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.

 

 

 

It Was Always a Challenge

 

Image from Dwayne Joe
on UnSplash.

As a boy and onward to manhood, I had plenty of challenges to be sure of. Early on, my challenges were in athletics where I had very little natural ability, except for a passion to play ball of any sort.

On the positive side, my love for sports kept the bullies away for the most part and on the negative side, I lost a lot when I played. In the meantime, my feminine side beckoned and I was challenged even more because once again, I was not blessed with very little ability to present well as a girl. Testosterone tore my body up and produced many results that I did not want such as a bigger body and hairy legs and arms. Not good for a boy who wanted to be a girl as the major goal in her life.

At that time, I did not realize how complex my life would become when I decided much later to pursue the life of a transgender woman. How would I ever maintain a marriage as well as a successful career as a man that I was expected to do, if I wanted to be a woman at the same time. It was the beginning of an intense amount of pressure that I needed to live with as it became part of my permanent baggage when at the time, I was trying my best to minimize my life. Especially when I was in the military and almost everything I owned was being shipped home, on my back or in my duffel bag. I would never be free of entanglements in my life that I had then.

Then, even if I was trying not to add more baggage, life set in when I was discharged from the Army and marriage as well as my first and only child were quickly coming my way. All along I was conflicted about the new challenges I faced, I had set up basic guardrails in my life such as telling my first wife I was a confirmed cross-dresser or transvestite at the time and trying to use birth control which ended up failing on me which I will not go into.

I suppose I had no choice but to accept the new life challenges I faced with parenthood and trying to build a career for her and my small family as I moved along. It was what I was supposed to do, and I was trying to meet the demands of doing it. What I never counted on was the strength of my feminine inner self. She was always demanding more and I was on the verge several times of responding to her call when I had very little other male baggage to deal with. But I did not and went on to struggle with my gender dysphoria the best I could by internalizing it. The only release I ever had was cross-dressing in front of the mirror for my own pleasure as I dreamed how it would be to live a life as a trans woman.

A well-known path out for me became the exciting Halloween parties I could go to in my favorite costume…as a woman of course. The parties showed me I could begin to exist on my own terms as the person I always dreamed of being. If I answered the challenge to do it. If I had the courage to present myself to friends as a woman, could I ever decide to do it as another avenue out of my closet and into the world. While I was at the first Halloween parties I went to, the more I learned of the basics of being in a new exciting yet scary world where I always wanted to be.

I learned quickly that cismen around me would avoid me completely, while ciswomen asked me questions about who did my makeup and how did I gather the courage to shave my legs for my “costume”.  Later on, I used the basics I learned from the parties I went to when I tried to meet the challenge of being out with other women who wanted to communicate with and were still curious why I would want to meet the challenge of being in their world. By this time, I was becoming more confident in my true feminine self that the thrill of going to Halloween parties disappeared.

Just because the parties went away and my confidence increased did not mean that the challenges I was facing went away with it. I needed to face the complexities of living a life as a transfeminine person head on if I was ever going to be successful, I needed to communicate with a world which wanted to know more about me for the first time and it was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life. It was the time I had always dreamed of when I could finally put the mirror behind me and put the total new me into motion. When another woman came at me with questions, I was there to answer hers and was beginning to be able to ask her questions of my own by looking her directly in the eye and doing it.

The only advice about overcoming the communication challenges you will face in the world I have is to somehow get out of your closet and experience what is going on firsthand. By doing that, you can let your own unique personality out into the world and leave your unwanted baggage behind you if you are a transgender woman or a transgender man. The same rules apply, just in different gender worlds you must live in and react to. If you do not answer your challenges and try your best to get out of your closet, you will make yourself a victim and never do it.

Also, the only warning I have is depending on where you live, know the anti-transgender laws and attitudes you will be facing and plan ahead accordingly. Remember you can not rely upon the old male security privileges you used to have and find yourself in a dangerous situation. Ciswomen are raised to be careful of potentially toxic situations and avoid them too.

You can also use your challenges as a mini-bucket list and move on after you have accomplished one goal. It is a relatively easy way to manage your male to female or female to male transition.

Good luck with your challenges and thanks for reading along. I appreciate you and any comments you may have!

