So Many Ways to Come Out

 

Image from Nicola Dowie
on UnSplash.

Recently, I had a response from a young transgender man on how he should attempt to come out to the world.

First of all, thanks for the comment and yes there are many ways to leave your closet and enter the world of the gender you are trying to live among. I know too that I have many trans men who stop by and read my comments which flatters me because as we flip the gender script, often the worlds we must conquer are not that different. Gaining the female or male privileges when you feminize or masculinize yourself often are the biggest issues. After you come out to spouses and family.

Over the years, I have read about coming outs that have ranged from just showing up cross-dressed as your authentic self, all the way to writing letters trying to explain the way you feel. As far as I am concerned, just all of a sudden showing up as a woman (or a man) has too much of a shock value and is counterproductive when you are trying to explain how you want to live to the person sitting across from you. Writing a letter may be more preferable if you feel more comfortable expressing yourself with written words rather than speaking one on one with someone. In my case, even though I did not feel comfortable talking to family about my upcoming changes, I hitched up my new big girl panties (under my male clothes) and asked to speak privately with those family members closest to me.  My first attempt at coming out was with my only child, a daughter and as I always write about, she took it extremely well. Just to show me life could never be that easy, my coming out to my only brother went off the rails quickly and we have not spoken since about 2014.

Having said that, I do caution trans women and trans men who are just coming out to family and loved ones that you are in a marathon not a race and sooner more than later, your family might come around. Plus, there is an increasing amount of information available now to explain your desire to live as yourself. If you have the chance, you maybe able to direct them towards the positive aspect of what you are doing and away from all the negative news they may see from politicians on the media ads. In my case, the split between my brother and I ran so deep when he refused to stand up for me and invite me to our family’s traditional Thanksgiving Dinner, I just can’t forgive him for that.

On the positive side, the relatively few people who knew the former me notice almost immediately that I am happier now. And if you give someone the chance to calm down and see the real you, they will respect that and the real you.

Of course, as we flip back to the negative side, there are always those family members that will try to throw religion in your face. Unless you are more of a biblical scholar than I am, I usually just give up on them.

Overall, I find the different sides of transitioning between transgender women and transgender men to be interesting. Since I was raised around the male dominated world of trying to force my way through difficult situations, I never gave much thought to trans men having to adjust to not being passive aggressive so much. Then there is always the idea of using the restroom which hangs over both of us. Even though trans men are in a new world in a men’s room where no one wants to make eye contact or speak, there is always the idea of having to still find a stall to use. Which conceivably could attract unwanted attention depending upon how well you present and how long you have been on testosterone. I know I have oversimplified the men’s room process and if you are a trans man, I am always up for ideas on restroom survival.

Flipping the script again, using the women’s room as a trans woman is something I know quite a bit about. The first thing I quickly learned was I needed to make contact and speak when someone else was in “the room.” From there, much of what I learned was either common sense such as never placing my purse on the floor and making sure my stall still had toilet paper all the way to trying to pee in the bowl a certain way to mimic the ciswoman in the stall next to me. Then, no matter how much I was in a hurry to leave, I had to always stop at a sink, check my face and always wash my hands.

Anyway, you cut it, when you have desire to cross the gender border either way from male to female or female to male, you must learn so many nuances of the moves you are making. Even though there are strict rules you need to follow, often times you will find yourself making up your own rules as you go along. It is just the nature of the ultra-serious game we play. What has worked for me in the past may not work for you and often I hear from readers who have supporters and non-supporters in the same family. The only advice I can offer is to embrace your new gender allies and hope your detractors come around.

The end result always must be it is your life to live and you need to live it to be happy. Sometimes your path will lead you the wrong way, just like your GPS does on occasion but it is not time to panic until you can get readjusted. Be patient, and it will happen.

As always, thank you for the comments I receive, often they are difficult to answer seeing as how we dealt with such a complex issue such as gender. I just hope, in my small way I can help.

 

 

So Many Choices...So Little Time

 

Image from Drew Colins
on UnSplash.

One thing that I learned from experiencing decades of cross-dressing is that there were so many choices and so little time.

It all started when I had to scramble for any time, I could find by myself dressing as an imagined pretty girl in front of the mirror without discovery from my brother or worse yet my parents.  I was born as the eldest son into a very male dominated family, and I was expected to fit right in with that male mold. I had little idea at the time that I was destined to break that male mold during my life and it was not going to be easy.

Back in those days, I had very little income that I scraped together from doing household chores and a newspaper delivery route I had for several years. The first feminine items I could afford to buy on my own were makeup accessories but first I needed to figure out a way to get to a store undetected and then decide what to buy. After putting a lot of thought into my situation, I remembered that my grandma lived in town, fairly close to one of the old five and dime department stores that sold makeup. I used the excuse to visit grandma, then go and shop. Or try to.

The only problem with my plan was that my dad worked downtown close to the store I wanted to try to buy my first makeup in. I was tired of using my mom’s samples, That was all well and good until I gathered my courage and walked into the makeup selection of the store I was in. As I viewed the extensive selection of cosmetics, I almost panicked and walked quickly from the store. There were so many choices and so little time to choose anything that might help me during my novice beauty program. Somehow, I stood my ground and picked out some foundation and lipstick which fit in with my limited budget, gathered my courage and headed for the checkout counter. Just knowing I would get made fun of along the way. Amazingly, the person at the cash register did not give me a second look as she took my money and I was no longer a virgin in buying my own feminine supplies. I just wished I had more access and money to do more.

I would have more financial resources later in life along with the knowledge to go with it as I learned the fun of doing thrift shopping for just the right choice of clothes to add to my wardrobe.  Plus, the thrift experiences gave me a chance to be patient in many of the bigger stores with seemingly an endless supply of discarded fashion. When I took the time to try on a new item I had never tried to wear before, I had two benefits. I didn’t have to pay much for the item and two, I could see how well it either flattered my difficult to please male testosterone poisoned body or didn’t. It helped too, when I was able to streamline the shopping experience and give myself time to vary my day as a novice transfeminine person. Instead of just facing an endless amount of clothes. I actually had time to do other things like take myself out to lunch. Then, again I was faced with an almost never-ending choice of where I could eat. Since I had already tried too many fast food drive throughs with various amounts of success, I decided to step up my game and try to eat at one of the casual dining restaurants I had went to and even managed as a man. Since I was still on a gender time clock and had to be home by a certain time dictated by when my second wife would be off of work, I was still facing so many choices with so little time to enjoy myself as a transgender woman.

