Being Better as a Trans Woman

 

Image from Donald Gianetti
on UnSplash.

Often you must be better than the world to prove yourself as a transgender woman or transgender man.

An easy example would be we have to be better with our appearance. Because of the current lack of concern over appearance with many ciswomen and cismen, it’s an anything goes fashion world when women are wearing their pajamas and slippers to shop at a big box store, I won’t mention. Because we trans persons have so far to come in the appearance department, we cannot set our appearance bar that low or even want to.

Another problem with appearance is that we have had so few natural advantages to help us along when we first take the tentative steps out of our gender closets. In the case of transgender women, very few have the advantage of escaping the ravages of puberty which gives us angles, broad shoulders and deep voices. So, unlike the curves and softness we see in the women around us and envy so much. To get by in the world as a cross-dresser, we must strive to cover our natural flaws and act like we are not doing it.

The good thing is that ciswomen provide us with a big range of fashion to work from. Some wear dresses, some wear pants, some go without makeup and others don’t as life goes by. All you have to do is grab a spot you feel comfortable in and try to maintain it in a world of curious ciswomen who want to know more about you. You notice I said try to maintain it because early on, finding the best fashion and learning hair and makeup are major challenges we face. As our old bodies do not want to cooperate with the new path you have set them on.

Since I have always felt more comfortable in pants, leggings or well fitted jeans as a trans woman, I often took in criticism from other novice cross-dressers when I went to mixers in pants. Per norm, I did not care what they said about wearing pants as a man all the time so why I would do it as a woman because I was noticing how stylish some women look in their pants. I even had a glamorous silky black low-cut pants suit I wore to prove them wrong. Plus. most importantly what I wore was none of their business if I was aiming to be as good as the world of ciswomen in public at large who were increasingly wearing pants in their wardrobes. Not a bunch of cross-dressers at a social/mixer.

The more I was out in the world and interacting with the public, I discovered that appearance was just a small part of being better than the next person. Following some rough early experiments with my presentation as a transfeminine person, I settled into noticing who was noticing me. I learned men rejected me almost completely (which was fine by me) and women on the other hand wholeheartedly accepted the new me who wanted so badly to be in their world. The percentage of gender acceptance I received totally surprised me and I had to up my game to get better when I faced the public with so much more at stake.

Suddenly, women wanted to talk to me, and I was initially surprised and had to talk back. Then as now, I am very self-conscious about my voice, and it took me what seemed like an eternity to understand my communication skills centered more around what I was saying more than how I was saying it. In fact, I needed feminine vocal lessons to learn more about how women speak to each other. Primarily when men were not around. I also leaned the power of passive aggressive speech behavior in cis women and how it could apply to me when a potentially smiling face did not equal a supportive woman who could just as easy stab you in the back. After I tended to more than a few claw marks down my back, I adjusted to the new world I was in and survived by being better than them.

All these steps led me to pursuing an expanded transgender bucket list of potential things I wanted to do as a trans woman. To learn if I would want to do them on a permanent basis. As my checklist grew, my confidence did too and I discovered how natural I felt in the new exciting yet scary world I was in stripped of all my old male privilege such as dealing with my own personal security. With the menacing male scowl being gone, I had to rely of my new feminine senses to get me by and to stay out of potentially dangerous situations. It was all a major lesson of being better in the world out of a sense of pure survival as a new transgender woman.

At that point, destiny set in for me and set my life upside down as nearly all the loved ones I new and respected passed away. Leaving me all alone. To survive, I had to quickly quit being a victim and decide which direction my life would take. I took the feminine path, was approved for HRT or gender affirming hormones and prepared myself for a bumpy path ahead. At the age of sixty, I needed all the wisdom I had learned from a predominately male life and apply it all to a new female existence and exceed my own expectations.

By taking chances in the world, I had lucked into finding supportive ciswomen friends into my new life and I give them all the credit for the ease that it happened. And it made all the prep work I had done in my life worthwhile. Even still, I found I had to be better than the average woman to find my way and stick to it so I would not slide back to my old male ways.

Before I go, I would like to thank “Grace” for inviting me to write for her group “Empowered Trans Woman” on Medium. I really appreciate it

 

 

 

It's All in the Details of Gender

 

Image from Liam Nguyen 
on UnSplash.

Quite early in life, I learned to pay attention to the details when I followed my instincts and started to cross-dress into mom’s clothes and try to put on her makeup. I thought all was good after I had snuck around and managed to shave my legs again without anyone noticing.

That was until I snagged mom’s hose on an unkept fingernail and ran yet another pair of good stockings or pantyhose. I learned the hard way to take better care of my nails as well as the rest of my body on my path to femininity. Little did I know, paying attention to just the smallest of details would rule my world as I climbed my gender path towards my dream of living fulltime as a transfeminine person.

My major problem was that I was restricted to viewing what a woman’s life was like from the outside in a male dominated family. Through it all, my mom became my mentor and role model more than she ever knew and it went way past just using her makeup and wearing her clothes. I could see how she worked behind the scenes to make sure that the family ran as smoothly as possible. Way past all the traditional female duties such as cleaning and buying groceries. She taught me all that a ciswoman could be at a young age. All the time not realizing what she was doing because she actually had a daughter, not a son.

It was not until I began to get out on my own as a novice cross-dressing transgender woman did; I really have to develop my sense of detail. It was very difficult for me because I was never a detail orientated person. When I went out initially as a trans woman, there just seemed to be so much to concentrate on and remember to do to succeed. Even if I thought I had perfected my fashion, hair and makeup for the evening, there was the problem of putting it all together outside of the mirror and getting all my movements down, so I did not look like a linebacker in drag. The details weighed on me heavily and they were all I thought about in every spare moment I had. So much so that I needed to think ahead to which gender I was at key moments in my life.

It all carried over into life events such as weddings and dances when I had to step back and wonder what I would be wearing if I ever had the opportunity to attend as a trans woman. Sadly, I did get to experience attending a funeral when my wife Liz’s dad passed away after I had transitioned. I wore my best black outfit and did the best I could to blend in properly with all the other ciswomen who attended.