 

Just Another Lonely Day

Image from Jarge Johansen
on UnSplash.

Throughout most of my life, I was desperately lonely, as I had no one to fall back on as I explored my gender issues.

Growing up in a rural area, I started with just a
small circle of kids I interacted with and it rarely grew significantly, so again I was stuck with why I felt the way I did about myself. All I knew was I had a difficult time interacting with the boys at all and the girls seemed as if they were some unreachable magical creatures I knew nothing about.  While all of this was happening, all I could do was carve out my own little world where I was a pretty girl in front of the mirror in mom’s clothes and makeup.

Little did I know how those humble cross-dressing beginnings would come back to influence my life later. In fact, forever. As I grew, I became more skilled in using makeup and finding clothes which I could fit into when I outgrew moms. Then, the more I cross-dressed, the more I wanted to. Which did nothing for my extreme loneliness. It seemed to me; I would never find a way out and really did not until I hit my late high school and college days. What happened was, a group of girls at high school learned that a friend of theirs did not have a date to the junior prom and I did not either and matched us up for the evening. After a successful date, I was not so lonely when another friend of mine set me up with a single girl he knew and suddenly, I was a socialite as I entered college. In truth, deep down I was still the deeply conflicted person I always had been.

Amazingly, my early college years were so intense that I forgot about my gender issues for six months or so before they crept back in. When they did, they became as intense as they were before I left for college and stayed that way until they were put on my back burner when the military draft caught up to me when I graduated. For a while I was engaged to a woman I knew from college until she left me just before I was due to report to Ft. Knox for Army basic training leaving me completely alone again. When my fellow soldiers were getting mail from wives and girlfriends, I was getting an occasional letter from mom. At the least, I appreciated her efforts and once again I was back to being used to being intensely alone.

All along I wondered what my military time would do to my gender issues. Would they go away temporarily like they did in college or not was my question. The answer I was looking for did not take long to become evident to me. No my gender dysphoria was not going away and in fact, tools I had learned in the Army just made my dysphoria stronger. For example, I became more confident in myself as I had a better idea of what I could survive and I spent hours of what spare time I had daydreaming of what I would do with my feminine self once I had served my three years.

It was not very long after I was discharged that I gathered the courage to ask my first wife to marry me. Since she was in the Army too with me for over a year, she had witnessed my Halloween party costume at a hospital party we had went to with friends. Plus, my later confession to three friends plus her that I was actually a transvestite and my costume went a lot deeper than it looked. She also turned out later be the mother of my first and only child and the marriage did last several years until I fell madly in love with my second wife.

Oddly enough it was another Halloween party which allowed me to confess to her my deep dark secret that I was a cross-dresser. It turned out that she did not care which was the case for the twenty-five years we were married. Until I began to transition into a transgender woman. Just before she passed away from a massive heart attack. During those years we had our share of good times and bad times somehow, we always made it through, and she never knew how much of a role model she was to me when I went my separate way as a trans woman. Following her untimely death at the age of fifty.

When she passed, I went into a lonely shock I had not felt through the majority of my life. I could not understand why I was having to start all over again in my mid-fifties and search for another relationship. And furthermore, which direction would I take with the gender issues I had during my life. By this time, I was well ahead of my goal to possibly live as a transfeminine person. I had major decisions to make in my life, so I kept on searching for answers. To start with, I tried dating ciswomen again as a man which failed miserably and at the same time, get more serious in my explorations ss a trans woman which I found to be a natural social release for me.

By the time a couple more years of wasting valuable time went by, I was sitting by myself enjoying my new company and I thought why was I not living like this all the time? How stupid could I be not to take advantage of what I had learned in the world so far as a transgender woman. Most importantly, my lifetime’s dream of living as a woman was within reach, and I was not taking advantage of it.

From that point forward I put together a timetable to give away my remaining male clothes and pursue HRT therapy. There would be no turning back from that point forward. I was tired of the gender struggle and loneliness I was enduring. I was afraid if I did not make the change now, I never would have the chance.

You might say I played the odds and they came out in my favor but on the other hand, I researched the odds extensively before I did it.