My plan was to just get by and improve myself a little at a time in a world of ciswomen I was just discovering. By doing so, I discovered that most ciswomen ignored me if I was dressing to blend in with them or were just curious of why I was in their world. Of course, I did run into the occasional TERF woman who hated me and wanted me out of her world, which I did. One way or another, I was encountering far more women in my quest to be part of their world than I ever did any men because I just wanted to be out of my long-standing membership in the men’s club and they knew it. The only thing I did know was that I was increasingly not so lonely when I went out in the world to my regular straight venues. All my lesbian places had closed up and the gay venues I used to go to just brought back bad memories of me being looked at as just a drag queen so I was stuck…just where I wanted to be and I was satisfied, until I went too far and tried too hard to be accepted.

In my search for acceptance, I began to become too overconfident in my ability to succeed a began to look for more choices of where to go in such a short ill-conceived amount of time. What I did was start going to redneck themed places thinking I could be accepted when I was not and even had the cops called me one night in a venue, I was just trying to drink a couple beers then pee before I went to another place I had been to a lot. It turned out that they would sell me the beer, just not let me get rid of it.

As it turned out, I was/am able to live a long life and see many of my choices gang up on me in a very short period of time. Destiny worked its magic and gave me a full circle of life to live with. Throwing in that I was a transgender woman just added a little spice.

 

The Power of Allies

 

Image from Peyton Sickles
on UnSplash. 

I don’t know if I could have ever made it to my dream of living as a full-time transgender woman, without the help of strong allies.

There were many times when I had hit a stopping point on my gender path and was clueless on which way to go. Mainly because I was attempting to find myself as a woman so I could continue to live after a failed suicide attempt.

I have several examples. The first of which came when I first started to go out and secretly wanted to find a social life as a trans woman because I was so lonely after my wife of twenty-five years unexpectedly passed away from a massive heart attack at the age of fifty. In the past I had considered myself a social person, and it hurt deeply to be lonely. At first, I went online and tried the usual methods of establishing a contact or two to date but I ran into the usual problems of inviting all sorts of trash into my life, which included many no shows when I had arranged to meet someone in public. Which was the only way I would do it for personal safety reasons.

In the meantime, I was fortunate to escape the gay venues I was going to (where they thought I was just another drag queen) and establish myself in a couple of the big sports bars I used to go to when I was a man. Places where I could drink pints of beer and watch sports on big screen televisions. Ironically, being alone in one of these venues led me directly to my first two powerful allies.

The first happened to be the mother of one of the bartenders who set up a casual date between us one night where she worked. It turned out we got along really well, shared the same interests and set up future dates, so my end to the extreme loneliness I was feeling was looking like it might me coming to an end. I was further encouraged not long after that when one night a woman came in to pick up her to go food order and suddenly slid her phone number down the bar to me, to my amazement. Not long after that, I kept the number and had the courage to call it.

From that point forward, the three of us made an inseparable trio as we watched sports and drank beer in the venues we met in. Plus, as it turned out, the two women turned out to be lesbians which put a unique perspective to my life as I was regularly attending lesbian mixers and learning any thing I could about the culture which was so new to me. As we socialized together, I was learning as much as I could about being a woman. The first major lesson I learned was that I did not need validation from a man to be a woman which was a relief because of two reasons. The first being that I had very little interactions with men at all primarily I think because I was not attractive enough. The second of which was I really did not want to deal with all the drama I knew men can bring from all the time I spent as a man. I knew how to deal with ciswomen all my life and felt more comfortable with the drama women bring. I always had more women friends than close male friends.

The two most profound allies were yet to enter my life at that point.

As part of my online searches, I did have one response from a Wiccan/lesbian woman in nearby Cincinnati, Ohio. She told me I had sad eyes from my online picture, and we slowly began to correspond by text messages before I felt comfortable enough to talk to her in person. Finally, I got over my shyness and after talking to each other I decided to ask her out on a date. She accepted, and we decided to meet halfway between our homes with friends and go to a drag show at a well-known gay bar. We ended up having a great time and decided to set up another date. This time with my other friends at a women’s roller derby event. I was in gender heaven to be able to go with three other women to one place and enjoy myself for once. My help from allies was coming through for me.

At the same time, I needed to come out to what was left of my blood family. My parents and most of the rest of the family had passed away, leaving only my daughter (only child) and my only brother to come out too. I thought at the time I would have problems with my brother and hopefully not my daughter and I was right. My daughter’s only real reaction was why she was the last to know and my brother totally rejected me by not inviting me to the annual Thanksgiving Day dinner. He sold me out to his rightwing religious in-laws, and I have not spoken to him since which has been over a decade now. I was fortunate when my allies (daughter) and Liz stepped up to help me in my time of need. Not only was I invited to one Thanksgiving family dinner, but I was also invited to two. Even though I was happy to have someplace to go for the holidays, it was quite stressful for me to meet people at my daughter’s in-laws who had known me for years as a man but also meet Liz’s dad and brother for the first time.

The best part of having all of these strong allies on my side was they expected me to be myself. In fact, I was still on the fence of living as both binary genders as I met Liz. It was not too far into our long relationship that she told me the final words to kickstart my final plunge to a feminine life. One day Liz told me what I was waiting for, she had seen both sides of me and had only seen the female side, nothing of the old unwanted masculine me. That was it, I agreed and went about giving away what was left of my male wardrobe and never looked back as I started HRT or gender affirming hormones to further femininize my exterior self.

Along the way, I tried to explain to all my ciswomen allies how much they had done for me, but they would not take any credit. They never understood how much they did to help me become the happy transgender woman I am today. And, by the way, Liz and I finally got married after eight years and now have been together for over a decade.

 

 

Merging your Past with your Future

 

Image from Sammy Swae 
on UnSplash. 

We speak a lot around here about merging your life’s past circumstances with the future of what you may be facing.

Depending upon the number of years you have spent living as your birth gender, you may have an incredible amount of baggage to bring with you from your past. Including the input of spouses, family, friends and jobs. What to bring with you to merge with your new lifestyle as a transgender woman or trans man is often an agonizing decision. One thing is for certain you can’t bring all of your past life with you. However, no matter how you may want to cut it, the basic building blocks of your life remain. Such as how your parents raised you. My parents raised me to be a contradiction from the beginning. I was expected to stand up for what I believed to be right, as long as it did not interfere with what they thought was right. So being a childhood cross dresser was being an individual in my mind but an embarrassment in theirs. So, I had no chance of winning my gender battles.

On the other hand, I was taught the difference between right and wrong but not enough that I could bring it with me when I needed to face the biggest battle of my life, what was I going to do about my unwanted male life. Deep down inside, I knew the right answer then just refused to face it.