The funeral was just another reality check for me as I needed to face how far I had come in my male to female femininization journey. At my age, I always knew attending a funeral as me was a possibility, but I never knew how real it was until it happened. At that time too, reality and details were becoming increasingly important as I expanded my life in the world to new and exciting groups of strangers such as in spiritual circles and Meetups of writers in Cincinnati. They were the first groups of strangers that I had ever met outside of LGBTQIA+ support groups I attended locally and at the Veterans Administration in Dayton, Ohio. Meeting new people as I said was exciting and kept me active at an exciting time of discovery in my life.

By this time, repetition replaced my need for detail as my makeup habits, along with clothing needs became ingrained as I finally knew who I was in my life. No more searching in a dark lonely closet for an answer. I had it with the help of the world of new and exciting discoveries I was in. I had brief moments of releasing my gender euphoria before but nothing like this before as all the possibilities of the world were opened to me. When I sought out and was approved for HRT or gender affirming hormones. Which I write about a lot. New emotions outweighed the need for details as I moved ever closer to being the person I always wanted to be.

One thing I never forgot as I male to female transitioned was how I was treated early on and how I needed to respond by going back to my cross-dressing drawing board time and time again until I got my details correct. There was so much more to what I was trying to do than my home mirror had told me as I tried to exit my gender closet for good. All I knew was, once I was released from my loneliness, I never wanted to go back. I spent as much time as I could out in the world working on my feminine presentation so I could overcome my testosterone poisoned body and make it.

I cannot stress enough how much of my journey has been filled with fear and or panic when I lost key male privileges such as intelligence and personal security. Details just weren’t enough to help me through all the anxiety I felt meeting strangers in my new exciting world. In fact, just yesterday, I felt the same old twinges of panic sneak in when Liz’s son and I had to take our old lawn mower into the shop for a tuneup. After all these years in the public eye and I still have the same problem is ridiculous I know, but I still do when I am entering predominantly male spaces for any reason. Again, all went well as the young person at the mower place was only interested in taking care of us. Not my gender.

All in all, the extreme work I put into crossing the gender border was worth it as I achieved my goal of living the life I wanted to live. Even though there were times when I did not think I was going to make it.

Thanks so much for joining me with my life experiences. Hopefully you can gain some insight into your life from them. Comments are always welcome!

 

Imagine your Dream

 

JJ Hart on left, Pic Nicking with Liz on right.

Yesterday, I went with my wife Liz to her appointment with her “vampires” to have her blood labs done.

When I did, I had a chance to sit around and watch the other ciswomen in the waiting room and see if they were watching me at all. They were not and went on as they all were too busy on their cell phones to even come close to noticing the trans woman in the room. Instead of me joining them on my phone, I thought back to a time when just going to a doctor’s appointment was not such an easy task because of all the gender paranoia I was feeling. A gigantic case of impostor syndrome to be sure.

Early in life, as I imagined my dream of living a transfeminine life, I never factored in all the mundane things a woman does during her life. I was too busy being the “Pretty, pretty princess” as my second wife always called me. And to her I would have been about the furthest thing away from being any sort of a princess in the waiting room that there was. I would have never dreamed I would have been seen in public without being dressed from head to toe as close to an attractive woman than I could.

Nobody but me cared that my dream had changed and I was alright in jeans, t-shirt and light makeup to be seen anywhere in public. I was just another person with very long hair and breasts in a doctor's office. Had I become lazy in my old age or just dressing to blend in with a public who increasingly does not seem to care about feminine appearance.

Maybe I was just being selfish in that I was OK with just dressing to blend in with the rest of the world around me who were too busy on their cell phones to notice me at all. Is that what my dream had become? Perhaps I am being too demanding in my dream that I wanted it to turn out a certain way. And, I certainly did not set out to be some sort of a leader in the ciswomen’s fashion world, I had had enough pressure on me to lead for a lifetime when I was living in a cisman’s world. I just wanted to fade into a new world and learn it totally. As I come closer to the age of seventy-seven, I think I can safely say I have reached that goal I set so long ago.

Coming up Saturday, my daughter and son-in-law are making the trip down to Cincinnati from Dayton, Ohio to bring me a scrap book of family pictures and have breakfast with Liz and I. For that visit, I will certainly attempt to dress up more for the occasion, which will include a new top I bought, along with new flats and even tying my long, long hair back also. She is the only accepting blood relation I have left, so it will be good to get out of the house and see them.

In many ways, the visit will prove my dream is not dead as I get to relive the fun of dressing up different as a transgender woman. Which was one of the fantasies I had when I started so long ago up my gender path. I should have known that my path would have been different as I veered away for just wearing skirts and dresses and sticking with slacks and women’s pants. Much to the chagrin of the cross-dressers around me who kept asking me why I would want to wear pants when I had to wear them all the time as a guy. My only answer was that I liked the way I looked in them, so now you can go away and mind your own business.

I guess you can say that even in my formative years as a novice transgender woman, I have always been a “tom-boy” of sorts. Which is probably another reason I fit in so well with the lesbian culture that I did in my jeans and boots. One way or another, the pieces of my lifetime dreams puzzle were coming together and even though I was too stubborn to initially accept it, the finished puzzle was all me. “Tom-boy” and all.

I was fortunate too when I discovered that and became a firm believer in my gender was completely between my ears and not between my legs. Which made feel less bad about not having any access to the early sex-change or gender realigning surgeries which were available at the time. My complex life was slowly coming into focus, and the best part was that I increasingly felt comfortable and confident with it.

Coming full circle back to Liz’s blood work appointment, I had the chance to remember the bad old days when even such a mundane trip such as that could cause me strain and paranoia. It felt so good to feel good about myself and confidently walk in proudly holding Liz’s hand. I never wanted to go back to the early days of gender dysphoria and impostor syndrome that I suffered through.

The moral to the story is that if you are on your path to a gender dream goal, there is no real unique way to get there. Ciswomen lead such complex lives that they leave you many ways to carve out your own. Way past the shallow aspects of appearance and sexuality. Which gives you more interesting sidelights of your life to explore and live. Just remember to stay safe as your personal safety privileges you had as a man go away forever. You are just learning what ciswomen have always known…stay clear of toxic men.

In the end, it is your dream to claim if you can get there, and to do it you may face challenges until the final pieces of your puzzle come together. Just remember, you are attempting one of the complex and difficult efforts a human can try and even if it so difficult to do, it can be worth it in the end.

 

 

 

 

Gender Binges

 

Image from Andy Arjun
on UnSplash.  

