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

 

Image from Milada Vigerova
on UnSplash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

What Goes Up Must Come Down

 

Image form Vicky Hladynet
on UnSplash. 

Gender euphoria for me has been a double-edged sword.

The sharp edge of the blade has been the powerful elixir I gained from when I was successful in my early attempts to cross-dress successfully and enter the world. I was well aware of the feelings from my initial view of myself as a perceived pretty girl in my home mirror. Well before I had the courage to leave the house.

On the other hand, the dull side of the blade was the quick coming down I needed to go through after my successful journeys into the world of ciswomen and cismen. But I found early that the women were the ones I needed to concentrate on because they were curious about me. Ciswomen were the most likely to pick me out of a crowd and notice that I was not all that I seemed to be.

To combat my severe ups and downs, I needed to set up and stay on a steady diet of cross-dressing activities. To do my best to always have the joy of gender euphoria to get me by the worst of my gender dysphoric issues. Often, my rhythmic cross-dressing adventures were the only thing which kept me going in life when I became so depressed with a fatalistic “Why me” mentality.

As I learned later in life from one of my therapists, I was a bi-polar depressive which added to my problems of feeling down. When I was down, I was really down and had to force myself out of bed for days at a time. When I got the professional opinion about my depression issues, I was relieved because it was one less thing I could blame on my gender issues. Then I could concentrate on my sword again along with its ups and downs. What I did was expand my ups by doing more when I was out in the world exploring to see if I really was a transgender woman or a serious cross-dresser or what.

When I was out at the bigger shopping venues in nearby Columbus, Ohio, I learned I could be accepted as just another well-dressed feminine shopper looking for gifts from the specialty stores, I went to. Perhaps because I was trying to soothe part of my guilt of not telling my second wife what I was doing, I always tried to buy a little gift for her from one of the big gardening stores I knew about and visited. She was a very dedicated gardener and for a change I could make her happy. Along with me at the same time. At least I was trying to do something positive with my gender euphoria before I started to go home and crash back into my old unwanted male life.

Sadly, after I crashed, I wanted more of my feminine world and when I did not get it I tried to internalize my feelings which only made my life worse. Since I was suffering, I was selfish and wanted everyone around me to suffer too. It got so bad that I nearly lost jobs over my attitude and probably should have lost my marriage too, if my wife was not so strong. That also had its good and bad points. The good was that when we were good, we were very good and when we were bad because of my gender dysphoria, we were very bad. Mainly because my wife had everything as a woman that I envied and I resented her for it. The worst part was she should not have had to suffer along with me on my path of severe ups and downs because I was incapable of explaining either the ups or the downs of my life when I had them. One thing was for sure; the worst move I ever made was internalizing my feelings from my second wife.

To help my ups, I continued a serious program to learn if I really wanted to risk my life as I knew it to live a transfeminine life. How could I risk all that I had built up as a man for such a selfish move which would have far reaching effects past just me. Including my marriage, my family and my employment which were all doing well except for my marriage. I felt as if I was on a run-away train on a dead-end track with my life if I ever faced my truth about who I really was.

At the same time, my downs just had to be worth all the ups I was experiencing. My gender tipping point was rapidly reaching the critical point of no return as I was increasingly carving out a new and exciting life as a trans woman. My confidence was staying at an all-time high and suddenly my dreams might be able to become a reality. The only downs I was experiencing happened when my wife was still alive and I was feeling like I cheated on her with myself every time I snuck out into the world as the new me. I think deep down, I knew our relationship was not going to be sustainable, but I never thought it would be because she would die ahead of me. Naturally, her death hit me hard and at the age of fifty-five I was going back to my drawing board. This time to do much more than re-work how I looked as a woman. Now I needed to determine how I wanted to live out the remainder of my life.

Even with the obvious answer staring me in the face, I managed to still ignore my reality and stumble forward with one foot firmly planted in each of the binary genders. Finally, my male foot began to slip, and I quit fighting the obvious. I was never meant to be a man at all, and I was a woman living a lie and living like a man. When I did, almost all my depression went away, and I was free to live the life I was always destined to live.

As always, thank you for reading along with my lifetime of gender experience. I hope I can help you and comments are appreciated!

 

 

 

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!

 

 

On A Gender Vacation

 

Image from PR Media 
on Ubsplash.

As I matured as a person and a crossdresser, taking a vacation from my male gender became a reality for me.

It all started when I first felt the inclination to try on articles of my mom’s clothing and moved on from there. Very soon, I spent as much time as I could in front of the family’s full-length hallway mirror imagining myself as one of the pretty girls I envied so much. Before my unwanted male puberty set in, I did not have so far to go to be on vacation from my boyhood self. Then the changes set in and I began to develop the body angles and shape of a man as the girls around me were showing off their new curves in pretty clothes.