For the longest time, I was guilty of putting ciswomen and girls up on some sort of a pedestal as I viewed their lives from the outside looking in. Basically, all I saw was they had the chance to wear the pretty clothes and be pursued by the men or boys in school. I so wanted to be the cheerleader on the sidelines rather than the defensive end I was on the football team. Without seeing all the work, it took to being a good cheerleader. In fact, I never saw any or all of the work needed to transition from being a female to being a woman which I found to be a huge difference. Females are born; women are socialized in the world which means not all women ever make it. If and when you are attacked by a TERF about how you were born, rest assured she has problems if all she could come up with was a so-called birthright.

Getting back to how you merge your past with your future, the first thing you have to remember is not to forget about your present. Your present is so important as you live a daily life, often between two powerful genders, male and female. Your present is often the time when you are working hard to see how your gender dreams will impact your life in the future and how much has it done for your past. In my case, all I had really learned about being in the world as a transgender woman was to apply makeup well enough, so I did not look like a clown in drag, and I learned to shop in thrift stores to find the right fashion to flatter my testosterone poisoned body. I knew nothing about putting my new improved feminine image into motion in the world.

Once I did get serious about looking around in my present-day world back then, I wondered how I was going to ever merge my past with my future. After I determined how badly I wanted to.

My main concern was how one sided my interests were. I was mainly a sports addict with the usual male preoccupation with my job. Most certainly, I would be sacrificing my job if I male to female transitioned but what about my sports hobbies? It was then I became very serious about looking around to notice who all was watching sports at the big venues I was in and I was pleasantly surprised that all those years, I had been missing the number of women who were involved. It turned out that unless I was trying to talk sports with a man, my baggage was safe with other ciswomen, and I was not out of place in my favorite team jersey. To make matters even better, when my wife Liz and I got together and began going to “Meetup” groups, I was able to go to writers’ circles to interact with a whole new set of people. I highly recommend groups such as that to expand your social horizons as a transgender woman or trans man.  The only negative experience I ever had was with a lesbian social group who refused to accept me because I was trans. Which was their loss, not mine.

Then I began to look at my future as just downsizing my life. I was leaving friends behind who did not accept me all the way to going from two wardrobes to one. As Liz once told me, it’s not often a human gets to stop a life and rebuild it, so don’t mess it up. With me, I was fortunate to have help in merging my past with my future. When I was with my new circle of women friends, I just had to learn what to needed to omit from my past which would inadvertently out me as a past male. I was able to talk about my family because I had a daughter, which was a good example, I just could not share birth stories. But in reality, I was in the room, just not doing any of the work.

Any way you cut it, when you do make the decision to cross the gender border, you will naturally have to leave part of your past behind. Just be careful, you do not leave any of the basic building blocks behind which make you the person you are. From there you can build a new and better you as your authentic self maybe you never thought you could be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why Not Me?

 

Image from Buddha Elemental 3D
on UnSplash. 

My life has been a series of why not me moments.

As a boy growing up in Ohio, I always wanted to be a better athlete, which turned out to be an impossible quest because there always seemed to be a better athlete in my world to take my place. Then there was my attempt to be more social in the world, but I was incredibly shy, and it was so difficult to do. So, I ended up hiding at home, thinking someday I would grow out of my shyness.

My greatest why not me moments came as I struggled with my gender identity. It became so bad with me that when a stranger asked me what I was going to be when I grew up, the only truthful answer I never gave was a woman. I internalized my thoughts and somehow hoped they would go away. Which of course, they never did. They just got worse because the main problem I had was wondering if I could do it at all. Information was incredibly difficult to come by in my sheltered male privileged world and for the most part I was lost, and I continued the path I was on. Doing my best to live a male life successfully, and at the same time, steal away moments of privacy to cross dress in front of the mirror.

Often, much to my surprise, I was semi-successful at both. I kept my increasingly gender fluid life in balance by improving my mirror image away from drag clown to beginning girl, while at the same time, keeping the bullies away from me by having an interest in sports and cars. I even went as far as dating a few girls in high school where I ended up attending both my junior and senior proms. Little did anyone know I wanted to be the one wearing the pretty gown and getting the flowers. As with the rest of my life, I got over it and moved on, no matter how difficult it was. Why not me was not working, I was still stuck in my gender quicksand and there was no handsome cowboy coming to help me out. Or strong woman as it turned out.

When I finally had had enough of being a gender victim, I opened my closet door and looked around for the first time in my life. I knew I needed to move past the once-a-year Halloween parties I was attending as my novice transfeminine self and try more ways to get out into the world to see if I could be successful or would my dream of life as a woman always must be a dream. I was ever so cautious as I began by shopping in malls and bookstores which turned out to be low impact areas for novice cross dressers or transgender women. I went to places where my money was more important than my gender which gave me the confidence to do more. More meant testing the public with new and exciting ideas such as stopping at restaurants to eat to see if I had any push back at all. I did not and moved on. Maybe, my why not me was coming true after all.

Sadly, dreams being dreams are not so easy to achieve I found out. Especially in the world of gender change. There was no way I could gloss over all the nuances of being a true transgender woman would entail. Many times, I ended up getting my new high heels stuck in more quicksand than I could have imagined and was fortunate to have found my way out, which I have written about in several blog posts. It occurred when I suffered the loss of male security privilege. However, by this time, I was able to take the good with the bad which was beginning to lessen, and I could see my dream being reality.  Which I had never thought possible.

For the first time in my life, I was beginning to live my why not me moments. I was at the threshold of living the life I had always wanted. Free from the male shackles which had tied me down. Sure, at times, it was unbelievably confusing to do, but with the help of a few women friends I always mention, I made it and was able to get out of the quicksand all together and rebuild my life.

Today, I am a woman who happened to come from a different background than most. But it was my dream to make it, and I did. As I said, I never thought I could or would.

 

 

 

 

Breakfast with the Family

 

JJ Hart.

Just a short post today since I spent most of the morning at breakfast with the supporting side of my mini family.

By “mini”, I meant there were only four of us, my wife Liz, my daughter, son in law and me of course. We met roughly halfway between Dayton, Ohio (where they live) and Cincinnati where Liz and I live. To do so, I needed to take my walk early, which was not a bad idea anyhow because of our ongoing heat advisory.

Because of all of that and the half hour drive, I needed to back time the rest of my activities such as shaving, applying makeup and brushing out my hair. Since we were meeting at a casual breakfast venue, I chose a nice tan sleeveless top with a pair of leggings and flats. As always, I wanted to be comfortable and blend in with the other women. The only hold-up we ran into was the first venue we always went to was closed, so we had to choose another close by. Fortunately, we were near a major interstate exit, and there were a couple of other major breakfast food chains nearby. Plus, the one we chose was not full and we were seated quickly. Sadly, we could not find any locally owned venues to support.

As always, it is about this time, after all these years of being out in public, I still have a little amount of concern over being read in a negative situation. Nothing of that sort happened this morning and I had a great time. The only drawback happened when we discussed how my first wife was doing after her husband passed away last week. She is the mother of my daughter, and she is quite close to the situation.