 

 

 

Finding Your Trans North Star in a Straight World

 

Image from Daniel Lincoln 
on UnSplash

As most all transgender women and transgender men know, finding your own personal North Star is often very difficult to do.

The first thing you have to consider is what your North Star means to you and down the road, what will you do to follow it. Very early on in my life, I knew the only thing I wanted to really do when I grew up wanting not to be in the male body I was born into. It turned out after fifty plus years of trying; I was able to make it mentally out of my male body and live as a transfeminine woman but never seriously considering undergoing any of the serious and extensive gender realignment surgeries which are going on today. At the time, I figured I did not have to risk my body which to this day has been healthy and just concentrate on the physical feminine side of life I enjoyed so much. Or my gender stayed between my ears and not my legs. Which started me down a very long path trying to discover what my North Star meant to me and where it was exactly.

The problems which clouded my view came almost exclusively from my male self-fighting the process of a male to female femininization every place that he could. He took a secret joy when I was laughed out of venues I was in as I was dressing to please him and not the public who really mattered which were ciswomen who determined if I could stay in their world at all. What he did not count on was that the stares and laughter just made me more resolute searching for my feminine self.

As I went along, I discovered even the most strenuous male activities could not mask the shine of my inner feminine star. Not even three years in the army could hide her glow when it counted. In fact, lessons I learned when I was away from my true self helped me when I could return seriously to my gender path. Most importantly, I learned I could rely upon myself more completely when the times became rough. Sadly, it took me years of living to learn a woman could be feminine and strong all at the same time as my two-role model’s mom and second wife taught me to be. Without ever knowing they were dealing with another woman. Much to the chagrin of my inner woman who wanted her chance in the world.

And yes, there were times that my North Star was completely lost in the clouds before I could completely reclaim her. Such as the time when I was stuck transitioning from a serious cross-dresser to a novice transgender woman. It turned out, it was only another mental transition because at this time, I had most all my appearance basics together and I was ready to experiment on the next step of mentally comparing myself as I socialized with other ciswomen. Following much fear and trepidation, I found that I could and more importantly, I felt natural and happy doing it. My star was shining brightly when I made it out of the comparative safety of the gay venues I was going to (where I was only considered to be another drag queen) to straight venues in the world where I could express myself as a trans woman.

I discovered that once I reclaimed my star, I reclaimed my life too. I was on the verge of reclaiming the life I was so unhappy in and turning it into an existence which restored my fragile depressive mental health and gave me a reason to be happy. Probably, for the first time in my life. But I still had a long way to go, because my male self stubbornly refused to give up all the privileges he had earned and was fighting for at least a partial share of my life. It did not matter to him that I felt happy and natural when I was a trans woman, carving out a new life with new privileges for myself. Such as constant interaction with ciswomen who were interested why I was in their world. I finally quit trying to figure it out and learned to sit back and enjoy the socialization process I was going through. As I was learning as much from them as they were about me. It all made me a better person as I continued to carve out a new life for myself.

Thankfully, my North Star continued to burn brightly for me during this time of my life. I needed the guidance of the star to help me navigate any more blind curves along my gender path that I was on. I never counted on the new life being so much more complex than the old straight forward male life I was discontinuing due to lack of interest. From appearance to body movement to communication, I needed to change it all, and I felt I was running out of time since I was in my mid-fifties, and my biological transgender clock was ticking. It all kept me going and interested to see what was beyond the next blind curve I would have to face on my gender journey.

By this time my North Star was starting to sink into the horizon of a new day for me as it guided me forward into my new day. As it faded, I was able to sit back and appreciate all the good things it had sent me through in my life, as well as helping me around some of the bad ones I needed help with. By following the star, I was able to finally make it to the dream I never knew I could do and that of course was being able to live a happy life as a transgender woman.

Even during my dark days of infantry basic training in the Army at Ft. Knox, my North Star came through and helped me see the way to overcome my gender shortcomings which turned out to be temporary. Permanence turned out to be the ability to follow and live out my dream.

As always thanks for reading along and I hope you have a North Star to guide you also through the thick and thin days of a transgender life.

 

 

 

 

Loving What You Do as a Trans Woman is Never Work

 

JJ Hart Doing Transgender Outreach. 