At that point, vacations became harder to earn, as it was becoming more difficult for me to look like a girl at all and try to work my way around having no knowledge of makeup at all. That chapter of my transgender notebook (like all the others) was empty, and I struggled not to look like a clown in drag at the circus. In a very short time, I became aware that if I was to ever reach my dream of living my life as a transgender woman, I had a long, hard struggle ahead.

It did not make matters any easier when I went on family vacations and saw other girls my age in cars on the highway. One young dark-haired beauty still stands out as one I remember. As I saw her time and time again when we passed on the highway, I so wanted to be like her and put my pillow over my head and pretended to sleep. No imagined vacation for me on the real one. My gender reality was with me all the time.

One way or another as life went on, I needed to do something to survive. Somehow, I needed to break through the bonds of the increasingly complex male life I was living and start to carve out a new transfeminine existence on my own. If my reality was indeed female, I would have to do something about it. What I did was begin to mix business with pleasure on my vacation. Business was when I was learning that ciswomen ran the world I wanted into and pleasure was when I was able to finally blend in until I was allowed behind the invisible but so real gender curtain.  To maintain the lifestyle, I was trying to lead, I needed to do a lot of research and repetition to see if I wanted to be there at all. Those were the nights when I broke away from all the gay venues I was going to and started to see if I could be accepted in lesbian and straight places.

The vacations I took into the world as a new transgender woman turned out to be life changing for me. For once, I did not have to wonder what if would be like to live in the world as a woman and just do it. My time away from my old boring male world, took me into a wonderful new life as the woman I always wanted to be. I was the trans woman at the big sports bar enjoying my large beer as I watched my sports teams play on the big screen televisions. Occasionally, I received some pushback from a toxic man, but it was not enough to deter me from having a good time. Mainly, because of my confidence in who I was building every time I was successful trying out the me, I always should have been. I was not building anything new, just allowing my true self to flourish in the world.

At that point, it occurred to me that my vacations were changing drastically. Instead of believing I was taking vacations from my male self as a trans woman, I was now taking time from my feminine world to allow my male self to finish up important things such as working and keeping up a false image of a man for the world to see until I could fully complete my male to female transition. Since I had accumulated so much male baggage over the years, clean up was not going to be easy. Finally, it occurred to me that transitioning to my new life was going to be an all or nothing proposition…or was it?

A big decision I needed to make was involving my sexuality which had never been a question for me in my male life as I had never been physically attracted to another man ever. It did not help me when I got a suggestion from ciswomen to buy bananas to get ready for a new sex life that never came. Even though I had dates with several cismen, nothing ever sparked within me and we never went anywhere except kissing, Women, on the other hand were different as I still cherished their company which I found they enjoyed mine too as they went on vacation with me. Since HRT hormones took away any possibly of traditional sexual intercourse between me and another woman, by choice I took it off the table.

It all led me to wonder what I would do about sports, the one big passion left in my life. Could I still interact with the world as a passionate sports loving woman or would I have to give it all up. It turned out that no, I did not have to give up my passion, it just changed direction like so many other things in my life. For example, when my lesbian friends and I were talking sports, we did it on an equal footing. But when I talked sports with a man, often I needed to take a back seat to his sports knowledge even though I had plenty of my own. I learned my lessons and moved on.

Even though many of my vacations from life were just quick, cheap escapes, many were extensive, expensive paths to my future life. Plus, they handed out much needed respites for my often-battered mental health as I battled depression and anxiety. It all helped me to survive and make it to my dream goal I never thought I could make it to. A life as a transgender woman.

As always, thanks for not taking a vacation to read and comment on my posts. Your input always means a lot to me!

 

 

If You Don't Try...You Will Never Get There

 

Image from Luis Villasmil
on UnSplash

During our lives as transgender women and transgender men, we come to many obstacles that we have no idea of how we are ever going to get around.

After many early failures in my unwanted life as a boy, it was increasingly evident to me that if I did not attempt to try harder being a girl, I would never have a chance of making it to my dream. In many ways I was stuck between a gender rock and a hard place. On one hand, I was running to hide behind any failures I might have with my dresses and makeup, and on the other, I was making myself afraid to try anything new at all.

It took me years to learn that if you don’t venture into the world outside of your little closet, nothing will be gained. I discovered after I went through male puberty, I had very little to start with as far as having any natural feminine characteristics to work with. Even still, until I got out of the mirror and into the public’s eye, I had no idea of how bumpy my gender path would be.

In the early days, my male ego took it badly and my female ego was hurt deeply when I was laughed at in public. Until I began to take matters into my own hands. In order to improve my feminine presentation, I went on a crash diet which enabled me to fit into and purchase more stylish fashion. I learned to be in the right place at the right time if I really wanted to try to blend in with the ciswomen who ran the world, I wanted to be in. It took time to try more extreme transgender bucket list items I had put together to learn how it would be to live in a woman’s world if I had to try hard enough.