My kid is a glutton for punishment and even went to an extended family reunion (from my wife’s late husband) last week. You may remember, she has a trans child who she completely supports and is quite liberal, in the middle of a bunch of tRumpt loving cultists. Including a friend of mine from long ago who keeps asking how my dead name is doing. He refuses to call me by my new legal name. Since I never see him anymore, I could care less about him and his political beliefs.

Other than our brief political discussions, we had a great morning and better yet, no one questioned my gender.

 

 

 

Just a Gender Detour

 

Image from Belinda Fewings
on UnSplash

After many years of looking back at my life, I began to think of my transgender experience as merely a detour in my life.

The problem was, there are many types of detours ranging from major closures to small delays. I found I needed to be careful with my navigation quite early when I was in the exploration stage of my mom’s clothes. One speed bump could lead me to an impromptu visit with a psychiatrist who knew nothing about gender issues and wanted to pronounce me mentally ill. Even back then, I knew I was not crazy for wanting to be a girl.

As the years progressed, I became increasingly skilled at sneaking around and dodging the detours in my life. Especially, the major ones such as becoming a parent. Even though the whole experience made me extremely proud, it still changed my life profoundly. I remember thinking at the time if it would affect my desire to be a woman but if anything, the birth process enhanced it. I was still in my detour mode, drinking heavily as I tried to find the nearest exit to help me.

To make up for the detours, I began to leave my closet and explore the world increasingly as a transfeminine person. The entire process meant taking chances such as leaving the house dressed as a woman and dodging many speed bumps along the way. It took me many more years before my path began to smooth out and I could see a clear road ahead. However, I still needed to be very careful with what I was doing. I had a long-term marriage and good job to protect among other male privileges. I was stuck between a giant rock and a hard place I needed to detour around. The rock was the better I did with my male life, and the hard place was my female side resented any incursion into her existence. To be sure, a very difficult place to be.

Then there were the times I crashed with my wife and was caught coming home late from one of my nightly gender adventures. A prime example was the night a lesbian was flirting with me and bought me a beer and said she should take me home with her. I was flattered and ended up staying too long and arriving home late. The ensuing fight lasted days after I hit that speed bump. Sadly, there were other times when I crashed on my own by driving an old sports car, which I bought that had the habit of suddenly not starting on occasion. Of course, one night when I was at a gay venue approximately twenty minutes from home, the car would not start. Fortunately, I had planned and left me enough time to call a tow truck and arrive home before my wife did. I had survived yet another close call.

My gender detours did not begin to go away until I started to really be allowed behind the gender curtain. It was after I had placed the gay venues firmly behind me in my rearview mirror and started to prove a fulltime life as a transgender woman was possible for me. The only problem was how fast I should dare to go. In those days, I still had my wife, family and job to worry about. As it turned out, destiny stepped in and showed me the way. Tragically my wife and several dear friends passed away leaving me alone to decide my future.  In addition, my road crew removed other detours such as employment when I discovered I could take my Social Security early and sell collectibles to make ends meet. My final indication I had a clear path ahead was when the Veterans’ Administration health care program approved gender affirming hormones for qualifying veterans. I was qualified and made a big jump towards my gender transition.

By this time, even I could see my detours towards living my dream were coming down, and I was in a now or never situation. I was sixty and had put up with my gender indecisions long enough. I went into a double retirement by quitting a job that I hated and gave away all my male clothes to charity.

Looking back, if I had known all the detours, I would have to take in my life just to survive, I wonder if I would have taken a different path. On the other hand, I was locked into a route I was taking and had no choice. Sure, I would have tried other ways around to get to where I was going. Such as attempting to come out quicker than I did and stop lying to myself. One way or another it is too late now to cry over spilled makeup.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is always One.

 

Event Venue where party was held.

There is always one person who does not know how to or wants to keep their mouth shut around my wife Liz and me.

I am referring to my night of affirmation I referred to in yesterday’s post. Everything got off to a wonderful start as we found the venue a little early and chose a seat in the shade as we enjoyed a pre-dinner drink. Plus, I found my daughter, son-in-law and middle grandchild quite easily. So, I was ready to relax and prepare for a fun filled evening without having to explain myself and my gender choices.

It turned out that I relaxed too soon because after my mother-in-law sat down beside me to once again question my health. Even though I am not very mobile, I have been very fortunate so far to escape any major health problems. That is when things began to get very interesting in the question department. My mother-in-law’s sister promptly sat down in the empty seat beside her and started asking me questions.  That is when the “fun” started.

First, she assumed I was my daughter’s mom, I think.  My assumption of her was she was an older lesbian. It turned out assumptions are like rear ends on people; everyone has one because we were both wrong. I told her I was my daughter’s parent when she said I was her father. Then she could not shut up and waded in further into my personal life. Sitting on the other side of me was my wife Liz and the woman promptly asked Liz if I was her husband. Liz quickly said no, I was her wife. Liz handled it beautifully and the woman moved on, I thought.

By this time, I thought the woman would have learned her lesson and just shut up, but I was wrong. She was one of those people who just can’t leave well enough alone, and it seemed I was the target until she became bored. Obviously, she had no knowledge of our family’s recent history. She was ignorant of the fact that one of the quests of honor last night was also transgender and was there with their partner also.

Then, my first wife showed up and grabbed a seat at the table and I became involved with talking to her. She is the mother of my daughter and will always have that bond, plus she does have some contact with my brother’s wife who rejected me for being transgender so long ago. There was a lot to talk about so I could ignore the woman who probably see she was being ignored by them. But not all the way.

The photographer began to round up the family for pictures after dinner. To start, he asked for the men to gather. My new friend? Looked at me for a second to tell me it was my turn for pictures until I glared at her and did not move. Obviously, she had not learned, and I waited for the photographer to call for the rest of the family to come up for pictures.

Regardless of what she thought, there were pictures taken I should be able to pass along later.

All too soon, Liz and I’s evening at the celebration was over and I did get to see and talk to my transgender grandchild before they take off for their new job in Maine. That was the important part and any dealings I had with anyone else faded away. Hopefully the woman left with a new understanding of the gender spectrum and even better learning how to keep her mouth shut around us. But I doubt it.

The best part is my daughter, and I have pledged to get together more often for breakfast in the future. Without the prying negative comments of an opinionated person who does not know what she is talking about. I don’t think she was a true transphobe, just a person who did not know enough to keep her mouth shut. Obviously, I have had all the right to be called a parent instead of a father and for her to recognize it. Whether or not she ever realizes it, it will be up to her. If she does, I hope I have played a small role in helping to change someone else’s life, who really needed it. I have to say it was difficult not to be negative with her and I was not. Which put me in a transgender educational position I did not anticipate being in. As my affirmation day proved to be much more by helping the public view of transgender population having families and life’s like so many others.

