I Did Not Just Wake Up This Way

 

Image from We Vibe Toys
on UnSplash

I get a sense of amusement (mixed in with a little frustration) when someone thinks I just woke up one day and decided to put on a dress and makeup.

I don’t have much energy to keep explaining how my gender dysphoria has always been a part of me and one I did not ask for. My frustration sets in when some time ago, an acquaintance from the transgender community I met proudly told me she had never been gender dysphoric in her life which I had a hard time believing since she finally went through the extensive gender realignment surgeries.

Then, I began to think did she or even me know the true definition of gender dysphoria. So, I went to look it up from a well-known online dictionary and here is what I came up with: “ a state of severe distress or unhappiness caused by feeling that one's gender identity does not match one's sex as registered at birth.”  I felt that my acquaintance simply did not know the meaning of the words.

Immediately it made sense to me because that is the way I felt growing up wondering if I was a boy or a girl. The only thing I knew for sure was the way I was born and how it affected my life. Perhaps the worst thing was that if I did not understand the way I was with my gender mix-up, how could I possibly expect anyone else to understand it either. So, I headed down the worst path ever and tried to internalize all of my feelings. Internalizing left me with only one way out. Which was to attempt to cross-dress myself in front of the mirror as a girl, away from my perceived dominant male gender.

As many of you know, cross-dressing in secret behind the back of your family is never easy as you have to sneak around and plan every spare moment to do it. It was something I would not have wished on my worst enemy. Why couldn’t I just have been a so-called normal boy like all if my friends seemed to be. Then reality set in as I realized again, I was not “normal” to many people and would have to live with it. Living with it became increasingly more complex as I matured as a serious cross-dresser into an even more serious transgender woman. I evolved into needing more than just admiring my feminine self in the mirror and wondered if I could do it in the world too. Before I did, I needed to gather the courage and confidence to do it. Which was very difficult for me to do because I just did not wake up and lose all the insecurities I had in my life. Many of which involved me ever being able to live as a woman, trans or not.

As I always mention, my early days in the world as a novice transfeminine person were not easy until I developed the tools in dressing myself and learning the basic makeup arts so I could blend in with the ciswomen around me. After many failures in the malls, I finally knew I had made it when the teen girls who used to notice and harass me began to leave me alone and concentrate on their own developing socializations into women. Which was the same path I was on. Just from a totally different direction, but it was taking me awhile to wake up and realize it.

One of the reasons was that my male life kept getting in my way. He needed space to continue to work on his marriage, help care for a daughter, and work on expanding to a growing successful career. Nothing too remarkable for most cismen, but very difficult for the average transgender woman trying to build her life at the same time. The worst-case scenario happened and the two binary genders within me began to compete for space at the same time. It was like the old days of waking up wondering what gender I was going to be any given day and the stress to my overall mental health was building more than I can say. I became very self-destructive as I finally thought I was not strong enough to handle the life I was given.

Somehow, day to day, I put my life together trying to remember who I was that day until I was fully able to try to disguise my true feminine self to the world. While, at the same time presenting myself as my “normal” male self. I ended up covering my feminine tracks so well that no one expressed to me that they knew all along when I finally emerged into my transgender world. They were all surprised that I never showed any signs of the true journey I was on with my gender.

When I finally woke up to the fact of who I really was, it was as though a tremendous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I did not need my “Two C’s” so much anymore to get me by in the world. I was gaining the confidence I needed so I did not need as much courage as it took previously to carve out a new life as a woman and blend in with all of the ciswomen around me in their world. Saying that I was overjoyed when my life was coming together would be an oversimplification as age-old questions for me were starting to be answered. The main one was that I had been living my life backwards for decades causing conflict. Regardless of what society told me, I was never a man. I was a woman trying my best to lead a male life. For the most part I was successful, which made matters worse as my genders clashed for survival.

All along, I just wanted the battle to end so I could live my life in peace. I had my feminine side telling me how natural her life felt when she was allowed to live it. While at the same time, my male side was questioning why I would ever give up all the male privileges I had gained over the span of my life.

I chose the natural path which led me to a happy feminine life over the materialistic life which had only brought me stress because I was in the wrong place. Waking up was the best thing I ever did.

Thanks so much for reading along with my transgender experiences. Hopefully they can help you to understand yours too! Any comments are always appreciated.

 

 

How Halloween Benefitted Me

 

Image from Jennifer Marquez
on UnSplash. 

In the recent past, I have written a couple of stories about my Halloween experiences but there were more which taught me valuable lessons about the possibility of following my gender path.

Such as the time I was able to set up a training trip down to my company’s headquarters in Lexington, Kentucky to coincide with my favorite time of the year which was Halloween. In those days, the fashion rage was very much into fake leather, and I could not wait to show off my new faux leather mini skirt and matching top at a Halloween party. To get ready for the trip from Ohio to Kentucky I needed to find private time away from my wife to pack two sets of clothes. One for my male presentation at the company headquarters and another for my so called “costume.” Somehow, I was able to find room in my suitcase for makeup and a wig, and I was ready to go. The lessons I learned on that trip were that I could indeed pack effectively for two genders.

Once I arrived in Lexington, the next problem I faced was figuring out where I was going to go to show off my new “costume” in public for the first time. Luckily, the hotel I was staying in had several different publications in the lobby I could look at to see if I could find any parties that may be close by. I did, and then had to try to find them, after I was cross-dressed and ready to go. I was nervous as I put on the only pair of black panty hose I brought with me and put on the padding I needed to work with to provide a feminine figure. Next came my makeup and a resurrection of my wig following its time in my suitcase put on my heels and I was nervous and ready to go.

Probably, the biggest challenge I was going to face was going from my room to the elevator then worrying about facing anyone else as I went down to the hotel lobby. I should not have worried because I did not see another person until I arrived at the entrance and the ones I did act like I was not even there. Then, I was off to find the venue I was looking for in a city I was not familiar with at all. Back in those days, there was not such an invention as a GPS to help me along but somehow, I did find the first big venue I was looking for. Lesson learned. Try to find out where you are going before you get there. On the other hand, I had a powerful motivation to get out of my closet and see if I could survive in a straight world of Halloween party goers as a novice trans woman.

When I arrived at the entrance to the venue, they were checking identification at the door and surprisingly, no one reacted to the person in costume as a woman with the obviously male I.D. My hand was stamped and in I went to an unknown experience which might change my life as all the other Halloween experiences had done.