It was about that time that I landed a job with a very successful casual dining restaurant chain who taught me a lot about not being a victim and if I did not try to succeed I wouldn’t. In essence the chain took what I had learned about myself in the military and improved it. Which was just what I needed to take the gender box I was stuck in and find my way out. What I discovered was that most of the world did not care anything about me once I began to learn the basics of not drawing undue attention to myself. Setting me up to try more and more gender trials on my own. Because I had no one else to help me. The mistakes I was making and learning from came from the fact that my gender workbook was blank and the women I could share my secret with left me on my own to learn my own lessons and be a better transgender woman. Once I figured out what that was and how I fit in with the terminology.

It turned out the only ciswoman with any access to me was my second wife who, for the most part, left me alone with my struggles. Only stepping in when I made mistakes causing huge fights. The problem became I had very little public output for my desire to work the world as a trans woman. I became very frustrated and depressed when I had no way to get out and live because deep down, I knew I was on the right path, and I just had to keep on trying. My only regret now is that I would have taken the steps sooner to be myself and not dragged my wife and I through all the torment I was putting us through.

It was not until she passed away, did I find my path again and began to try to actively carve out a life as a trans woman. In order to do it, I needed to have the confidence of my gender convictions that I had never had in the past. For once, I had few other distractions to slow me down and it seemed everyday I was learning and making progress towards a gender dream which had seemed so unlikely in my past. And, for once, I was not doing it on my own as I slowly build a small circle of ciswomen friends to do it. They were able to teach me more about womanhood than they ever knew as they allowed me behind the gender curtain into their world as lesbian women. Somehow, my male baggage which helped me was kept such as my basic mistrust of men since I had been forced into their circles in my life and the fact I could fit in with them image-wise because I was largely a tomboy in my tight jeans and boots.

Through it all, there were a couple of other things I needed to try to improve my world as a transfeminine person. The first was attempting to see if I was healthy enough to be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT. I was and my life improved dramatically as I took on more and more feminine characteristics. The process was so easy, it was as if my body was saying what took me so long for such an important move. The other was the move initiated by my therapist’s permission at the Veterans Administration to have most of my legal gender markers changed. It was the best Christmas gift I ever received when I saw a judge and received my formal name change approval on Christmas Eve which got the ball rolling towards securing a new driver’s license, Social Security Card and getting my VA paperwork changed over. To the gender I always should have been.

I would never have made it through all the dark gender moments in my life. Especially with the added problems of depression and anxiety I had if I had not made it through and kept on trying to reach my dream of being allowed to live fulltime as a transgender woman. It was certainly touch and go until destiny stepped in and helped me along by pushing me back out into the world until I found other women to socialize with. I even played the online dating game and won after sorting through an enormous amount of trash, my wife Liz found me fourteen years ago and have been together ever since. If I had played my old victim cards, there would have been no way I could have ever made it out into the world.

I learned firsthand, if you never try, you will never make it to your dream.

 

 

Trusting the Process

 

JJ Hart Very Early On, 
Trusting the process in a 
rest room. 

One of the hardest things to do as a transgender woman or transgender man, is to trust the process as you continue along your gender path.

Especially when your path is lasting longer and taking you places you never thought of going to. Then you have the probability of picking up more of the gender baggage than you never thought you would. Trusting what you will take with you and what you will leave behind becomes a huge problem.

As you build your new personality, you can use your old gender baggage as positive building blocks if you can take the leap of faith to learn from your past. Perhaps, more than anything else, you must trust in yourself to believe in what others may think of you. This was very important to me as I began to build from my small core of ciswomen friends and have the courage to spread out into society.  I started following my new wife’s Liz lead and joining her spiritual group to start and then spreading out further into other “Meet-Up” groups in Cincinnati which matched our potential interests such joining writers’ groups for me, along with craft groups for Liz. It worked well for me as I was able to work my way out from being so shy around strangers and build more trust in myself.

Trust comes with a couple of drawbacks such as what if your trust is betrayed and how you will ever build trust again. Going way back to my second marriage, I destroyed most of the trust my wife and I developed over the years by breaking the deal I made to never go out of the house alone cross-dressed. I certainly was not proud of what I did but just could not stop myself from doing it. Essentially, I felt as if I was cheating on her with another woman who just turned out to be me and whatever she did was just not good enough for me. As I was busy destroying her trust, she was correct in telling me I made a terrible woman, and it had nothing to do with my appearance. Which at that time meant the world to me.

During this time and beyond, it was difficult for me to try to trust the process I was on during my gender journey. It seemed nothing was going fast enough for me to ever see if I could make it to my ultimate goal of living full-time as a transfeminine person. I guess if you take into account all the years, I spent cross-dressing my life away from the male world I disliked so much, it is no wonder I felt that way.  From start to finish, it took nearly a half a century for my male to female femininization project, which should have been more than enough time to trust the process and have faith where I was going.

