Try then Try Again

 

Early Days in my Gender Closet
JJ Hart.

When I first broke out of my gender closet and into the world, there were many cases of failure I needed to deal with.

For example, all the evenings in malls when I was singled out for abuse by groups of teenaged girls. So much so that I tried my best to head to the other side of the mall as quickly as I could in my new high heels before the girls noticed me and started laughing.  When that happened, many times I was sent home in tears wondering what I had done wrong with my presentation. One thing was for sure, I needed to go back to my cross-dressing drawing board and try, try again.

It took me a while to realize I was backwards in my public presentation thinking. I was dressing myself how a man would rather than how a ciswoman would if I stood any chance of blending in and making it in a world I only had just dreamed of. Plus, I benefitted from a crash diet I put myself on which helped me to fit into more stylish feminine clothes. It was the first time in my life that I had been so serious about anything that I could remember.

One big thing I did not realize was the total scope of the male to female femininization project I was taking on. The deeper I delved into the feminine culture I was in, the more I found I had to try to do to become successful and there were many times when I simply not a success. One time that sticks out in my mind was when I visited my gender therapist unannounced as my authentic self and sent her into obvious shock looking around to find out where her son was. I would have thought, since she advertised herself as a gender therapist, she would have been more comfortable around a person cross-dressed as themselves. But she was not. I took it as I had to keep on working on my feminine presentation to hide all the testosterone poisoning male puberty had wrecked my body with.

The more I was able to find myself behind the gender curtain as a transgender woman, the more I needed to try, try again to never stop learning more about how ciswomen spend their lives operating in the world. The circles they run in and their overall dealings with each other as well as men come to mind as I think back on my initial experiences. It was a scary yet exciting time in my life as much of the time I was still risking destroying life as I knew it, if the world discovered my deep dark secret. I had not yet concluded my secret really was that I was a woman hiding behind a man. Not the way I was living thinking I was a man trying to be a woman.

Most of the time, the world did ignore me as my presentation improved well enough to get me by but on the occasions I met the rare TERF (radical feminist) gatekeeper who did not want me behind the gender curtain, I was sent away to try, try again until I earned my way into the places I wanted to go mainly such as women’s restrooms because on my long days out I simply needed to go to the bathroom and not make it such a big deal. It took me a lot of resilience and knowledge of the feminine world to do it but I finally earned my way into the “room” also.

I have always thought that building my fragile confidence into a strong one was one of the best moves I ever made so I could relax in the world and stop trying so hard to be myself. I say fragile because there were so many times over the years when I thought I had achieved confidence only to have it shattered by an unfeeling gender bigot. By trying again and again to overcome the haters, I made it to a point where I could say to heck with them and I was going to live my own life the way I saw fit.  

When I had reached a point where I thought I had enough confidence to get me by was when something unexpected happened to challenge my path. All along, I had some sort of an idea of how complex a ciswomen’s life was than a man’s life, but until I got there as a trans woman, I did not have a real idea of how complex. It was as if every time I thought I could see a clear road ahead on my gender path, someone would throw a stop sign in my way. Making me stop what I was doing and look around. Did I really want to take all these difficult steps I was taking to be a transfeminine person after all.

Of course, once I stopped, looked around and thought about it, I discovered I was in the world which I had always belonged to and I wanted to stay in the worst way. The more I was allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox, the more natural I felt as I felt my life make a seismic shift towards becoming the person I had always meant to be. To keep trying, I needed to decide to risk losing all my remaining close friends, family and employment and embark on the road without any more stop signs.

I was not getting any younger and at the age of sixty my transgender biological clock was running out. It was time to try to see if I was still healthy enough to be approved by a doctor for gender affirming hormones or HRT and I was. Which was actually the last big gender hurdle I had to try because I had already done the social part and I did not desire any extensive facial or genital realignment surgeries. So, I could then try to discover if I could find anyone to share my unique life with.

By trying to put myself out there on dating sites and in the regular straight venues I was going to, that paid off for me too when a ciswoman lesbian from nearby Cincinnati responded to one of my on-line dating requests and we are still together fourteen years later.

All those early years of trying and failing came back to help me years later when I needed it most and my life went full circle.

Thanks for reading along and passing along all your comments and reactions! I really appreciate hearing from you.

 

 

I Was Risking it All

 

Image from Leo Visions
on UnSplash.

In many ways this post is an extension of yesterday's explanation of me never really having a plan b as I traveled up and along my gender path to transgender womanhood. The essence of what I wrote was I did not have a real plan if suddenly it was evident I was not going to make it to my dream.

I was taught to be a dreamer by the unrealistic expectations my parents put on me. Whatever I did was never good enough and often sent me back to hide in my dresses, hose, and makeup. The only place that my impossible dream of being allowed to be feminine could become a reality. If only for a short time. I don’t know exactly why, but the gender dream I was pursuing so well was the only dream I wanted to become a reality as I did just enough to have good grades in school and played just enough sports to keep the bullies away.

Cross-dressing was always a risk because back in those days (the 1950’s and early 1960’s) gender issues were considered to be mental health problems, and I knew that did not describe me. On the other hand, I did not want an impromptu visit to a psychiatrist to tell me about myself and how I should be treated. Fortunately, that mental health visit never happened as I continued to risk my existence on some sort of a high-wire act which if I ever fell, life as I knew it would fall with me.

Of course, as it always does, life became much more complex as the years flew by. As my cross-dressing became more presentable, at the same time, I had college demands and a military service I never asked for to deal with during the Vietnam War years. All this time, I was learning what it meant to risk it all in my life and somehow still succeed. As even though my gender issues were put on hold for a long three years, I learned valuable lessons from the Army on how to attempt to deal with my dream which was on hold. At the least, I learned from the military how to deal with a structure I had never had before as well as other issues that would take another blog post to deal with.

