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| Image from Nathan Dumlao on UnSplash. |
It took me years to realize that I had a tenant living rent free in my head all along.
I should have known from day one when I was going through my
mom’s clothing that she was here to stay. In fact, she increasingly demanded
more and more space in my head to justify her life as a cross-dresser or
transvestite as we were called back then. I would need to wait several years
for the transgender term to even become popular in our gender diverse society.
Also very early, I realized that the small closet I gave her
to exist in just was not going to be enough. When she succeeded in expressing
herself in the world in the smallest of occasions, she wanted to increase her
space in my head. Prime examples were the days in school during study halls
when I should have been actually studying. But I wasn’t as if I was having too
much fun envying the girls around me who I desperately wanted to be like the
next time I had the rare chance to be by myself and cross-dressed as a pretty
girl in the mirror. And I realized I did not want them sexually as much as I
wanted to be them physically and mentally.
It was during that portion of my life that I completely did
not have any idea of how much rent-free space my evolving trans woman needed
for her share of my head. Now I want back all the time my male self-spent
fighting her for my life as I lived it. The gender ripping and tearing was
certainly no fun, as both genders in my head fought for their right to survive.
For awhile I tried the old male fallback of just try to ignore my number one problem
in my life and she would somehow just disappear. When, in fact, the opposite
was happening. The thrill of putting on a dress, hose and makeup would go away,
and in its place, I would have a deep-seated feeling of just doing what was
coming to be just natural for me. It was increasingly evident that I would need
more space for my rent-free tenant to operate in as she went out to explore the
world as a novice transfeminine person.
Following more than a few rough patches when she was going
out in the world, my woman began to understand the sacrifice of her male ways
it would take to survive. She became more serious and began to work on the
basics such as presenting herself convincingly in the world. I went on a crash
diet and succeeded in taking off enough weight so I could go down a size or two
in the world of women’s fashion and I could find and wear stylish clothes for a
change. Along with that major move, I began to take extra better care of my
skin. Using a good moisturizer following every shave. Which paid off by not
having to use so much foundation makeup and I could look so much more natural
as if I was not trying so hard to look like an attractive woman. The trips I
started to make to the department store makeup counters for guidance certainly
did not hurt my progress either.
I was learning the hard way that I could not cut any corners
if I was to be successful in my quest to present successfully in a world of
curious ciswomen. I needed to give my rent-free tenant the opportunity to
expand her space in my head and the finances to do it. I would be spotted a
mile away as a man trying to be a woman if I used cheap makeup and did not do
my best to shop for (and try on) clothes that fit me and even flatter my testosterone
poisoned figure that I could do very little about. I did learn from my observations
of the ciswomen around me that there were women of every shape and size that I
could copy from and be successful. Which gave me the positive energy to carry
on and pass as a trans woman friend of mine said, “Out of sheer will power.”
Even though the progress of my rent-free tenant was not moving
along as fast as she wanted, there were still major obstacles in my way to deal
with. Such as what would happen to my twenty-five-year marriage, my
relationship with my daughter and the problem of finding a new job as a trans
woman in the world. To be sure, all were major obstacles to deal with, so my
tenant would have to be patient as she was beginning to understand she was the
only tenant left in my head with any power. My male self was just going through
the motions of life to keep a job and the outwardly show of male privilege in
my life.
Finally, it was time to go on gender affirming hormones and
allow my tenants to switch places. My previous rent-free tenant had earned her right
to live as the dominant person in my life and my male self was left to pick up
the pieces. I should say baggage more than pieces, because that is what he left
me to consider in my new feminine life as a fulltime transgender woman. It was
difficult to do, but I was able to keep several of my main male building blocks
of my life such as my will to succeed and a deep-seated desire to bring my
hobbies with me such as my love of sports. Which I learned was alright when I
made ciswomen friends with the same passion for sports that I had built up over
the years of my life.
While I certainly would not recommend a life like mine to
anyone. Letting someone live rent free in your head for all those years was
never easy. Perhaps, the only positive was, having all that time to learn the
world as a trans woman gave me a stable basis to work from. That is my excuse,
and I am sticking to it.
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