My excuse that I always hang onto is that my male life was not that bad and my male self was a powerful ally with my second wife on me ever transitioning into transgender womanhood. And did I trust what all of that meant to me anyhow. I did realize any sort of a gender transition would mean I stood a very real chance of losing all the materialistic male privileges I had built up over the years. In an instance, my spouse, family, friends and job could be wiped out and I would have to start all over again. At that time, I did not think I trusted myself to do it, so my made the worst choice I have made in my life and tried to juggle a life somewhere on the gender border between male and female.

As I am always hesitant to write about, my choice to walk the narrow gender line wrecked my mental health and led me to a self-harm event. I was already diagnosed with being a Bi-Polar depressive person, so it did not take much to send me over the edge. Fortunately, I had a good therapist to help me realize my truth and help me through it. I was slowly coming to a point where I could trust the process and understand where I truly fit into the grand plan of my life the way it always was meant to be. I should have never embarked on any path to being male at all. A place which was foreign to me and I just did not belong. I was no wonder I felt the way I did around other men I was with. Full of mistrust in them for the most part.

Once I was over that hurdle in my life, I needed to begin to trust the world through the eyes of a trans woman which was hard to do. Mainly since I knew the way toxic men treated women from my past. Once again, cis women with their open minds to me joining their club were my secret to building trust again. Even though I still carried the scars from attacks by passive aggressive ciswomen, I was able to build my own new life with a feminine confidence I had never had before. I felt so good, I went ahead with my long-awaited legal name change and even longer awaited plan to be approved for HRT or gender affirming hormones. By doing so, I effectively painted myself into a gender corner I could not escape from. I had to trust the process and not try to turn around no matter how attractive the idea sounded at times when I learned what I was losing with my male privilege being taken away.

Primarily, I lost much of the knowledge of life I had learned as a man as well as needing to keep a closer eye on my personal security. Which was quickly at risk as a transgender woman joining the world for the first time and learning first hand what ciswomen already knew about being around toxic men.

As I said, trusting the gender process path I was on was never easy, but it turned out it was the only path I had.

 

Dreaming in "3-G"

 

Image from Amin RK
on UnSplash.

Dreaming in “3-G” seems to be coming natural for me these days.

Somehow, I have skipped the old two gender dreams I was having and replaced them with a more complex series of dreams I can remember in the morning when I wake up. I call them three gender dreams.  It’s kind of like going from black and white movies back in the day to full color masterpieces.

Here is an example. Recently I was having a dream that I was a guy but later became a woman complete with a new bag of lipstick. I wondered at the time how the lipstick got there but I had no answer as the dream moved on. Also, I have noticed recently that my dreams have been shifting out of my old male world and into my relatively new feminine world. I suppose I was expecting miracles when I thought fifteen years of fulltime transgender life could replace sixty years in the male world. In my subconscious.  

All my gender dreams can be traced back to my earliest days of life when I had vivid dreams of being a pretty girl and being very disappointed when I woke up in the same body every morning. But as I remember, my dreams were all in “2-G” and involved me in one of the two main binary genders, male or female.

I find it interesting that some transgender women or transgender men who I happen to talk about concerning their dreams say they are always their authentic gender self when they dream. When I have always been a mixture. I suppose that it is another complexity of what trans folk go through. The only constant in all my “2-G” or “3-G” dreams I have had over the years is that from most of them I was having a positive experience that I wanted to continue. Such as in my early years when all I really wanted to do was present well enough to make it in public as a transfeminine person. Who could blend in with ciswomen everywhere and not cause any extra attention.

What confused me was when I was starting to successfully lead a trans woman’s life, why it didn’t it follow me more into my dream world. I took what I could get and kept moving on with my own male to female femininization program. Dreams were just an integral part of keeping my gender sanity along the way. They helped with dispersing all the pressure in life I was feeling from juggling two genders. Plus, I have considered too that the anti-depressant and anxiety medications I am on may contribute to the vivid dreams I have been having.

I also find it strange when I have a “3-G” rare negative dream. I would have thought that with all the success I finally had on my gender path, I would not have an ugly dream about someone pulling off my wig in public. Especially since I have not had to wear a wig in almost a decade and never had anyone try to pull mine off when I did. It is my own version of a nightmare-cross dresser style.

At the least, when the “3-G” dreams don’t turn ugly, they are cheap entertainment and I wonder how I got here. When I do, the answer always comes back loud and clear that I made it to the place in life where I always should have been. And my dreams just are a reflection of that.

Maybe too, my dreams are finally transitioning to my current feminine self. Which is currently making the transition to just being the me I needed to be. “2-G” or “3-G” dreams should not matter anymore as they are just a needed respite from the real world we transgender individuals must put up with.