When I was discharged from the Army, I gained my first and only child and my life became even more complex. What could I do with a child to deal with if I wanted to risk it all to run away and live a transfeminine life. Dealing with everything else for me became easy when I had a family to provide for. Any alternate plans I had for my future were delayed again along with any hope of ever making it to my dreams.

What suddenly came along to help me was when the internet took hold of the world and I was introduced to people just like me I could reach out to and even meet. All because of the first in home computer my second wife and I purchased. By participating in the first chat rooms of the time, I had my first taste of what it meant to be a transgender woman and not a parttime cross-dresser as well as sampling my many layers of the gender spectrum I never knew existed. The one big thing the computer did for me was that it taught me how badly I wanted to test out the new world I had discovered for myself and see where it took me.

I also learned quickly that it was easier said than done. Mainly because when I left my safe closet mirror and jumped into the harsh reality of being a trans woman in the world was not going to be as easy as I thought. I needed to quit dreaming of what I thought I should look like and begin to expend all my time and money working on how to survive in a world where ciswomen run the show. Sometimes up front and most of the time behind the scenes which I came to call the gender curtain. I found out the hard way, that to not be rejected in my quest to make it behind the curtain I would have to eventually risk it all in search of the new, exciting world I wanted to live in.

I am not a poker player at all, but I knew I would have to push all my chips to the center of the table to see if I could ever win my goal. The problem remained that my male side was still acquiring more chips with his new more demanding job. Here I was stuck between two genders trying to rule each other and the male side was materialistic, and the female side was more natural and felt like I was doing the right thing for the first time in my life. All the turmoil resulted in was destroying my already frail mental gender spectrum health. It tore me up as I had to constantly be aware of which gender I was on any given day.

As I said, eventually my feminine side won out as I chose feeling more natural in the world than I ever had as a man. He had been reduced to a shell of his former self by being able to shed his male privileges he earned but never wanted. In its place I gained the greatest female privilege of all…the freedom to experience the world as a trans woman myself. It took a while but all the dark downtimes I experienced on my bumpy gender path made me a more resilient trans woman with a unique understanding of both sides on the main gender binary.

I cannot imagine what would have happened if I had lost that gender poker game so long ago because I was living such a miserable life. Plan a was to always live as close as I could to a woman. It took me decades of life (5) to get there, but I made it.

 

There Was Never a Plan B

 

JJ Hart, Back row far left
Girls Night Out.

Very early in my cross-dressing days, I always tried to have a plan b in the back of my head if danger approached in the form of my brother discovering me or my parents coming home early from work.

Seeing as how I had no effective plan to get out of what I was doing in mom’s dresses and makeup, I thought that somehow, I would have to just try to lie my way out of it and say I would never attempt it again. Knowing that was a deal with the devil I could never make and expect to keep. As I continued to cross-dress in the family mirrors, I finally had to throw caution to the wind and just go ahead and do it.

Years went by as well as the complexity of what I was doing as I tried my best to express my feminine self. At the least, I thought of better ways to hide away my resources from prying eyes and was successful all but once when I got careless on a weekend, I was away when I was waiting to go into the Army and start basic training. What happened was, I had just mixed my feminine clothes and wig in with a bunch of my male clothes thinking that one would disturb them until I returned. I was wrong and when I got back, everyone else in my apartment had not returned home for a college break leaving me all alone except for one other guy who had come over to visit.

As we sat around drinking a few beers, I decided to gather my courage and somehow asked would he like to see me dressed as a woman. Effectively, throwing all ideas of a plan b if he got up and bolted out of the apartment. To my surprise, he did not and was receptive to the idea, so I left to start the prep work needed to finally come out to another person. After I had taken the time to shower and shave my legs and face, I went into my bedroom looking for my feminine clothes, wig and makeup. Only to be shocked to learn they were all gone. Someone had stolen them when I was gone. All the plans for the evening I had were shattered as we sat around and then finished all the beer and nothing was ever said about him coming so close to meeting the true me. As far as confronting anyone about where my clothes, wig and makeup had gone, I decided to keep my mouth shut because I was so close to having to report to Ft. Knox in Kentucky for Army basic training anyhow. A final solution for a plan b during the next three years of my life. I knew I could not entertain any ideas of cross-dressing at all.

When I was discharged and Halloween parties with my friends became the only external form of feminine expression that I had, I needed to ignore any of the warning signs that I was giving away any idea I was not as masculine as I acted. I was so into going to Halloween dressed as a woman that I decided to take matters into my own hands and ignore all the plan b’s that I had thought up. Even to the point if some other person commented on my “costume” and the effort which went into it, I would just try to laugh it off. Mostly what happened was compliments from other ciswomen on my shaved legs and I even gained the nickname of “legs” with several of them which I had to act like I did not care. When deep down inside I was overjoyed and wanted more input. It took me years to understand what they were really saying was I looked good for a man dressing as a woman.

As more years went by and I became very serious about being a transgender woman and was attempting to hide it from my second wife, plan b’s became very important to me. In many ways, I had regressed to my childhood in the ways as I had to hide my femininity away from her. In addition to being very tuned in to when she got off of work, I needed to get better and better at makeup and eye makeup removal, so hopefully she couldn’t tell what I was doing when she was at work. The problem was that practice was making my femininized presentation more effective.  Success just made me want more and having a plan b at all was disappearing totally.

For the longest time, the only recourse I had was to attempt to lie my way out of whatever transgender activities I even had to resort to trying therapy to save our relationship. The gender therapist was wiser than I was and told me there was nothing she could do about my deep-seated gender issues. I was trying to buy time with my wife and save our relationship as long as I could, but the therapist was not a miracle worker and I quit going. Leaving me to wonder what I would do about finding the next plan b I desperately needed to hold my marriage together. Because I knew it would be just inevitable my wife would discover what I was doing as a transgender woman exploring the world and we would have a gigantic fight because I had promised I was going to stay home.

