what to keep and what I needed to get rid of. Whichever way you decide to go, just try to make the best possible decisions and keep moving towards your dream. Just think, your whole journey could be a labor of love.

 

 

Down but not Out

 

Hair by JJ Hart, Beret hand beaded
by Liz T Designs on Etsy.

One point I always worry about making is how many times I was not successful when I was trying to survive in the world as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. Or how many times, I walked completely out of my way to escape groups of teenaged girls coming towards me. Perhaps, similar to many of you, I was out and out laughed at by girls seeking their own sense of femininity.

Too many times, that I would like to remember, I needed to rush home with tears in my eyes to go back to the drawing board and reassess what I was doing because obviously, something was wrong. After years of failure, I finally found the person I needed to blame, my old male self and his ego. He was the one who kept urging me on to dress trashy in a failed attempt to show off my own femininity primarily to other men. It turned out I learned I was trying to impress the wrong gender; I should have been trying to impress the ciswomen I encountered. Blending in with them became my primary goal so I could be successful.

Many times, blending myself into a completely new and terrifying world became very difficult due to the layered life women live in. Every time I thought I had turned the corner in my gender life, something would come up and slow my progress down. Again, I was frustrated many times and ended up with me being down and out again in my transgender thinking. Through it all, I needed to keep my head up and be aware of any possibilities I may run into. Or, I should say opportunities to improve.

Out of all the opportunities I faced, I like to point out that communication was the hardest problem I faced once I finally got my appearance situation taken care of. To do it, I needed to solidify who my feminine person was. No more changing wigs and names every other time I went out. I had to settle on what wig and name I would use every time I went out because I was so recognizable. The pressure was on to make sure I was doing all I could to make a good first impression as a transgender woman. I needed to make sure I was properly social without coming off as being bitchy. When in fact, I was just shy with all strangers.

At this time, at least, I was not getting laughed at. I was learning what I needed to do not to be down and out as a transgender woman. Plus, I was still amazed how many other women wanted to communicate with me and understand what I was doing in their world. At that time, it was so important to me not to make a fool of myself and go back to my gender drawing board again. In my case, practice did make perfect, and I was finding myself less and less in potentially embarrassing situations. The problem was (if I had one) was keeping myself engaged at all times in my old male life. In fact, I was always flipping the script when I featured my female life over my old dominating male life. I needed to really concentrate what was left of my male life to make sure I preserved what I worked so hard to build up.

Looking back, I don’t suppose I was ever completely down and out as a transgender or transfeminine person. Even though everything I faced was not a positive situation, deep down I realized I was in a total learning situation, and I could (or should) work my way through it. Sure, I was blindsided in numerous situations, and I needed to rise above my limitations but somehow, I made it.

Every now and then I find myself in a position to give out advice. This time, I am challenging you to challenge yourself if you are actively seeking to change your gender life from male to female, or female to male. It will never be easy as you are attempting one of the most challenging experiences a human can undertake. But your positives will outnumber your negatives if you learn from your opportunities to improve.

Finally, you can get to the point where your old unwanted gender will not pull you down and you will not be down and out as a trans person. When you begin to trust yourself and build your confidence, you will be able to enjoy your new life for a change. You will be an up-and-coming person in a brave new world. Then maybe you to can be down but not out.

 

 

Up the Down Gender Slide

 

Image from Abbs Johnson
on UnSplash.

Maybe you remember Ralphie (In a Christmas Story movie) who desperately wanted a BB Gun for Christmas and froze up when he was in a department store telling Santa what he wanted for the big day. What happened was Ralphie got kicked down the slide when Santa told him he was getting a football. Finally, Ralphie struggled his way back up the downslide and told Santa he really wanted a BB Gun and was then told he would shoot his eye out.

This scene paralleled my life in several ways. The main one was, I never asked for a BB Gun but got one anyway and secondly, I never asked Santa for the baby doll I really wanted. In many ways, the whole idea of struggling up the down slide when I considered my gender became routine. Instead of shooting my eye with a BB Gun, I became more concerned with hurting my eyes with my mascara stick. Plus, when I tried to hide my cross-dressing activities from my second wife, I tried to be more effective in removing all of my eye makeup so my wife couldn’t tell. It was a challenge to say the least. But not the biggest challenge of all.