Some people just can’t seem to say no when faced with discussing situations they know nothing about.

 

 

 

 

Affirmation Day

 

Image from Cate Bligh
on UnSplash

A much-needed affirmation day for me is here.

Today is the event I have written so much about. By pure chance, three of my daughter’s family have graduated from various institutions and will celebrate today.  

With a little luck (and planning on my daughter’s part) my transgender grandchild will return from their post-graduation trip walking the Appalachian trail. They graduated with a degree in nuclear engineering from The Ohio State University in the winter and immediately landed a job with the Navy as a civilian in Maine. They and theirs are their chosen pronouns.

Not to be outdone, my son in law is receiving his MBA this summer and my youngest grandson is graduating from high school. A group of overachievers to be sure!

This is where my affirmation comes in. The entire event is a safe space for me to go to where I can recharge my gender batteries for the future. Plus, my best ally, my wife Liz, will be by my side.

To be on the safe side, I have been planning ahead for months on what I am going to wear. I am aiming to be dressy and feminine without going overboard since I don’t know much about the venue.

I chose my favorite lacy feminine top and am pairing them with comfortable leggings and shoes since I don’t know how far I will have to walk. As always, I don’t want to stand out, I want to blend in. Sometimes, there are pictures taken, so if I get one, I will pass it along.

Past that, I have been able to do much of my pre-body preparation in advance, so today all I need to do is a close shave, makeup and hair to get ready. We have a reasonable drive to go north to Dayton, Ohio from Cincinnati to arrive at the venue.

As we go and I get my gender batteries recharged, I will let you know what happens.  

Painting a Picture

 

Image from Vinicus Amix
Amano on UnSplash.

During my life, I have never been accused of being an artist. In fact, I would mess up drawing stick figures.

The best thing I could do was connect dots. Which I needed to do quite often in my gender conflicted life. Basically, the main dots I needed to connect were, was I a boy or a girl. It ended up taking me far too long to finally connect those dots and attempt to draw my gender picture.

When I began to experiment with makeup, I learned the basics of facial artwork and even I could make myself look better in the mirror. Mainly, though, I struggled along until I summoned the courage to request a makeover from a professional makeup person at one of the transgender-cross dresser mixers I went to. He did a miracle job and transformed me into a woman who I only had dreamed of. Most importantly, he was able to explain to me what he was doing in a step-by-step format that even I could understand. I looked so good, I was invited along by the “A” listers, as I called them when they went out to explore other venues after the mixer was over. I even got the last laugh over all of them when a man tried to pick me up in a venue we were in, and they were not.

Sadly, the success I felt from the mixer did not last long when I had to go back to the real world, I was a part of. When I did, I became mean and nasty to my wife and others around me. All the way to almost losing jobs because of my attitude. No way to paint a picture. Somehow, I needed to get better before I self-destructed my life.

I hung on until I did get better when I had the chance to leave my closet more than once a year for Halloween parties. I was aided by the fact that my artwork with makeup and clothes continued to improve until I looked better than some sort of a circus clown in drag. I simply had to if I was ever going to have the chance to live my dream. Through it all, it did occur to me how difficult the process was going to be. I was painting two pictures at the same time, one as a transfeminine woman. One as a successful man. The stress of doing so nearly killed me. Being a man was easier because of all the white male privileges I had gained but being a transfeminine woman felt so exciting and natural when I painted her.

By the time I had gotten this far, I found I had painted myself in a corner. I could see the finish line for a change, while at the same time, I had a wife I loved, a family I loved and a good job to protect as a man. Decisions, decisions were wearing me down. Primarily because it was so frustrating to me to have worked so hard throughout my life to paint two pictures, only to have to finally choose between the two. What I did was let the public choose which picture they preferred. Since my transgender woman had an unfair advantage, she won the contest easily. She got to start all over again and learn from all the mistakes her male counterpart made and go from there. Time and time again, the public picked her.

Putting the finishing touches on my feminine portrait proved to be easier said than done. First, I needed to come out of my closet to what was left of my blood family. I received a 50/50 reception when I was accepted by my daughter and rejected by my brother. By this time both of my parents were deceased. Predictably, both coming out events were scary and quickly resolved. My daughter wondered why she was the last to know while my brother did not have the courage to stand up for me to the rest of his extended family. We have not spoken now in over a decade. Sad but true, he never wanted to see my finished portrait. Conversely, my daughter and I are closer than ever.

But then again, are our portraits ever finished until we die. Shouldn’t we always be making small upgrades the best we can? Plus, age should put us in a better position to do it. Sure, painting two completely different gender portraits at the same time was difficult and at times required tons of skill to keep one hidden. But somehow, I was able to gain the artistic skill to make it happen.

The powerful draw of an overwhelming dream was all the motivation I needed to become a better artist and provide the background I needed to live a life as a transgender woman.

Coming Home

 

JJ Hart (Center) Wife Liz on Left, 
Daughter on Right. 

The process of crossing the gender border from male to female, always felt as if I was coming home.

From the beginning, my dual genders clashed, causing me to often sacrifice my already fragile mental illness when I was diagnosed as being bi-polar. Naturally, it was difficult to separate one issue from another when I became depressed and just wanted to curl up in a ball and left alone. On most occasions, I could just cross dress in front of the mirror and take my mind temporarily off my trip to find my true home.

The trip proved to be much longer than I ever thought it would. I never considered it would take me on a fifty-year odyssey. Complete with too many blind curves and dead ends to mention. If I was to attempt to mention any of the major problems I had with my transition was there would be so many more transitions than one. The gender border crossing was so complex, it would take me several different ways at once. I finally came to the point where I was simply trying to raise the bar of living as a transgender woman every time I went out in public. In my earliest days, it meant concentrating on more than just my feminized appearance. I needed to put my appearance, no matter how good or bad, into motion. What good would it be to look like an attractive woman if I was moving like a linebacker.

Every time I made a move forward in my transition, I could imagine myself living my gender dream. Which in most cases scared me more than anything else. What would my life be like without all the male privilege I worked so hard to earn. Perhaps the only stable idea I learned was I was much more than the casual cross dresser who just wanted to put on a dress for certain occasions. As suspected from my earliest days of admiring myself in the mirror as a girl. I wanted to do much more such as be a girl or at the least find out if the public would accept me as one.

I put many hours of work into my femininized presentation. I tried and tried to get my makeup right, even to the point of losing nearly fifty pounds on a diet I undertook. When I lost weight, I was able to fit into my stylish clothes, so it was a huge win for me. Along with the intense skin care routine I followed. Suddenly, I discovered I could use less make up and prove less was more. All these moves proved coming home indeed may be reality if I kept working hard enough. For the first time in my life, I made a concerted effort to achieve a very real goal. My transgender womanhood.