As I walked in, the venue was already packed, and I needed to find my way to the bar for a drink and the closest route was across the dance floor. I took a chance and made my way through the couples dancing and up to the bar. Once I ordered my drink and was served, I started back to a relatively uncrowded part of the club to enjoy people watching along with the feel of my “costume.” It was then that I learned the lesson of what it was like to be a ciswoman in a crowded venue with potentially toxic cismen who could not keep their hands off of my rear. I have never been pinched and touched so much in my life as I made my way back to one of the rare open seats I could find. Lesson learned again as I headed off to another venue to experience more of my evening before it was time to return to my hotel in my faux leather outfit.

I did find one other place which was having a party, so I decided to make it a night by stopping in there also. The second venue on was far less crowded and mellow than the first one and I was relaxed and had the confidence from my first experience to go right in. I was met by a friendly checker at the entrance and again no reference was made to my male identification which was probably due to the magic of it being Halloween.

One thing I did not do was stick around in either place for their costume contest because I was so insecure about myself. I did wonder if I did join the contest and somehow won if all the men who were fondling me would have been properly shamed but probably not. All they pinched was foam rubber anyhow and I went on my way with another powerful lesson learned about how ciswomen are really treated. I wondered if I had not been wearing any protective padding would I have bruised the next day.

The biggest problem I had was coming down off of my gender euphoria rush to effectively teach the company management classes I was supposed to teach. I did not make the trip to Lexington very often and was never able to spend a Halloween evening there again. When I went, I was often stuck going out with groups of other male managers to strip clubs where I did not really want to go. While I admired good female bodies, I never had the urge to go any farther. I was always the first to leave the strip clubs which made for a clearer head in the morning from no alcoholic hangover.

Without the benefits of many Halloween experiences, I am sure eventually I would have made it to my goal of living a fulltime transfeminine life, but it would have taken me longer. I would have not had the “A-Ha” moments I had from Halloween when I was able to see why women are able to exist in the world the way they do, and I will never forget the lessons I learned from my favorite holiday.

 

 

 

 

 

Peeling Back my Gender Layers

 

JJ Hart with "Brutus Buckeye"
In the Ohio State Student
Union. 

Following the awakening I received from the numerous Halloween parties I went to “costumed” as my authentic feminine self, I needed to determine the complex path I would take so I could survive in the world.

What I ended up deciding on was a layered effect as I learned the ropes of the feminine universe I had only dreamed of living in. Like many of you, I started slowly with trips to my closet’s mirror, cross-dressed as what I thought was a pretty girl. In essence, the mirror provided me with my first layer to build from. Since putting on mom’s clothes was a relatively easy thing to do, I needed to concentrate on wearing her makeup which was not. No matter how hard I tried at applying makeup, I somehow ended up looking like a rodeo clown in drag. Adding this layer of expertise to my attempts to be pretty were intimidating before I started to see improvement.

Once I started to believe I had mastered the makeup arts part of my new life, I needed to add a new layer and set forth to do more about doing what I could to counteract the testosterone poisoning of my recent puberty. Since there was nothing, I could do about certain aspects of my body, I needed to do better in hiding them to the world when I started to leave the closet and explore. Those were the days of crash dieting and hunting through many thrift stores for just the right fashion item I could not live without. Mirror worship came back to help me during this layer of my life when I could honestly tell myself if an article of clothing really flattered me or not. I needed to get out of my teen cross-dressing fashion years and into a more realistic look I needed to blend in with ciswomen everywhere.

Blending in brought a whole new layer to my gender existence. To my relief, women had more of a tendency to embrace who I was becoming in their world, while cismen everywhere shunned me for leaving their club.  It all was an extension of my life as a man because I had never had much of a liking being around other men anyhow. I guess it all was a precursor to the person I was destined to become as a transgender woman. Probably, more than anything else, the Halloween parties I learned from helped me to be a success during this layer of my life when I was allowed to learn the basic differences between the two main binary genders. And landing squarely in the middle of both until I decided once and for all which direction my life would take. Should I take the easy way out and stay a very serious cross-dresser or follow my instincts and achieve my dream of living a transfeminine life.

To do so, I would have to add layer upon layer to my life by taking the old male building blocks I had used to get me by and use them as a foundation to build a better future. Little did I know what I was getting myself into as I was going past the princess-appearing layer of my life. For once, I was going to have to not listen to what my parents said about me when I approached any project I took on. To put it bluntly, they always told me I “half-assed” everything that I did just to get by. To advance through the gender layers that I wanted to, I knew I could not take the old approach to life I had always taken or I simply would not make it to my dream. It suddenly looked as if it was getting closer and closer to becoming a reality.

Before I just set all the male privileges I had learned aside, I needed to see what I was getting myself into. What would I really face as a fulltime trans woman if I ever decided to cross the gender border. I was selfish and wanted to see if I could peel back all the diverse patterns of life a ciswoman goes through before I went down her path. I was lucky in that all the right gender doors opened for me as I learned the ropes of being a woman in a supposed male dominated society. To do it, I needed to learn to leave the male domination behind me and learn a whole new society which existed for and about women. But I needed to earn my way in from all the gatekeepers in my way. I learned it was not going to be easy.

It did not help that initially I was so timid when I presented myself the keepers of the feminine world and it took me the “two C’s” to overcome it. The “two C’s” I speak of are courage and confidence. I needed the courage to think I was ready for my next gender layer and the confidence to do it. Somehow, I needed to get back out in society and prove myself all over again and carve out a totally new life as a trans woman for myself. I needed to keep reminding myself that yes, I was different, but what was wrong with that. I would never be a ciswoman but my socialization as a woman came from a whole different world you would not understand unless you lived it. Surprisingly, the gatekeepers let me in and I decided right then that HRT or gender affirming hormones should be in my future to provide a major kick forward in my transition femininization journey. I had done most of the hard work peeling back the layers I needed to learn if I wanted to do it and now it was time to take the easy hormonal way towards my future. I say easy because my body took to the hormones like what took you so long and all the changes seemed so natural.

The main thing I learned along my gender path was the number of layers I would have to peel back to achieve my goal. I knew going into it that nothing would be easy, but nothing prepared me for what I was about to face. Once I did face my reality that I was feminine all along, it was clear sailing to my dreams.

