To Be or Not to Be

Don't worry, this post won't be influenced by Shakespeare and you are not back in high school literature class. In this case, the popular phrase involves coming out as stealth.

Wait? Can you come out as stealth? Isn't that a "Catch 22?" It is but it isn't.

When and if you are in the position to live "stealth" as a transgender woman, should you do it? Remember "back in the day" stealth was the only way to go once you had gone through genital realignment surgery. You were expected to move away and start your life all over again. In many ways, the whole process ignored the basic premise that sex is between the legs and gender is between the ears. I am a prime example. While it is true I have been living full time as a woman for years now, I have no desire to have any invasive surgery.

Now I find myself again  at the crossroads of going stealth...or not. It would actually be a fairly easy decision. The cross dresser - transgender support group I am loosely involved with is increasingly imploding. As a result of a high drama split up, we now have two similar but separate groups. The most recent example of the in fighting was the Thursday night social Liz and I went to. Before the split up we could expect approximately twelve to fifteen diverse individuals. Since the other group decided to have a social the same night, they had ten attendees while we had seven.

So now I am encountering the same small group of people I actually have very little in common with. The only reason I started going was because of the chance to meet new and interesting people. Thursday night the most interesting person I met was a cis woman who was entranced with me enough to smile and say hello. Any number of factors could have been in play. Probably she knew I was trans and her and her feminine friend approved. Or they could have been lesbians too and saw Liz and I holding hands. Then again, maybe she was just laughing at me. Which didn't seem to be the case.

The main force behind me not just saying to hell with it all, is my underlying desire to help anyone who needs it who may find themselves on the same path as me. Plus now I need to see how my upcoming meeting concerning LGBTQ aging issues goes.

If the past is any indication, I probably will continue to not to be...stealth.

What Came First...the Wig or the Name?

Recently, I wrote a post here in Cyrsti's Condo about my early cross dressing days when I would on occasion change my name to match (in my noggin) the spirit of the wig I was wearing. For example, I had exactly the wrong wig choice for me when I bought this big curly platinum blond wig. When the mirror lied to me and I wore it, I would change my name to "Roxie." I had so many other names back then I forget most of them. Most importantly though, I was successfully and needlessly confusing anyone I met when I foolishly tried to change my persona. After all, how many cross dressers were they meeting? I certainly wasn't accomplished enough yet to present feminine consistently.

I managed to confuse Connie and a few of you when I wrote this post. Here is her (Connie's) comment and her own story:

"LOL Forgive me, but I'm laughing at your mistakes, too. Naming yourself according to the wig you were wearing! I think that the name of the first wig I got by mail order was "Sultry." I may have felt a little sultry in it, but I was far from being that way, I believe now. :-) I learned, pretty fast, that gay bars were not necessarily the friendliest places for a trans woman.

Then, again, I also learned that they could be too friendly, when I was hit on by a very large drag queen one night. I was with two cross dressers, who did nothing but laugh at me, as the drag queen moved in on me with a vengeance. It was all I could do to resist the unwanted attempts of molestation and grinding against my hip as I sat on the stool. This is not one of the occasions for which I can look back and laugh, but it was definitely one from which I learned some things - about myself, as well as others. My first solo trip out was about six weeks after I had ventured out of the house to attend a cross dresser meeting for the first time. It was a trip to a grocery store across town to do the shopping for Thanksgiving dinner. 

I've always done the grocery shopping in our house, so there was some level of comfort in doing something that was routine to me. While sorting through the pile of frozen turkeys, a woman asked me how big of a bird I thought she would need for her large family. From there, after a rather long chat, I ended up writing out my cornbread stuffing recipe for her. Later, when I requested some cheese at the deli counter, the woman there responded with: Oh, that voice! Your voice is so...so...sultry...I love it! No, I was not wearing my Sultry wig, but I do think I was making a rather cheesy attempt at feminizing my voice. :-)"

You should have not resisted the drag queen! She may have changed your outlook on life! :)

What Was I Thinking/

I still can't get enough of the decade just past. The more I think of it, the more I remember doing crazy things. A few I remember vividly.

When I first started seriously down the feminine road, very early I decided I really didn't like the gay bars I was going into. It was about that time I discovered two small lesbian bars I began to frequent. One of which was the equivalent of a dyke biker bar. To say the least, they hated me there. The other was a different story and was the venue where I was strongly encouraged to sing karaoke by a super butch lesbian in a cowboy hat. I was also told one night by another lesbian I was pretty cute and maybe I should go home with her.  The major problem was I had a spouse to go home to!