Binge cross-dressing happened a lot to me when I was quite young.

Once I was able to scrape together my meager finances to put together a small wardrobe of feminine clothes that barely fit me, I could not stay away from wearing them more and more. In fact, I was able to come up with two main hiding places away from the prying eyes of my family and most importantly, my slightly younger brother. It was about that time that I really became involved with binging in my new clothes which I felt made me look like a pretty girl.

Very soon, regardless of the risk involved with me cross-dressing as a girl, I was doing it as much as I could get away with. I think now that my mom had to know something about my cross-dressing but was either afraid to say anything about such a complex subject or thought it was a phase that would go away. Obviously, the joke was on her. My wanting to be a woman never did go away; I just matured into it. Plus, back in the late 1950’s and early 1960's, there was very little good information about gender issues to deal with, so we were on our own as gender issues were called mental illnesses. Which even I knew at such a young age was not true. For all I knew at the time, I really liked experimenting with mom’s clothes and makeup and binge dressing was becoming routine.

As I said, once I began to mature into being a more accomplished cross-dresser (even before I considered myself transgender) I managed to dress more and more. I was even able to buy a beautiful long blond human hair wig that she hated and I loved. Finally, after I changed girlfriends, she went away and I kept the most important part of the relationship to me which of course was the wig. It brought me to a whole other level of cross-dressing away from Halloween wigs into the real deal. Back in the 1960’s when miniskirts were in, I could not wait until I could find a chance to slide on pantyhose and miniskirt and top it all off with my blond wig. Yes, I did binge any chance that I got!

Sadly, my binge dressing needed to come to a complete halt during my military years in the Army. Instead of worrying about how short I could wear my miniskirts, I had a more immediate and important problem of how to deal with weapons and drill sergeants in Army basic training. How I survived was that I put all my fond memories of cross-dressing in the back of my head and daydreamed about the future I knew I could have shaving my legs again and binge dressing as a woman.

After I served my time in the military, the only immediate release I had from all the tension I felt to be feminine at all was with all the many and varied Halloween parties I went to. During that time, I went from being a French woman with my blond hair, black outfit, tights and beret, all the way to professional woman one year when I was mistaken for a ciswoman just getting off work. The good news was I was learning a lot, and the bad news was Halloween only came about once a year. I needed desperately to find another way to binge with a purpose and express myself as a transgender woman. A term I was beginning to accept as my own.

Once I began to accept who I was, I needed to set out to prove it to myself and the world that I could live my truth. It was then that my binging took a whole different direction from where I was before. Thanks to the basic acceptance I gained from successful Halloween parties, I had the confidence to know I could look the part and blend in with society as another ciswoman. Little did I know then, the hardest part of my male to female femininization project was yet to come.

It took me finally getting out of the gay bars I regularly went to for some sort of validation I never received and into being accepted as a regular in many of the straight venues I went to and enjoyed as a man. My validation as a regular gave me the confidence to keep trying to improve myself as a transgender woman rounding out her life in the world. As I achieved goal after goal I set up on my trans bucket list, I really binged out every chance that I got which put me into a direct collision with my second wife who did not want to live with another woman and my male self who was dead against giving up his life all together.

By all out gender binging, I had set myself up for an internal war I was fortunate to survive. It took me all I could do to keep all my lives together as the years progressed. All I knew was I was able to carve out a dream existence as a transfeminine person. No one knew of my male past, and I loved experiencing every moment of my new life. Deep down, for once I felt I was fighting my self when I was binging as a trans woman and expressing my true self.

By turning back, the clock the best I could, I tried to take the best that I learned from my male life and apply it to building a solid base for my female life. I think it worked because I was able to decide which of my male baggage was important enough to bring along and I benefitted from being blessed with a long life, so I can see a number of important things come full circle (which is another blog post.)

The bottom line is I have always been an impulsive person which helped me all the times I just had to binge to satisfy my needs. Dealing with my gender issues was just an integral part of that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Want...or a Need

JJ Hart Discovering her Needs
I am in the first row on the left.

When a want turns into a need, sometimes you can feel it. Other times, not so much as if it sneaks up on you from behind.

As I began to wear dresses and makeup as a young boy, for the most part, it was because I wanted to do it. Cross-dressing just relieved the pressure of my unwanted everyday male world. It did not take me long to figure out my want was much more than just a casual appreciation of women’s fashion and makeup.  I did not know it then (and the term had not yet been widely used) that I was transgender more than a cross-dresser. I could not feel the change because I did not have the gender knowledge to do it.

Life began to change for me when I started to cross-dress for the thrill of it and attend Halloween parties. The parties ended up teaching me the basics of being a woman in public around people I knew, and I wanted to take it a step further by not having to wait another year to try again to get out of my dark closet and into the world. That is when my story turned out to be dark as I was not met with many positives by the public as a novice trans woman, cross-dresser or whatever you would like to label me as. To too many people, I was simply a man in a dress and clown makeup. I learned the hard way to get back to my drawing board and work harder on my feminine craft to find out if I was ever going to be able to succeed at all at my dream.

I also learned that if I was ever going to find success on my gender path, I was never just going to make it by just thinking it was just a want. It had to become a deep-seated need. I went back and dieted, worked on my skin and did everything I could to improve my testosterone poisoned body. All it really taught me was how much deeper I needed to travel along my gender path to make it at all and I needed to do it very badly. As the pounds melted off, I was able to find more stylish feminine wardrobe items to fill out my fashion needs and dress for success to blend in with the rest of the ciswoman crowd. Who I learned the hard way, were the people who ran the world I was attempting to be a part of. Or I could go casual if I needed to and a more polished business look when I needed to upscale my appearance. Fashion-wise I was learning that looking the best I could and blending in with the public at the same time was a definite need not some sort of a frivolous want just to justify something I wanted.

The more I tested the world as a transfeminine person, the more I needed to do to help myself along in the learning process of just belonging in the world I always should have been a part of to begin with. It was a real chore just to put the mirror image I thought I had perfected into the public and into motion to see how it worked. For the most part, I was improving to the point where I needed to start trying to communicate with the world as a more complete trans woman. As I always point out, the communication challenge to me was immense because I had always been a lazy communicator in my life. By that I mean, I had never really had to listen closely to what another man was telling me. I knew instinctively how to respond to another man but was clueless when it came to woman to woman talk. Which I always had known was different but how different I did not know until I was made aware of it. For example, for the first time ever in my life I needed to really stop and listen to whomever was talking to me. Were they trying to point out danger to me or just being friendly as a ciswoman who was curious of me or a toxic man who just viewed me as some sort of a fetish object.