As always, thank you very much for reading along and I hope my experiences can help you along your gender paths. Comments are always appreciated.

 

Like the Bulb which Refused to Go Out

 

Image from Christian Dubovan
on UnSplash.
 

Years ago in another life, I bought a small corner tavern in an 1860’s era brick building in my hometown with a friend of mine.

My dad aptly called the bar the place flies did not have to stop when they flew through and I had to agree. But his criticism did not stop my friend and I from trying to make it the best tavern we could. When we were bored, we started to look around in all the saved junk that ancient bars accumulated and found a vintage, part wooden beer sign we could not wait to put up, even though that brand of beer did not exist anymore.

Amazingly, the sign had an ancient filament light bulb that still worked, so we used it and it kept on working for years. Later, I began to think of that bulb and how it could describe my gender conflicted life. No matter how hard I tried, my inner gender feminine light just would not go out. Not even a three-year stint away in the Army from the external expression of me being a cross-dresser could put it out. In addition, when I was honorably discharged, I found I needed to replace my inner gender bulbs with ones of a greater wattage to illuminate my dark, lonely closet.

Brighter bulbs helped to illuminate my feminine image in my closet mirror and helped me improve my makeup art as well as determine what clothes would be the right ones to wear. My new visions of myself helped me to speed up the cross-dressing experience and I just wanted to have more. That is when I began to take chances by going out into the malls and shopping centers close to my home. It did not make matters any easier as I learned how far I needed to go to successfully blend in with the ciswomen around me. Instead of displaying a small/dim bulb to succeed, to get to where I wanted to go, I needed a brighter bulb to display myself if I was ever going to make it as a successful transgender woman

At first, I was just using my light to interact with clerks and salespersons until I built up my confidence to do more. I was moving past my early days of Halloween exposure to the world as a trans woman and I was scared to death because for once I did not have the, “well I am wearing a costume” excuse to fall back on if I experienced any pushback for my cross-dressing in public. I was not up to no good, all I wanted was for my light to shine brightly in the new exciting world I was in. Unfortunately, in my early years, you might say I was a dimwit when my light bulb flickered and I thought it was going to go out. Those were the dark days of “purging” or getting rid of almost all of my feminine belongings and pledging to myself that I was going to turn the light off for good, put it all behind me and go back to where I was as a successful man.

As I said, those were the days of being a dimwit because deep down I knew I needed that feminine bulb to survive. No matter how dim it was at the time. Ironically, every time I “purged” I discovered very quickly I would need a much brighter bulb to sustain my life when I returned to my gender reality. Then I started to work hard to see what my new reflection in the world really was as a transfeminine person. I had to be constantly on my toes with my best behavior to do it as I was learning so much from every woman or the rare cisman I interacted with. It seemed as if I had to keep a constant supply of new bulbs handy every time I went out in the world. I always mention the stripping of all my male privileges as the main way which drastically dimmed my new light as a trans woman until I could replace the privileges with the whole new euphoria of being able to exist equally as myself in the girls ‘club I so desperately wanted admission into. It finally became evident to me; to be admitted, I had to find a bigger, better bulb to improve my overall presentation. So, I would never have to start all over again with my feminine life.

After years of experimentation and trying, I made it into the girls’ club where I always should have been in my life. And I put all those years of replacing bulbs behind me. Suddenly, my gender path became well lit like a large city street which I was able to navigate easily. With the help of powerful/magical HRT gender affirming hormones which helped me sync my external selves with my feminine inner self. I really became a whole person with all the gender benefits I had ever dreamed of. My emotions became clearer as I became more sensitive to the world. Among with the usual changes in hair on my head and breast size to my chest. Probably, most importantly, I was able to quit trying so hard with my makeup as my skin softened along my facial angles which made me more passable as a transgender woman. The world questioned me less, so I was able to change out fewer bulbs as I continued to play in the girls’ sandbox for the first time in my life.

The only regret I have is that it took me so long to follow my feminine destiny and live out my truth in life. I wasted too much time and money cross-dressing my life away changing gender bulbs until I got it right. I should have taken the time to write down somewhere the number of excuses I heard from my male self why I should ignore my truth and not try to live a life as a transgender woman. But I did not and the only thing I can fall back on is when my male life was good, it was very good and very bad when it was not. It is the only excuse I have to waste all those bulbs I did over the decades of gender experimentation I did to arrive at my destiny.

Hopefully, you can do the same. Thanks for reading and comments are always welcome!

 

 

 

 

How Difficult Could it Be?

 

JJ Hart

When I started my transgender journey, I was very naïve and I kept thinking how hard it could be to stay on my path.

All I saw was the good side of being feminine with all the girls around me in their pretty clothes and long hair when I was stuck in all the restrictive, boring male clothes and very short haircuts. To make matters even worse, I needed to make sure I kept all of my cross-dressing activities very hidden from the family and friends who would have ridiculed me and called me a sissy boy. The worst thing I could be called in my very male dominated family.

As I said, I was naïve and for years thought that all I wanted from being feminine was looking like a woman, so I obsessed about it night and day. Eventually, I did come closer to achieving my goal while all the ignoring harassing comments from my second wife who rarely wore any makeup at all. On the rare occasions she went out with me, she constantly thought I was going too far with my makeup and hair to the point of calling me the “Princess”. When all I was doing was trying to blend in with the ciswomen around me by overcoming my old male self.  Of course, I felt the criticism was not fair and the evening was ruined. Often before it even got started. From that point forward, the fights started because she did not like the trans woman I was becoming. And I did not understand why.

I think now that she thought I had not paid my dues as a woman yet to claim the socialization title and she was right. I was still stubborn and did not know how I ever was going to have the chance to play in the girls’ sandbox if I did not want it bad enough. I was stuck between two massive changes in my life which would either involve giving up the woman that I loved for one that I was learning to love. How hard life could be was becoming a reality for me like a boulder rolling down a cliff directly at me. It was quickly becoming unbearably hard when I discovered I could indeed see a path ahead of living my life as a transfeminine person.

What happened next was that I began to step away from my wife and essentially live the life she challenged me to live. That is to begin to socialize myself as a transgender woman in the world. I started to meet strangers as a trans woman who never knew me as a man and start all over in a new life. How hard could it be? It was and the whole process scared me to death. I was terrified of being stripped of all my old male privileges and having nowhere to turn if something negative happened to me. How would I be able to react to potentially negative situations in my new life. It turned out I did not have many potentially negative problems, and I was able to grow into my new feminine person with very few problems because most of the world did not care what gender I was. They were too wrapped up in their own worlds. Especially the cismen who were so afraid of their fragile sexuality that they left me alone. Which was fine by me, since I had always had a problem with making friends with other men when I was trying to be one anyhow.