Perhaps you have heard the old saying about hard work. It goes something like this... If you love what you do, it is never work. Anyway, I looked at it, the phrase really fit my life as a transgender woman or an early cross-dresser.

Even though, early on it was hard work finding one of mom’s dresses I could still fit into and not rip apart in the seams, I still tried it. As I grew into a more mature version of my feminine self, I learned my work to transform myself into the woman I was always meant to be was not going to be an easy task as testosterone poisoning was ravaging the body I wanted to have as a girl during male puberty. While the girls around me were developing the curves I wanted, all I got was a larger angled male body I hated. If I wanted to continue, my path was cut out for me, and it was not going to be an easy one to follow. I would have to make it a labor of love to ever succeed.

The first thing I needed to do was find feminine clothes that fit me, and at the same time disguised my male body with my large torso, broad shoulders and narrow hips. Plus, I had the extra problem of look really liking the feminine shape wear I need to wear to suggest I had hips when I cross-dressed as a woman. It was always too restrictive for me to enjoy and I was not careful; the restrictions went as far as hurting my chances of success in a women’s restroom setting. If you know what I mean. What I did was make extensive use of pieces of foam which I wore under my panty hose to give me the illusion of hips under the skirts and leggings I wore back in those days. I remember spending day upon day of destroying foam rubber pieces until I thought I got them just right. That solved the hip problem partially so I could concentrate on my all-important breasts.

To advance my presence in the world as a transgender woman, having the proper breasts was another labor of love and at times a comedy show. Before the advent of easily obtainable silicone breast forms, I tried a number of ill-fated ideas to give myself the proper breasts which fit the size of my body but were not too big and looked like I came from a circus somewhere. Before my first silicone breasts were gifted to me by a purging cross-dresser friend of mine who was getting rid of all his feminine belongings, I tried exotic ideas such as bird seed and water balloons. Water balloons I liked because they warmed to the temperature of my body and did a realistic job of looking like real breasts in the bras I wore at the time.

All along, I knew on the negative side, I was taking a big chance using water balloons for breast forms because they can easily break. And of course, the worst-case scenario happened to me one night when one of my balloons broke in public. Luckily, I was going to the women’s room anyhow and it was empty so I could clean up and head back home to end my love affair with water balloons as breast forms forever.

As I put all this concentration into making my transfeminine better, I was concentrating less on my male life. Although it was a labor of love for me, it was not for my second wife who grew tired of my obsession to be an attractive woman and told me I was missing the whole point of being feminine. It was not to be obsessed with makeup and clothes; it was being able to slide behind the gender curtain and see how ciswomen’s lives really play out. It did not take many times of being called a terrible woman for me to drop what I was doing, change course and try to find out what she was trying to tell me. Then I found myself in a “Catch 22” of sorts because if no one would allow me to play in the girls’ sandbox how would I ever learn to do it. It was like the job interviews I went to, where they told me I did not have enough experience but would not give me a chance to work for them and gain the experience.

I finally had to stop being the victim and head out into the world to discover what my wife was talking about. If indeed I was a terrible woman, I need to correct that and move forward. It was then I went on a collision course with myself to determine what I really wanted in life. Did I want to be the successful man I was becoming or have the chance to live out my dream living in a ciswoman’s world.

The labor of love that I entered involved me having to learn what a ciswomen’s life was all about. I knew it was going to be quite the change to learn a new scary complex world, but I was not prepared for the barrage of information I needed to deal with. It seemed that half the women I met wanted to interact with me and find out what I was doing In itself, interaction was not bad if I was ready for it. Which I was not. I had to go on a crash course in understanding my communication with women like I had never known before. I was used to listening to ciswomen the way cismen always to by hearing only what they want to hear and ignoring the rest. Woman, on the other hand, have so many nuances in their communication that I had a lot to learn. But again, it was a labor of love for me and no work at all. If I had put that much work into my college studies, I would have finished with a four-point average. It showed me where my priorities in life really were.

From the first time I tried to experiment with mom’s makeup to living the life I live today, my male to female gender transition was never any work because I loved doing it.

I also love writing for you in the hope I can help you along in your life’s journey. Thanks for reading along and any comments are always appreciated.