Them again, there was the one evening I will always regret not being able to experience. That night  a group of stripper were supposed to entertain at the bar one night. Unfortunately, my wife was due home and I had to get back and change back into my male self.

Along the way, a few guys (including one trans guy) did enter my life. It was quite the adjustment and one it turns out I didn't have to accept. Every time I turned around, it seemed my life pushed me towards lesbians.  One of the highlights was acting as a "wing person" for one of my lesbian friends.

About this time too, as I have written about before, is when I met Liz. I was coming out of an intensely sad period of my life. I had just lost my wife of twenty five years and three out of five of my closest male friends to heart disease and cancer. I met Liz on an on-line dating site eight years ago and we have been together ever since.

Here is a New Years Eve picture:

The final point I need to make was, how difficult the decade really was. As with anything else in life you remember the upside and have a tendency to downplay the downside. Like the time I went to a downtown urban summer festival one night in Dayton and another time I went to a Christmas festival in my favorite boots, leggings and sweater. I remember the excitement and satisfaction of living the feminine experience but not the loneliness of doing it alone.

The only words of wisdom I can offer are, no matter how lonely and lost you are, if you don't keep putting yourself out there, nothing will change!

   

It Takes Time

I went to a very sparsely attended cross dresser - transgender support group meeting recently. Due to the holidays, only eight attended. Out of the eight though, I was amazed at the diversity represented under the trans umbrella.

We had one person who attended who is is only three weeks away from going under the knife for genital realignment surgery on one end of the spectrum, all the way to a gender fluid person who still is exploring which way she wants to lead her life. I used the feminine pronouns because she did when I saw her.

Then there was one of the board members who is slowly coming out to her family accompanied by another who described herself as a stay at home house wife, who brought Christmas cookies. Of course there was me. I live full time as a woman but have no desire to have any surgery done in my future.

Finally, there were two first time attendees. One of which is moving to Cincinnati from the Phoenix area and the other who I can only describe as a grumpy old man. Along the way he tried to pull the age card which didn't work with me. It turns out we were the same age and he was another Viet Nam war era vet. I wondered just why the hell he was there until he said he was looking for a surgeon to do GRS on him. Chances might be dim though since he just went through open heart surgery.

I wondered how much time he has spent living in the feminine world. You may remember you used to have to prove you had lived as a woman for two years before surgery would be considered. I don't see the need for that but then again I would think a person would want to try a gender "test drive" before going to the extreme of changing the equipment.

Not long ago I wrote a post discussing my own progression from cross dresser to transgender woman and Paula commented:

"There is so much difference between dressing up glam to go out and have fun and living a regular every day life. I will admit to missing some of the thrill of going out cross dressed. Sure there was an element of fear in that excitement, but was so much fun.

I thought I would never be free of the compulsion that drove me to cross dress, but it is nearly six years since I last cross dressed, I can in all honesty say that since I first "went full time" I have felt no inclination to furtively buy a pair of brogues dress up in masculine clothes and sneak out hoping the neighbors won't see me." 

I agree with you Paula. I believe when you go "full time" you really join the cis women of the world. An example would be my partner Liz, who is a cis woman. She works at home and spends most of her time in jeans and sweaters as I do. On the other hand it is great fun to get dressed up for a holiday party. The party was a reminder too of my long ago cross dressing days when get dressed up was mandatory.

Learning life as a trans woman just takes time!

Maybe I am Getting Better?

It all started with the compliment I didn't know what to do with from my ex wife on Thanksgiving. It continued with Connie thanking me for the compliment I gave her after the picture she sent in. And, I was complimented on my hair today by my therapist.

I am guessing but I think my inability to respond to compliments or give them goes back to my parents. Growing up, I can not remember a time when I received a compliment which wasn't tied to a qualifier. In other words, you (me) did good, but...

I think also, I have a difficult time with feminine based compliments because I think the "qualifier" is still there. An example would be looking good as a woman for a transgender person or a man.

Truthfully though, I am on cloud nine (where ever that is) following all the compliments I have received on my hair. The qualifier this time is being fortunate enough to still have a full head of hair to not have to deal with wigs anymore. Unlike Connie, who looks great, I was usually hit or miss in the wig department. Mostly miss from quite a few fashion mistakes. I have always believed I was really able to navigate the feminine world as a transgender person after I began to grow my own hair.