Ciswomen, on the other hand, were much more willing to let me in their worlds and even show me around. Making it less hard to be one of them as I was learning daily how to fill out my life. I always had enjoyed being around women and found I even enjoyed it more when I was made a member in good standing of the girls’ club. Being in the club entitled me to use women’ only spaces such as restrooms which made my life so much easier also.

Most likely, I made some male to female transition issues more difficult than they should have been. Such as when I first came out into the world and thought everyone was looking at me, when they were not. I even went as far as to wear a favorite pair of sunglasses I had to see if anyone was staring at me without them knowing it. They were not, I was relieved and was able to go on with my new life. With new confidence I never had before. Maybe I could achieve my dream after all. It was a scary thought because then I had to start to think about what I was going do with all the excess male baggage I had built up over the years when I was trying my best to hide my true self by being a successful man.

The entire focus of my life changed as I began to consider the new and exciting reality of being able to live out my dream I had wanted since I was a child. I was sad when I could not tell the truth when an adult asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I could not say a woman and earn a quick trip to therapy by my parents. At the time, being a woman seemed as far away to me as being a lawyer or a doctor. But at the same time, a dream I really wanted to live.

Along the way, two things were evident to me. One of which was every time I achieved a goal on my path, another would appear for me to consider doing. And the second thing was, every time I began to doubt myself, I would start to feel natural about my journey and it would re-energize me, so I could move forward again. Forward was always good and made me feel better about my life which brings me back to my original point of how hard it could be to cross the gender border. Exceedingly difficult at times to be sure, but excitingly natural as I was doing it.

Wherever you are on your path to a better tomorrow, I hope you can discover your truth and make it in one piece. As always, thank you for reading and comments are always appreciated!

 

Buckle Up....It's the Transgender Law

 

Image from Milada Vigerova
on UnSplash.

As any of you transgender women or transgender men already know, it’s time for you to buckle up for a rough and bumpy ride along the way. To coin a term used in Ohio commercials, “Buckle up, It’s the Law”. To which I added, it is the transgender law.

It all begins early in life when we learn we have gender issues to work out of. Then we must go through the cruel reality which fully sends us into masculine bodies we wanted nothing to do with. Or the opposite for trans men. In my case, I had no need for all the muscles, angles and hair my body was adding, but there they were and I had to buckle up for a lifetime of sometimes unpleasant experiences.

Adding to the problems, many of will not survive puberty as femininized boys or masculine girls but at least the “tomboy” label can get girls by. When they want to play with the boys, which is frowned upon if you are a boy wanting to play with the girls. In my case, I remember Christmas when I wanted a baby doll and received a BB Gun instead. Hear I was stuck in a life I never wanted. I had to buckle down to change it more than anything else I ever wanted to do.

Not being a feminine boy worked wonders for me as a boy around the bullies at school but was a difficult pill to swallow during my early days of trying to look like a pretty girl in the mirror at home. Back then, I could have never imagined all the work I would have to put in to shake my male external image. It would be so much more than just learning to apply cosmetics correctly or finding a feminine wardrobe which would fit me.

What I started to do was take better care of my skin by using good moisteners I could sneak past my wife and then started a crash diet in which I used to buy better fitting clothes in the thrift stores I was haunting, looking for bargains. It worked because I began to be able to present more effectively in the shopping malls I was going to. Which I never thought I could earlier when I was laughed out of them. By then, society was changing or I was because the teen girls who used to harass me began to leave me alone. But only when I was able to femininize myself to the point of almost blending in with the rest of the ciswomen I encountered. I considered it step one to achieve if I was ever able to make it to my goal of being a functional transfeminine person. Or, I had to at least look the part the best I could. It turned out that was going to be the easy part for me and I had better buckle up for what was coming up ahead for me.

Step two it turned out was going to be the longest step I would have to take, as I finally entered the world as a trans woman and started working for my future. Following several false starts and in-advised adventures. By ill-advised, I mean the nights I was asked to leave several redneck venues I went to just to see if I could. I did not make it and got asked to leave, which I did with no incident as I continued to settle into a life I respected, and it respected me as I began to carve out a new existence. The only way I did make it through this step was to consider every failure as a learning experience to never try again. I was fortunate that several of my experiences turned out to be potentially dangerous situations that a ciswoman would know from experience to try to stay away from. Such as dark city streets late at night and huge cross-dresser toxic admirers in small hallways at a party I was at.

During stage two, it would have been certainly better to learn from what ciswomen told me than trying to find out for myself. It was all part of my effort to see if I really wanted to step aside from all the male privileges I had learned and start all over across the gender border to find out if the grass was greener on the feminine side. Which is what stage three would teach me, as I had to buckle up for the first time in my life for circumstances beyond my control such as death and dying around me. For some reason, I had always thought I would be the first to die because of the destructive lifestyle I was leading but I was very wrong.

Death and dying meant that my wife of twenty-five years along with four close friends all would pass away ahead of me with a short two-to-three-year span. Knocking me into a deep depression, and a battle with loneliness. I had gone from being a very shy person in my early life to being a very social one and I did not want to go back. But the problem was, I had never had an easy time making friends with other men as a man, how would I ever do it as a woman. The answer was quite easy when I began to live it. I found I naturally interacted with women much easier once I was playing in their sandbox, and I became very social again. Which in turn brought out more of my feminine self but first, I had to summon the courage to buckle up and put myself out into the world.

It all worked for me and took me to stage four in my life. The stage where all my challenges seemed to disappear temporally. Many times, life still caught up with me, and I had to do my best to stifle my old male urges. But them again there were still many parts of my male life I needed to bring with me. I could not live for half a century without doing so. I guess you could compare my stage four to a giant-sized kitchen mixer when I needed desperately to turn out a quality product.

It was certainly never easy to buckle down and live a radical new life as a transgender woman for me. It was especially difficult to do since I was very much an easy-going person and learning about a new life was an interesting experience. If I was going to give any advice, I would say expect a dose of the worst and embrace the doses of the other. One way or another buckle up for your new life.