No matter where your dreams lead to, I hope they find you in a good place in this sometimes-negative world we live in today. We need all we can get to lead a quality life away from all the gender haters and bigots and a little daydream of how your future could be can never hurt anyone.

This is just a little shorter post than you are used to seeing from me today as I have to get mentally prepared for my Veterans Administration assigned psychiatrist virtual visit. I thought it would be a fun time to write about the effect dreams of all kinds have on our lives as trans people.

Good night!

 

 

 

 

Staying in Rhythm as a Trans Woman

 

JJ Hart gaining my rhythm with women.
I ma in first row on left.

 

It took me years to get into rhythm as a new transgender woman when I no longer considered myself a weekend cross-dresser.

The main problem I had was I needed to go back and forth between my male life and the feminine life I was trying desperately to learn. My wife and I had come to an uneasy truce about my increasing need to explore the world of ciswomen. She thought it was fair that I took three days out of my week to cross-dress and would even see that I had the money to go to a motel to complete my male to female femininization. Anything but me leaving the house dressed as me.

As you can tell, that was more than a fair deal but not a deal I could keep. Every time I was getting used to the makeup, clothes and movements of being a woman, I had to have it all taken away with a jolt of reality when I had to go back fulltime into my unwanted male world. Before long, I grew tired of the truce and having my gender rhythm destroyed and started to leave the house as me any time I wanted. As with most good times, my brief on an off life as a transgender woman was threatened with ending as my second wife discovered me time after time, I had excuses for being dis-honest and jeopardizing the good marriage I had but deep down I had no choice if I wanted to keep my feminine rhythm going.

Through all the good times and bad times with my second wife, I was learning what it would take for me to express my femininity and it was all me who drove us to our breaking point. More than once when I tried things such as gender therapy to curb my desires to be a woman. The only time that therapy helped me was when I was diagnosed with being a Bi-Polar depressive person which said a lot to me. Mainly it explained why I was spending days at a time not wanting to get out of bed and others when I thought I could conquer the world and it had nothing to do with being transgender. After trying several medications, I did not tolerate well, I found some that I could, and they keep my moods stable to this day. I was able to work my depression issues into my life and build them into the rhythm so I could live a good life.

Even with all the success I was having on my depression medications, I still had to face the problems I had switching back and forth between the two main binary genders. Most of the time on a daily basis. As I would rush home from work, pull off my shirt and tie and be the woman I always wanted to be until my wife came home. I was able to juggle my genders and make some sort of a life with all of this until the untimely passing of my wife from a massive heart attack at the age of fifty. Even though we never saw eye to eye on my transfeminine desires, I still loved her deeply and our marriage made it to the twenty-five-year mark.

Naturally, the whole tragic deal sent me into a tailspin, and I had to figure out what to do about my all of a sudden very lonely life. Was I going to go back to try to establish a male life with another ciswoman or get rid of my male life altogether and start all over as a transgender woman.

By this time in my life, I did not want to try another relationship with a ciswoman I would have to lie to, so the answer was clear. Take all the time and effort I had put into building my new rhythm as a trans woman and head for a new life. All the time and effort I put into presenting as well as I could as a woman, as well as communicating well as one too came back to help me. Confidence as well as an extreme amount of destiny opened doors for me that I never thought possible would happen. As my third wife Liz told me very few people ever have the opportunity to stop their lives, learn from their mistakes, and start over again. Don’t screw it up.

I took the insight I received from my time as a man observing how ciswomen live around them and tried to mold that into a new life. Because I fell into the arms of loving women during my male to female transition, I did not have to worry about such rhythms such as my sexuality ever becoming an issue. I had always desired women sexually as a woman myself, and nothing had to change. Add in my passion for history and sports and I hit the trifecta of being exactly in the place I wanted to be. Through it all, I could not believe it was all finally happening to me after all the years of sneaking around and struggling with my gender.

Better yet, I had reached the point where if I looked like a woman, walked like a woman and communicated as a woman, then I was a woman. Even though I did not gain my status the same way most women do. Their gender rhythm came naturally while I needed to work to find mine was the only difference.

Even though I was a slow learner when it came to learning to finally live how I was always meant to live, I was a survivor which was all that mattered and when I learned my feminine rhythm I never had to let it go.

As always, thanks so very much for reading along with my exploits in exploring the transgender world. Any comments you might have are always appreciated!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Nothing Else Mattered

 

Image from Klara Khokhlova
on UnSplash. 

Perhaps, similar to many of you, you have been described as selfish when you pursued your gender desires. I know, I was by my second wife as she told me many times my desire to be a pretty cross-dresser in my life was not all about me.

During this time of my life, sadly or not, all my spare thoughts and time dedicated to my cross-dressing activities, so yes, it was all about me. I did my best not to be that way, but I was failing miserably. Especially when I figured it out, I could leave the house as me and do a portion of the household chores such as grocery shopping. I figured by doing so, I was helping my wife and at the same time helping myself.