Plus, I feel as if I am being repaid hair karma from my time in the 70's when I was in the Army and had to have short hair when everyone else I knew had longish hair. Of course I also completely envied the hippie girls with all of their long hair.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have complimented more women on their hair. I have come to the understanding now why so many women rely on their hairdressers for an occasional boost. Figuratively and literally, it makes us feel better about ourselves.

The bad news is now I will have to find a new stylist to do my hair. My current one had to retire due to carpal tunnel hand problems.

I will miss the pampering I received every two months when I went to the salon and all those pesky compliments which came my way.

Life is nothing without change though and finding a new stylist will be exciting in it's own way.

New life based challenges are good too when you are 70 as I am. There is still plenty of time to get better. I hope!

Ex Wives

One of the very few times of the year when I have to deal with people who knew the old me, is when my daughter has get togethers for the family.

Over the years, I have two ex wives (one is deceased) one ex fiance, long gone since before I joined the Army and a partner (Liz) who I have been around for over eight years now. One thing I need to say is all of the women I mentioned knew in some way of my gender struggles. However, only one...Liz has been able to nurture my transgender nature.

My surviving wife remains a solid acquaintance and she is the mother of my only daughter. So, I normally see her a couple times a year during one of my daughter's meet ups.

I did see her a couple days ago on Thanksgiving. As we were getting ready to leave, she turned to me and said how good I looked. I was stunned and (even I) was temporarily without words. Finally I recovered and deflected the compliment to my VA health care for some unknown reason.

I can only imagine what she really thought since she has been around me since the mid 1970's and quite a few years of my earliest cross dressing adventures. After all, she witnessed more than her share of my earliest mistakes as a feminine person.

Hopefully, one of these days I can figure out how to properly thank her for the compliment.

Having Fun?

Way back in the day when I first began to live a little in the public's eye as a woman, I thought it was all "kicks and giggles." After all, what could ever be so bad about getting dressed up and going shopping or eventually even out to eat.

As I slowly advanced my cross dressing bucket list, I started to consider doing things which weren't so appealing. Since that time, I have done many different activities which revolved around very male domains. Over the years I have been stared at in auto parts stores and even visited a self serve auto junk yard once.

Today I get to go and get the oil changed in the car which I am not really looking forward to.

Sometimes though, I look at it all as a rite of passage into the feminine world as a transgender woman. As much as going through a mammogram.

On the positive side, watching some guy change the oil in the car is a lot less painful than having a big machine squeeze your breasts.

Trans of a Certain Age

If you have been following the three part series about my life lived mostly in the gender closet, perhaps you saw a glimpse of your life too.

Connie did, and here is her comment. *Please note we share several similar experiences because of our age.

"For those of us trans women of a certain age, there was no way to know anything, other than some confused notion that being a boy for us seemed to be different than it was for the other boys. Whatever might have been drawing us toward being the other gender (there were only two back then, you know), did not seem to be enough for us to be like the girls, either. Not only was the knowledge and language yet to be formulated by the professionals, let alone society in general, our young minds had no means with which to express ourselves, either.

I must have been about three when I felt the need to express my feminine side. While my mother was busy doing something in the living room, I went into her bedroom and climbed onto the bench in front of her Art Deco vanity. The low counter top and mirror were easily accessible for even a child of my size, and, after clipping on a pair of shiny earrings and applying a not-inside-the-lines coat of lipstick, I remember admiring myself in the mirror. I was so happy with myself that I just had to share it with my mom. I can still taste the soap and feel the harshness of the washcloth on my face as she admonished me for doing something boys just are not to do.

Knowing there is something different about oneself certainly is not a choice. Being ashamed of being different could be a choice, but, like with many things in childhood, the choice is often made by adults who place it upon the child. For decades thereafter, any conscious effort I made to express my feminine-self was a choice to do the wrong thing - or so I was made to think of it. It was also a choice I made to suppress my feminine-self for many years, and another choice to finally"give in" to it again. It wasn't until I had the revelation that my choices were all about what I was doing, and not who I was, that I found a peace within myself. I then made one more choice, that being to transition, because I really had no choice at that point.

I now turn around that question of when I knew, when asked by a cis person. Their answer is always that they always did, or that they never even had to think about it. Then I tell them that I was always who I was, as well, but I was so painfully aware and have had to think about it almost every day of my life. I'm still waiting for that day when I don't think about my gender identity, but it's so much easier to think about it, even dismiss it most times when I do, because I made that choice to accept myself as the woman I was born to be (and to live it, as well)."