 

 

 

 

 

When My Tomorrow Became my Today

JJ Hart

My desires to always look like a pretty girl early in life led me to always be a tomorrow person.

 I always thought that somehow tomorrow I could get a real wig, nicer clothes and more makeup which would help with my feminine transformation. I guess you could say that the whole process made me into quite the dreamer as I sat in school and envied the girls around me in their pretty clothes I could not have. At least today but maybe not tomorrow if any of my dreams came true.

Soon I discovered that dreams never came true on their own and would take an enormous amount of work on my part to make a dream happen. Especially once as complex as crossing the gender border to live a transfeminine life. I often wonder if I would have had an ounce of foresight into how difficult I was going to have it; would I have ever undertaken such a crazy path to begin with. One which would completely consume all the spare energy I could use.

The first problem I had to conquer in my feminine life was my often-frustrating attempts to look like a woman and not some sort of a clown in drag at the circus. I found I was setting the bar way too high in my appearance standards as there was never going to be a day when I could match the prettiest women I envied. I just needed to blend in with the rest of the ciswomen in the world just going about their everyday lives. It took me many painful attempts at presenting properly as a trans woman before I got it right and was able to move around in the world without causing any undue attention to myself. When I did, I was happy to stay in the present until my brief gender euphoria went away. As I crashed from the euphoria of living as myself, I was bitter, nasty and tried to take my frustrations out on the world of ciswomen around me. Why could not I be like them and live in their world held me back in mine, so I kept dreaming about the next time I could I could live my dream in the world fully cross-dressed as a woman.

The good part was that all along I was becoming better in my presentation as a woman and was finding it easier to cross the gender border. The bad part was once I did it, I wanted to stay and not go back to the male I was living. It was then that my todays became longer, and my tomorrows seemed further away. My new mentors became the established transgender women I had met at the socials I was going to in nearby Columbus, Ohio. They had crossed border and were living successful lives and I wanted to learn more about how they did it. What I learned was that every trans person’s journey was different and it was rarely ever easy. All I ever knew was that every time I was accepted into their circle, I felt natural and wanted to learn more about them.

As I look back on it, the one thing the mentors had on me was their natural beauty which I never had, so I had to keep putting my tomorrow off until I found out I could do a male to female transformation my own way. Or out of sheer willpower as I had a transwoman friend of, mine tell me in a straight bar we were in one night. By this time, I had given up on any natural feminine beauty I might have and made my tomorrow become my today by using other strengths ciswomen bring to the table when they don’t happen to share the extreme passing gene that some women have. They go on to lead fun and fulfilling lives by tuning out all the demands to be beautiful they hear. That is what I had to do because for sure ciswomen come on all shapes and models and I could certainly find a group I could fit in with. Which in my case, happened to be lesbians.

I was really seeking out the company of lesbians so to speak; I just happened to stumble across their culture at a small lesbian venue I started to go to as well a through a bartender at a big sports bar I used to go to who introduced me to her mom. Through it all, I knew the next step for me was to become more feminine by using HRT or gender affirming hormones. My approval to take the hormones focused my tomorrow so much I could not wait to get there. I changed during the time I was socializing with my new lesbian friends who took me to watch sports as well as big lesbian mixers. I was having the time of my life as my tomorrow was rapidly becoming my today.

Maybe most importantly, my friends helped me to validate myself as who I was really was as the subject of my past life as a man never came up. They did not want to know, and I did not want to bring it up as I was just appreciating my spot in my new present as a transfeminine person.

The final touches in my today came when my daughter accepted me totally and I met my current wife of over a decade Liz. They helped rid myself of any lingering doubts of how I should live my life. Over my gender cliff I went into their soft arms and my gender tomorrow was gone for good.

My only passing regret was that it took me so long to face up to who I was always was as a full-fledged human being. There was no way I should have let it go as long as I did, I should have let tomorrow be my today. I was all wrong as I tried to cross-dress my pain away. My excuse is I was jinxed all along into leading a backwards gender life thinking I was a man trying to be a woman rather than the other way around. That way, I would have never let my todays and tomorrows get mixed up the way they did.