Quite possibly, the communication aspect of my male to female femininization need passed my desire to be as attractive as I could as a transgender woman in the world. Instead of just wishing and wanting to be accepted as an equal by the other ciswomen I met, I needed to make it a priority. I even swallowed my pride and took female vocal lessons to make the process easier. It was difficult, but I think I gained enough confidence to help with my overall presentation and life.

I was helped too when the pressure to succeed was relieved here and there by the new success I was having in the world carving out a new life which on one hand to be terrifying and on the other feeling so natural like I was coming home to the self I always should have been.

I found I did not discover all my true self until I could step away from me for a minute to look at how far my gender path had taken me. After years of experimenting and trying different things, I finally achieved my need to be allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox and I was not disappointed with what I found there. Even though I had to put up with the occasional hater or TERF who wanted me out, but the majority of women made me feel welcome in their world and that was all that mattered to me.

The sandbox provided me with firm lessons and reassurance in what I was trying to accomplish in life. The want I always felt was always a hidden need which took me years to realize was my true problem in life to solve.

I hope you can realize your true wants and needs on your gender path also and life becomes easier for you if you are searching like I always was.

 

 

 

  

I Could Never Take my Trans Life for Granted

 

Image from Jeffrey Clayton
on UnSplash.

I learned early on in my life to take nothing for granted.

Especially when I was experimenting with my mom’s clothes and makeup. I needed to use every instinct I had to not get caught cross dressing as a girl. Which I tried to do as much as I could, so I had to never take it for granted I would never get discovered and sent off to see a psychiatrist. My paranoia ran deep back then of my parents sending me to a stranger who would tell me I was mentally ill. Which deep down, I knew I wasn’t. I just wanted to be like the girls around me.

My parents, from the “greatest generation” of the WWII and Great Depression years of our country’s history always made sure I took nothing for granted also. If I got B’s on my report card, where were the A’s I should have been getting. Was how I was raised. The only other real aspect of my life they thought they had to worry about was my interest in sports of all kinds. I was never the athlete my brother was so I was left on my own to do what I could athletically in the small rural school I went to. Even when I did manage to make the football team, I couldn't keep my mind on practice when all I wanted to do was be a cheerleader in their fancy short skirts and be admired by all the boys in school. I admired them too, just because of how badly I wanted to be just like them, and I never took it for granted that I couldn’t. It just frustrated me when I never did.

The years went by; in a hurry it seemed and even I was able to improve my feminine femininization to the point where I wanted to get out of the mirror in my closet and try out the world.

It was a good thing that again I should take nothing for granted that I would have no problems when I went out for the first time. Even though the mirror at home told me I made my male testosterone poisoned self into an attractive woman, why was I getting laughed at by mainly teen aged girls in public. I was stubborn though and kept going back to my cross-dressing drawing board to make any attempt possible to improve my appearance. What I finally learned was I needed to quit dressing the way my old male self was telling me to do and start dressing to blend in with the world of ciswomen around me. To do so, I reversed my fashion course from wearing clothes for teen girls when I was in my thirties and start concentrating on doing my thrift shopping to develop a more realistic fashion approach. That helped me overcome my thick male body with big shoulders that I had been cursed with by male puberty.

I had a dreaded inverted T body shape with broad shoulders, no hips and narrow legs to deal with. I took nothing for granted and set out to attack my fashion problems with better fashion choices. Since I was told I had good legs at the Halloween parties I went to, I built up from there while at the same time, keeping my legs not being a total focus to my look. As I built up from my legs and I wore Demin skirts often, I used foam pads under my panty hose which gave me the illusion of having hips. With my size, breasts were always a problem because I always wanted to be proportioned correctly and have the right wiggle to them. But not too big and look like a clown in drag. I struggled to find what I wanted until a cross-dressing friend of mine gifted me a set of silicone breast forms when he purged his extensive collection of cross-dressing materials. Then I could finish hiding my broad shoulders with longer straight hair wigs which fell loosely over my body.

Speaking of my body, you may have noticed I did not mention anything about restrictive shapewear. I always disliked the feel of being restricted in any way other than panty hose and padding, so I took the diet approach to losing my male stomach and did not have to worry so much about all the potential problems which might happen when I used the women’s room, do my business, wash my hands, smile sweetly and move on.

The one major accessory I was still lacking was confidence that I could present effectively as a transfeminine person in a world where ciswomen ran the show. In my mind, I was still the frightened cross-dresser leaving my closet and mirror for the first time and getting laughed at by the public. Out of sheer willpower I kept on taking nothing for granted until my life as a transgender woman became realized and I began to feel better and enjoy myself in the new, exciting feminine world I was in.

My ultimate goal was to someday have my own “padding” or curves thanks to HRT or gender affirming hormones. I was fortunate that in my later years in life when my testosterone was on the decline anyway (at the age of sixty) I received a doctor’s approval to start the hormonal program and all the changes which happened. Over the years, I was able to develop my own breasts, hips and soft skin as I have never taken the hormones for granted because I know not everyone has the health to do it.

I even went through the efforts of getting approved by the Veterans Administration health care system (which I was a member of) to get approved again for my hormones and take nothing for granted. I guess in many ways, the paranoia of the kid looking at himself in a dress in a mirror all those decades ago never left me. Deep down I still fear for those younger than me in the system having to put up with all the extreme transphobia in the world today.

We can never take anything for granted when our basic lives we value so much are at stake. Be safe out there.

 

 

 

The Consequences of Giving Up

 

Image from fast glass fx 
on UnSplash.

When I considered “purging” (getting rid of all my feminine makeup and clothing) the consequences felt like a double-edged sword.

For a few days, the pressure around gender lifted, and I had one less major worry. But before long, the familiar desire to live as a girl returned to my everyday life. I realized that cross-dressing—and perhaps something beyond it—would not be easy for me to give up. Even in that short time, I had learned a great deal and understood how far I still had to go before reaching my dream of living full time as a transgender woman. I was not even sure whether I could make it happen.

