Living the Transgender Reality

 

Image from Brian Kyed
on UnSplash. 

For me, living a life as a transgender woman was much different than my life as a cross dresser.

I mention it because of the comments I receive here mentioning those of you who may be on different phases of your gender journey and are on the gender balance beam. Such as regular reader “Michelle” who commented: That “gender balance beam” you described? God, it brought me back. The confusion, the hope, the guilt, the not-knowing—all of it. And the way you talk about HRT, how your body just... knew? That hit me so hard. I’m still early in my journey, but reading stories like yours gives me hope that it can work out. Even if it’s messy and hard."

Thanks for the comment! Yes, somehow my body knew I had just made the right choice when I started gender affirming hormones under a doctor’s care. As far as the balance beam went, I have never been coordinated enough to stay on any sort of object, but somehow, I was able to stabilize myself several times and live a transfeminine reality.

Backtracking just a bit, this morning I read a thoughtful post on Stanas' Femulate blog which went into how women accept (or don’t) when their men come out to them as cross dressers. In my case, I write excessively on how my second and third wives interacted when confronted with my gender issues.

The entire interaction was a story of contrasts between the two women who never had the chance to meet when my second wife passed away. My second wife knew of my cross dressing before we were married, and it was never an issue for her. Although she never let on, she never liked the feminine version of me at all. The problem arose as it became increasingly evident, I was much more than your average cross dresser, as I increasingly slid towards my reality of being a transgender woman. The problems all of this gender turmoil created were never her fault. They were mine because I refused to face the reality of who I really was regardless of the costs.  She was well within her rights to refuse me any help as I moved towards my gender dream which would not include her, and I understood that.

Now, on to my third wife Liz. I have been with her for over a decade now. In many ways, she is the exact opposite of my second deceased wife. Liz met me online in a woman seeking woman chat room and rescued me from a very dark time in my life. I was falling off the balance beam. After many months of chatting back and forth, we decided to meet up for our first date with a couple of other women at a drag show.

At the time, I was still reluctant to finish my male to female gender transition. I was living a minimum amount of time as a man, and I had not started hormones yet. The reality of transitioning was still sinking in. After a few months of being around Liz, she told me she had never seen any male in me so what was I waiting for? All I needed to do was make a doctor’s appointment and start HRT and within a very short period of time move in with her in Cincinnati. So, I was able to make a clean start as a transgender woman.

As you can tell, during my life I have been blessed to be with several women who loved me and I learned from all three, including my first wife who I saw just last week as she is the mother of my only child. Even though she only knew me as a crossdresser, we still get along.

Any way you cut it, coming out to a woman you are in a relationship with is one of the most difficult realities of being a cross dresser or transgender woman. I think women who accept us are saints for putting up with such a unique set of challenges. What hurt me the most was my second wife agreeing to me becoming the best woman I could become then not liking the feminine person I was becoming. In all fairness to her, I did go through many changes in my reality when I transitioned and she passed away before meeting the true me. I doubt if there was any way we could have stayed together but maybe we could have been friends.

Maybe you can use the old marriage pun: Life is a bitch until you marry one. And change it around to being transgender is a bitch, until you become one. The truth of transgender reality?

 

 

Painting Myself into a Corner

 

Image from UnSplash.

I was always an adequate house painter and not much more.

Possibly my biggest problem was ever finishing a project. Every time I would start, I got bored and quit before the project was done. There were even times when I would unknowingly paint my way into corners. Little did I know, all of this would carry into my life as a cross dresser and later a transgender woman.

Like many of you, I started experimenting with my mom’s clothes which I became attracted to at a young age. It was most likely a carryover from watching mom (and admiring) put on her “face” or makeup as she called it. I wanted to see how the whole girl package worked for me. At that point, I began to place myself in danger of painting myself in a corner I could not get out of. The corner I am referring to is being caught and facing irreplaceable damage to my life as I knew it in a male dominated family. As the oldest son, I was expected to carry on a macho tradition.

The problem was of course I did not want anything to do with male tradition because I was enjoying my alone time cross dressing as a girl so much. I worked onward on my feminine artwork, as I sought to buy my own makeup and pantyhose from my allowance and newspaper route money. Then I experimented with my limited time until I became a little bit better and did not look like a clown in drag. I was slowly finding my voice as a transfeminine woman.

The more I discovered, the more I risked painting myself into a corner. When I was in the corner, sometimes I paused to look around for a reality check. An example was the night I was in one of my regular venues dressed to fashionably blend in with the rest of the women and I needed to discover if I wanted to escape the corner I was in at all. It turned out I loved the real me and wanted more time out of my closet. I was beginning to learn who I really was, but it turned out I would have many more corners to paint myself into. Such as settling into one new person and not changing each time I went out into the public. I was shocked how quickly people remembered me; I needed to wear the same wig as a start to solidify my future in the world as a transgender woman. In a way, the experience was boring because I was always enjoying my newfound ability to shop in wig stores for the so-called perfect hair after waiting all those years to do it.

Another of the major corners I painted myself into was how I ended up just pursuing the basics of communicating with an all-new world. I never expected people (particularly other women) would ever want to talk to me as a woman because they rarely wanted to as a man. My guess is the women were just curious about me wanting to be in their world, or just I did not threaten them anymore when they let me behind their gender curtain.

In many ways, my decision to undertake gender affirming hormones was me painting myself into a corner was the biggest risk I had ever taken. Undertaking HRT was my own ride or die. Either I made it as a transgender woman with the help of hormones would preclude me ever going back to a male life I never asked for, or I would have to find another way out. Spoiler alert: I was fortunate when I cleared the medical screening, I needed to begin what I considered to be lifesaving hormones, and I flourished. My decision could be compared to a gender insurance policy. I was making sure I was successful when I finally synced up my inner and outer selves.

Today, I have put down my paint brush and concentrated on living my life as a supported transfeminine person. Sure, I confuse some people with how to refer to me, but that is their problem not mine. They need to be educated to the world anyhow. Transgender women and transgender men are not their enemy, but their ignorance is. I filled my world with acceptance from a loving world and watched many other people paint themselves into their own corners. I took many risks along the way to do it and out of sheer will power to do it.

I have felt the depths of loneliness, all the way to having a new family all my own (except my daughter of course, she was always there). I don’t think I would recommend such a unique human journey to anyone else, but it was anything but boring.  As a painter, I have finally come close to finishing a project.

 

 

 

 

The Second Act

 

JJ Hart doing Trans Wellness Outreach. 

Will the second act of life be better and more successful than the first? How many people even get a second chance?