 

 

 

When Life Hands You Panty Hose

 

Image from Garin Chadwick
on Unsplash.

As transgender women, we find when life hands us panty hose, we better wear them.

In my case at least, I had an early love of wearing hose after I was able to borrow my mom’s electric razor and shave the unwanted hair off my male legs. Which puberty had gifted me with when I was not looking. Ironically, if the truth is known, I was probably shaving my legs ahead of many of the girls in school I admired so much. I say that because if my mom had the daughter she always wanted, she would not have let me shave my legs and wear makeup as early as I did.

During my early love affair with Hose, I discovered how frail they could be as I ran many pairs of my mom’s collection which she never mentioned to me. Since I was earning a meager amount of weekly income from my paper route, I discovered buying panty hose was within my reach if I could just discover the size and shade which fit me the best. I could go to the corner small department store, gather my courage and be able to buy a new pair of panty hose and an item of cosmetics and still have a little left over to save for my next cross-dressing adventure.

Since I was buying my own supplies, I felt less guilty about searching for clothes in my mom’s wardrobe which still barely fit me as I had less chances of being caught. But the new problem I was having was where I could hide my growing collection of feminine belongings where my family would not find them. Especially, my slightly younger brother. I even resorted to storing my overflow in plastic bags in an old hollowed out tree I found in the woods next door to my house. It was far from ideal, but I managed to have my privacy one way or another.

As I lived my life, I was still in my victim phase of wondering why I was the only boy I knew who was going through all the contortions I was going through to be a girl. Why could not I be “normal” like the rest of my friends. When they were thrown panty hose, they would promptly drop them like some sort of a hot potato. I on the other hand still enjoyed the electric feel of the feel of the material on my legs and how good my legs looked in the mini-skirted fashion of the day. Since I was told I had great legs at Halloween parties I went to, it was the ideal time to show them off with a pair of panty hose that I had just bought at a neighborhood convenience store. By this time, I was a pro at knowing just what I was looking for and always buying it with no problems.

Thankfully, I finally exited my victim phase of life and started to embrace and accept who I was thanks to a lifetime of cross-dressing. Since the term transgender had not been invented yet. By this time, I was entering the 1980’s with mini-skirts coming back in fashion along with the big hair. I loved the fashion of the day almost a much as I loved the old hippie days, I was largely deprived of because of my time in the Army. It was fun when I could look out for and adjust what I was wearing as a transgender woman, so I would continue to blend in with the ciswomen around me. Evolving with the times also involved how I evolved as a transfeminine person because I had a lot of growing to do if I was ever going to make it to my dream.

I needed to go back and accept what I knew so long ago that much more than women’s clothes and makeup defined me as a person. I yearned to be the women I admired so much and had to figure out how to get there. Which involved more than the simplicity of being presented with panty hose and having the chance to wear them. What would I ever do about putting in the effort to live out a life, cross the gender border and successfully exist in the world with other ciswomen. I write extensively about the time it took me to peel back the layers I needed to cross on my gender journey to be allowed to be behind the gender curtain. Where I looked merely opened a few initial doors for me. An example was what happened when I observed I was the only woman in the room who was wearing hose at all. Somehow, fashion had come full circle in front of my eyes and every time I saw a woman wearing hose, I looked closer to see if she was a cross-dresser.

As far as I am concerned now, my hose wearing days are almost over along with most of the women I am around. Sadly, I am into leggings and jeans now more than anything else because I do not go anyplace other than casual venues where I would be out of place if I dressed up so I have come full circle in my life once again. Life handed me panty hose initially and I embraced them totally before I moved on later down my gender road. However, the one fun thing you can do as a woman is embrace certain fashion styles the best you can. You are still not tied to the old restrictive male fashion code which evened to start to change also. Men now are even allowed to wear pink shirts, so who know what is in store for future men’s fashion. On the runways it is not uncommon to see a male model wearing woman’s clothes. Maybe someday, cismen will grow out of their frail sexuality, and the world will change with them.

In the meantime, I will always remember my beginning of a life of a discovery as a transgender woman. Life did not throw me any lemons, but it did throw me panty hose in an egg-shaped package. Which I used as a springboard to move on from there. I managed to proceed through a lifetime of gender discovery I used to come close to my dream. From there, woman friends of mine helped to push me across the line I was dreaming of. I was so fortunate to have had them to help me to yet another electric sensation. The of living an everyday life as a trans woman.

Thanks for reading along and making comments! Your input is always welcome as it helps me grow.

 

 

The Right Place but the Wrong Time

 

Image from Alexey Demindov 
on UnSplash.

Perhaps you remember the Dr. John song “Right Place, Wrong Time” from 1973. In his classic style, he bemoans being in the right place at the wrong time in his life.

Sometimes I think the song could be the theme of my life. To start with, I was born against all odds, seeing as how my parents had suffered through three stillbirths before I came along and survived. I was in the right place to thrive in a family who loved me, but I was in the wrong place when my gender was determined to be male. Something I could do nothing about for many years.

Without knowing it, I was being set up for all sorts of embarrassing scenarios in life running from my gender truth. Examples came fast and furious during my initial days of trying to go public with my cross-dressing desires. Way before I acquired the knowledge to blend in with the world as a feminine person. Being in the wrong place it seemed was a regular occurrence. Both my male and female egos were suffering from be stared at, all the way to putting up with out and out laughter.

At the same time, I was feeling deep down that I was in the right place at the right time anytime I cross-dressed as a woman. I had not realized at that time that along I was a woman cross-dressing as a man. Which would have saved me a tremendous amount of heartbreak in my life. In the meantime, I needed to be content with just following my gender path the best I could, being aware of the many blind curves and stop signs I would run into. Such as the times when I was learning the proper etiquette that I needed to use the women’s restroom. For the most part, I did well with very little pushback except on rare occasions I remember to this day. The worst one that I always recall was the night a ciswoman followed me into the room and started calling me a pervert when all I was doing was trying to do my business in piece. Fortunately, she was the exception rather than the rule and I never had to go through anything so dramatic such as that again. Except for the time I was on a bus tour through the deep south with my wife Liz and we stopped at a rest stop on the Alabama border.

I thought everything was going to be fine until I was washing my hands and turned to face two women glaring at me. I quickly thought that I was certainly in the wrong place until I stepped around both of them and headed as fast as I could for the bus. I was certainly in the right place to take care of my business and at the wrong time with those two women.