As I said, coming home involved several other minor and major transitions. I began to do so called womanly duties such as grocery shopping into my days when I could. I also added gift shopping at Christmas (and other times) to my time as a woman. Through it all, I was learning how the world would possibly accept me when I was able to make it home. All these actions showed me the feasibility of proceeding with my gender plans, though many questions remained unanswered.  Such as, what would I do about the basics of my life such as what to do about my wife, extended family, friends and having a basic income to live on.

It was around this time when destiny set in to provide me with major answers in my life. Tragically my second wife passed away, at the age of fifty, along with most all of my very few male friends. As far as family was concerned, my daughter stepped up to be my most steadfast ally, until my third wife Liz stepped into my life. Finally, I learned if I waited a relatively short period of time, I could take an early retirement on Social Security and solve my financial issues. The only loss I sustained was with my brother and his extended family who roundly rejected me. So much for close family ties.

When I made it to my true home, it was like day and night. It was as if a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. My mental health improved with the help of therapy, and I was better able to face my life on a more equal basis than I ever had before. Surprisingly, I had very little re-arranging to do to live in my new house. It seemed my inner female self-had been not so patiently waiting for her chance to take over my life. Once she earned her spot in the public eye, she knew exactly what to do to survive.

 

 

Coming Out Day

 

Key Largo Boat Trip

Recently, I have written several times how my daughter rose to the occasion and drove the six plus hours to Atlanta from Ohio to rescue my wife Liz and I when we were stuck after I landed in the hospital and could not finish our bus trip back.

Our plight became increasingly desperate after there were no rental cars available for us to rent for the trip back. 

This is not the first time I have needed to turn to my daughter for help in my life. First and foremost was the time I came out to her as my authentic transgender self. To my surprise, instead of rejecting me, she simply said why was she the last to know. When in fact, she was one of the first family members I had ever tried to explain who I truly was to. She was under the impression her mother, who was/is my first wife knew I was trans. When in fact her mom knew all along, I was a cross dresser but never knew I wanted to pursue our gender issues any further. The only other person my daughter was referring to was my second wife or her stepmother who always rejected any idea of her living with another woman if I transitioned. So, I needed to explain to my kid, she really was the first.

I remember the coming out day so long ago like it was yesterday. Naturally, I was petrified yet secretly excited to tell another person my deepest, darkest secret. I was leading a hidden life all along and never wanted to be male at all. 

Once I blurted out my transgender truth, I felt immediately better. Especially so after I learned of my daughter's enthusiastic and unqualified acceptance of me. She immediately made plans to go shopping with me, which I rejected and then made an appointment for me at her upscale beauty spa for a hair makeover for my birthday. To this day, the appointment she made was one of the most life changing feminine experiences I have ever gone through. Very quickly I learned why cis women everywhere cherish their time with their beauty stylist. 

Now, as my daughter is coming close to finish raising three wonderful kids (including one who is transgender) it seems she is now shifting to care giver mode with several elderly extended family members. Including me of course. I am so fortunate to have Liz to help me also to take most all of the possible burden off of my daughter. 

In the meantime, I can't say enough about how much I appreciate all the help she has given me. I consider myself a very independent person and being a senior transgender woman has put added pressures into my life. This latest bout I fought with Covid has brought me into an increased focus of what is important in my life. My health and the people around me.   

Merry Christmas

Leg Lamp from the "Christmas Story"

 Doesn't seem possible another year has flown by and here I am writing another Christmas Day blog post as the "Yule Log" plays on the television behind my wife Liz and me.

Earlier this morning, I cried tears of sorrow and joy. The sorrow came from remembering the times of my life when my family was strong, and we had festive Christmases. Plus, I am old enough to remember how much fun it was when the downtown was vibrant and glowing with its holiday decorations. Now around here at least, the downtowns have been replaced by sterile decaying malls or outside shopping centers. I even cried when I recalled the life my ex-brother and I shared. 

Now, the tears of joy. Slowly but surely as I began to think about the present, I shed tears when I thought of the love I feel for Liz and how fortunate I am to have someone to love me in a season where so many others, especially in the transgender community just don't. When my brother and his family rejected me during the holiday season over a decade ago, I found a new family with my daughter and Liz. I know I am blessed.

On this Christmas, I also make sure I watch a couple of my favorite classics such as "It's a Wonderful Life" and Ralphie's "The Christmas Story." Ralphie is especially special to me because the time period it represents is roughly the same as mine growing up. The only difference is, instead of the BB Gun Ralphie so desperately wanted, in my case I received the gun but did not get what I wanted, a doll baby. It is poetic justice, I guess.

Regardless, I hope you have a Merry Christmas with blood or chosen family and thanks for joining me!

 

Tennis Anyone?

Image from Tony Luginsland
on UnSplash.

 Back when I managed a prominent casual dining/bar venue, we had two women who would frequently come to our bar after finishing their round of tennis. 

Of course, I always noticed and was jealous of their short tennis outfits. I immediately put acquiring some sort of a tennis outfit on my cross dressing to do list. Since I had always admired short mini skirts and dresses on women, finding a short mini white dress to wear as the primary part of a tennis outfit was a priority.

As luck would have it, I found the ideal dress at a women's clothing shop in a mall I always went to. Once I had the white dress, I discovered the rest of the outfit would be fairly easy to put together. I ended up finding an inexpensive pair of white tennis shoes and socks to go with the shoes. The only problem I had then was what I was going to do about the hair on my legs. 

Even though my wife knew I shaved my legs on occasion, she was not overjoyed when I shaved. Primarily because she worried, I was up to no good when I shaved my legs, and she was right. On this occasion, I could not wait to show off my legs and new tennis outfit in one of the malls I always went to. Before I went to the mall, as always, I needed to create the time to do it away from my wife's disapproving eyes. I waited until she was working a day shift, and I began the fairly intense process of shaving my face and legs. 

Once I completed the shave and applied my makeup and hair, I was ready to test out my new tennis look outfit on the world. Immediately, I felt the thrill of my shaved legs in the short white dress I was wearing. So out the door I went into the world. As I arrived in the mall, I noticed my supposedly admiring public was primarily made up of retired men in the mall just to walk and admire the view. Since I was the view, I wore a pair of sunglasses so I could watch their reaction to me without being obvious. It worked and I could see them staring at the tall blond in a tennis outfit.

As I saw it, I received all the pleasure from tennis without putting in all the work. Now all I needed to figure out was how to hide my extra women's clothing. On this occasion, I used a little used closet and hid my new treasured outfit among a set of my old male clothes I never wore. 