The more proficient I became at doing my new portion of some of the weekday household chores, the more I felt that nothing else mattered to me than my quest to explore my inner femininity. Increasingly, I broke the rules and made excuses to leave the house and explore the new, natural and exciting world I was experiencing.

As years always do, mine flew by in a blur as I became more proficient in perfecting my feminine appearance and it began to be more apparent to me that the life as I was living as a man would have to be sacrificed at some point if I wanted to pursue my dream goal of living as a transfeminine person. That is when I began to fall back on my ill-fated male habits of internalizing all my feminine feelings. Hoping that eventually, they would just go away. Compliments of my latest purge of my cross-dressing belongings.

Very soon, it became evident that all the purging in the world would not rid me of my deep-seated gender issues and nothing else began to matter, not even the massive fights my second wife and I were having when she caught me out of the house as myself. I would go to any extent possible to try to mend the wounds from my breaking the promises not to ever go out again unattended, all the way to promising I would go to a therapist in Columbus, Ohio who specialized in gender care to attempt to solve my “problem.” Even then, I would not listen to the therapist who told me that my gender issues were not a “problem”, and there was nothing she could do about them. I made the mistake again of thinking there was something radical I could do about how I was attempting to live my life. I could keep trying to sneak out of the house and try to learn more about my possibilities of living life as a transgender woman, while at the same time continue to live with my wife. She always know I was a cross-dresser but was completely dead set against me going any further towards being approved for gender affirming hormones (HRT) and living as my authentic self.

Perhaps the biggest problem was I was not sure what my authentic self really was. I knew I loved my second wife as much as the day I married her years before, but I really was not sure of how deep my transgender issues were going to run. Plus, all the research I was doing into a new life, jeopardized my old life which at times was not so bad because I was accumulating all the male privileges such as wife, family and job that I did not necessarily want to get rid of. The whole situation just mentally tore me up as I did not know what gender I was going to be from day to day. Was I going to try to be my true self or go out into the world again and “act” like the strong man I was not.

It all led me to feeling completely detached from the world and wanting to end it all because I felt so worthless to everybody. Fortunately, after I hit rock bottom, I got help from a good therapist and was prescribed medications which helped my on-going Bi-polar disorder and anxiety. It turned out my anxiety was triggered in many ways by my gender issues so that was easier to solve, but my depression was not so my new meds really helped. Giving credit to where credit is due, my help came through the Veterans Administration health care system and as luck would have it, I was teamed up with a therapist who knew what she was doing when it came to depression and LGBTQ care.

By this time, my second wife had tragically passed away from a major heart attack leaving me totally alone with my thoughts. Quickly, since nothing else mattered, I took the path of least resistance into my own form of womanhood. All those dues I was paying as a cross dresser working with my appearance came back to help me when I could hit the ground running in my heels (not really) and concentrate on rounding out my persona of the trans woman I wanted to me in the world of alpha cis women around me. I was able to see and learn from what they did to make their lives more fulfilling as women, and I wanted to do that too. I was having fun while at the same time was secretly learning everything I could from the ciswomen around me.

Most certainly, nothing else mattered when I sought out approval for my gender affirming hormones from a doctor I found in an LGBTQ newspaper. Along with the hormones, I was putting my new life together by legally changing all the gender documents I could with the VA and in the civilian world. Very soon, my old male life was in my past and my “dead” name faded away.

The only thing that did matter was building a new life with my third wife Liz, a lesbian ciswoman who accepted me for what I was. I could not let a second chance such as that pass me by.

 

 

Transgender Challenges

 

Image from Beta Builders
on UnSplash. 

For me, the challenges of being a transgender woman ran deep and came often.

The first challenges I faced were just keeping my small collection of feminine belongings secret from my younger brother and parents. From there, my dealings with my cross-dressed self and the world only would intensify as I grew up. Very soon, the move from closet to the mirror would not be enough to satisfy my gender curiosity, and I began to leave the house when I could dress in my clothes and makeup for small walks to our rural mailbox. As puberty took its toll, finding anything to wear became my biggest problem because I was outgrowing my short mom’s clothing. She was only five foot two.

Somehow, I beat the challenge of keeping my deep gender secret to myself and kept up my routine of taking every spare moment to satisfy my desire to be a girl. Of course, it took me awhile to come close to perfecting anything which came close to being acceptable when it came to applying makeup and even shaving my legs. Which I was probably sneaking around and doing before most of the girls I was around who I envied so much. As it turned out, the magic of makeup really escaped me until I had the courage to accept the challenge of having a professional makeup artist do my makeup (and explain what he was doing) at a transgender-cross dresser social I was attending in Columbus, Ohio years later. The makeup pro taught me the basics of foundation, contouring, eyes and lips among other helpful tips. All the compliments I received showed me I was indeed on the right path I had chosen in life, and I could at least expect to fit in with other ciswomen in the world on a regular basis.