Then there were the brief moments of gender euphoria. The time I spent hiding from my brother and family was enough to keep me going until male puberty—and what felt like testosterone poisoning set in. I was unhappy that my body was becoming more angular while the girls around me were developing curves, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Even as those changes continued, I could not face the consequences of giving up. I learned to take what I could get until I was old enough to leave the mirror and closet behind and explore the world. What happened next was brutal. I discovered that the mirror had been lying to me when it suggested I looked like an attractive woman. If that were true, why was I laughed at so often when I tried to go to ordinary places, such as nearby shopping malls? Eventually, my frustration pushed me to look around and notice how most of the cisgender women I saw were dressed. Even if it meant adopting the casual styles I dreaded, I knew I needed to do it to blend in and be accepted.

The more acceptance I gained, the harder it became to return to my old life and face the thought of giving up on my dream. For the first time, I even felt excited about where my future might lead. I just had the glimmer of hope that I might be able to make it to the transfeminine life I always wanted to lead.

At that point, my male life began to creep in with a vengeance. He was becoming very successful with a small family and good job and the risk of giving it all up loomed large over everything I did. Not a day went by when I didn’t consider the consequences of what I was doing. I always say, I wish I could get back just a fraction of the time I wasted worrying about how I would be living my life if I was a woman. What would become of me if I jumped off my gender cliff for good.

What I decided to do was experiment in the world as a trans woman. My second wife called me a “terrible woman” because I had never paid any dues that ciswomen pay, and all I was concerned about was my appearance. I knew deep down she was right but I still at that point did not know how to fix the problem by paying my dues as a novice feminine person in the world. It was like if you are applying for a job, the employer says you don’t have enough experience but will not give you the job so you can get it.  I am sure my wife was right about my feminine knowledge, but I was having an impossible time getting behind the gender curtain to learn more.

As I slowly got behind the gender curtain, the consequences of giving up almost completely went away. Why would I abandon all the effort I put into being a complex transgender woman and throw it all away during a time when I was finally being successful. For a change, I was the one making sense in a gender situation which very few understood.  No longer could I be accused of being a terrible woman as I matured into my new self when I was allowed into women’s only spaces. Sure, I was still making mistakes, but they were getting smaller and smaller as time went on.

The mistakes I usually made came from when I miscalculated how complex a ciswoman’s life really was and how far I needed to go to be allowed to fit in. To eliminate all my mistakes, I needed to give up all the negative consequences of a male to female gender transition and just make the plunge. Fortunately for me, the water was not that cold, and I jumped into the deep end of the gender pool. Plus, I can never forget the soft feminine gender hands which helped me to survive the impact into the water.

I know many of are thinking seriously of making your own gender plunge and what would be the consequences of possibly losing everything you hold dear in the world. I know advice is easy to give, but the turning point for me always was how natural I felt as a transfeminine person. Something kept telling me I was born the way I ended up. And with some effort, I made it to where I always needed (not wanted) to be. Hopefully, that is a starting point for you too and the consequences of giving up become too much to consider.

If you are further along, I am sure you recognize the consequences of never giving up and somedays even being perceived as being selfish. As I was when I was headed all out to fully transition into a transgender woman, all I could think of how fast I could make it to my goal. So, I am guilty as charged. It is probably the reason my second wife called me a terrible woman. In all fairness to me, I did mature out of it and found my way into a better world.

All the purges in the world did not work for me and I put up with all the consequences I lived through. I am not a gambler, but in this instance, I played the odds and won.

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is a New Trans Girl to Do?

 

Image from UnSplash. 

I recently received a comment from “Mira” concerning writing more about what happens when you are a new transgender woman out in the world.

Thanks for the comment, “Mira”, on such a complex subject. The first thing I can think of being so different for me was that everyone was looking at me. As a man, I was used to admiring well dressed and attractive women but got used to the fact that I was nearly invisible to the world as a guy. In essence, other women and men all notice other ciswomen who go out of their way to at least look nice. Which was what I was doing when I went out in the public’s eye to see how well I could present myself as a transfeminine person.

Maybe the most important hurdle I faced at this time on my gender path was looking like I was trying too hard to look like a woman. The initial attempts I tried to make such as wearing too tight and short skirts, produced laughable results when I was laughed at in reality.  On the other hand, you need to take an accurate assessment of your basic strengths and weaknesses and go from there. I know you may think you may have very few strengths when you are trying to dress your testosterone poisoned body, but you may be surprised. Many men are blessed with passable looking feminine legs, which is a place to start building your presentation from. I learned my legs were good from the Halloween parties I went to in my mini dresses. So at least, I had a positive place to start from when I began to go out. Until I began to overdo it and feature my legs over my biggest fashion problem…my broad torso and shoulders. I still wore my denim miniskirts but with large flowing tops which were able to hide my shoulders as I got by.

The difficult part for me was getting any realistic feedback from anyone. The only feedback I received on a regular basis was from my mirror which I found had a habit of lying to me and from my wife who would dismiss me as only being the “pretty, pretty princess.” I did not want to be a princess; I just wanted to present as well as I could in the world as a transgender woman. I understand now what my wife was trying to tell me about being feminine would take more effort than just looking like a ciswoman and I would have a long way to go.

The next big step I took as a novice transgender woman was to not be afraid when someone wanted to know more about me and I don’t mean in a close, personal sense. As most of the many ciswomen I encountered just wanted to sell me something (clothing store clerks) or were just curious about what I was doing in their world. Once they were satisfied, I was not up to no good and I just wanted to be part of the girls’ club, they were happy and went on their way. Except for a few who stuck around and I was able to make friends with. Which came much later in my trans life when I grew more comfortable in my new skin. And speaking of skin, if you are overweight, consider going on a serious diet like I did to slim down and look better in more stylish clothes.

When you are new to all of this, it is easy to feel selfish when you are obsessed with how you look and act as you try to determine if you truly belong in the new world you are exploring. All of that is a natural reaction to letting go of the male world (or female world for you trans men) that you had to work so hard to survive in. Often against your will. Plus, learning all the nuances of a new gender is not and never will be easy. Especially if you transition later in life such as I did. The reality of the situation is that you have accumulated much more gender baggage to deal with over the years, and you must start deciding early on what you are going to do with it.