First, I needed to break all the male tendencies I had built up over the years. How did I present as a trans woman, all the way to how did I move and communicate. I knew ciswomen operated on a different wavelength than men but how different I never planned on. For example, the amount of nonverbal communication between women surprised me. I quickly learned to watch for the visual cues I picked up when I was in a potentially dangerous situation, I was not aware of.

Ironically, the more I struggled to go up the down slide, the more slippery it became. I had to become more mentally tough as a transfeminine person to even survive in a potentially hostile world. It meant going back to the drawing board when I was pushed down the up-gender slide even more. By mentally tough I mean with my resources, facial feminization would not be possible and there was nothing I could ever do about the testosterone poisoned thick male body, I would have to work with what I had. That damn slide was not going to get to me. What I did do though, was put myself on a highly effective diet which ended up in me losing approximately fifty pounds as well as beginning to take better care of my skin after I shaved every day. By doing better skin care, I was able to use less makeup and look more natural.

With these changes, I was able to actually start climbing up my gender slide, so that someday maybe I could get the baby doll I wanted to have instead of a BB Gun. Mentally, at least.

Other changes I had to make as I climbed to the top of my gender slide was conquering my fear of heights. There came times when I thought I was moving too fast, and I was in danger of losing all my hard-earned male privileges such as family, marriage, jobs and friends. I did not want to beat myself and my male self-had me looking over my shoulder. Then I resolved to never stop working towards my goal of transgender womanhood and moving on to a totally different goal of being able to interact more effectively with the ciswomen I met. I always called it playing in the girls’ sandbox.

Maybe it was my gender paranoia weighing in on me, but I kept seeing potential problems coming at me when I was out of the mirror and into the world. Some turned out to be real, but most were not. I found I did not meet as many gender bigots or anti-transgender ciswomen TERFs as I thought I would. Men were for the most part always standoffish and ciswomen just were not for whatever reason. Maybe, in their own ways, they had climbed their own gender slides and understood what I was going through and did not mind sharing with me.

If you are starting your own gender slide, or even reaching the top, just remember the trip will never be easy. But to coin a saying, if it was easy, would have it been worth it. I know for me; it was the toughest trip of my life. Plus, you are human and will make a mistake on occasion. Especially, when you are not allowed behind the gender curtain to learn the basics cisgender women were raised with. At that point in time, it is up to you to climb your slide and thrive. Not just survive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks

Thanks to all of you who have made comments here in Cyrsti's Condo or perhaps are new visitors to the blog. It means a lot! This includes those of you who comment through Facebook. :)

As far as the weekend went, we had another Cincinnati Witches Ball committee meeting to go to plus the ever exciting weekly trip to the grocery store. Both went without a hitch. I switched up my outfits and wore my paisley soft leggings I love so much with my long red sweater along with boots of course.

As I mentioned in my last post, the two "C"s (Comfort and Confidence) mean so much when combating my gender dysphoria. Again, as I mentioned, I didn't realize how deep my dysphoria ran.  Perhaps it all stems from a few highly unsuccessful  feminine trips in the public eye years ago when I first began to explore a new scary but exciting world. Basically, this was back in the 80's when times were very different.  Most of my problems were self created to be truthful.

Basically, I made the mistake of dressing for men and not women. Specifically, I dressed too trashy and drew too much unneeded attention.  I was stubborn though and figured since I didn't get to go out much, I needed to go all out and get the most bang for the buck. All of it resulted into too many mini skirts and high heeled days.

The only time I was really successful was when I dressed professionally and happened to blend with other cis women dressed the same way.

Which leads me full circle to the night I went out to purposely be a woman and blend in with other women getting off work from a local upscale mall. I was scared to death as I made my way to the upscale bar and ordered a cocktail. The first lesson I learned was, I lived. The second lesson was (after I relaxed) was I lived and actually felt very good doing it. The problem was I felt so good I knew I would experience more problems going back to my male life.

Little did I know, years later I would still be experiencing much of the same feelings.

Enough of me though. Thanks again to all of you for visiting! 

Halloween Dreams

It amazes me after all these years I can still have so many vivid memories of my early Halloween experiences.

One of the earliest goes back to the 1980's when I lived near Yonkers, New York. I was working for a Wendy's franchisee then and one of my assistant managers invited me to a Halloween get together she was having. I saw it as the perfect opportunity to get out and live as a woman for a short period of time...if I could figure out how to do it.