Then, as I always point out, the real work and challenge of what I was setting out to do set into my life. At the same time my male counterpart was beginning to establish himself as a successful person in his chosen career. As much as my self-destructive personality kept trying to tear down all he accomplished, it never worked, and he succeeded anyway. Which meant he was increasing the amount of potential baggage I would have to account for if I was ever going to reach my goal of living as a successful transfeminine person.

What hurt me was when I miscalculated what it was going to take to live the life I always dreamed of. The challenge was making the jump of just looking similar to a ciswoman, all the way to having a basic idea of how she lived her life. A great example of how my cross-dressing fun and games became very serious when just after I decided to go full time as a trans woman and had given away all my male clothes, my wife Liz’s dad passed away and I needed something appropriate to wear to the viewing and funeral. I was fortunate that I had several items of clothing in black, so I could be properly dressed for the occasion. A long way from the day-to-day life I was expecting to challenge me as I went through my male to female femininization project.

It turned out to be a huge step in my life when I finally accepted the challenge to live the life, I was always destined to live. I was no longer the lost kid in the mirror desperately cross-dressing his life away dreaming of a world he could not be part of. I was a full-fledged adult with a rapidly clearing view of the challenge ahead if she wanted to survive. Perhaps you noticed I used the “she” pronoun as I increasingly adopted it as my referred self. It made me feel more complete as a transgender woman. If I did not believe in myself at this point of my life, how could I convince the world who I was anyhow.

The next big challenge to me was seeing if I could be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT which I am still on (thankfully) to this day. Before I did anything with the hormonal challenge, I knew I would have to seek out a doctor’s approval to see if I was healthy enough to do it. I was able to find an ad for a doctor in nearby Dayton who said he specialized in hormonal care and I made the appointment which would change my life forever.

In our first meeting, the doctor gave me a brief physical, asked me a few questions about what I knew the HRT would do to me and started me on a minimum dosage to see if there would be any ill effects. There were not, and very soon I was on a larger dose of the magical hormones my body seemed to take to naturally and the changes to my body were on. In fact, the changes began to happen so fast, the challenge then became to move up my timetable on when I was going to give up what was left of my male existence. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide my growing breasts, softening skin and long hair from the public and all the internal changes such as emotions from myself. I finally had enough and embarked on the greatest challenge of my life at the age of sixty. I put nearly half of a century of a part-time cross-dressing life behind me and never looked back.

Destiny helped me too, when the Veterans Administration health care system which I was a part of began to treat gender dysphoria in veterans with hormonal care. I needed again to go through the approval process and made it again as it seemed as if the challenges would never end. It was worth it because it tied me in with the VA’s mental health system for my depression and anxiety issues. As luck would have it, I was paired up with a mental health professional who I was with for years and helped me with all my issues such as having my legal gender markers changed within the VA and society at large.

I guess the challenge of any first-time experience can be traumatic for any human being. It just seems unfair that transgender women and transgender men have more than their fair share of challenge.

 

 

 

 

What Kind of Man was I?

 

Image from Christian Lue
on UnSplash.

I had a good question on one of the blogging platforms I write for the other day. The person asked a simple but relevant question about what kind of a man I was before I went down the strenuous male to female femininization I chose for my life.

Here is how I replied: Thanks for the question. In my former male life, I did the best I could to be successful and hide my true self from the world. Early on, I played football and worked on cars to essentially build a wall to keep the teenaged bullies away. From there, I went off to college and earned my first degree, a bachelor’s in history before I was swept off into the Army during the Vietnam years.

After the Army which I was honorably discharged from after three years away from being able to express my feminine self, I ended up jumping back into my cross-dressing ways and eventually getting married for the first time and fathering a daughter. Once again, I was doing my best to do the all the right things to make the world think I was a “normal” male which of course I always struggled with.

From there, I jumped out of the radio business and into the tavern venue world when a friend of mine and I bought a small neighborhood bar where we lived. My dad described it best by saying it had two doors, so the flies did not have to stop when they went through the bar. He always had away with words. At any rate, the bar did not make it long, but my ownership of the building did. Initially I did not want the responsibility of property ownership but was talked into it by my dad. I think at the time, I did not want the extra pressure of owning anything I would have to get rid of as extra baggage if I decided to make the jump from one gender border to another.

I stayed in my male mode and managed to turn the failed bar into a successful pizzeria until I was drinking too much and lost it too. I was trying to over medicate myself as I ran from my depression and anxiety issues, along with the major problem I had which was of course I wanted to be a woman more than anything else. During this time also, I managed to sneak in another degree, an associates in business, from a local college to take advantage of my veterans’ benefits.