That is the question I needed to answer when I finally shed my male life and entered a transfeminine existence. Since I did it at the age of sixty, I have had plenty of ground to catch up with. Many times, it seemed I never would. My internal gender clock was moving one step forward and two steps back as I attempted to transition. I had times when the picture was clear in my mind, and I was able to put it into motion. Such as the night I took myself out to see a major Christmas light display in a nearby village and was warmly accepted in my soft bulky sweater, leggings and boots. Then, as I rode the wave of gender dysphoria, I would do something wrong such as how I was moving. I am fond of saying, I looked like a linebacker in drag.

The problem was, if I relaxed at all going into the second act of my life, I had the tendency to fall back into old habits. I was learning the hard way over and over, to take nothing for granted in my new life. Many times, I tried and failed not to be too hard on myself since I was making up for a first act in my life which lasted so long, and I had to concentrate so much on it just to survive. It was around this time when my male self really began to set up roadblocks on my gender path. Suddenly, he began to see that this road I was on was not a phase or joke and I was deadly serious.  He started to ask questions such as how I was going to live in my second act with no job and how I was prepared to do it without the wife I dearly loved and had been married to for nearly twenty-five years. To be sure, all very real and very scary questions.

I put off deciding my life as long as I could as I attempted to learn if I could really live a transfeminine life at all. Were the obstacles insurmountable or not. Through it all, the one overriding feeling which kept me searching was the deep down feeling I was doing the right thing. I was headed in the direction I should have been going in my life all along and I kept going through the ups and downs of transitioning into my second act.

Once it was clear I was successfully transitioning into my second act, I needed to make sure I was doing it correctly. It turned out I had all the help I needed. In addition to the cisgender women I always mention, there was one important person I don’t mention enough. That person turned out to be very real and important to me. She was my inner feminine person who had been waiting for all those years and decades for her chance to fully come out into the world. Once she finally did, she knew completely what to do and what was ahead for my second act of my life. Mainly, all the nuances of life as a woman if I really wanted to go there. She knew the best part of my life was yet to come.

More importantly, I had finally made it through the bleak years when often I thought there would be no tomorrow. Or at least my dream of living a feminine life would never be realized. Often it set off a series of insecurities in myself which set back my life. Act one was bleeding because I could not get to act two.

When I finally made it to my second act, it was as if I had lifted a heavy weight off my shoulders, and I came to a point where I needed to be more understanding and approachable in the world. I could not get away with the old male ways of internalizing my feelings and start living again. If I did try to hide as a transgender woman, I would never have a chance to provide myself with a positive outlook to other women and not come off as an unfriendly transfeminine woman which was the last thing I wanted or was.

Since I was one of the few humans who ever had the chance to stop their life and begin again so there was no way I could mess it up. I needed to enjoy life and live it the best I could.  

Riding the Gender Merry go Round

 

Image from Stanley Kustamen 
on UnSplash. 

Catching the gender merry go round when it was in mid-spin was never easy. As I always point out, I had no workbook on how to achieve my feminine desires that were available to me.

I often wondered what magical experiences were available to the girls around me but were off limits to me. What did the girls really learn about being feminine from each other? Was makeup one of them? I was jealous because I had none of the early basics of applying makeup. The closest I came when I was painting the model cars I had. I never was very good at skillfully painting cars, so I wondered how I would ever be good at painting myself. Enamored, I remember watching my mom apply her makeup as I looked for any small hints I could follow but I never seemed to learn.

Of course, there was much more to jumping on a spinning merry go round than just skillfully applying makeup. There were clothes to worry about too, and how could I afford them on the very limited budget I was on. I resorted to taking any small jobs I could as a kid to augment the meager allowance I received at home. In fact, my major source of income was a neighborhood newspaper route I took on. When I added all my funds up, I usually had enough money to buy my own makeup, panty hose and other rare items such as a pair of shoes I was lucky to find.

Once I was able to be confident in my ability to jump on the merry go round, then I needed to worry about hanging on. In the early days of my public explorations, I was having a very difficult time presenting well at all and I often was laughed at by others on the merry go round until I began to learn what I was doing wrong, and I could fill out my feminizing presentation workbook. It was a win for me when I could quit using crayons on my face and use them to color my workbook, I was less and less a clown in drag, and more and more an androgynous person for the public to judge my gender. For once, I could rightfully claim my seat along others on the merry go round because I had earned my spot as much as they did.

After a while, the spinning became too much for me and challenged my fragile mental health. The biggest problem I had was my refusal to face myself and my innermost truth. I was never a man cross dressing as a woman; I was a woman cross dressing as a man my entire life. The basic thought of who I really was consumed all my spare thinking. I am amazed now how much I still accomplished in my life as I suffered my mental duress. At times, it seemed my merry go round was spinning completely out of control. Plus, at the same time, I kept accumulating extra male lifetime baggage I did not really want. Sadly, the life I was living kept me from making very many close friends because I just thought I was knowing them under some sort of false pretense. I wasn’t the man they saw before them; I was a fake. Which I hated and added to my problems.

I finally came to the point where I needed to either slow down my merry go round or get off altogether. I just couldn't take it any longer. I certainly was not getting any prizes for putting myself through the anguish of staying on. I had given my ride the best shot I could, and I needed to grow in my transgender womanhood. I had tried my best to outrun and out drink my gender issues, and it was time to face the reality of who I was.

When my merry go round glided to a stop and I was able to look ahead to the new life I was about to enter. I was excited to see and live my feminine reality. I had filled out my workbook and paid my dues and was ready to go. The next time I was at an amusement park I could really enjoy the experience as a transgender woman. If anyone in the world did not like it or approve of me, I didn’t care. I had spent a major portion of my life thinking I was in the wrong. When in fact, the bigots were the ones in the wrong and they were the riders who needed to get off the merry go round first.

Adjusting to Gender Change

 

Image from Fab Lentz on Unsplash.

Adjustment to gender change was never easy for me.  

Two of the biggest initial problems came when I realized that I had too few feminine characteristics to help me start. Being seen as a so called “normal” male did help me keep the bullies away but provided me no help when I was attempting to cross dress as a girl for the mirror. Plus, all along I knew the problem of looking like a girl was just going to get worse as I grew older and enter puberty. In the worst way, I wanted to add curves to my body and not the masculine angles I was getting. By this time, I was building a secure dark gender closet to protect me from the world, and it saved me many times from being caught.

The other big problem was, I did not know what I was doing when I was trying to femininize myself. I had none of the peer support (or criticism) from the girls around me to aid me in the way I appeared in the public’s eye. My makeup alone I feared made me look like a clown in drag. It took me years of work in the mirror before I had the confidence to go out in public as a cross dresser or novice transgender woman. Which was just beginning to be understood.