The more I went out in the world as a transgender woman, naturally, the more chances I had to climb out on my gender limb and take chances to see how I felt about being there. Every time I did not fall, my confidence grew stronger to put myself in more challenging situations. In the retail world, I got myself out of the clothing stores where I was a non-entity and went to the world of bookstores and coffee shops to see how I was accepted. At the same time, as I always mention, I left the gay bars I was going to all the time and went to straight venues to see if I would find myself in the right spot at the right time. I was overjoyed when I ended up as an accepted regular at several venues I chose where I could enjoy everything from the music to the beer and my sports on big screen televisions.

I was never raised to be happy or satisfied with anything I ever did, so I was surprised at how satisfied my life was becoming when I followed the correct gender path to becoming a full-fledged transfeminine person. Casually living my new life, the same as any other ciswoman would do it. I even discovered that I had been in the right place at the right time with my sexuality as I fell into a group of women who accepted me totally and being with a man was never anything I ever had to consider.

The more I did as a trans woman, the more I never wanted to do again as a man, so I stopped because I began to feel so awkward on the rare occasions, I needed to re-enter the male world I used to be so good in. In fact, I just hated going back. Which was the time that I started to get it through my stubborn head that I was never destined to be a man at all and my right place was as a woman.

 Once I arrived firmly in my right place there was no turning back. Out went the old male clothes to thrift stores and in came the daily routine of what I was going to wear in the feminine life I always dreamed of. It had been a difficult gender journey complete with approving and disapproving people in the world but somehow, I always seemed to separate the haters and TERFS (Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminists)  out, learn from them and move on. Common sense finally prevailed as I chose the only lane I could and stayed in it. Many times, it was my own lack of confidence which stopped me from taking the steps I needed to survive.

As I said, being in the wrong place at the right time did not have to be the theme of my life unless I let it. Once I corrected a lifetime worth of errors, I was able to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and it was not the train. My train was still coming to take me to a transgender dream life I never imagined I could live.

Thanks to all of you who take your precious time to read and comment on mine. Without you, none of this would be worth it.

 

 

 

Is It too Early for Halloween?

 

Early fall Image
JJ Hart

As I look around the neighborhood I live in, I see people putting up their Halloween decorations already.

Then I began to think of the supposed “good old days” when about this time in September that I was starting to seriously consider what “costume” I would wear and how could I maximize its use by going to as many parties as possible. It just did not seem fair to me that I had to wait for a once-a-year party to express my feminine side without the fear of retribution. The worse that could happen to me were the other women at the party asking me who helped me with my makeup and did I really shave my legs for one night.  I was learning a valuable lesson about how curious ciswomen could be when you cross the gender highway into their lane.

Basically, my biggest decisions came as I thought about which theme I would follow year to year if I was going to the same party. And how creative could I be with my “costume” Ironically, my first big attempt at dressing feminine at a Halloween party came when I was still in the Army in Germany, when I was invited by my future wife to go to a hospital’s party. I had a couple of other wild friends who had their costumes already picked out and were coming as various forms of the male and female anatomy. So, I thought it would be an ideal time to fall from my cross-dressing wagon that I had been forced to be on for two and half years and come as a trashy prostitute.

I do not remember now how I got the clothes I needed to complete my outfit, but I was able to put together a short mini dress, long blond wig, hose and heels for a very effective costume. Since I still had approximately six months to go in the Army at the time, I was happy that no one seemed to care that I was dressed as a woman at the party.

When I was discharged from my military duty, and Halloween rolled around, I had a different challenge to face with all the newfound freedom I had. One thing I did was get away from the prostitute look and try to find a way to find a “costume” like what a ciswoman would wear.  In other words, I wanted to go to the party and try to pass as another woman enjoying herself. During the first multi-party Halloween night I went to, I think I did well. I went as one of the French girls I had seen in Paris when I was in the Army and brought the look home with me. I paired a all-black outfit which featured black tights, mini skirt and leotard with my blond wig, red lipstick and topped it all off with black flats and a black beret.

I was having a very good time entertaining myself in one of the big local clubs I went to which was having a Halloween party when a guy in a full mask approached me and simply said “I know who you are.” At first, I needed to recover from his comment before he went on to say, “I know because you look just like your mom!” Then I knew who he was and did not know whether to be flattered or not before he did not say anything else and went on his way. I did know I looked like mom but not that much.

From then on, I began to build my Halloween “costumes” from scratch and only used my many trips to thrift stores to help me with items for what I was going to wear. All I really knew was that I enjoyed my self immensely in my new world as a transgender woman and wanted to see if I could take it past the party scene and into reality. There would be other significant parties I will write about later, for now I had to learn if the build up to Halloween was totally worth it. I learned it truly was because of all the early lessons I would need to learn if I was ever going to decide to try to cross the gender border and live full-time as a transfeminine person.

I also realized that Halloween would be just the briefest thrill in what would be a long life of gender discovery. Would the overall gender euphoria of making it through the parties successfully be worth it when I had to crash back to reality and my increasingly boring male life. Plus, I found it was unbearable for me to just wait a whole other year to experience my feminine side again without me going out in public. I took my gender life into my own hands and began to explore the world in malls and outside in different venues such as bookstores which helped me build my confidence as a novice trans woman.

I went further, quicker than I ever thought I could and forever put Halloweens behind me as a necessity in life and more of a fun pursuit. In its place, I would be trying to carve out a brand-new feminine life of my own. It was the beginning of the most terrifying yet exciting time of my life. Mainly because I was stripped of all my old male protections and had to start all over again in a world where I did not know who to trust. Including myself because everything I knew was changing when I left the good old boys’ club for good and applied for membership in the girls’ club that I had so long waited to join. I was just at a point where I needed to convince ciswomen around me that I was serious and brought different qualifications to the feminine table. I had to suggest I was a woman too but just had been socialized a different way than they had been.

In many ways, Halloween was the earliest part of my socialization process thanks to the early interactions with ciswomen (and men) that I experienced. Immediately, I found that men I had known for years ignored me as a potential cross-dresser or whatever they thought I was. It did not matter. I was out of the club.  While at the same time, women I had known for years were curious about me. Lessons that had carried with me well in the learning years to come.