For a change, my ideas of how to come as close as I could to learning for myself how a woman would feel in a tennis outfit came together. I could show off my legs and have fun doing it. Plus, I could cross another item off my transgender bucket list. Quickly, I was off to another quest. 

Seraching for Me

Image from Selcuk S
On UnSplash.

Ironically, during my life I have spent too much time searching for who the true me was.

Naturally, I am referring to finding the springboard I needed to determine which gender I was. When I was younger, I made the habit of waking up in the morning wondering if I was a boy or a girl. I was very gender fluid for years before I decided which gender direction was the correct one for me. The problem was I needed to put on my gender blinders and attack the world daily as a male. Something I never wanted to do.

It turned out the springboard I needed to find out the me I was looking for was still a long way in coming. I still needed to cross or follow many paths before I found me. More precisely, I had parenthood come into my life as well as many challenges such as military service, marriages and just life in many ways. I was constantly searching for my gender by going out and exploring the world to find out if I could ever achieve my dream of transgender womanhood. The journey was so difficult when I experienced negative feedback From stares and giggles, all the way to people singling me out for pictures, I did it all before I made a better effort to blend in with the rest of the world.

All in all, I found just being me was going to be much more complicated than I ever thought possible. It all started for me in the days when I always thought the grass was always going to be greener for me on the feminine side of the border. I discovered, even though my trip across the border was terrifying at times, on the other hand I felt so good and natural, I knew there could and would be no turning back. No matter how easy it would have been. At times, I was even a bit jealous of men who had never experienced any gender issues and were able to live out their lives enjoying male privileges. It all just was not in the cards for me during my life.

Just me, turned out to be so much more. I am a parent, a grandparent and a spouse to a supporting wife. In other words, I am so fortunate to be surrounded by people who care for me. Plus during my life I have been able to take an in-depth dive into how both main binary genders operate. What really breaks my heart is when one of the bigoted transphobic political commercials comes on with all it's lies. I want to tell the haters that even though I am a transgender woman, I have a life not so different from theirs. I am just busy being me.

Perhaps the problem is, since my life turned out to be more complex than the so-called norm, so people don't want to understand or care. 

By this time in my life, I have learned being just me will have to be good enough. I have worked too long and hard to give it up now. From having a gender fluid lonely youth to finding my true self in trans womanhood, I think I have been fortunate to end up where I am. Plus, I will continue to advocate for all transgender women or trans men such as my transgender grandchild with their whole life ahead. There is so much to do. Maybe I can just be a positive example to another novice transgender person still living firmly in their closet. Who knows? Maybe you can be next to escape and live as your authentic self.

What Would Mom Say

Image from Jenna Norman
on UnSplash

This week my question to answer on the year long bio I am writing for my daughter and family as well as my wife Liz involved what parent I learned the most from.  

As I compared my Mom and Dad, easily I learned the most from Mom. Outside of the usual circumstances, I found I could find many more opportunities to spotlight Mom's influence on me. For example, I remember at a very early age watching Mom put on her makeup. Being a product of the "greatest generation" she was not shy about dressing up. However, I don't think watching makeup being applied led me to being a transvestite or even a transgender woman really mattered. Somehow the gender issues I faced went much deeper. Perhaps as deep as the medication Mom took during her pregnancy (DES) which was offered to women at the time to prevent problem births.

It turned out, I was successfully delivered just before my parents had decided to give up after three still births and adopt a child. I think because of all of that, my Mom put an extra emphasis on raising me and my brother who came along two years later. So much so, I wonder now what would have happened if Mom would have realized she had a daughter rather than a son. In all fairness to her, the fifties during my youth had very little information on gender issues. When it was available, gender issues were known as mental illness. 

Throughout the years, I always mistakenly thought girls had all the benefits in life I always wanted. Girls were able to wear the pretty clothes I wanted, be gifted the dolls I wanted and even never had to worry about being drafted and serving in the military. Male privileges were not known to me in those days because I had not yet earned any. As a side note, once I did earn the benefits of being male, I learned some of them were automatic and I did not want them anyhow.

I have forever wondered what my life would have been with Mom had I been born a biological female. Being as similar personality wise as we were, we fought quite a bit as mother/pseudo son and I have to think it would have been worse as a daughter. Mom was very headstrong and I am sure we would have had battles over fashion styles in the 1960's as well as when I could begin using makeup. In fact, when I was sneaking around using her makeup, I was probably younger than I would have been had I been her actual daughter.  I am sure too, Mom would have tried to influence me into going to her college and joining her sorority. She would have done her best to push me down a certain path which was certainly going against my generation's rules at that time in history during the upheaval in the later 1960's.

By this time, you may be asking where was Dad during all of this. It was not like he was not an influence in my life but he was not as hands on as Mom was. He was long on providing and short on emotions which I struggled with for most of my life. One thing I remember most about him was how desperate I was to never disappoint him and since I rarely if ever heard a positive from him, I never knew what he really thought of my life. He was blessed with excellent health and outlived my Mom by ten years and I never came out to him before his death from Dementia.

I did try to come out to Mom but it was a dismal failure for both of us. Predictably, when I told her I wanted to be a woman, she offered up mental health counseling. The conversation took place just after I was finished with my military duty and was never mentioned again until her death fifty years later. I used to hold her thoughts against her and was quite bitter but I gradually mellowed with age and came to realize she was just a product of her generation. 

To honor all her sacrifices, I used her first name as my middle name when I legally changed my gender markers nearly ten years ago. Had I had the opportunity to be accepted as her daughter from the beginning, it would have been interesting how our lives would have intersected. Way past the pushback I would have received for wearing my skirts too short and wearing too much makeup when I was a teenager. I know what Mom would have said. You aren't leaving the house looking like that. Maybe I should have thought of that when I tried and failed to dress that way later in life.  

 

Building from the Inside Out

 

Image from Brooke Cagle
on UnSplash

Years ago I began to understand I was building a new human being from the inside out.

I began to realize it when a person very close to me told me how fortunate I was to be able to start over in the world as a transgender woman. At first I was scared, could I really re-create myself as a woman and at the same time achieve my ultimate feminine dream. Following years of living and training, I found I could indeed live a life as a trans woman.

Before I did, I needed to decide what old male baggage I would have to discard or adjust to the fact I would have to bring it with me. It was difficult since I decided to seriously began my gender transition at the age of sixty, I had years to consider what to do with my baggage. Initially, I was part of the old transsexual school which believed you had to totally uproot your life and move when you transitioned and start all over. The problem I had was, there was some baggage from my old life I wanted to bring with me. For example, I wanted to try to preserve contact with my family and wondered if my wife (who I loved completely) would ever accept me. Not to mention other key points of my life including my passion for watching sports. 