I also needed years to develop the courage to even try to go out into the world. Eventually, after quite a bit of failure, I experienced enough success to finally build confidence to build myself to a point I could own who I was. Being true to myself meant entering a room and feeling confident in my identity.  It also meant when I was ridiculously dressed as a teen and was getting laughed at or attracting unwanted attention, I still had to own it until I could make it home and change. From that point forward, I began to seriously adjust my wardrobe and fashion choices to dress to blend in with the other women around me. By doing so, I finally left the male in myself behind. I understood women ran the world in their own way, and to enter, I needed to change my thought pattern about my gender life significantly.

Out went the very short miniskirts and shorts and in came leggings, boots and jeans. I was haunting the thrift stores so often, I thought a few of them were beginning to know me. Ironically, I received pushbacks from others in the cross-dressing community for my fashion choices. Several went out of their way to tell me I could wear pants anytime I wanted as a man, why would I want to wear pants when I was a woman. I came to the point where I responded I did not need clothes to define my transgender womanhood. Or my gender is between my ears, and my sex is between my legs. Plus, it was not as if I was that butch when I dressed as a woman. I normally always wore my heels and makeup with my slacks and blouses when I went out. I did not know it at the time, but I was developing my later life as a femme transgender lesbian.

As stubborn as I always was, I still was insecure in my own way and needed reinforcement in my transgender womanhood. That is when going out to the new venues I had discovered helped me along. Repeating the same movements repeatedly as a trans woman, helped me along towards my goal of living fulltime and I could see the results of my efforts in life very personally in the public’s eye. When I discovered my lifelong dream of living as a woman could be within reach, I needed to go for it.

At that point in time, my battle of genders really set in. To put it mildly. My male self was not ready to give up what remained of his life at the age of sixty. Essentially, he wanted to know if I could afford to make the transition and give up all the white male privilege, he had worked a lifetime to build up. On the other hand, my up-and-coming feminine side was arguing at my age, it was now or never as far as a gender transition was concerned. The hardest part of my gender work was already done.

I had spent the greatest part of fifty years having to adjust to gender change, and I was more than ready to attempt the final jump to start HRT or gender affirming hormones to aid in the process. Your results may vary but, in my case, my entire life was never easy. As I view it now, it was worth the effort to adjust to a gender change.

 

Trans Girl at a Drag Show

 

Rubi Girls, Dayton Ohio.

Very early on when I started to explore the public, once again I felt as if I did not fit in. Specifically, when I went to gay venues, especially the venues with drag shows. 

Although I knew many of the other patrons viewed me as just another drag queen, I knew I was much different. For the most part most of the queens I had met were gay men doing their best to perform on stage as women. There were very few transgender women on stage I could identify with. Even so, the local shows were places I could go to be safely entertained. Even still, I became bored with the same old, same old and began to seek out other venues I could go to. That is when I began to go to the well documented shifts to sports bars I had frequented as a man. 

Drag shows unexpectedly became a part of my life again when I began to develop friendships with other cisgender women. Going to shows became the cool thing to do and since I was the link to the performances in their minds, I just had to come along for the girls' nights outs. Which I loved. Most of the women I went out with in the small group just assumed I had more connection with the entertainment that I did. But who was I to say they were wrong, and I went along for the ride. 

It was not until much later when I finally was able to make the differentiation to all my women friends, how much different I was than the drag queens we were watching. The first big show I attended after coming out was when I was invited to go with my daughter and all her women friends when they all were invited to go to a drag troupe called the "Rubi Girls" in Dayton, Ohio. The group of performers is very famous in the region and has even raised millions of dollars to benefit AIDS research.

Effectively, it was my first girls' night out with my daughter and I did not want to let her down. I was scared and prepped overly well for the evening, as I knew I had to blend in with what my daughter's friends were wearing. Since I was just coming out as a transgender woman, my daughter decided only a select few of the attendees would even know I was her parental unit. Once my fear went away, I was able to talk to a few of the other women around me and immensely enjoyed the show. The whole evening proved to be one of the best drag experiences I had until my first date with my future wife Liz. 

This time, the group of women I went with was much smaller, as was the venue which was approximately halfway between Cincinnati and Dayton, Ohio. It meant the drive was easier for both of us since we had not moved in together yet. Again, I was careful not to overdress the other cisgender women in the group and attempted not to be so scared. Afterall, it was just another drag show in a gay venue. Everyone seemed to have a good time, including me when I put away my bias against drag performers and was just being me. All the women around me realized I was much different than the talent we were watching. I was closer to them than the drag women who were gay men. 

Overall, the date with Liz was very successful. So much so, our next date was a non-drag event when we went to the regional Renaissance Festival with her son and again had a great time, so we further solidified our relationship more and more. 

When I look back, I owe my contact to drag more than I give it credit for. At the least, going to drag shows even encouraged me to walk in heels with more confidence. Plus, all the credit for helping to start my public life with my daughter and future wife goes to drag and the confidence it gave me to know I was secure in my transgender womanhood and not in some never/never land which was my knowledge of a world I never really understood. Or felt a part of. I guess you could say, being a trans girl at a drag show still worked out for me. 

Transgender Adjustments

 

Image from Markus Winkler
on UnSplash.

No matter how you cut it, life is nothing if not a series of adjustments.

As we enter school and learn to adjust to the other kids around us, we discover the basic differences which go far past the genders. As far as boys go, we learn some are toxic, some are athletic, and others perceive themselves as leaders at an early age. I went to a very small rural school and basically went to class with the same students from kindergarten through the ninth grade. Plenty of time to form cliques such as who were the brains, the hell raisers, the athletes and yes, even the losers. 

The one clique which I never had the chance to join was the one with gender issues, or the boys who wanted to be with the girls. I was very sure I was the only one with such issues, so I needed to make whatever adjustments I needed to make on the down low. No other person could ever learn of the adjustments I truly wanted to make but could not. 

As I made it through my early school years, the complexity of my adjustments to gender increased. I remember going to a high school festival where I saw a male student in drag for the first time in my life and was fascinated. If he could do it, why couldn't I? It was around this time of my life also when I heard the rumors of one of my fellow students who had attended a Halloween party dressed as a girl and was prettier than his sister. All of it gave me a brief glimmer of hope for my future. Perhaps there were other males who wanted to be girls also. Sadly, it was just two instances of learning of an outside world of gender adjustments before "Virginia Prince" and her "Transvestia" Magazine came into my world.

"Transvestia" rocked my world with its articles and pictures of cross dressers or transvestites everywhere. Seemingly, the only acceptance requirement you needed to have been, was to be heterosexual which was no problem for me. Of more importance was the fact the side organization call "Tri-Ess" I believe, held monthly mixers in Ohio within driving distance of where I lived. All I needed to do was fill out an application and be approved to meet others with similar gender adjustments for the first time in my life. 