By this time, you can see the theme of my life was not a good one. Anything successful I did, I managed to destroy because of my gender issues. I even lost our house I bought off the GI bill.

Ironically, my life began to turn around when I met the first of the two most influential women in my life. The woman I met worked at a radio station I worked for after I was discharged from the Army and was trying to run the pizzeria successfully. I was literally swept off my feet and ended up divorcing my first wife and marrying the second woman. By the way, both women knew of my cross-dressing desires before we were married. It turned out I was man enough to stay married to her for twenty-five years before she suddenly passed away, wrecking my life for several years before I could rebuild it.

During the twenty-five years I went through with my second wife, I began to really learn I was not the man I used to be as I felt myself transitioning again from cross-dresser to transgender woman. In the meantime, I had thrown my old baggage caution to the side and had built a successful career for myself in the restaurant industry. By the time she passed on, I had built was too much spousal support, family, friends and jobs to casually risk it all and transition. Although it was always my dream to do so. Being the man I was meant I would have to give up the positions I held with civic organizations in town too. I felt flattered to be a part but at the same time never felt really at home there.

After I had given up any hope of ever finding anyone else to be with the rest of my life, I met my future wife Liz, and she was instrumental in pushing me into pursuing HRT by telling me she had never seen any male in me to start with. Her gentle push was all I needed to give away all my male clothes and stop the charade I was living life as a man.

I guess you could say that although I tried hard to be a successful man, I kept trying to destroy any success I had. It took a series of good women to show me the way to where I should have been all along, living my dream of being a transfeminine person fulltime.

My first wife went with the flow and did not seem to care what I did, my second wife approved of my cross-dressing but totally disapproved of HRT and any idea I was transgender, and my third wife totally helped me along. Out of the manhood I never wanted. The only woman left to mention was my internal one who (not so patiently) had to wait for her turn to do more than survive as she needed to thrive for a change.

I hope this answers the question of what kind of man I was before a jumped out of the man’s club and into the girl’s sandbox. I led a complex life of failure and success as a man but never felt as if I was doing the right thing. I was fortunate when good people came along to save me from my self-destructive self. Without them, I doubt if I could have ever made it to the place, I am today.

Thanks for the question! I appreciate any response I get from all of you plus any claps and subscriptions you send my way.

 

 

 

 

 

New Therapy Visit

 

JJ Hart with "Brutus" Buckeye
at Columbus, Ohio. 

As promised in a recent post, I am passing along the results of my new psychiatrist visit this morning.

First of all, I needed to run the waiting room gauntlet after I got checked in. The woman checking me in was very nice and I had no problems with my pronouns which was different from the past. After that, I needed to walk past the rest of the waiting room men waiting for their appointments. When I did, I received the usual number of stares and glares I normally get, so I was not upset over anything new.

Very quickly, my new therapist came out to greet me. I was relieved when he turned out to be a younger man as I have found to be more accepting of gender situations such as transgender women and trans men.

As we started to go through my past, I was surprised at all the information the Veteran’s Administration mental health system acquired on me during my previous appointment. All I needed to do was fill in the many blanks he asked me. Immediately, I tested him by telling him my former fulltime psychiatrist separated my transgender issues with my struggles with depression and anxiety. He agreed with me that the issues I have are separate and should be treated separately. Furthermore, coming out in the world and expressing myself as a transgender woman fulltime had helped me express that side of my personality, the help never resolved my other issues.

Other issues we covered in-depth were my suicide and self-harm attempts. It was decided my medications were working and we should stay on the course for the most part. Those were the difficult issues we talked about and others we finished up with included my childhood and military service.

This appointment marked the next to the last move from all my care from the Dayton, Ohio VA hospital to the Cincinnati VA. All I have left to do is my endocrinology doctor services from Dayton to Cincinnati which could be the most difficult move of all. My next appointment is coming up early in May and I need a refill on my Estradiol prescription. With the current situation in Washington, I do have a constant paranoia that my HRT hormones can be cut off at anytime by the VA under direct supervision of the orange war criminal. I think what I am going to do now is go ahead and get my refill then try to transfer my needs down here and close out my need to deal with Dayton at all. As a point of reference, Dayton VA is in close proximity to where I used to live before I moved the nearly one hundred miles to move in with my wife Liz.

From there, my appointment was over and my next visit was up as a virtual appointment in three months. I finished the early morning off by stopping at our favorite coffee shop, drive through and picking up coffee and a breakfast sandwich. I am happy to say the shop’s LGBTQ flag is still up on the wall and the young man at the window probably was gay and very friendly to me. All the better for me and the perfect ending to a great morning.

Just a short post to check in on my progress with my VA mental health care which has overall been a very positive experience over the years. When I started many years ago, I had to educate everyone about what a transgender woman was all about. These days, they know and I don’t have to.

Fortunately, I did not have to explain myself this morning and I look forward to my next appointment.