The problem was that I knew I was wrong and was just buying time until the next adventure I had in the world with the ciswomen that ran it.

Finally, what happened was I ran out of all needs to have a plan b when it came to me being a transfeminine person. I had learned to live freely behind the gender curtain which I had waited so long and worked so hard to do. In fact, it was the only big dream I had in my life. I then resorted to a new plan to live out my life the way I wanted.

 

 

 

 

All Along I was Just Me

 e

Inage from Gayatri Malhotra
on UnSplash. 

It took me decades of living to realize the simplest of all realizations…just discovering who the true me was all about.

It turned out I was so much more complex than the friends I had around me in how I felt about life. Which often help me back because I could not express how badly I wanted to be a woman. What I did was, I took the natural male response I inherited and internalized all my feelings. Naturally, the male response did not work and all it did was wreck even further my already frail mental health. If I could not cross-dress my anxiety increased and when I did my paranoia kicked in when I thought, I was getting caught.

As I added years to my life, the complexity of being a gender dysphoric person grew with the years. What did I do? I tried to outrun my problems. It wasn’t until the Vietnam War years and beyond did I learn that I would have to stop being a victim and stand up to living a life outside of the shadows of being a man. The idea of moving my family around and changing jobs all the time until I finally landed a job I wanted in a location, I wanted to be. That meant I climbed out of fast food and landed in a full service, casual dining chain which served alcohol which was exactly where I wanted to be.

With my dream job in place, I could concentrate on my feminine side by beginning to go to the small diverse LGBTQ parties I used to go to in nearby Columbus, Ohio. At those mixers, I was able to meet transgender mentors who would define my future. From them, I learned a path to my dream may actually be possible. The me I had always dreamed of was finally beginning to emerge. Much to the chagrin of my long-time second wife who actually went with me to a few of the parties. Probably, just to keep track of me. One thing was for sure; my wife never liked the trans woman I was becoming. Back in those days, I was still trying too hard to dress to impress and my wife was right, my dresses were too short, and my makeup was too heavy for her liking.

As she normally was, my wife was right about my appearance, and I tried my best to tone it down when she was around. Most of the time to no avail. I was stubborn and had to live out my so-called adolescence years of cross-dressing before I learned how to dress to blend in with my wife and the ciswomen around her. As I always say, sadly she passed away before she ever got the chance to meet the mature transgender me. I know we could have not stayed married but maybe at least be friends.

The question became, what was I doing with my time when I was discovering who I really was. What I was doing was exploring as close as I could what it would be like to live a whole new life behind the gender curtain. For the most part, I was successful as I made my way from the relative safety of the gay venues I was frequenting and jumping into the more challenging straight sports bars I was used to going to as a man. By never causing any trouble, always smiling and most importantly by tipping well, I was able to establish myself as a regular in several venues which seemed unreachable to me just a short time before. Most importantly, I was able to bring my love of sports from my male life into my female life with no problems. Which was a surprise to me.

As I did, I discovered the true me was not that far removed from the old me. Basically. I had just changed my appearance and gave up basic male privileges such as perceived intelligence and personal safety, and the best was yet to come as I was able to begin to move around freely as the new me in a world run by ciswomen. Quoting my second wife, I didn’t “make” a terrible woman after all. Primarily because I was not “making” anything. I was becoming me. Sure, I knew on occasions I could have done a better job, but I never allowed myself to be a victim and moved on back to my gender path. Which was beginning to change dramatically because I was beginning yet another  major gender related transition in my life.

First, there were the two obvious mental transitions I went through including the initial once when I realized I was so much more than a weekend parttime cross-dresser which went all the way to that fateful night at a local TGIF Fridays when I had had enough of that thought pattern and went out to be with the other ciswomen just getting off of work at a nearby mall.

From that moment on, I knew I could never go back to my old unwanted male self. But still, I felt as if something was missing in my life. It was because I was still missing the obvious transition of all as I finally realized I was never a cross-dresser or a transgender woman; I was just me.

I wish I could take credit for being persistent and intelligent that I kept on pushing to find me but I can’t. That credit goes to all the ciswomen who I became close to over the many years of struggle I endured. And yes, my second wife is included because she was the first to say be man enough to be a woman and make life easier on both of us. As we all know, many women are good at reading small lights inside of a person (unless you are fighting an unsupportive spouse) which is a point for another blog post.

I can’t say enough positive about all the women in my life who helped kick me out of my male nest and into the world of women. They knew me better than I knew me.

 

 

 

Loving the Skin You are In

 

JJ Hart.

Loving the skin, you are in is often difficult for a transgender woman or transgender man. In fact, we often come to hate the skin we are in. 

We start early in our lives boxed into a gender we were born into but never felt comfortable with. Many of us go through times of discomfort as we try to sort out who we really are. We have many questions such as are we going through a phase, is it just a fetish and someday will we somehow outgrow our desire to be the gender we always wanted to be.

In my case, it took me decades to accept the skin I was in and to learn to live it in the world as a transgender woman. Recently, I was reminded of my past when I attended a virtual LGBTQ support group meeting at the Veteran’s Administration. Normally it is a very tight knit group of the same people who come every week, but this week we had a new person who joined us who was coming out of her gender shell and slowly learning to live a life as a transgender woman. During the session, she asked if anyone had any advice on dealing with public in general and the police in particular when you are out in the world.

I am not good at giving much advice in situations such as that, so I mainly kept my ideas to myself. Such as the fact that I have had few interactions with the police over the years and those have been mostly positive. Even the ciswoman who called me a pervert once in a women’s restroom, did not call the cops on me. Leaving me with the time I was in a venue I was not a regular in and two women at the bar made it a point to call the police on me after I had used the women’s room. All that happened was I was stopped on the way out by a female cop who told me not to do it again and I went a short distance up the road to one of my regular venues where I knew I would not have any troubles. To make a long story short, I was sorry, but I did not have much of any ideas on a magic cure to dealing with a potentially unaccepting public. You just must develop a thick skin and complete confidence that you are doing nothing wrong and you can make it.