Fairly quickly, as I transitioned, I was able to indirectly control all I was building from the inside out. By this time, I had worked out most of the appearance or fashion challenges I faced, allowing me to work on expressing my internal self. First of all, I learned my only child accepted me totally and my only sibling (a brother) did not. Sadly, we have not communicated in over a decade now. I know I have survived and I have assumed he has also and we moved on. Since I was now a different person now and he is entrenched in his ways, I am sure it has all been for the best although it hurt me how he handled it by rejecting my invitation to the family's annual Thanksgiving feast.

In many ways, having the opportunity to rebuild myself was terrifying yet exciting. Along the way, I found I needed to transition again. Mainly when I finally decided to make the mental move from cross dresser to transgender woman. I say mental move because I wasn't doing anything outwardly any different as I was doing my best to put my best appearance foot forward as a woman. I knew if I was successful, there would be no turning back on my gender path. It was a huge continuing beginning in the process of leaving my male world behind.

By this time, I was well on my way of deciding what baggage I could bring with me and what I could leave behind. I was preparing to give what was left of my male clothes to a charity and I had fairly quickly established myself as a regular in a couple of the big sports bars I had frequented as a guy. By doing so, I could meet my small group of new women friends I had met and watch the games we all enjoyed. My new life was coming together from the inside out and I was loving it. 

Even still, it sometimes took all the concentration I had to remember I was living a new life and I needed to rely on my inner female to carry it out. By doing so, I was able to say what I was thinking and not screw it up by injecting any of my old toxic male self. The only thing I could rely on was my new friends and their reaction to me since they had no clue of the old me. It was very liberating to say the least. 

Overall, I have to say, building the interior person was more intense when compared to the exterior woman the world saw. Especially when I needed to communicate more and more with the public as my new self. When I did build from the inside out, I learned to live my truth and empower my life as a transgender woman.

  

A Trangender Happy Place?

 

Picnic Image from the Archives. 
Liz on right. 

Is there really ever a "happy place" to be considered if you are a transgender woman or a transgender man.

During our lives, we go through so much turmoil and change, we have very little chance to be happy with our choices. Primarily because we enter our interactions with others in a dramatic way. A prime example is the swapping of gender privileges. I remember vividly the night I lost a portion of my intelligence when I attempted to talk about a topic I knew quite a bit about with a man, It was the opposite of the intimidation a trans man friend I know told me about his new communication skills with other men, including rest room visits. Up to the point of me thinking initially the only privilege I was gaining was having men open the door for me. Later I learned I was wrong, there were other more substantial privileges to be gained by joining the world of women. They were just hidden from me and I needed to earn it. 

All the gender privileges in the world I found could not make me happy. Of course I could trace my search of the illusive happiness back to my up bringing. Being happy was not a priority in our family and I did not know how to be happy. So it took me years to at the least be satisfied with my gender transition process but not happy. I just had to be willing to take the walk. Since the walk included many ups and downs, my happy place still was difficult to find. Also, per norm, I was doing my transition different than many others. 

Examples are how I found other women who accepted me for who I was. I did it by going out repeatedly as a single transgender woman and risking the inherent danger in doing so. I was lucky and escaped several potential risks to my personal safety when I did it. The small circle of friends I found and I consumed way too much alcohol and drove all too frequently. Something I do not recommend to anyone. Another chance I took was going on line dating sites to try to find a partner since I was so lonely. Predictably, I was hammered by trash and less than stable responses. Plus, when I refused to meet up with the occasional local person who responded to me, unless we met first in a public spot, I was met with no shows or some squirrely guy who wanted to wear my panties. Not to mention the guys who were married. One of which I had a fabulous date night with but I knew there was no future. 

Through it all, I was still thinking I could find happiness. Somehow, I knew happiness could be around the next corner of the path I was on and was I blaming I could not be happy because I was transgender. Quoting "Jelly Roll" there was a very dark hallway between my ears. I needed to give up any ideas of impostor syndrome when I was successful in the world of women. I could not be happy until I gave up all of the guilt. After all, I was not doing anything wrong when I just was attempting to leave my old male self behind and live as my authentic self. 

All of this leads me to the question, am I happy now and does a transgender happy place really exist. While I am satisfied with my life as it exists now, I still work at being happy. For me happiness will be a learned response I can blame my parents for and not a result of being transgender. In fact, more than a few of the moments I call gender euphoria (or happiness) came because of my gender journey. 

The problem with envisioning a life of not having gender issues is impossible for me because I have always lived with it and it was never a choice. So I am biased that a happy transgender place has been very difficult for me, I have partially lit the dark place between my ears and am constantly searching for more. 

Legacy?

Messy Office, Messy Mind?

As I see it, leaving a legacy is mostly a male topic.

Little did I know, being a transgender woman was probably the only legacy I could leave with my only child (daughter) and my three grand-kids. As it turned out, I did not have much else to offer. Especially not the usual male attributes such as wealth, possessions etc. A prime example was my Dad who was a self made man. Building his own house and rising to the position of bank president, mainly with just a high school education. 

Along the way, I was surprised to learn one of my grand-kids is transgender, so all of a sudden I became a role model. A role I never thought I would have during all the years of struggle I went through as I transitioned from my old unwanted male life. It turned out in many ways, I proved to my grand-kids anything was possible if they wanted it bad enough. And I was fortunate in that my daughter accepted me the way she did and wanted to share my new self with the kids. So I could not run away and hide. 

I was so successful, I made it to heights I never asked for or ever thought I could achieve. Without a doubt the biggest one when two years ago I received my first Mother's Day card and gift. The card brought me to tears because it was something I never asked for. It meant to me I made it to the pinnacle of my gender transgender transition. 

Adding to my legacy is a year long project my daughter gifted me this Mother's Day from a company who takes questions about me from the family for the duration and then combines them all into a book. When it is completed, I will have had the chance to write about myself and maybe equally as important, is the fact the kids will have the chance to learn about their great grandparents who they did not know anything about. It is important for me to be some sort of a bridge from the "Greatest Generation" my parents were part of to the kids of today. The entire gift is quite the chance to explain my legacy to my daughter and grand-kids. Since I have a degree in history from college, the entire process is important to me.

Legacy was something I had given up on when I left my male life behind. I thought no one would care. When it turned out they did, I was impressed and needed to change my attitude completely. In a way, all of a sudden having family care about my life made me proud of my gender accomplishments.  I indeed would have a legacy as a transgender woman past just someone who changed their name in the family bibles. 

Years ago, a friend of mine did a deep dive family tree research on my families, mother and father and found we had a revolutionary war relative. Perhaps now in the future, after I am gone, some other person with gender issues will read my story and understand they are not the first, not alone and can be successful living the life they want to live.