As I discovered, when I first began to attend the transvestite-cross dresser mixers, how much more adjusting I would need to do. I met so many others of differing backgrounds from basic admirers to ultra feminine transsexuals, my life was changed forever. Sadly, I had plenty of time between mixers to figure out how I was going to adjust to the new world I found myself in. The only realization I came up with was, there were very few at the mixer who were close to me in my desires and adjustments I wanted to make. Plus, I had a spouse to attempt to explain it all to. 

Sometimes, I am not as naive as I let on, and I knew all the action behind closed hotel room doors was not heterosexual in nature but beyond that, nothing I saw really surprised me. Like I said, I came away from the mixers knowing I had many more adjustments in my gender journey which in reality was only beginning. Little did I know, life would take me in so many different directions before I could settle into my transgender womanhood. I would have a daughter to raise, marriages to negotiate and jobs to take on in my life. 

In many ways, I am no different than the rest of the world except I have gender issues to contend with. I don't expect any special treatment but then again, I don't need to be discriminated against either. I was only doing what came natural to me by trying to survive in the only world I knew. 

All I Saw were Walls

Image from Cristina Hernandez 
on UnSplash.

 I saw walls everywhere as I needed to build my own gender closet to protect me.

When I discovered I needed walls to protect my gender secret from the world when I was quite young, I managed to build strong ones. Difficult for anyone to penetrate because I felt something was basically wrong with me and if I was discovered, I knew a psychiatric visit was in my future. Back in the late 1950's and early to mid 1960's, any form of cross dressing was still considered a mental illness, and I knew well enough I was not mentally ill from wanting to try on dresses and makeup. None of that served any positive purpose, and I was driven deeper into my closet of walls. 

Soon enough, I began to escape my walls and began to explore the world as a cross dresser, long before I made my second major transition into a transgender woman. In the beginning, and for years afterwards, I grew frustrated on my progress and began to take more and more chances when I left the house as a woman. It was almost as if I was trying my best to get caught. So, everyone could see in my closet of walls and discover what was really going on with me. One way or another, discovery could lead me to a release of the gender torment I suffered from, and I could go on to live the life I had always dreamed of.

What I discovered was, dreams and reality were two different things. Or could I ever hope to go out and mix in well enough with the world of everyday cisgender women and survive. I was quite naive for years and thought I could be accepted as my form of an everyday woman by simply looking the part. Which led me to many memorable experiences in the girl's sandbox. Many of which I barely survived because I had allowed the wrong woman access to my closet. I had wrongly thought some women would allow me behind the gender curtain without a struggle and I needed to escape the sandbox with new claw marks up and down my back. Over time, my wounds healed, and I became a seasoned veteran of survival in a world ruled by women. 

As I did, my walls became the path of transition to transgender womanhood I was taking. I needed to plan far past just a day at a time presenting as a woman the best I could. How was I going to approach the time which was rapidly approaching when all of my life would be consumed by living my dream, and how did I stop it from becoming a nightmare? To make matters worse, I kept running headfirst into walls set up by my old male self. He never wanted to let go of his world and I needed to be careful I did not slip back into it when I was not paying attention to the way I walked or communicated in the world as a transgender woman. I was capable of ruining my whole day by forgetting to smile at the world, doing my best to talk like a woman, or move like a linebacker in drag. It took me years for muscle memory took over from my feminine side and I began to climb the walls I needed to be successful in the new gender world I was in. 

The best part was, I was seeing fewer and fewer walls. I had passed most of the challenges I had set up for myself. When I did, I became much happier and knew if I tried to stop the train I was on, I would go back to the miserable life I was trying to live between two genders. There was no way I was going to do that because of all the time and effort I put into releasing myself from all the walls I had built.

Wishes were not Enough

 

Image from Delphina Iacub on UnSplash.

In yesterday's post, I wrote about the amount of time I spent wishing I was a girl as I went about attempting to live a male life.

As I pointed out yesterday, I finally arrived at a point where every spare second, I was becoming dedicated to my pursuit of becoming a girl. Which included watching the girls around me closely at school. I was desperately jealous of their fashion and lifestyle. 

As I became older, in order to survive in the world, I put less time wishing I was feminine and adding more time into actually doing it. Which meant of course I needed to unlock the door to my gender closet and try to enter the world as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. Back in those days, I took a lot of rejection, as I thought I looked like a clown in drag. Stubbornly, I persisted until I could find the right mixture of makeup skill, fashion and wigs. Once I did, my life across a new and exciting gender border became much more satisfying and fun. So much so, I was fooled into thinking my feminized wishes were coming true. 

It was about that time when I hit a gender wall as I found out what my wife was telling me all along, I had a long way to go on my path to transgender womanhood past just looking like a woman. I needed to quit wishing and find out what she was talking about. 

The more I explored the world as a trans woman, the more the world opened to me as gender curtains were pulled back. Of course, I knew cisgender women had their own world to exist in but I did not know how strong and in-depth that world was. For the longest time, my head was spinning as I tried my best to absorb the daily lessons I was learning. Primarily about communication and co-existence with other women on their playing field. Certainly, wishes were not enough when it came to surviving in a woman's world. I found I drew the curiosity of other women who wondered what I was doing in their world, and I had to be better than the average ciswoman just to get by. 

It was about this time; I decided to take a shortcut in my external femininized appearance and research doctors to see if I was healthy enough to begin gender affirming hormones (or HRT). I was, and the hormones almost immediately went about making changes such as softening my skin and producing breasts. All of which helped me to help my presentation skills. Especially, since I did not have any male pattern baldness and quickly was able to grow my own hair out and go wigless. 

I found by this time, wishes did not have to be enough, and I could move up my final transition timeline. Finally, my long-awaited dream could become a reality, and I could put my hated male clothes away forever. Perhaps the best part was, I never wished for him to return.

The Light in the Mirror

 

Image from Alessandro 
Bianchi 
on UnSplash.

I spend quite a bit of time here attacking my mirror when I was growing up.

Recently, I have come to the conclusion some of my negativity could have been wrong. First of all, I was fortunate to have a beautiful full length mirror dad installed at one of the ends of the hallway in our house when I was growing up. When no one else was home, I would spend as much time as I had admiring myself in the hallway mirror. As I did, I could always see a brief dim light in the mirror when I viewed my feminine self for the first time. Even when I knew, the light would have to be extinguished soon, and I would have to go back to my unwanted male world. 

As I grew up and began to explore the world for the first time as a beginning cross dresser, I made plenty of mistakes the mirror did not tell me about. In fact, the mirror light shone brightly and told me I looked great when in fact, I looked just the opposite. I was presenting as a clown in drag with no one to warn me. For a long time, the light in the mirror nearly went completely out as I was rejected in public time and time again resulting in a deep depression for me.