Another problem I have with giving any trans person advice is that I came out seriously so long ago and times have changed. You see reports of so many toxic men harassing ciswomen these days which were barely seen in the days when I was trying my hand at being a single woman at a big sports bar. Plus, I am lucky to live now in a fairly liberal part of Cincinnati where the public at large does not notice me, or care. I am allowed to exist in the world as my true self in my own skin for the first time in my life.

I was fortunate to be one of those trans women who could get out of her gender closet and exist in a stable world where I could flourish and share my ideas about my femininity. Hopefully the new member of the support group will stick around long enough so that I will be able to share thoughts with her about appreciating her own skin. Another problem too is that the group time is at a premium, so I am reluctant to take too much up with my thoughts. Such as, if she is already out enough to wear feminine clothes and paint her nails, what is she waiting for. Maybe she is waiting for someone to come along like I was and kick me out of my closet for good. Which is what happened to me when I was miserable trying to juggle living in both genders, and my future wife Liz told me that she had not seen any male in me at all

Destiny really set in with me when my daughter came on board with knowing the true me by saying among other things that I looked so happy. I mentally added, because for the first time in my life I was having the chance to live in my own skin.

Even with all the positives I was dealing with, I still had to get out into the world and live my new reality. I always had some sort of an idea that ciswomen live more of a complex life than men do, but I had no idea of what I was walking into in my new high heeled shoes. Primarily learning to deal with curious ciswomen and their passive aggressive behavior and potentially drama-filled toxic men filled my evenings when I was going out in my new skin in the world as I knew it. Through it all, I needed to adjust my way of thinking quickly and radically away from the old male way I viewed the world.

What kept me going was the fact that I felt so good and natural in my new transfeminine skin. Deep down I felt this new life I was living was always the way things should have always been for me until the cruel joke of being born a biological male set in. It was something I would have to battle for my entire life.

As far as the physical part of having a new skin, it was way past time for HRT or gender affirming hormones to set in and help me. When I was approved for my life improving hormones, it was like my body was telling me I should have been on them all along. As my overall body skin softened dramatically, along with bigger breasts and longer hair.

The best part of adding hormones to my body was the fact that my emotions set themselves up to better appreciate the whole process. For the first time in my life, I could cry tears of joy which I did when I began to live my life in my own skin. I certainly loved it.

 

 

 

 

 

Every time I Looked Around...

Image from Mahrael Boutros 
on UnSplash

Until I began to become used to the new feminine world I was beginning to navigate as a transgender woman or cross dresser in those days, it seemed as if everyone was looking at me.

I was not used to the fact that both main binary genders look at women. Even though they do it through vastly different lenses. Men of course have the tendency to add a sexual aspect to how they view a woman and other ciswomen often compare other women to how they look and how much work did the woman put into her presentation. As any beginning cross-dresser learns early, it takes a lot of work and effort put into a quality feminine look. Especially when you are making the leap from presenting looking like a man with your testosterone poisoned body, all the way to being able to blend into the world of ciswomen effortlessly.

I know with me, before I could begin to blend in with my new world, I needed to shake all the cobwebs of male feelings I had about doing it at all. For the longest time, I listened to my male self on how he perceived women in the world as sexual objects and tried to influence the way I was presenting myself. What happened was, I was dressing too tight and too short in my clothes and attracting too much unwanted attention. Not only was everyone looking closely at me, I received negative feedback because I was doing it all wrong. I was fighting a losing battle with the age that I was and the body shape I had to stubbornly realize I could not go on that way and hope to ever try to live my dream of being a fulltime transfeminine person.

Then, I went back to my cross-dressing drawing board to set out a whole different way of trying to present myself. Out went the way too short skirts and dresses and in came more manageable denim skirts and oversized flowing tops designed to cover my broad shoulders and lack of hips. I even went to the extent of going on a crash diet so I could find clothes in the thrift stores I was haunting that fit me. Along the way too, it is worth mentioning, I started to take much better care of my skin after my daily shave which helped me to wear less makeup. If everyone was going to look at me, I needed to give them my best effort.

One thing I could not hide was I was a big woman, and I needed to not be ashamed of it but to understand there were plenty of other ciswomen in the world who were the same size as me. So, I began to look for them to see how they moved about in the world. Even though I was right around the six-foot tall mark, I could still wear my cherished high heels. Even with jeans and a tight top which accented my new properly proportioned silicone breast forms I was gifted by a cross-dressing friend who was purging all his feminine belongings at the time.

Amazingly to me, my life as a newly realized transgender woman begin to come together for me. I started to be able to move around in society without causing undo attention while at the same time completely enjoying myself. I even went to the point of buying sunglasses which hid my eyes so I could watch others to see if they were watching me. It was a great way to judge how well I was doing in my ongoing challenge of who was watching me and who was not. I learned I was not attractive enough to attract much cis male attention but attractive enough to be sized up in the public by the ciswomen I encountered. Most importantly, I was getting used to the attention I was receiving and often I wondered where it was if I did not receive it.

The way I began to see the attention I was receiving was I craved it because of all the hard work I had put in to being an attractive woman anyway I could. Positive attention was feedback that I was doing something right and the very little negative feedback I encountered could be overcome easily because of my new overall confidence. Which became my number one accessory I needed when I found myself in shark (human) infested waters with potentially dangerous people. My new training as a trans woman taught me to look ahead and do my best to not put myself in dangerous situations in the new world I was in stripped of my old male privilege of personal safety. Very quickly, I learned the problems of being a lone woman in a poorly lit deserted area.