That is why I will forever miss the early excitement I felt around my early Halloween parties and why I still feel the fun I felt when I see the neighbors putting up their decorations early. Who knows, there may be a person in the family with gender issues also.

 

 

 

 

 

Torn Between Two Lovers

 

Image from Hanna Lazar
on UnSplash. 

There is nothing romantic when you are being torn between two lovers if you are a transgender woman or a transgender man.

For me at least, I would never have wished for the ripping and tearing I suffered from the gender dysphoria I suffered from on my worst enemy. Waking up each morning wondering which gender I would be today was certainly no walk in the park. if I did take a walk in the park, it would be a mental one, and I would be chased by my demons.

As I write about extensively, I was stuck in my dark lonely gender closet as I felt as if I was the only one in the world who felt the same way I did. It was back before the internet and social media days and any information on gender issues was difficult to come by or out and out false. For the longest time, I just did not know where I fit in the world as a man who wanted to be a woman.

The tearing became even worse when one of my identities started to surge ahead of the other. It happened when my daughter was born and I had to get much more serious about how I was going to build a career as a man. Only to be ripped back when I viewed myself as a trans woman in front of the mirror. I only had the annual Halloween parties to get out of my closet and see what the world would be all about if I had the chance to live my dream of going full-time.

The thing about dreams is that they are a long way from reality. Reality meant I needed to go a very long way to learn about what I was trying to achieve. Back in those days, the term transgender woman was brand new and barely used, so I was surprised when I discovered it and it fit me so well. Keep in mind that I could only refer to myself as a transvestite because I knew I was not ready to use the transsexual label then or ever. If I had the will power to go through the major gender realignment surgeries of the time, I certainly did not have the insurance coverage or the financial resources to do it myself. Again, I was just stuck between two genders, but at the least I had a label now for who I was.

The ripping and tearing managed to become even worse when I began to improve my feminine presentation to the point where I could blend in with the world of ciswomen around me. Every time it happened, my male self would become upset because he was losing his hold on my life. As it was becoming increasingly evident that someday, I would have to choose between my two very serious gender lovers.

At the same time, I was trying everything to maintain my already fragile mental health by going to therapists. By doing so, I was able to learn what being bi-polar depressed meant and why I was suffering from it. All along, I was blaming my severe depression on my gender issues when I had other often more pressing issues. At the same time, I was ignoring facts from my therapist that she could do nothing about me wanting to be a woman. It turned out to be my truth that I refused to follow. Instead, I tried to move on. Going the wrong way on a one-way gender street. Dodging the sometimes-toxic public became too much of me until I began to give up totally on my male side and concentrate on living my dream of being a transfeminine person.

I never labored under the idea that my life in the world as a trans woman would be easy but I never bargained for the complexity of the new life I was facing. It seemed that every time I was able to overcome one obstacle on my path, something new would appear to take its place. Like never before, I had to really listen to what people were telling me, so I would miss nothing in the conversation. I found that trying to live in a world of ciswomen meant more than just looking the part. I needed to be the part too. Always before as a man, it was easy for me as a man to zone out in conversations and then catch up when I wanted to, but impossible when I began communicating one on one with other women.

Of course, my male side always hated losing, and every time my female side showed any victories, he hated it and fought back harder. As he was trying everything, he knew how to maintain what was left of his life. To placate him, I would try to do as many male things I could such as drinking with the few true male friends he had left. The problem was even he was beginning to feel alienated from his old friends as they started to pass away from cancer. At the same time, my feminine self was very successful in carving out a new life she could sustain as well as feeling so natural doing it. It was becoming obvious as the ripping and tearing (and even a large part of my depression) began to go away that I had chosen the right path to take on my gender journey.

At the same time, I began to consider attempting to get approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT. First through an independent doctor and then through the Veterans Administration healthcare system which had just approved it. It was as if the long-closed doors which were preventing me from living my transgender dream were suddenly swinging wide open. From then on, the only ripping going on was over what male baggage I could not take with me into my new life. My male clothes were given to charity as I built up my wardrobe for a new everyday experience as a transgender woman. It was a terrific weight off my shoulders.

My hope for you I that you can overcome your inner turmoil faster than I did by facing your truth. Thanks for reading and commenting!

 

 

Just Me

JJ Hart

Years ago, when I started to write a “blog”, I barely even knew what one was. I was urged on by a close online acquaintance that I had met on another site that I cannot recall now or even know if it is still in existence. My friend has long since faded away and I hope she is still with us at all as she had health problems when I met her.

What I remember the most is the number of entitled transgender women who were “post op” (had gone through some sort of gender surgery) and felt that they were better than the “pre opt” trans women who had no surgeries at all. They were for the most part very nasty and we referred to them as “Trans-Nazi’s”. At that time, I had several very in-depth experiences I shared, and my friend told me I had enough to share with the world. So, I did and to this day, I am still writing.

Years ago, I made a pledge to myself to try to help others with my writing because for the most part, we share very similar yet difficult lives. Over the years, I have been able to share all sorts of experiences such a the “Blue Coat” I cherished so much in a store but was never able to buy because the finances could not handle it. I so loved that coat, that I was overjoyed every time I went back to that store and it was still there. Actually, it was pale blue, full length, wool, and I thought it fit perfectly with my long blond wig and black silky pants suit. I was there so much that I thought the staff would notice the tall blond trying on the same coat time after time without ever buying it. Because she was just wasting mirror time admiring herself, but they never did and finally I just had to give up on having the coat of my dreams.

Maybe I should have felt guilty about my one-sided obsession to be an attractive trans woman without the help of any surgeries. Plus, at the same time keep my long term marriage alive by going against all the transgender theories of the day which said you had to go away, have gender realignment surgery and start all over again in a totally new life. I was too stubborn for that and wanted to do it my way with one foot firmly planted in two gender worlds, male when I worked or was with my wife and female when I was not and was going to the diverse social parties I was attending in nearby Columbus, Ohio. I loved them because I never knew who I was going to meet there and they could be anywhere on the gender spectrum from lesbians to feminine transsexual women headed for their surgery.

Even with the wide range of gender diversity I ran into, I still could not get over the fact that I still did not fit in yet with any of the groups I interacted with. Ironically, I did learn how well I interacted with the lesbians who attended the parties which set the stage for my future belief that I firmly was not into men but still enjoyed my time with ciswomen and we got along.