I kept trying though, and the light began to come back on. I lost weight and began to find styles of women's fashion which flattered my body shape and finally began to present better. Especially when I was making the mental transition to novice transgender womanhood from cross dresser. To do it, I needed every break I could muster. Plus, I needed to turn up my light in the mirror, and let my femininized light shine through, so I could see her better. 

The extra light turned out to be all I needed to become more skilled at my makeup art and do the best I could with my testosterone damaged male face. With a little help from a professional makeup person, my light in the mirror grew even brighter, and more importantly, I could trust it. With trust came confidence which equated to more acceptance as a transgender woman in the public's eye. All of a sudden, my lifelong dream to lead a feminine life was within reach. If my light in the mirror stayed on. 

It did and I was even able to turn up my light to a brighter level with the addition of HRT or gender affirming hormones. Among the many other positive changes I went through was when the overall texture of my skin softened. Which meant the male lines in my face softened and I could use less makeup. Specifically, foundation. I quickly learned with more femininized skin and being able to wear my own hair, I was suddenly more presentable to the world. 

Looking back, I may have been too quick to judge my light in the mirror. It just took a little longer (along with the rest of me) to become more situated with living a new life away from my old male self, and perhaps it was my fault for not switching to a brighter bulb sooner. Plus, I was fortunate in that my light in the mirror did not burn out altogether. 

 

Why Not Me?

 

JJ Hart at Club Diversity
Columbus, Ohio

When I was very young, I had the tendency to hide behind my skirts when I needed to deny any masculine pursuits at all. 

Any time I failed, I ran home to see if I could lock myself in the bathroom and apply makeup and try on any of mom's clothes which still fit. I had a dream of finally making it to my own transgender womanhood when I grew older, but I had no idea of how. Back then, little did I know, the journey would take me over fifty years to complete and the path would be so curvy and full of hurdles. If I did, I wonder if I would have ever attempted to try it.

Of course, I started out innocently enough as a cross dresser in a mirror. My reaction was a double-edged sword. One side of the sword told me I was not doing anything really wrong, while the other side wondered if I was the only one in the world doing it. If that was the case, being a transvestite just could not be good. Right? All I had to rely on was my instincts which told me I was on the right path. So, I persisted and stayed on it. Since the only real feedback I had was from the mirror, I needed to rely on it when it was telling me I had advanced on from the clownish drag makeup stage I was into a more acceptable feminine form. At the time, I equated it with painting model cars which I was never good at and I was so proud when I thought I had conquered the basics of makeup. Even to the point of purchasing my own from the newspaper route I had when I was a kid. When my friends were buying model cars, I was buying makeup and loving it. It was not until many years later, would I receive the instruction I needed to really understand the art of makeup, but I was getting by at the time.

Clothes and hair were a whole other problem I needed to try to conquer at the time. With the very limited budget I was on, there was no way I could afford a nice wig all the way to my college years, when I was working a better paying job. In order to buy a wig, I needed the help of my fiancé who bought it under the idea she would possibly wear it. The wig was long and blond and was my cross-dresser's dream and luckily, she hated it, so I inherited it. Even with the abuse I put it through, the wig lasted for years before I needed to finally retire it. Clothes were another problem because again I did not have much money, and these were the days before larger sized women's fashions became available in a younger style. It was not until years later, when thrift stores became abundant, did I finally become fashion independent. 

As my feminine life was coming together, slowly I began to realize transgender womanhood may not be such a reach for me after all. I was beginning to explore all facets of the world as a trans woman and it all felt so natural. The more I attempted and succeeded at in my new life, the less I wanted to go back to my old, boring male world. So, I did not.

I was on a slippery gender slope my path had led me to, and all of a sudden, I did not fear it anymore. Somehow, I knew there was a soft landing out there for me. The stop signs were gone, and I knew at the age of sixty, if I did not try to live my transgender dreams, I would never have the chance and would forever regret my decision. From there, I decided to follow my heart and seek medical help to begin gender affirming hormones or HRT. The hormones forever sealed my trans life, and I never looked back. I always felt my body was looking for the hormones the whole time. Again, a scary gender transitional moment felt so natural. 

Why not me, turned out to be why should not it be me? 

Gender Masks

 

Image from John Noonan
on UnSplash. 

In life, both genders learn early on what masks mean to their existence.

Think of it, at the earliest age, babies have only very limited ways to show their pleasure or anger by smiling or crying. Of course, as we advance through life all of it changes. I could be biased, but I think women in life have an advantage by using masks. 

While boys are squaring off on the playgrounds at school, girls are learning the basics of makeup, if their moms allow it. In many ways, makeup for women provides them with their ultimate masks. Anything from false eyelashes to skin foundations to wigs are permissible. It is not unheard of for a man to wake up to a totally different looking woman after a night out on the town. 

Makeup is not the only way women use masks effectively. I learned it the hard way several times when I was first out in the world as a transgender woman that a smiling face does not necessarily equal acceptance in the world. There were many times I relaxed too early in a situation with another smiling woman and ended up getting stabbed in the back. I fell for her friendly mask and paid the price. The whole process with women with me went back to feminine passive aggression versus the old direct aggression I was used to with men. Eventually, I came to consider the process as just another rite of passage into the world of women and I quickly became much better in being able to see what was going on behind another woman's mask. 

As my relationship with other women grew, the better I became at perfecting my own mask. I started at an early age attempting to perfect my art of makeup. It was all I could do to stop looking like a clown in drag. I stumbled along at my mask efforts before I made it into asking for and accepting professional makeup help. I happened into it during a cross dresser, transvestite mixer I was attending. Part of the mixer was given over to several professional makeup artists who offered free makeovers to anyone who wanted them. I gathered my courage, hitched up my big girl panties and stepped up for help. When the help I received was complete, I could not believe the change. The guy doing my mask had totally removed my old mask and designed a new one. The changes were so dramatic, I even received an invitation to go with the so called "A" list transgender women when they went out to bars after the mixer. To make matters even more dramatic, I was the only one approached by a man in a bar to stay for a drink. For many reasons, I did not stay and drink with him, (another story) but the point was made my mask could compete for a change with the "A" girls who the man ignored. 

The best part of finding my new mask was being able to keep it. The professional makeup guy managed to explain everything he was doing to my face and wig, so I understood it and could replicate it over and over. Once I had my mask, I was able to take advantage of it the same as any other woman would. In fact, more so, because I felt to succeed in the world as a transgender woman, I would need to be better than the average cisgender woman who had been born with a built-in mask advantage. 

Fortunately, I was able to step back and look at my new gender mask from a positive perspective and what it meant from view of a novice transgender woman. When I did, my life radically improved for the better and I understood how masks really worked in the world.

Why Not Me?

 

Image from Danielle
la Rosa Messina on
UnSplash

Going through life, I was very insecure concerning many things.