I was able to test my passing privileges when I transitioned away from the gay venues I was going to and tried my best to become a regular patron in many of the very same big sports bars I used to go to as a man. It turned out to be easier than I thought it would be and I was not noticed much at all by cismen or ciswomen. Even though, on occasion, another woman at the bar would take the time to talk to me. I think more than anything else out of curiosity. Why would an ex-man such as me want in her world was the major point women of all sorts were trying to find out.

As I said, I began to crave and even expect the attention I was getting as the only transgender woman in the venue. Except on the nights that my trans woman friend Racquel met me there. We ended up having about five venues we went to that accepted out business with no problems. I also went to monthly lesbian social mixers with my two friends in many of the same places and I was overjoyed when another lesbian approached me. I guess you could say I was causing the right kind of attention.

Getting out and learning how to know and appreciate the right amount of attention even carried over to an on-line relationship I stumbled into with my future wife Liz who contacted me from an ad I had placed on a woman seeking woman dating site. Fourteen years later we are still together, so I guess I looked in the right place for attention.

Thanks for giving me your attention for my experiences! Any feedback or responses is always welcome.

 

 

 

 

The Vampires Approved Me

 

Image from Mike Lloyd 
on Unsplash. 

Yesterday I needed to visit the Veterans Administration vampires to have my blood labs done. Fortunately, I could just go to my local branch office to get them done and not have to go to the congested mess which is the downtown Cincinnati VA Hospital.

I chose yesterday to go because it was a beautiful early August day here in Ohio with coolish temperatures and bright sunshine for the relatively short drive I needed to make to get there. For the occasion, I decided to wear my new Libra themed tank top with leggings and my new tennis shoes. After a close shave, a lite coating of makeup, and lipstick, I brushed out my long hair and was ready to go. Actually, compared to the few other ciswomen I encounter at the VA, I was nicely dressed and ready to face the world as a transgender woman.

When I arrived at the VA, it was a very uneventful visit as no one seemed to notice me for anything other than who I was, an elderly woman who did not have to wait long to be seen and have my blood drawn. Since I was emboldened by the experience, I decided to stop by my wife’s Liz and I’s favorite coffee shop to pick up some breakfast sandwiches and coffee. My morning continued to go good as their drive-through was nearly empty and I was greeted cheerfully. Before I knew it, I had my order and was headed home. It is the coffee shop we go to which has the big LGBTQ flag on the wall, so we always try to support it.

The best part was that only a couple of hours later, the doctor who wanted the bloodwork done received the results and everything came back OK. Which means I am clear with the vampires until I have my Hematologist visit downtown this fall. It is important mainly because it is when I have my Estradiol levels checked. It is certainly no fun going downtown and having to find a parking place and walking but there is nothing I can do about it.

In the meantime, I took my brief moment of gender euphoria and enjoyed it for what it was…a brief moment to be the person I always wanted to be. I was just being me basically for the first time in my life. Now all I need to do is string together more of these moments to make them my reality.

Just a short post today to let you know where I have been and I will be back with you with a longer post tomorrow.

Living the Dream

 

Image from Randy Tarampi
on UnSplash.

I discovered before I could live a dream of living as my own unique sense of womanhood, I needed to discover exactly what that meant.

I knew very early on it was much more than just applying makeup and parading around in one of mom’s dresses. It went much deeper than that. I wanted to be a girl as badly as anything I had ever wanted in my life.

The problem was that I was stuck in an information “never-never” land with no internet or social media of any sort to provide key information on what it really meant to have issues with your gender and not just throw you aside with some sort of a mental illness diagnosis. I did know enough about myself to know I was not mentally ill for wanting to be everything feminine. So, I did the only thing I knew how, day dream my life away envying the ciswomen around me.

As I grew into myself, I learned more about my dream and the overall demands it would make upon my life. Even though I tried not too, I still added extra male baggage such as a child, marriage and a better career to my life. I always thought I would be better off lonely with just having myself to depend on if I ever had to get rid of it all in my male world and start all over again as a transgender woman. Another problem was that I was tantalizing close to encountering other gender conflicted people who were actively following their dreams, so I knew it was possible.

For example, I just missed crossing paths in my broadcasting career with other trans women who were actively following their dream. One at a small radio station I worked at in my hometown and another I ran into at a AFTN Thailand radio/tv reunion in New Orleans. Sadly, the trans woman was so shy and backwards, I could not even get her attention to say hello.

Everything changed when I came home to nearby Columbus, Ohio and was invited to very diverse small parties on a regular basis. Everyone was there, including several trans women who were headed for gender realignment surgeries that I was able to interact with and learn from. How much exactly did my dream entail? Going all the way like they did, or not was my major point of wanting to know about them. The one thing I did find out was that they had taken the time and effort to set themselves up for success in the new lives they were undertaking. One trans woman was a firefighter getting ready to retire and had a good pension and insurance coming to cover her surgery and another was a very successful electrical engineer who was extraordinarily beautiful and knew she would not have any problems continuing to work after the surgeries.

I was in neither of their classes in appearance, insurance coverage or job security to even compare myself to them, but still my dream of ever living as a transfeminine person would not go away.

Somehow, I needed to carve out my own individual gender path to success if I was ever going to make it. Finally, I learned the powerful message to just be myself and most of the rest of my problems in my male to female femininization would fade into the background. No, I was not extra attractive such as thedestiny transitioning transgender women that I knew but I realized that many of the ciswomen that I knew weren’t either. It was very shallow of me to think that all that went into to being a quality person as a woman was just appearance, so I grew past it. My focus shifted into having more confidence in myself as a good person that a stranger would like and away from just how I looked. When I did, my dream began to become a better focus. Maybe I could do it after all.

Of course, my major focus was what was I going to do with all the unwanted male baggage (and some of the wanted too) that I was planning on taking along on to my new life. At that point in time, my second wife was still alive, and she had made it a point to tell me she would never want to live with another woman, so I had to figure out what I was going to do about that major problem. Then I also had the usual conflicts we all face such as what we are going to do about employment and would any of our friends accept us.