From Columbus, so to speak, I took my going out show on the road and begin exploring more frequently venues that I had always wanted to go to as a transgender woman. As I was busy kicking open my closet door, I was learning more and more about the resilient new me. I started to write about my good and bad experiences in the straight world I wanted to be in as I left the safety of the gay venues behind me. The safety I am referring to was sacrificing always being known as just another queen to trying my best to be accepted on a bigger stage in straight venues I enjoyed going to as a man. Then, I started to write about which male baggage (such as sports) I could possibly bring with me. At the time, as well as now, I added how important it was to judge your surroundings to determine what other ciswomen were doing. I have always tried to emphasize how important it is to not bring any negative attention to yourself as I used to do by trying to cross-dress provocatively when I first entered the world.

Speaking of the world. It began to open for me when I began to blend in with my target audience which were women. At that point I started to write about being allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox and being allowed behind the magic gender curtain that I cherished so much that I was willing to risk all the male privileges I had worked so hard for to get there. The more experienced I became in my new feminine world I became, the more important it became for me to write about when I knew it was time to pull the plug on my male life. The key for me was that my transition always felt so natural for me, and my only regret was that it took me so long to do it.

I also went through the who I am to give advice on part of my writing experience. From comments I received all the way to just realizing my thoughts were as relevant as anyone else’s, I forged ahead through years of writing. Making sure that my writings were grounded by the realities I had such as the days I spent with my friends at the monthly lesbian mixers I always went to with them. Or the “Andy Warhol” exhibit I went to with transgender friends back in Columbus at Ohio State University and how I needed to be careful not to come off sounding like a trans-nazi myself after I wrote about a group of drunken cross-dressers trashing a women’s restroom in a gay bar we went to after the exhibit. Rightfully so, after the restroom incident, lesbians in the bar got the rest of us banned from using the women’s room. I was trying to hide my disdain for what the cross-dressers did because I was not far removed from being a very serious cross-dresser myself. The last thing I ever wanted to do was put myself up on any sort of pedestal.

Since now, I have followed my life’s curves and transitions, at the age of seventy-seven I have transitioned into my true transfeminine self-fulltime and thanks to my wife Liz having been living my dream life since I was sixty. Transitioning with Liz made me feel like the real me which had always been missing was the final piece of the puzzle.

Hopefully, I still have many healthy years to write about my experiences in my quest to help others with similar gender issues.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

Transgender Journey...Down but Not Out

 

Image from Alexander Grey
on UnSplash.

As transgender women and transgender men, it is easy to feel down and out as we try to navigate our new gender paths.

As I sometimes look back on my journey, it is easy to remember the good times and forget the bad. The most important thing about reliving the bad is having the appreciation for the world I am able to live in today as a fulltime trans woman. Every time I make simple trips in the world to the doctor’s, the Veterans Administration or the pharmacy, I always have to look back at remembering the not so good old days when I was struggling for acceptance. Either one of a couple things has happened. Either I have become better at my overall feminine presentation (wrong) or my confidence has taken me to a point where I don’t particularly care what the world thinks about me.

Either way, I look back to when I considered myself a very serious cross-dresser as I still was researching which fork in my gender path would I take. Back in those days, I took hours to prepare for an outing in the world, and I often wondered what I would do if I had to go out in the world everyday and compete with ciswomen everywhere. It was easy at that time to put those thoughts behind me as I was so obsessed with my feminine looks that my second wife kept calling me the “Pretty, pretty, princess.”  Naturally I loved the “pretty” part but rejected the “princess” part of her very pointed critique of me. One day, she even went as far as separating appearance from being a true woman for me when we were fighting about me wanting to go out. It was one of my all-time down moments when she told me I made a terrible woman. It hurt because I was not trying to make anything, I was just trying to express my true self, but I could not properly put my thoughts in a form she would understand.

I guess you could say, back then, I was definitely in my mental transgender formative years when my mind was trying to catch up with all the cross-dressing I was doing. Sadly, before I could formulate what a better version of my transgender self would be, all I experienced was an extreme amount of frustration. I could not understand what I was doing wrong when I was being successful in situations such as transgender-cross dresser mixers I was going to. The problem was the extreme gender euphoria I experienced at the mixers when I was mistaken for a ciswoman was not worth the resultant crash and depression, I felt when my life went back to its same old boring male self.

It all resulted in me being boxed into rarely getting out of my gender closet to explore the world and I was moody, resentful and not the easiest person to live with as I tried to internalize my gender feelings from my wife. A prime example was one year when we took a vacation from our native Ohio to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. On the trip up there, I progressively grew more depressed and mean until my wife asked me what was going on since I was supposed to be having a good time on vacation. Predictably, I lied my way out of it and did not tell her the truth that I rather be spending my vacation time as a woman rather than a man.

Somehow, I pulled myself back together and the vacation continued without incident, but I remember it as another low point. Little did I know at that time, destiny would finally come back to me on my gender path, and I would get my wish to go on extensive vacations as a transfeminine person.

Along the way, I have had many other low points which I write about often. Such as when a woman called me a pervert for simply using the women’s room in a venue, I had been a regular patron of for a long time and had no one say anything negative to me at all. Then much earlier than that when I was struggling to blend in with the world at all, there were all the stares and even laughter I needed to put up with on my journey to present. I was reduced to tears more times than I care to remember mainly by groups of teen girls struggling to find their own femininity. I was certainly at a low point when all of this was happening to me, and I did not have the tools yet to know which way to turn. All I had was this little voice in the back of my head telling me to keep going and my low points would disappear.

All of it did go away for a while until I hit my dark age when nearly everyone I cared about decided to die within a two-year period. The group included my second wife and three of my closest male friends. Who were the only ones I had. To add to my low point, I was desperately lonely and ended up relying on that little voice who at this time was growing louder and more insistent that she had all the answers for me. This time, I had very few other alternatives to fall back on. As one person told me after I had lost my restaurant along to everything else, you will land on your feet. Not knowing my feet would be in high heels when I did it.

I am sure that everyone’s lives have its share of highs and lows and I can not say a transgender woman or trans man lows would be even more dramatic, but it seems possible because we have so much to lose as we pick up our lives and move them across the gender border. Until we find ourselves living behind the gender curtain where we always wanted to me.

Hopefully if you are in the midst of a low time, you have a little voice telling you everything will be OK. If not, remember life is but a circle and what is down will eventually come up.

As always thanks for reading along and comments are always welcome.