Backtracking a bit, what I remember the most about my early years as a transfeminine person was the panic I felt when I entered the world for the first time. Mainly because I had lost all the defense mechanisms I learned as a man. I could no longer rely on my size in a potential problem situation or my intelligence to win a discussion. My best offense in the new world I wanted to be in was to plan ahead and do what ciswomen do, not get into the situation to begin with. As far as intelligence goes, just plan on losing yours if and when you encounter a serious discussion with a man.

As you walk up your gender path as a new trans woman, validation as a person becomes a valued piece of your new personality. In my case, I was never attractive or interested in men enough for them to be in my world, so my validation had to come where it had always come from in my life, from other women. When I see many of the transgender women bemoaning the fact they don’t have a man, I always say, don’t overlook having a woman love and validate you. Always leave your future options open because anything can change in your life when you are trying to cross the gender border.

Finally, “Mira”, try to develop a thick skin and learn from your possible presentation mistakes when you begin to go out. Especially today with many areas of society being so volatile when it comes to trans women and trans men. When you are a quick gender learner, your life can come together faster than you ever thought. Be prepared, it could be an interesting one. Stay safe and thanks again for the comment and I hope that I have answered most of your question.

 

 

 

 

Living the Dream before it Consumed Me

 

JJ Hart

As I crossed the six-decades portion of my life and spent at least five decades of it trying to stay under control by cross-dressing, I was trapped and had nowhere else to go.

It happened because I had embarked on such a complete path of looking like and moving like a ciswoman and my gender bucket list was shrinking due to too much use. All the trips to malls, antique stores, and thrift stores just became boring when I was passing through them with no problems. Even though I was bored, the idea of being successful as a transfeminine person still consumed me. And, to make matters worse, I was finding less challenges to undertake as I increasingly painted myself into a gender corner I had always dreamed about but never thought I could reach.

I always made excuses such as I was never going to be good looking enough to present well in the new world I was seeking when truthfully my overall confidence as a trans woman had more to do with my approval than my appearance ever did once I had went beyond the basic point I needed to be to blend in with the ciswomen around me. Life changed when I realized there were plenty of women in the world who dealt with being bigger in stature and even had broad shoulders such as I had. My realizations helped to give me the boost I needed to continue to let my so called “hobby” consume me.

The reason was that I was ignoring the fact that cross-dressing was much more than a hobby, it was becoming a lifestyle. The biggest problem was that nothing I did as a novice trans woman was ever good enough. Even my second wife did not like the person I was becoming when I took the time and effort to show off to her as I thought were my best feminine efforts. Even though I desperately was seeking her approval, it was becoming obvious to me that my inner feminine self and my wife were lining up to fight it out. I was left behind to pick up the pieces as I was realizing how consumed I was when I had one of my rare, sanctioned (by my wife) outings at Halloween in NYC when my wife decided she did not want to go with me. The night turned out to be a dream evening as I ended up going out with four other women dressed to thrill as I was and they all happened to be as tall as I was in our heels. The night even ended on a high note when I was asked to dance by a guy in the venue we went to. I turned him down because he had no idea that I had one basic difference from the other woman I came with.

Anytime I experienced such a wonderful evening such as that Halloween party, I wondered if the gender euphoria I felt was worth it when I came crashing down. I was consumed with the moment and wanted to re-live it time and time again, but I was tucked away in my male work world and could not get out. Looking back, I don’t see now how I survived the balancing act I was putting myself through. I needed to physically show up as the man I never wanted to be. While at the same time spend all my mental energy remembering the transgender woman, I was. If I could have cried during that time in my life, I am sure I would have cried myself to sleep many nights worrying about my gender dysphoria and how it always threatened to wreck my life. Even to the point of almost destroying my marriage to the woman I loved deeply when my frustrations would boil over into yet another fight about me. Some of the fights were so severe that my second wife told me I was not man enough to be a woman, or why didn’t I just go away and fix the problem and make both of us happier.

Perhaps, by this time, you are wondering too why I did not take her advice and do it. The main reason was, at that time, I was not ready to give up totally on the life we had together when I was a man and even though I was increasingly being consumed by the idea I could be the trans woman I always dreamed of, I was not ready to pull the cord and jump out of the plane just yet. Because I was still afraid of the new gender heights I was reaching and selfish enough to think my wife may still come around to accept me. For those of you who don’t know, she never did and died tragically of a massive heart attack at the age of fifty.

The whole experience sent me into a major negative tailspin which I had a difficult time emerging from. I think the only reason that I did was because I had let my feminine self-consume me, and she could not wait for the opportunity to take over and live. My life had come full circle, and all the time and effort I put into my male to female femininization came back to help me. I had already put the work into how I wanted to look with my make-up and fashion basics and was already out into the world actually discovering how it would be to carve out a new transfeminine life for my very own. I had gotten what I needed as I moved ahead towards beginning HRT or gender affirming hormones. Which were something I always wanted to try as part of my overall commitment to being as close as possible to being who I always was destined to be.

When life consumed me, I was always somehow able to accept it and even thrive with it. Even though it took me decades to do it with all the ups and downs of what I had to go through. At the least, it made life interesting.

 

Visiting the Vampires

 

Image from Mike Lloyd
on UnSplash.

Today was a rushed visit to the Cincinnati Veterans Hospital for bloodwork before they shut down for a week to switch over to a new digital system that we all know will cause new headaches.

Most all my bloodwork can be done at an off-site closer clinic to my house which does not require a trip downtown into a very congested area. Plus, with my mobility issues, it makes the entire process of going downtown for specialized work very unpopular with me and my wife Liz who must do all the driving.

The specialized test I needed to get done before the shutdown June fourth was for my Estradiol blood levels. For some reason, my levels had dropped nearly fifty points from a level they had been at for literally years. For that reason, my endocrinologist requested another test of my HRT levels. When this level comes back, if it stays low, it will be interesting to see what ideas she has, such as maybe doing away with the patch system and switching to injections which for no real reason, I have always stayed away from.  I am not afraid of needles; I am just lazy about the possibility of giving myself injections. One way or another, I will have to jump off that bridge when I come to it. I think my hormonal levels have jumped back up because of an overall increase in the fullness of my breasts, so I may be jumping to conclusions I did not have to.