For me, destiny came along and in one fall swoop showed me the way to living my dream. My wife passed away. Leaving me alone to consider my future about the time what was left of my close male friends died too. It turned out destiny was giving me a clean life slate to work from when I began to start all over. In addition, I was old enough to retire and work a little on the side to make ends meet and the Veterans Administration health care system which I was already a part of decided to approve gender related care or HRT for qualified veterans which I was. Destiny could not have shown me a better path to my dream than if I had planned it that way. I needed to pay my dues and work through many dark, lonely days to get to the light, but it was worth it when I did.

Finally, my dream became a focus for me when I met my future wife Liz and other ciswomen who let me into their world. I was able again to focus my dream on reality and make sure it was not a nightmare. Perhaps the best part of the entire trip up my gender path was the likelihood that I would ever make it. To say the least, my going forward was a shaky proposition to start with and all too often, my mental gender darkness threatened to catch up to me and my dream.

Thank goodness it never did, and my transgender dream became a reality.

Reality for me is also to have you join in with my thoughts. Thanks so much for doing so!

 

 

 

 

When There is No One to Believe in You

 

JJ Hart

Sadly, transgender women and transgender men spend much of their lives being lonely with no one left to believe in them.

When it happens, the dark lonely closet you have been dealing with becomes even more restrictive and uncertain. With me, the only thing that kept me focused on my gender path was a little voice which kept telling me that against all odds, I was doing the right thing.

Maybe, like some of you, I had the same misgivings of what I was doing as I cross-dressed as a girl. Was I going through a phase, a fetish or was something wrong with me mentally all entered my mind one time or another. I did know, I had very few male friends and for some reason felt uncertain around the ones I did meet. Which only added to my loneliness and made me withdraw further within myself. It was very difficult for me to believe anything about myself during this portion of my life. But I thought I had no choice but to struggle on.

It was not until much later that I found that I did not have to struggle as much as I was doing as ironically, both sides of my dual gendered personality were coming out of their shells slowly at the same time. After military service in the Army, I learned to not be afraid of other competition from men, while at the same time I was learning how to exist in a ciswoman’s world I had always dreamed of. Life as I knew it was becoming unbelievably complex as I tried to balance two genders mentally and physically.  Every day, I needed to concentrate on who I was going to be when I faced the public. Ironically, I needed more room in my closet to make room for marriages, kids and employment.

Even when all of this was going on, I still felt lonely and wondered what I was doing wrong with my life. The problem was I was living backwards, which I would not understand until much later in my life sadly. The basics did not come to me that I was not a man trying to be a woman but was a woman trying not to be a man. It all comes under the old saying “If I had known then, what I know now, what a better life I would have had.” But the fact remained I was still living a very shallow life as a novice transgender woman and had so much to learn before I could claim my own version of womanhood.

For the longest time, I just took for granted I would just be lonely as a part of life I would have to get used to. Especially after my second wife of twenty-five years unexpectedly passed away from a massive heart attack. Even though she did not accept me as a trans woman, somehow, we still did stay together until the end. At least, I loved her deeply and was never lonely with her, or so I thought.

I found you do not miss what you had until it is gone, and death is the ultimate version of being gone and starting all over for me at the age of fifty-five was not going to be easy. Even though the relationships I had built up as a man were very few, what I had were all starting to die also. Any relationships with ciswomen as a man that I had were few and far between because I was not sure which direction I would go with my gender. I did not want to start another relationship with a woman just to end it by telling her she was actually living with another woman. As the gays would say, I was keeping my true self on the “downlow” the best that I could.

What happened next was that I was increasingly having a difficult time staying on the “downlow” because of all the explorations I was doing in the straight world I was trying to re-enter. This time as a transfeminine person. I was slowly building social relationships in the world with ciswomen who suddenly showed an interest in me. The problem I had was I was still not on HRT yet and was still in my mind too fake to pursue a relationship with a woman when after I stripped down to my basics, I was still a man without my fake hair, breasts and hips. Even with all the social stimulus I was receiving in my new world, I was still frustrated and feeling alone in my life.

I finally realized that I was the only one holding myself back from learning if I could be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT.  I made the medical appointment from a doctor’s ad I had seen in a local LGBTQ publication and before I knew it, I was deemed healthy enough to be approved. It was a major step in my life and one I did not take lightly. The first night I took the minimum dosage of estradiol and spiro pills I was prescribed, I saved the special occasion for when my future wife Liz could join me in a venue in Dayton, Ohio.

Very soon, my HRT dosage was increased, and I ended up calling them my “magic pills” before I was switched to patches which would be easier on my system. Thanks to Liz and a few other ciswomen friends, I was able to think about forming deeper relationships with women again. My body had morphed into a curious gender blend of breasts, hips, soft skin with a non-performing male piece of equipment which did not seem to matter to the ciswomen around me who were not as insecure with their sexuality as most of the cismen that I knew.

Most importantly, I gained the confidence to believe in myself, which led me to not suffer the extreme loneliness I had felt during many parts of my life. It was like I was on a wheel, and my life had had the time and good fortune to come around again.

Hey all!!!! Thanks for reading.  Your input makes it all worthwhile to me.

 

 

 

How Much Courage did it Take You?

 

Image from Jon Tyson
on UnSplash.

Often, I hear the words courage or bravery kicked around when it came to mentioning someone coming out of their closet into the real world.

In my case, I would have to replace either of the words with just being afraid of what would happen if I did not pursue my gender dreams of living as a transgender woman. Mainly because I was so self-destructive when it came to causing self-harm to my unwanted male self. I drove too fast and recklessly, drank way too much and even tried to actively kill myself once because of my gender dysphoria.