Since my wife wasn't really into Halloween and knew why I was, it was fairly easy to convince her not to go. Plus, she was always against what she thought were my sleezy costumes. With her out of the way, I was free to costume myself anyway I pleased.

I picked out a short mini dress, heels and one of my fave wigs for the evening. If you remember, big hair was "in" in the 80's, so I fit right in. After freshly shaving my legs, applying my makeup, panty hose and getting dressed, it was time to go.

What I wasn't prepared for was how well I was going to fit right in.

It turned out, the Halloween "party" she invited me to was actually a group of her girl friends who all were going to one of their local taverns to party. I was in heaven when I saw all these women dressed almost like I was. Initially they were in shock when they saw me and looked me over head to toe until my friend told them who I was. Then I was accepted.

The tavern was within walking distance of her house, so here we were all in our heels clicking along as we walked to the party. Again, I blended right in and felt great.

Once we arrived at the tavern, we proceeded to order drinks and the other women got up to dance. Unfortunately I have exactly no rhythm and kept my seat. Inwardly though, I was savoring every moment and even got asked to dance. Again, I politely declined.

All too quickly the evening had to end and I had to head back to my routine existence. However, the word spread through out my store how I had dressed for Halloween. Nothing much happened as I just said I always wanted to do it. Resulting in a few "yeah right" smiles.

Little did I know how long the memories of the evening would linger. It showed me how it would be to interact with women on their own level. If only for one evening. 

To Be or Not to Be

Recently here in Cyrsti's Condo, we featured two young transgender women who decided to come out and be LGBTQ activists...if even it's because they came out at all.  One was Teddy Quinlivan. Along the way, Connie wanted to clarify a comment she made:

"I didn't write what I did because I disagreed with Ms. Quinilivan's decision to come out as she did. In this age of cyber-information, though, it's likely that someone else would have exposed her gender status eventually. My point was that much of what made it possible for her to even have that option was by those of us who had gone before her. Whether it was more difficult for us (baby boomers) than it was for her could be debated, but I was more interested in the evolution and history of it all. We, who are the old-timers now, also owe much to those who had gone before us.

For many women, cis or trans, fashion models represent the unrealistic, if not impossible. I agree with Paula that it is about so much more than clothes and looks, but, unfortunately, there are so many who develop feelings of inferiority - and even hopelessness - when they compare themselves to these models. We trans women often talk about how passing is not really important, but I think most of us would like to be able to do so. If I could, I believe I would do everything I could to keep my trans status a secret. As a child, I fantasized about moving away to a place where nobody knew me and live as a woman. By the time I got close enough to my eighteenth birthday, though, testosterone had done so much damage to my body that my dream seemed to be forever quashed. Had I thought that I needed to look as good as a model, however, I never would have considered it in the first place.

Anyway, those of us who are trans and not models (although I want to be a contestant on a new show, "America's Next (Muffin) Top Model," can still have an impact. Just being out in the world and living regular lives can make a big difference. I think it's pretty obvious to most everybody I meet that I'm a trans woman, so I never bring up the subject. If someone else does, I do my best to educate them, but I always make it clear that I consider myself to be a woman, and trans is but one adjective of many others I wish to be used in reference to me. How about: loving, caring, friendly, good, or even bitchy (sometimes)?"


I agree. Unless you happen to be totally passable, you definitely are on the front lines of transgender acceptance/education. If you like it or not.  It's one of the reasons I respect those who come out despite having a ton of passing privilege .

Cosmo Girl?

As I have mentioned previously here in Cyrsti's Condo, I have become a regular reader of "Cosmopolitan Magazine." Of all places, I started to read it in my waiting rooms at the Veteran's Administration. I started out as a skeptic, wondering what in the world I have in common with all these impossibly skinny and beautiful young women...but not all as you can see in the picture.

Along the way though, I found all these wonderful articles on what women feel, mostly about the world of men. I even found an article celebrating the virtues of dating a transgender man!

Every now and then too, I read a reaffirming article on makeup. For example, I found out I was applying my blush the correct way. Over a fresh coat of foundation.  I never felt there was any other way all these years. Even though I don't consider myself anywhere close to the cutting edge in makeup application, I seem to find an idea or two in every issue.

FYI...a whole years subscription to Cosmo costs me less than fourteen dollars.

A small price to pay to give me yet another look at what I have missed in the world of cis-women.

I need all the help I can get!