 

 

It Was All That and More

Tim Curry in the 
"Rocky Horror Picture Show"

It took me decades of living to finally achieve my dream of slipping behind the feminine gender curtain and staying there permanently. When I summoned the courage to do it, my feeling of gender euphoria was deep and permanent.

It turned out that all the dreams and hopes I had ever had over the years came to fruition. Largely with the help of a few key women friends, I was kicked out of my old male nest and  into their embrace.  It was more than I ever asked for and I thought ever deserved because I was raised never to be happy or satisfied with anything I ever did. It could be too that I was happy because of all the work I put in to achieving my transgender goal was working.

Along my gender path, I discovered many blind spots along the way. Several of which almost derailed my attempts to reach my goal altogether. Examples included the times when I was out in the world as a crossdresser and almost was attacked by two men on a dark urban sidewalk outside of a gay venue in Dayton, Ohio I had just left. Or the time I was cornered by a cross-dresser “admirer” who was much bigger than I at a social mixer in Columbus, Ohio. Both were sudden reminders of how different a world I was in as a trans woman when all my personal security was taken away.  Following both of those unfortunate interactions, I learned the hard way to go slowly around any future blind curves I was facing.

It was about this time when I discovered that being able to make it behind the gender curtain was going to take much more than I thought. Mainly because even if I knew ciswomen operated on a whole different wavelength than cismen, I had no idea as to how complex the differences in life went between the genders. Suddenly, I realized why men said they never understood women. It was because women had set their worlds up that way to protect themselves from potentially toxic men. Which I needed to be particularly careful of since I was spending a lot of my life consuming alcohol in venues as a novice single woman. One night comes back to me as a strong learning experience when a toxic drunk man approached me and attempted to start a conversation. Quickly one of my woman bar tenders approached me and with out a word warned me to stay away from him. From then on non-verbal communication became a part of my learning experience when I dealt with other women.

Finally, I got to the point where I could navigate all the blind gender curves I was facing and was even up to the challenge. It became the all that and more time of my life. Sure I had my setbacks, but overall, I was successful except for the night a group of drunken men kept playing “Dude Looks Like a Lady” on the jukebox in a venue where I never had any trouble entertaining myself before. Finally, the spineless manager came up to me and said I needed to leave so I picked up my purse and headed up the street a couple blocks to another venue I was accepted in. It took a month or so but one night when I was back in that venue, one of my former bartenders from the venue I was kicked out of found me and gave me a personal invitation to come back. It seems “Mr. Manager” got fired for drug abuse and I had indirectly got my revenge because I never saw the drunks who harassed me that night again. Revenge was certainly sweet.

Back in those days, acceptance came easier for me than I ever thought possible when I left the restrictive gay venues I was in and began to explore the world as my true self. It was probably because my confidence kept growing every time, I was successful in going out. I needed to come to the point where if anyone had a problem with me, it was their problem not mine and happiness was just around the next blind curve and I just had to see around the curve to discover it because I was still so stubborn to continue to hang on to what was left of my marriage and my male life. Then sadly, destiny set in and I lost my second wife to a massive heart attack and three of my closest male friends to cancer in a two-year period. Leaving me desperately alone and searching for answers.

As I said, destiny set in and I went full circle into a transfeminine future complete with new friends, wife and life. I changed for good when my third wife Liz told me she had never seen any male in me at all, so why did not I just give up the charade I was living with one foot on either side of the two binary genders. It was as if I had paid my dues living as a man which was a lie and it was time to move on into my new world which included the magic of HRT. Which really helped to soften my view of the world as well as my own body as I synced my mental processes up with my external public presentation.

I never recommend anyone take as long as I did to follow their male to female (or female to male) trips across the border. But then again times change and hopefully the gender pendulum will swing back in our favor from all the ridiculous attacks from a certain orange president in Washington and his blind followers. Regardless of what happens though, crossing that border and finding your way behind the gender curtain will never be easy. So buckle up for the ride of your life.

Over the days which have recently passed, I did mention the death of music and world icon “Dolly Parton” but neglected to mention “Tim Curry” of film fame for his role in the 1975 cult movie classic “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” which helped to re-define the boundaries of gender for all of us. He was 80 as was Dolly and will be missed although his work will live on forever.