Especially after I had the rare chance to talk to my friends who survived brutal combat in the Vietnam War, I reserved the terms brave and courage for them. Because in many ways, I was just doing what came naturally when I cross-dressed in front of the mirror at home. It turned out staying in my own little feminine world was very easy until I began to want to see if I could stretch my luck and actually leave the house looking as close as I thought I could to a pretty girl. The only reality I did know was I was scared to death.

Little by little, my fear began to subside, and I wanted to expand my explorations to bigger and better venues such as the malls which were just beginning to come into their own back in those days. Still. I didn’t think I was brave enough to do it. Or was I just being stupid by risking losing everything that I worked so hard to build up in my male life. My ego dictated that I did not dwell on the stupid aspect of trying to femininize my testosterone poisoned body. I just wanted to blend in with the rest of the ciswomen I envied so much. As much as I was being abused by certain segments of the public, I began to use another term to describe myself and that was stubborn. In fact, I think that would be a great title to a new PBS show (Public Broadcasting System) called the “Stubborn Cross-dresser.”

As I continued on my gender path towards finally being allowed to join the girls’ club, my stubbornness in trying new things was both a blessing and a curse. A prime example was when I was trying to hang on to my teen fashion sense way too long. It was a curse, and my blessing came along when I became stubborn enough to keep going back to my cross-dressing drawing board until I fixed the problem and became able to blend in better with the women, I wanted to notice me. After the death of my second wife of twenty-five years, I was desperately lonely and did not want to attempt to build another life as a man when the possibility of building one as a trans woman was right in front of me. If I was brave enough to take advantage of a life I had only dreamed of. Was I going to take the easy way out and try to be a man again or build upon what I had learned as a novice transgender woman became my major question to answer.

Finally, I needed to “man-up” and be a woman as my second wife used to tell me and when I had the courage to do it, I felt a deep happiness in life I never had before. In fact the feminine privilege I found to be the most pleasant was the fact that I was allowed the opportunity to be happy. For the first time in my life, I was able to align my sun, moon, and stars so I did not have to fight a gender battle on two fronts which kept me unhappy and on edge. I positively loved my new life along with my first chance ever to just be happy with what I had.

If you are one of the many gender conflicted individuals trying to decide if and when you will make the ultimate choice to go for the gender border as a trans woman or trans man, my only advice must be, look deeply inside yourself for your answer. Your answer is there If you are stubborn enough to find it. Life is like an old merry-go-round and often it is difficult to slow it down to see the real world spinning in front of you. And if destiny puts you on the right path to do it, you can discover a group of well-meaning friends (ciswomen or men for you trans men) who can help you along. Making you a better person than you ever thought you could be. I would never have thought that the gender dysphoria that I felt would end up causing me so many problems in my life.

Before your life ends and you move on to whatever other place of existence you believe in, you have the basic right to be happy. You can deal in semantics and call your gender journey as being brave or having courage all you want but the end result is you being the natural person who you always should have been.

Somehow, we have been chosen to lead a different life’s journey than most of the others in the human race. Call us brave or courageous if you want but as a tribe, we are doing what we were always been destined to do. It is just too bad we are met with such resistance by haters in the world. As well as the gatekeepers who want to keep us away from our chosen genders. When I speak about gatekeepers, immediately radical feminist TERFs come to mind who have no business in ours.

Best wishes on your successful gender journey and summoning enough courage (if you want to call it that) to get out into the world and live your best life.

Thanks again to all of you who join me in my experiences, and I hope we can all learn from them. I apologize to all of you who have commented. I am a little behind getting back to you because of technical problems.

 

 

 

 

 

Why Me???

Image from Barbara Burgess
on UnSplash. 

I have often thought during my life as I was becoming aware of who I really was as a transgender woman, why me?

Those were the days of thinking I was the only male in the world who wanted to be female, and if I was, what was I ever going to do about it. Very early on before I had the necessities to start exploring the world on my own, I needed to rely on just the occasional cross-dressing experience in front of the family’s hallway mirror. It was very difficult to do because I needed to work around a very curious brother and family.

Most certainly, for years, I played the victim as I felt sorry for myself and my gender issues. It wasn’t until I began to leave my dark, restrictive gender closet did I begin to see that I was not so much of a victim after all. Overcoming my gender dysphoria would make me a unique human being with my insight into both genders. But only if I first paid my extensive dues to get there.

As most of you know, the dues transgender women and transgender men pay to challenge and win the battle to change genders is extensive and often dearly expensive as we have to give up spouses, family, friends and jobs. Just for what some see as a selfish pursuit of personal pleasure. If they ever knew the truth, most certainly they would not feel that way as they never had to feel the anguish, we feel about hurting others. During the depth of my struggle, I was down mentally and lonely as I felt why was this all happening to me. It led me to feel selfish and there was nothing I could do about it. I was even jealous of the other cismen around me who could follow their so-called “normal” lives without worrying about something as major as wanting to be a woman.

As I continued to learn what it would take to lead a transfeminine life, the more I respected what I had discovered and wanted to learn more. That was the time I began to see the light of my victim tunnel was not the train but was sunlight which would lead me into a new day. Away from many of the old fears and paranoias about going along my continuing male to female femininization path I was traveling. Slowly I discovered there could be much more to my gender journey than just doing my best to blend in with the ciswomen in the world around me. I still did not know why me, but at least I was not a victim any longer and I just might be on to something much bigger if I could escape all my self-destructive behavior I was engaging in.

I learned the hard way from pure social experimentations that I was on the right path and to keep going. Maybe by doing so, I could climb the gender ladder up to the level of where some of my transgender mentors were. If they could make it, why couldn’t I. It wasn’t why me anymore, it was becoming why not.