I always had a difficult time excelling at all in things such as sports because I was so insecure about winning. If I did not, which was common, I could run home and hide behind my makeup and pretty dresses and pretend I was a girl and all the pain of losing went away. Then, the more I cross dressed, the insecurities began to sneak in there also. Was I presenting well enough and how would I ever know if my only contact was between me and my mirror. I thought I looked presentable, but would the world agree and what if I looked like a clown in drag.

It took me years to even acquire the basic wardrobe and fashion I needed to even get myself a fair shake with my feminized presentation. All along, my lifetime dream was to be a woman, and I was so far away. I did try to make an excuse to cross dress and come out to a friend once, but it was a dismal failure when he was embarrassed and turned away. The whole experience sent me running back to my gender closet and slamming the door. I did not know what my next move would be.

Life went on for me and the desire to possibly living my feminine dream never went away. In fact, it became stronger and stronger. When I could, I made "investments" in better fashion, wigs and makeup which really helped me advance my overall presentation. As I did, I gave the public another try to see how I faired in the world out of my closet. I needed to put aside all my insecurities, gather up all my courage and give it a go. 

Initially, my path was a bumpy one, full of false stops and starts. I was flying blind with no handbook to help me, and it showed. During too many nights in failure, I had to run home in tears wondering if I was on the right path at all. Somehow, the faint voice of my inner feminine soul could be heard telling me not to give up as there were better times ahead. I listened, pulled up my big girl panties and managed to move forward as I discovered a better life as a novice transgender woman. 

I discovered the best way to combat my insecurities was with confidence. I resolved to never let the world see me sweat. First, it would ruin my makeup and second, if someone had a problem with me, it was their problem, not mine. I had put an incredible amount of time and effort into being the new transgender woman I was becoming, and I would be dammed if I was going to give it up easily to some bigoted transphobe. All the years of losing weight, learning makeup and skin care just could not go to waste as I chased my insecurities about living fulltime as a transgender woman. 

Still, I wondered, would I ever be good enough to join the world of women and would it be what I expected it to be. 

Unexpectedly, I received a giant push from women friends I found and cherished. With their help, I was able to put my insecurities behind me and become a part of a world I had only dreamed of. Why not me, became you can do it and I succeeded in my path into transgender womanhood. 

Happy Valentines Day

 

Happy Valentines Day Liz!!!

Admittedly, I have never been much of a romantic, as a former man or a woman. Over the years, I have started to change as I entered transgender womanhood. 

After my wife passed away, I was intensely lonely and began to look around for company. At first, I started by going on-line under various platforms. For example, one week I would list under woman seeking woman, then the next week, I would list under woman seeking man. In total, predictably, I received very few responses. None, I considered quality except one and her name was Liz who contacted me under woman seeking woman. She was from nearby Cincinnati.

In the meantime, I did make a couple other lesbian friends out of sheer will power by forcing myself into going out and being social. The first friend was introduced to me by her daughter at one of the sports bars I was a regular in. The daughter noticed I was always alone and thought it would be fun to do a little matchmaking.  The great part is, we still are friends to this day. 

Then one night when I was out to be alone, another woman came in to pick up a to go order and ended up sliding a note down the bar to me. We ended up meeting and she became part of a small group of women I partied with almost nightly. Plus, as I always say, these two women taught me so very much on what it would be like to live life as a woman, more than they will ever know. 

By now, you may be thinking, were there any men in my life? Yes, there were a few including all the ones who would stand me up on dating sites. I did have a couple memorable dates with guys which never went beyond the kissing stage. Even though I enjoyed being on the other side of the dating spectrum, I still much preferred the company of women. Especially when I was accepted for me. I was satisfied on where I was in my dating preferences and saw no need to change. Plus, when I went to lesbian mixers, I found I could further my preferences as a transgender lesbian.

Perhaps my biggest discovery was how many lesbians were not of the "gold star" variety which meant in their past they had some dealings with men. With me, they found a curious gender middle ground which the majority of insecure men were afraid to pursue. During this learning portion of my life, I ended up enjoying myself immensely.

What I have left out of all of this on purpose was my interaction with Liz. Through it all, we had continued to talk back and forth. Once I was brave enough for her to hear myself on the phone. We finally arrived at the point where her and a group of women friends from work were going to a drag show near Cincinnati. The drag show ended up being our first date nearly fourteen years ago. Obviously, everything went well and ten years later, we were married. 

On this Valentines Day, I credit Liz with being the only woman who ever told me she never saw any male in me at all. In many ways, she helped me back on my feet after some rough years of my life. Happy V-Day, Liz!

All Hands on Deck

 

Image from UnSplash

As I progressed farther along my long and difficult gender journey, there were many times where I wished I had company to aid my path.

Even though I often whine and cry concerning the lack of assistance novice cross dressers or transgender women have early on in their progression, the fact remains we need to work our way through it and do the best we can with our fashion and makeup. Until I began to see positive results, I am sure I looked like a clown in drag. Still, I was alone with my thoughts. I am old enough to remember with "Virginia Prince" and her Transvestia publication first came to my attention. It provided me with the first real look at others who shared the same interest in being femininized and looking like a girl. I was mesmerized with more than a few of the cross dressers I saw in the publication. I so badly wanted to be like them.

For years as I worked alone to look more realistic as a cross dresser, I still yearned for feminine help. I thought any cis woman could help me because of their years of practice and interaction with their peers. When I was engaged in college, the opportunity to be dressed from head to toe as a woman by another woman finally came my way. Somehow, I begged my fiancé to do it even though I don't remember now how I did it or was so persuasive. I went all the way by even renting a motel room for all the pre-prep work such as shaving my body I would have to do. 

Once I shaved and dressed, I was excited to undergo the long-awaited makeup process. Since she wore quite a lot of makeup, I was confident she could do a great job. It was finally time for all hands-on deck in my young cross-dressing life. Back in those days, mini skirts and dresses were in vogue so I brought one I found and purchased along with panty hose, heels, and a long blond wig and started the transformation process. To say I was excited would be an understatement. Time flew by as she finished my makeup, and I headed for the mirror. Instead of the beautiful blond I thought I was going to see, I was actually disappointed. I could not see much difference in her efforts from my own. Even still, I acted as if I was really impressed with her expertise when in fact, I was impressed with how much I had learned on my own over the years. 

It took me a long time working with makeup to learn each of us has a blank face to work with and we need to learn the best way to work with it. My fiancé was doing the best she could with the knowledge she learned from her own face, not mine. She was far from being a professional such as the help I finally received from a true makeup pro at a transvestite, transgender mixer I attended years later after I was discharged from the Army. He taught me lessons about my face I had never even considered such as which features to play down and which ones to build up. To this day, I owe him a huge vote of confidence and thanks.