Past that, we were able to beat the rush this morning at the VA because the vampires (blood lab people) open up at six thirty and we were able to get an early start and be there before seven. For the appointment, I chose a three-quarter sleeve feminine lace trimmed blouse, leggings and flats. Along with a light application of makeup which seemed to work because I was not misgendered at all and was actually smiled at by several men who passed me by on the way to the second-floor labs. I will take that as a win everyday since I have had mixed results over the years at that hospital. Usually, the smaller clinic I go to is better because they know and remember me, but they just could not do the specialized Estradiol test because they needed to send it out for testing.

Now I play the waiting game (which if you were in the military, you know what I am talking about) before I can get the results back. I doubt if it will be very soon because of the overall system disruptions which are coming up.

This is a short post today because it is my transgender grandchild’s birthday today who is working up in Maine and I have to send them birthday wishes plus a small gift. Happy Birthday “A.”

 

  

The Original Witches Ball as an Up-and-Coming Trans Woman

 

JJ Hart.

Back in the day, the Cincinnati area used to host what was called the “Original” Witches Ball around the Halloween season of course. It was called “The Original” because several copycat dances had sprung up attempting to copy the success of the first one.  Of significance to me was the ball that year was actually the third date my wife Liz and I had been on. Our first two dates had been to a drag show and a Renaissance festival, so another themed date would fit right in until we got to know each other better.

Perhaps the highlight of the witches’ ball was the venue itself. It was in a huge vintage Victorian house which had been expanded in the past to include an auditorium with a balcony and stage. For the evening, I thought I would go all the way in black with a hand-picked outfit guaranteed to be fun and just a little on the sleezy side. I went with a short black sleeveless minidress with black panty hose, a sequined net shawl and black heels. Since I was not quite to the point where I could style my own hair and wear it, I decided to wear a long curly black wig I had purchased a long time ago. For the party, we were even able to reserve a nearby hotel room so we could get ready and spend the night without having to worry about driving since it was within walking distance.

As I was to discover later in the evening, the only mistake I made in my outfit was the high-heeled shoes I chose to wear. As the night wore on, so did the strain the shoes put on my feet. Fortunately, I was able to kick them off at key places in the venue which had carpeted floors. I guess you could say I paid the price for fashion the night of the witch’s ball. Other than that setback, I had a wonderful time with Liz enjoying the entertainment on the main stage. The costume contest (which I did not enter) and all the exotic belly dancers who performed during the evening in another part of the venue.

All too soon the party was over, and my head was still spinning over all the wonderful costumes I saw, all the vendors with their merchandise and even getting an introduction to the “Captain Jack Sparrow” impersonator who complimented me on my “costume.”

I was hoping the alcohol I consumed would dull the pain in my feet for the walk back to the hotel in my heels, but it didn’t and off came the heels and on came the sidewalk in my panty hose for the short walk back. For all the fun I had, the brief pain was worth it. Little did I know at that time, I would be able to return to the witches’ ball in the future in a much bigger role as a behind the scenes organizer. And Liz and I would be able to cement our relationship with other entertaining dates.

It turned out that the witches’ circle Liz was already part of when I met her wanted to try to take on the huge task of organizing and putting on another annual ball. The first thing they needed to do was negotiate a rate for the same venue, which was crucial for the success of the event. Since I enjoyed being part of the group putting together another ball, I was given the opportunity to set up a vendor’s table to sell cookbooks and other crafts the group had put together. The fact was not lost on me that I had transitioned with all of them from a transgender woman to just another integral part of the group. Or circle that it was referred to.

 We only managed another couple of balls in the original venue it had was so uniquely designed for. Old and spooky to start with, it was simply ideal for what we wanted it for but the newer future places just did not come up to its standards of uniqueness, and the attendance began to decline. I did add an image showing what I did wear to the last of the old-style Cincinnati Witches Balls. I chose my black silk pants with a red sequined sleeveless top with my own hair this time around topped off with an oversized black hat you can’t see in the picture. Furthermore, I learned my shoe lessons this time around and wore a pair of sensible flats. The only positive I got from researching where we could have our next event was being invited to visit possible venues. Many of which were in Cincinnati brew pubs which meant I could sample some good beer.

These days, the Witches’ Ball event still hangs on in a vastly smaller form as it is held now only in a local bar. I, however, will always remember what the event meant to me. I was able to express myself for the last time in a hyper-Halloween atmosphere where I attempted to dress as a sexy woman and this time with a date who would become my wife later in life. From then on, I transitioned male to female into a world I had only dreamed of and any work I did on the ball was from my new viewpoint. Not to mention, I really appreciated the lack of special attention I received just because I was a trans woman in a group made up primarily of ciswomen and a few men.

I would have never thought just going to such a special venue for an outstanding event would lead to such far-reaching circumstances for me. It proved once again how life can be a strange but wonderful set up of possibilities which are there for you if you can ever set out to achieve them. For many of us that is the problem which hurts us in life. If it is something you can’t overcome.

Thanks for reading along and adding your comments. It makes it all so worthwhile for me!

 

 

When Every day is Day One

 

JJ Hart

We all know how difficult being a transgender woman or transgender man can be. For years, it seems as if you are starting on day one when you are trying to catch up with ciswomen who have lived a feminine existence their entire life.

For me, my journey started when on certain mornings when I did not know if I was going to be a boy (physically) or a girl (mentally) that day. My thoughts often came from vivid dreams I had from the night before that I was living a life as a pretty girl. I just couldn't shake the idea that something was wrong in my life, and I couldn't do much about it except occasionally cross dress in front of the mirror in mom’s clothes and makeup. When I did, early on I needed a lot of help with my makeup and everyday when I tried something new on my face, I was starting all over again. Plus, it did not help that most every time I cross-dressed, it was an adventure in not getting caught. Between my parents and my slightly younger brother, earning my private time to be on my own and be a girl was difficult.

It took me years to shake the idea that every day as a transwoman was still day one in my life. Mainly because, I was still learning so much from all the ciswomen I was around in my new world. I had plenty of stop signs on my gender path I needed to negotiate as I made my way towards my dream of living full-time as a transfeminine person. Some of the stop signs were busy four way stops when I really needed to stop, look both ways, and make the difficult decision to proceed. Looking back now, I don’t know how I managed not to have any major collisions with anyone but my second wife who unfortunately had a front row seat in my transition from just cross-dressing on a part-time basis all the way to considering HRT or gender affirming hormones as a transgender woman.