 

 

Being Accommodating...Not Intimidating

 

Image from Billie
on UnSplash.

Being accommodating versus intimidating was very difficult for me as I transitioned from male to female.

It was all part of learning a new feminine world and escaping the male bonds I had suffered so long from. What happened was, I was thrust into a male dominated world in which if I was ever going to survive, I would have to play the intimidation game of life. That way, I could stand a very good chance of keeping the bullies away as I matured. It did not hurt that I developed into a larger slightly above average sized male person (which I hated) but again when I added sports into my life’s mix kept the doubters away from my masculinity. In fact, I needed to play that intimidation card well into life and used it before I transitioned into a transfeminine world. Intimidation became easy to use for me, and I counted it as one of my male privileges even though I stopped short of ever being a toxic male because I respected all women so much. But it worked well with the male kitchen crews I needed to manage in the busy restaurants where I worked.

The problems began with my basic personality outlook I had been forced to live so well when I began to try to join a world which was largely controlled by ciswomen, not cismen as I always thought was the case. Women just found unique ways always to work around males and their drama. And here I was in the middle of a new world just trying to find my way successfully.

I felt it most intensely when I was forced into communicating one on one in the world with other women. I found I was unprepared and initially just tried to keep my mouth shut, which turned out to be exactly the wrong move to make. Here I was trying to make new friends in a feminine world without talking? How was that going to work. It did work. In exactly the way I did not want it to. If I did not express who I was, the other woman I was trying to communicate with just assumed I was being standoffish or in some way stuck up which was the last thing I wanted to do. So, I immediately trashed my male scowl and quiet behavior as a form of intimidation to keep people away and went to a more open form of interaction with the public which invited people in. In many ways, it was one of the most intense and scariest things I ever went through in my life. I was in uncharted territory for sure and even resorted to feminine vocal lessons to help my progress.

And then there was the experience I had with a small girl who startled me in a clothing store I was in. She ran around a rack of clothes and almost hit me and went running back to her mom saying something about a “Big mean woman.” Immediately I was relieved that she got the woman part right but right then and there decided to do more about the old male intimidation factor I was obviously still carrying with me. In no way did I want to go around scaring little kids.

Life went on, and so did I as I started to feel more secure in my new role behind the gender curtain. I learned that many ciswomen were just curious about who I really was in a world in those days dominated by day-time sensational talk shows such as Phil Donahue and Jerry Springer. Here I was. The real deal cross-dresser or transgender woman right in front of them to talk to and know that I was just a normal person like them after all. It all happened because I had the courage to let them into my world and turn my old male intimidation ideas off for good.

Perhaps the most intense topic in the intimidation versus accommodation discussion came from my initial introductions to the women’s restroom. It was the exact opposite from the men in many ways except the obvious. In the men’s room, you were expected to never make contact or acknowledge another man while in the women’s room just the opposite was true when a polite smile or greeting was the proper way to acknowledge another woman. It took me a little bit of time to get used to the change, but I did it quickly because I wanted to earn my women’s room privileges desperately. For obvious reasons, I was drinking a lot of beer.

I see intimidation versus accommodation as just another step in acclimating yourself into the feminine world. But you have to do it right to be accepted. You must be yourself behind the gender curtain you choose without becoming a doormat. As an outsider to transgender men everywhere, my thoughts are it probably is more difficult to assume an intimidation role in a male world. On the other hand, accommodation in the female world I was in was always an easier path for me to take. I just had to understand and react to anyone who was setting up to take advantage of me. I came away with plenty of claw marks up and down my back from unfortunate experiences I had in a new (to me) passive aggressive ciswoman world. I learned often that a smile meant nothing in most situations when another woman was just sizing me up.

In the end, the whole experience just boiled down to very important experiences I needed to learn to finally make it out of my closet and into the world as a transgender person that other people would like to know and often my smile was the beginning of that process instead of my stay away old male scowl. The fun part often was seeing the results from the amount of learning I needed to do in my stubborn head to make it happen.

As always, thank you very much for joining me along my gender path and I hope you gained something from my mistakes. Any comments are always appreciated!