It turned out the opposite happened with my fiancé. Due to knowing my deepest, darkest secret about being a cross dresser, she said I should use it to dodge the draft and stay out of the Vietnam war. There was no way I was going to do that, so we split up shortly before I was to leave for basic training. Actually, it was the best thing which has ever happened to me in my life. The pain it caused immediately would have been nothing like the suffering we would have gone through if we had stayed together.  

Looking back, at my life's work as a transgender woman, for the most part, it has been a solitary experience. Not having a female peer group to interact with and learn from was a problem to be sure but one I learned to work around. The end result was, I needed to be better than the next woman to make it. 

Expedition Transgender

 

Image courtesy JJ Hart

The half century journey I embarked on to finally come up as my true authentic self was certainly an expedition. 

As I always mention, my discovery began with going through my mom's underwear drawer and trying on nylons, bras and girdles I could still fit into before testosterone poisoning really set in. From there, I progressed into makeup and very slowly began to increase my craft. I did not really want to look like a clown in drag so I did the best I could. 

Life went by and so did my expedition. Sadly, for several reasons, I developed several coping mechanisms to mask my gender truth. I tried and tried to convince myself my desire to wear women's clothes and look feminine was just a harmless hobby and perhaps was just a phase in life I was going through. It took me years to realize the true phase I was going through was that I was a male at all. With sheer willpower, I managed to learn to play the male game fairly successfully and lived a life which shielded my feminine self from most all intrusions. I went into my dark lonely gender closet and slammed the door.

It took me years to have the courage to open my closet door and tentatively look around. When I did, my expedition took sudden and encouraging turns. The more I tested the public as a transgender woman, the more successful I was. I set out to sample as much as I could of a woman's lifestyle and discover my feelings on what would happen next. I tried going to gay and lesbian bars as well as big sports bars and found I could carve out a spot as a regular in a so-called straight venue. I also tried to go to various other places such as bookstores and other retail venues single women would go. In other words, I was obsessed with coming as close as I could on my expedition to seeing what a cis woman went through in her life. By doing so, I could make the final decision on where I wanted to go with my life, as a man or as a woman. 

As my expedition transgender progressed, I found myself in a face-to-face decision on beginning to take gender affirming hormones or not. Since my only real opposition to beginning the hormones had passed away, my ultimate path was clear, and I sought out a doctor for approval. He checked me out and determined I was healthy enough to begin HRT with minimum dosages of Estradiol and a testosterone blocker and my life changed forever. All the changes which occurred would fill another blog post themselves. Perhaps the biggest overall surprise was how quickly my body took to the new hormones. So fast, I needed to rethink how quickly I was going to have to change the timetable of when I ultimately wanted to finish my expedition and enter my own transgender womanhood.

I learned the fact of the matter was, I was always living a gender lie. I had refused to accept the fact I was always deeply feminine and was forced into a male lifestyle from some cruel twist of fate. All the time I thought I was a man attempting to be a woman was wrong. I was a woman attempting to be a man.

I wish I could have a portion of my life back to re-center my expedition and start all over again.  

 

Answering the Call

 

Image from Alexey Elfimov on UnSplash.

On occasion I am sorry to say it took me over a half a century to answer my gender call. But thankfully, I finally did take the call and listen to the urgent message. 

Please keep in mind I don't count all the years I attempted to cross dress my gender issues away. As I often write about, all cross dressing did was provide me with a quick fix. After I dressed as a girl, I felt better for a while before the same old tensions of life with gender dysphoria set in. The problem was, deep down I knew I wanted to do so much more than look feminine, I wanted to be feminine. 

One of the few good things which came from my gender struggles was practice made perfect. Even though I knew I was the only one who could see my progress with makeup and clothes, I stuck with trying to improve every time I cross dressed. It was so difficult for me since I only had the mirror to answer to when checking out my progress. The problem was the mirror was so good in telling me everything, but the truth and I tried to keep in mind I might look good, for a boy in drag. Not as an actual girl. In other words, I learned I needed to hold myself to a higher level than other cis women I observed if I was to survive among them. 

The entire process was so difficult for me since I had never been detailed orientated in my life. Just getting by was not going to be the way to go. I was fortunate when I encountered professionals in the makeup world who helped me along. One in particular came following a transvestite-transgender party mixer I attended near Cleveland, Ohio years ago. After the mixer slowed down, the organizers provided several makeup professionals to provide free tips to whoever had the nerve to ask. On that evening, I am happy I put my ego behind me and answered the call for much needed makeup assistance. The catch was I needed to remove all my makeup and wig and let the professional start over. His work and results were amazing, and I even understood all the tips he was trying to tell me. The end result was I was flooded with compliments and my gender euphoria soared to an all-time high. Furthermore, later on that evening, I was even hit on by a guy in a straight venue I went to with other transwomen from the mixer. 

That night, I did not answer the call to stay with the guy who showed interest in me. My reason was, I was in a strange town with a person I did not know, and I did not know if he realized I was transgender. Not a good place to be at two in the morning. On the other hand, I loved it when the other "A-listers" from the mixer were jealous of me for once.

Along the way, I ended up answering enough calls to barely keep myself going. There were plenty of times when I did not know if my mental health could take it, and I could keep going. It was then when I took the all-important call to begin gender affirming hormones and change my life forever. I was sixty by then and knew there would be no turning back. After I did, I learned taking the most important call of my life turned out to be a life survivor for me. I remember the evening when I decided to answer my phone for the last time. All of the sudden the voice told me I was free to live as my authentic self and the relief I felt was tremendous. All my previous misgivings were swept away. 

Trans Girl Preparedness

Image from Ben White
on UnSplash. 

Since it took me approximately fifty years to fully emerge as a transgender woman, I had plenty of time to prepare.

The challenge comes when we trans women or men need to begin from scratch. We did not benefit from a gender peer group such as other girls to have sleep over parties and experiment with makeup and clothes. No one to tell me I looked like a clown in drag. I learned I needed to resort to the mirror for help but sadly ran into problems when the mirror had the habit of lying to me. I could still look like a clown and the mirror would not tell me the truth.

What I did was go out to into the public's eye and receive an honest feedback on my appearance. In the beginning, the experience was brutal as I was met with stares and even laughter. Many times, I could not wait to go home to the safety of my own room to start over again. I kept thinking, regardless of all the negative feedback I was getting I could do better. For the first time in my life, I needed to decide what I wanted worse, to hide in my closet and not advance toward my dream of ever living a feminine life, or advance and begin the learn the basics of makeup art and fashion which at the least fit me. I found the entire process to be exceedingly difficult for me. 

Spoiler alert. I did learn the hard way what I needed to do to blend in with the rest of the women around me. It was a powerful lesson to learn when I found out how women ruled in their own worlds and how I could join in.  In the meantime, I was learning how to erase my male past and start over. To make matters worse, my male self naturally fought against the gender change to transgender womanhood he was facing. 