I was more certain in my gender choices when questions surrounding things like my sexuality came about. Because I was immediately embraced by so many ciswomen so quickly, I never had to worry about the occasional man that came along and mainly viewed me as a fetish object The last thing I needed was having to deal with the drama of a toxic cisman. So, I never did as I was able to discover my validation as a transgender woman through other strong women. Why me became suddenly very real as I kept going out night after night with the group of mainly lesbian women who accepted me. They taught me more than they ever knew about what it was like to survive in a world where men were basically an afterthought.

In their own way, my lesbian friends helped me to be prouder of the trans person I had become. My why me became why not as I grew increasingly confident in my own skin as a transgender woman. To coin a classic song, I could see the world from both sides now and be part of a special group of humans that could. Which is why I think so many transphobes and TERF feminist gatekeepers fear us and try to keep us out of women only spaces. Like them we gained our womanhood, just from a different and unique vantage point and we are not men trying to slip in. Especially since we work so hard to get away from the male culture.

Long ago, I was able to put my why me victim mentality about being transgender behind me and get on with my life. It marked the turning point when I could be accepted into the only club I ever dreamed of being in…the girls ‘club and I never have regretted doing it. Following several not so good decisions in my life, I finally made the right one and put the necessary work in to earn the title of proud transgender woman.

Today I will put my public gender persona to the test again as I go with my wife Liz to two of her doctor’s appointments. It is usually the easiest test of all because all the people I run into are mostly concerned about themselves. Plus, these days, I normally mentally have gone back to thinking my newer transgender self has been me all along. No more victim mentality. I always point out I did not have much to work with when I started my journey except a deep will to do it. I also wonder, if I knew all the bumps and bruises, I would have along the way, would I ever attempt the trip across the gender border. It took me taking the chances to get out into the public to make it at all, and if I did not, I probably would have been in my closet crying, why me.

For the first time in my life, all I knew was I needed to get out of my closet and fight for the life I really wanted.

 

 

Gender Affirmation Day

 

Image from Ava Sol
on UnSplash.

Recently, I had a rare opportunity to meet and enjoy the company of a small group of family for breakfast which I like to call a gender affirmation day.

Precisely, there were four of us including my daughter, son-in-law, my wife Liz and myself. For the morning, I chose a breakfast only small chain venue which we had never been able to go to before. Since it has been a while since I have seen daughter and son-in-law, I was very happy to see them. In addition, I have three grandchildren who did not come since they are adults now and have their own lives to attend too. Plus, the oldest, is a nuclear engineer and lives in Maine and the next two in age (both boys) are traveling in Japan. The youngest is some sort of a bio-engineering student at “The Ohio State University.”

Getting back to my experience, I was dressed very casual in my favorite jeans, new OSU T-shirt and comfortable tennis shoes to face the world at large in a place I had never been to at all. Plus, I did put on some light makeup and partially tied back my increasingly long hair. We were lucky enough to beat the Saturday morning breakfast rush and got a seat as the place was filling up. As I always do, I try to find out if anyone is paying any extra attention to me as Liz and I made our way to our seats. Nobody did except this pesky kid (boy) who would not stop staring at me after we sat down close to where he was sitting. Through it all, I managed to ignore him until his family finished eating and left before we did. Leaving me to completely concentrate on my food and the pleasant conversation that was going on.

As I always point out, being transgender in my daughter’s extended family is not much of an anomaly after all. The nuclear engineer in Maine is trans and my first wife (who is my daughter’s mother) has a transgender man cousin. Diversity runs in the family, whether the naysayers, which are a few, like it or not. My first wife’s in-laws are very redneck conservatives, the same as my ex-communicated brother’s. So, I have not talked to him in over a decade.

My daughter was and is one of my strongest allies and used me as an example to all three of her kids on diversity in the family. She has always been by myside during my male to female feminization journey and I love her deeply for that and how she turned my out-of-control life around when she was born. As a point of reference, she will be fifty years this year and I am trying desperately to come up with something special to do for her but she I like most all of the other ciswomen in my life, they do not have a grasp on what they did for me.

Since now, I spend so much of my time isolated from the real world and because I have mobility issues, I don’t have a chance to match wits with the public anymore and face people such as the pesky kid who would not quit staring at me. It is a good thing he was not sitting at an angle where Liz or my daughter could see him or there could have been some sort of an altercation about having manners. That would have been bad because I am used to fighting my own rare battles. As most kids do, he got bored and turned his attention back to his breakfast. Per norm, is mom was too busy on her phone to be paying any attention to her kids and at least they were not screaming.

Since my daughter’s world is so busy with work and acting as a home care person for her mom, it is difficult for us to put together the time to get together, and I can take advantage of a powerful shot of gender affirmation. Because I can still benefit from it so much and I have always been just me to her and the rest of her extended family no matter what gender I was living as. As a matter of fact, it took me longer to adjust to them accepting the authentic me than them to me. One of the reasons was because the pressure of living an unwanted life was over and I was free to be happy. They knew me better than I knew myself.

More than likely, I won’t have to wait as long as I did this time for another shot of gender affirmation from person who went through my transition with me because my daughter has access to many old pictures of my family I need for my book I am writing for them about my life. She lives in Dayton, Ohio about an hour away from where I live in Cincinnati so it’s not like we live right around the corner from each other. Plus, her big birthday is coming up on Labor Day, so perhaps we can pick up the photos then and if her mother-in-law throws a big party, there will be more gender affirmation for me to selfishly enjoy. Maybe my second wife was right, my gender struggles were all about me.

In many ways, gender affirmation is just another term for having an extended period of gender euphoria. It is just another way of saying that I need to be relieved of my transgender insecurities because they run so deep. Maybe it is because I was forced into that male box, I wanted no part of for so long yet eventually learned to master in so many ways. Or me just wanting to be a transfeminine person was so difficult for me to accomplish, I could never forget the struggle and still bear the scars from him fighting me for control.

Regardless of my insecurities, I still try to keep them hidden around my supporters and do my best to show my appreciation for the gender affirmation they have given me.