What kept me going was my deep-seated knowledge that what I was doing was right. All the cross-dressing I was doing was just practice towards a bigger, brighter future as a trans woman. Looking at it that way was certainly difficult, but it was all I could cling to if I was to keep my fragile mental health intact. As my wife told me when we were fighting about my gender that I made a terrible woman. So, I needed to find out what she meant because she added that she was not talking about appearance which I thought I was doing better with.

I set out at that time to re-dedicate myself to understanding a woman’s life. I was naïve at the time and thought I could learn more while I was still presenting as a man fulltime. Years later, when I had crossed the gender border publicly as a trans woman, I finally was invited back behind the gender curtain so I could learn a lot and not be a terrible woman. For most of you who do not know, my wife unexpectedly passed away from a massive heart attack after twenty-five years of marriage to me and she never was able to see the better woman I had become. Mainly because my time behind the curtain enabled me to start all over again and mold the new woman, I wanted to be. Including most of all the nuances and the layers a female must live through before she becomes a woman. My inner female was forced to stay back and be dormant for all those decades before she could claim her ultimate gender prize also. She just had to take a vastly different path to get there.

At that point in my life, everyday was day one again when I donated all my male clothes and vowed to never look back again at my male life. Which I ultimately found impossible to do. Male influences built me into the person I had become as a transgender woman and made me stronger in the process. I even brought experiences from the most male dominated part of my life to my gender table as I remembered the days I went through in Army basic training. There was no need to throw away valuable experience I could use in my new life.

It turned out to be the most exciting time of my life when I could finally live my truth in the world. And I was able to forget the dark days of my youth when I began to deeply question what gender I was. Having all the help I did to finally begin to fill out my gender workbook helped me too, even though I was rejected on occasion and needed to start all over again. I urge all of you who are considering a journey in life the way I did, is to be resilient and expect many ups and downs along the way. Most are just learning experiences anyway and can be valuable as you are allowed to play in the girls’ (or boys for you trans guys) sandbox. It takes time and experience for your confidence to grow as you navigate one of the most difficult paths a human being can take.

Slowly but surely, every day will not feel like day one as you get used to living a full-time life you have always dreamed of in a gender world you want to be a part of. For me, it was like taking a great deep breath of fresh air when I was finally checked out and was able to begin the long-awaited HRT which would transform my body outwardly and more intensely, inwardly. My entire being was telling me what took me so long when the male to female feminizing hormones hit my system. But I did not need the hormones to tell me who I was, they were like the icing on my transgender cake and made every day a better day.

 

 

Success is no Accident in the Trans World

 

Image from Priscilla du Preeze
on UnSplash. 

Success is definitely no accident in the world of transgender women and transgender men. Very few of us survive our puberty by having no natural characteristics of our authentic selves that we want to be.  I know I wanted nothing to do with the size and angles my male body was willing me to have without my permission.

It was not until I became very serious about my male to female femininization project did, I take the necessary steps I needed to take to begin to ensure my future successes were no accident. The first step I took was to try to make myself smaller for I could fit into more stylish feminine clothes. Naturally, all I could do to make me smaller was to go on a diet. I was successful in a short period of time because I had a very active job and my high male metabolism was still working well. I ended up losing nearly fifty pounds quickly and had the fun job of going back to the thrift stores and searching for new clothes in my size and trying them on.

The next step I took to improve my work to become more feminine to the public was to take better care of my skin. Every day I was careful to moisturize my face after I shaved to make it easier for me to use less makeup because I knew less was more when it came to using makeup. It was a start but was all I could do without the public and my wife beginning to notice a major change in me. Even so, I was proud of the beginning steps I was taking towards my overall femininization.

It proved to me that over the long haul, none of this path I was on would be easy to navigate as I sought to cross the gender border. Also, what I did not know was how much more difficult my life would be because just looking like a ciswoman would not be the end result of the process. It would just be the beginning when I left the mirror and challenged the world as a novice cross-dresser or transgender woman. I never realized the depth and scope of the world women use to run their lives. With or without the help of men.

By accepting the challenge of femineity I was seeking, I was also challenged to move like a woman and more importantly communicate as a woman because I discovered quickly how many other women wondered what I was doing in their world. From the ease of dealing with clothing stores clerks to having conversations with women at restaurant/bars I was at, I found I was dealing with much more interaction than I ever had as a man. My new success was no accident, but I needed to work hard to keep it and always stay aware of my new surroundings. One slip up and the setback could be tremendous and discouraging to my dream goal of being able to live full-time as a transfeminine person.

Many times, my frustration grew over the decades that I struggled with my gender issues. Was I going too fast by going out into the world, or not enough to keep learning what I needed to know to progress along my gender path which kept showing me infuriating stop signs along the way. Particularly from my male self who was becoming very successful in his business world. He was making it difficult to choose between his growing male privileges and living the life I had always dreamed of. Ironically, it was lessons he learned at work which were carried over to my female life that proved that success was no accident. If I wanted my goal bad enough, I could achieve it.

As I progressed with carving out my new feminine life as a trans woman, I found that my successes were painting me into corners which were difficult to get out of. I had nights when butch lesbians were flirting with me and buying me drinks until I ran out of time and had to be back home before my wife was take my makeup off then calmly try to wind down by watching television. I was on the gender rollercoaster going from one high to another and eventually it was too much to take.

Before I broke for the final time and had to make a decision between staying with my wife as a man and deciding to live my life as a woman, she took my decision away and suddenly passed away. Leaving me all alone with my other woman who happened to be me. It took a while for the shock to wear off, but when it did, my internal female took right over and claimed her territory in my life. She thought success was no accident and she had claimed hers by paying for those dues all those decades when she was hidden for the most part. In the light of day, she flourished and never looked back. Especially when HRT or gender affirming hormones were introduced into her old male system.

The ultimate measure of success is coming around and transitioning ourselves from transgender into just being ourselves. Many of us have to go through extensive gender realignment surgeries to do it, and some not but that is OK. Whatever makes you whole as a person is the final key to the lock or piece to the puzzle. I am sure that whatever the case, everyone who succeeded in finding themselves would agree that success was no accident. They had to work hard to achieve it.

If you are on your path, just keep up the hard work you are doing, and you can find success also. Pursuing such a complex journey will never be easy but as the saying goes, if it was easy, would it be worth it.

Thanks to all of you who read along with my posts! All your thoughts, comments, claps and subscriptions are always welcomed.