Through it all, I was naïve to think I was progressing towards my gender dreams. I thought that just doing my best to look like a woman was all I had to do. When I entered the wild and wonderful world of women, I was excited yet terrified of my future. After all, I was risking all of my male life as I had known it. What would become of my family, friends and income? To arrive at the point of knowing all my gender questions, I just had to be better prepared.

At that point, I started to go out into the world with a purpose to learn if I could make it as a transgender woman at all. Primary issues remained such as communication problems. Plus, I went the distance to try to stair step my way into an increasingly active public community. I purposely tried out more and more challenging situations. Away from the no challenge opportunities I was facing in clothing stores and malls. I even tried to avoid the book stores and antique malls I had become fond of but never presented any sort of a gender challenge to me. I needed to feel OK with who I was, where I was before I was able to move on. 

At the same time, my male life was successful and was pushing me to stay the same and not transition into a women's world even farther. All the struggle did was wreck my mental health. What I did not recognize yet was my feminine self was my dominate personality and needed to be freed. The harder she fought, the harder he fought. Finally, he gave up and I found a deep seated relief I had never known before.

Primarily, after all the time and effort I put into changing my exterior gender to what my inner self was always telling me, was the reason I felt better about my life. Sure, the gender affirming hormones I began to take made the transition easier also but bottom line, I was just prepared to do what came naturally and live it.  

It is Fall and Time for Halloween

 

I have heard Halloween is the national holiday for cross dressers everywhere.

I know it was for me as I could not wait for the trees to change colors and the temperatures to dip so I could plan my "costume" for the season. I was fortunate when I began to learn so many feminine basics thanks to my Halloween experiences. Such as, the first night I went out with friends to a late night showing of a silent movie in a beautiful restored theater in Columbus, Ohio. The primary lesson I learned was to either get a close parking spot or wear comfortable footwear as my heels began to bother me very shortly into the evening. Regardless, I had a great time in my short mini dress and I was disappointed when I did not see anyone else cross dressed (that I know of) and the night went by so quickly. My friends we went with did not even mention my shaved legs. I remember thinking it was going to be a very long year before I again could challenge the world as my feminine self.

Back then, my self was very under developed. The mirror still had a hold of me and I really had very little knowledge of where I truly wanted to go as I researched the gender world. Would the mirror be my home or could I succeed as a novice transgender woman. In it's own very important way, Halloween helped to point me in the right direction. The first parties I went to, I simply tried to dress sexy as my "costume" and took the easy way out. I was seeking validation as a woman  essentially by doing a form of drag, which never worked for me. For the most part, I was left alone by other men and women. It took me several parties to understand what I was doing wrong. 

From there on out, I started to attempt to tone down my "costume." For example, one year early on in my transition I wore all black. Starting with black flats, black tights and sweater. I paired it all with my short black skirt, long blond wig and topped it off with a black beret hat. I tried it all out at one of the big dance clubs Halloween party in town and was enjoying myself immensely until a person in a mask came up to me and said I know who you are. Initially I was a mixture of being scared and devastated some one could see through my "costume" so easily I did manage to laugh and say who was I and the person said I looked just like my Mom. Then I realized who he was and he went on his way. It turned out I grew up near him in the rural neighborhood where I lived. Even with all of that I had a great time and was saddened that Halloween only came around once a year.

It turned out there were many other lessons to learn from the cross dressers national holiday as I was going to find out. One of the biggest ones was when I realized how rare it was to find another possible "non civilian cross dresser" in their own "costume." Again, I was feeling alone in the world. Another one was there was no way I could wait another year to venture out into the world as my authentic femininized self. At the same time of my Halloween adventures, the internet became a part of my life and I was able to research terms such as transgender to see if they fit me. I found there was so much more to learn. 

There were more Halloween parties where I continued to learn from too. I haven't forgotten my pledge to share them also since for the most part, they had such a profound effect on my life as a novice transgender woman. 

Becoming Me

Image from the 
JJ Hart
Archives. 

As I bridged the gender gaps in my life to survive, I did what I perceived to be cross dressing as a woman in my family's mirror. 

Slowly I began to learn the makeup and fashion tricks the girls around me used to look their best. At times it seemed I was attempting the impossible as puberty set in and my body began to go through many unwanted male changes. Like it or not, I was stuck with testosterone poisoning and I would somehow have to get use to living with it. I was becoming a me which was very much unwanted. 

As I got by in life, I learned to camouflage my broad shoulders, and torso (among other negatives) and try to emphasize my positives, even if I needed to do it with feminine style padding in all the right areas. Since I was told I had good legs at the Halloween parties I went to, naturally I tried to emphasize my legs when I dressed. 

Sadly it took me many years to learn the truth about myself. Yes, it was true I was a cross dresser but not the way I always thought I was. In no way was I a male cross dressing as a female, all along I was a woman cross dressing as a man. Once I arrived at that point in my life, suddenly everything began to be so much clearer. I just wish I could have come to the realization so much earlier than I did. I always use the excuse to myself the world itself held me back in the pre-internet years before very little was being published or researched about gender issues. In fact, I still remember in my youth the news stories about the police rounding up and arresting men dressed as women. How could that be? 

Still I persisted and remember vividly the night I dressed up in a mini skirt, panty hose, heels wig and makeup and headed to a nearby gay bar when my wife was away. I was so scared and once I got there and was admitted through a locked door, I only had one drink and left before I even relaxed and I never had the opportunity to go back before the owner died and it closed. Even still, my adventure that night helped me to become the transgender person I wanted to be. At that point, the problem still was, I did not totally know who I was, or face up to her yet. But I was diligently working on the problem by researching my feminine life. 

To do the research, I needed to risk everything and leave the safe surroundings of the mirror and enter the world. I started with going to more gay venues and becoming quickly disillusioned when they all thought of me as a drag queen. Lesbian bars were better but I did not find true acceptance until I became brave enough to go to straight places. There I could watch my sports, drink my beer and become accepted as a regular fairly quickly by the staff. I minded my own business, tried to be friendly and tipped well and was in. Even though I knew they knew I was transgender. it did not matter and along the way I think it even helped me. One way or another, I was taking giant steps towards being me and I knew there was no way I could ever go back.

Perhaps the biggest step I ever took on the gender path to being me was when I started on gender affirming hormones. After being approved by a doctor, the changes occurred quickly.. In addition to the external changes such as breasts, hair and skin, I experienced internal changes also. My emotions changed as well as my whole life just softened. The entire time of gender adjustment was one of the most magical times of my life. 

Overall, the discovery of who I really was as a transgender woman was a terrifying yet exciting journey. One I don't regret taking, once I faced up to her, I was so much happier.