 

 

 

 

Leaving the Male Noise Behind Me

 

Image from Vinicius Amano
on UnSplash. 
 

I write often of the misadventures I had growing up as a gender I never wanted to be. Often my life seemed unbearable when I made a big error on the baseball field or missed a key tackle on the football field, causing my team to lose. When I did, the only thing I knew to do was to run home to my dresses and makeup and do my best to tune out all the noise of male failure in my head. If I could not be a good athlete, maybe I could try to be a pretty girl.

To make matters worse, the older I got, the more noise kept popping up in my head. Especially from my male side, who was increasingly watching any chance o a future he had slip away. Successes such as making it through the military, and job promotions did not help either.

As the probability of a male to female gender transition increased, the noise did too. Mainly because I noticed an increase in the male world, I was never have been a part of. Perhaps, it was because I was thinking about leaving it anyhow, so I was looking for sure if I wanted to.

One of the sounds I noticed the most were coming from the alpha-males who were posturing for a better place in the world. Since in many ways, my job forced me to be successful in my competition with the alpha’s (as well as my upbringing) I could listen to the noise and tell exactly where it was coming from and how I could compete. Which ultimately led me down a path I had no desire to be on.

The further I traveled along the transgender path I was on, the more I noticed the noise from both sides of the gender border increasing as I stopped to look around at one of the many stop signs I had along the way. Sometimes the screaming from both sides reached a pitch I could barely stand as each side was yelling, they were better. To make matters worse, my male side had most all the advantages which he used to his benefit when he stated his claim on my life. Afterall, he had been there from the beginning and had taken the time and effort to learn how the male world operated and how he could fit it. All my feminine side could do then was continue to cross-dress in front of my favorite mirror and dream of an uncertain future.

The one main thing she had going for her was she had the advantage of feeling natural when she was allowed to express herself in the world. It was a powerful emotion which at least kept the male screaming down to a minimum, for a while. What always happened was, I had a several days of gender euphoria after I cross-dressed which would sadly fade when I mentally and physically had to go back to my male world. Which was far from being a mellow existence. The gender headphones I was continually trying to wear in life never seemed to work well. Even to the point of causing so much guilt, I would purge (throw away) my feminine clothes and vowed to never wear them again. You know how ell that worked as my female side screamed louder and louder to once again be a bigger part of my world and I would be forced to give in.

The sad part about all the noise I was subjected to internally and externally by my gender dysphoria was wrecking my fragile mental health. I never bargained, ever having to deal with the stress of having to bargain with two of the main binary genders ripping my life apart. I only survived by taking advantage of finally listening to good therapists who told me that my gender issues would never just go away and would always be a part of me. I guess you could say that it was therapy which helped me cut through all the noise and essentially saved my life from being extremely self-destructive.

Finally, when the noise reached a fever pitch, I needed to take drastic measures to do something about it That is when I went on an aggressive all-out push to see what a ciswoman’s world was all about and better yet, could I ever be accepted into it. My so-called discovery tour took me out of the worlds of dark gay venues into the lights of straight places such as TGIF Fridays which back in those days was becoming a safe venue for single women to go to. To do what I wanted to do, I needed to put my extreme fear of discovery behind me and see if I could survive in Fridays. When I did, a portion of my noise suddenly made sense to me, and I realized what I needed to do to tune out the rest.

I was proving to myself that there was nothing wrong in what I was doing, and I was starting to ignore all the panic warnings I was receiving from my male side about what I would lose if I left him behind to follow a feminine road. The best part was, the more I started to listen to the feminine noise, it made me feel better about where my life was heading. Even though many of the things I was trying scared me to death, as I succeeded in each step, I was building a calm confidence I would never lose.

Of course, the more my feminine noise clamed me and made me whole, my male noise started to subside to a low whimper. Gone were the days of being lonely and searching for my gender identity when I discovered ciswomen lesbian friends who gave me mine. As they taught me more about validating my own womanhood than they ever knew they did.

Very soon I even healed from my destructive days of listening to all that male noise and was able to throw those old gender headsets aside and live my dream life.

Hey you!!!! Thanks for reading along with how I escaped my male gender noise and maybe it can help you escape yours too. In any case thanks for being here!