Thanks Connie for yet another thoughtful heart-felt comment!

It's Not a Choice!

One of the most frequent questions I used to get when I met a stranger was, when did I know I was transgender.

After many years of fumbling around with the answer, the most correct one finally came to me...I have always been this way.

Now, having said that, certainly there were milestones in my life I could look back on which confirmed my gender dysphoria. 

As a youth, for some reason I never gave much thought to why I wanted dolls for Christmas instead of BB guns. I also didn't really know why my attraction to girls in school seemed to be different than most of the other boys.

I don't remember acting on any of my cross dressing or girlish desires until I was ten or twelve. In fact, I had a paper route which I used the money from to primarily buy feminine clothes and makeup. When I did, I could stay out of my Mom's wardrobe and makeup. All I had to do was find a good way to hide my stash.

As I grew more accomplished during my high school years, I was also able to keep the bullies away by playing sports, working on cars and dating the occasional girl. All of which just seemed to widen my internal gender gap.

Very soon out of high school (in college) it looked as if the Vietnam War would make a major influence in my life. As it turned out I was drafted out of college and had to face the problem of not being able to do anything about my gender issues for three years. For you purists, I enlisted for three years to be able to better choose my Army job.  As it turned out a good choice when I landed a job in the American Forces Radio and Television Service.

Why was that important you ask? Because my job landed me in one of the least military areas in the Army. Thanks to that and a Halloween party in Germany, I was able to dress as a woman and eventually come out as a transvestite for the first time to my friends and future wife.

For awhile I thought I had won the lottery as some of my gender pressure was dialed back. As it turned out though, the true struggles were just beginning.

I will get into those in the next post as well as explaining how fighting my gender dysphoria nearly killed me.

It took me years to learn it was never a choice.

It's All in a Name

Connie brought up an interesting point about responding, or not, to one's old "dead name."

"Your slight digression made me want to know more. At that time, you had two names. Today, you have a different one. How, then, do you respond, should someone call you by any one of them? I imagine that you would react differently, depending on which one was used. My dead name has become almost incognizant to me after adopting my new name many years ago.

If I hear someone in a crowded place say, "Connie," I will likely turn my head in recognition these days, but I no longer do that when my dead name is heard. Well, not until just a couple weeks ago, anyway. I was grocery shopping, and I heard a woman say, in a stern voice, "(Dead name), stop doing that!" I turned around to see a small boy holding a can of something from the bottom shelf, and Mom was standing right over him with a waving finger. It doesn't take a psychologist to tell me why I reacted to the sound of an irritated mother shouting (Dead name), but I can only laugh now about such a thing. 

Among many other things I did, as a kid, that would irritate my mother was my natural walk; placing most of my weight on the balls of my feet, rather than using a firm step on my heels. I did learn to affect a more-masculine walk, but my mother would always let me know when I had "regressed" to my natural one. Later, as an adult, I started shaping my eyebrows as much as I thought I could get away with, and every time mother saw me, she would say the same thing she said to me regarding my walk: (Dead name), stop doing that! Hmm, maybe I have Cowboy Nightmares and Cowgirl Dreams. :-)"

Sometimes I think I more than burnt out the name situation. Like so many other cross dressers and early transgender women, I chose the name of the cis women of the period I was in whom I admired the most. For example, my earliest feminine name was Karen. Because I used to sit close to a cis girl named Karen in middle school. Back in those days, I didn't understand why my crushes weren't really sexual ones but more out of admiration. I wanted so bad to be them.

Over the years, I have been a Darcy, a Roxy a Cyrsti (of course) and finally a Jessie which is my legal name now. Ironically, Cyrsti's Condo was so established by the time I chose my legal name, I decided to leave it alone. Jessie is actually a family name. 

As far as responding to my dead (male) name, I still catch myself turning around on the very rare occasions I hear it. I am more likely to fight responding when someone uses the "Sir" word when a stranger is using it with another person. Fortunately. more times than not they are directly not referring to me anyhow. 

Now on to my Mom:

My mother and I were much alike and thus never agreed on anything.  I was so focused on living a lie as a guy, I don't think walking was ever an issue. On the other hand, I con't imagine she never noticed my forays into her clothes and makeup. Either I covered it up better than I thought, or she ignored my cross dressing urges thinking it was a faze. 

When I came out to her when I was discharged from the Army as a transvestite, she offered to send me to electrode shock therapy. I told her she wasn't going to plug me into a wall socket and the subject was never brought up again. 

I guess I got the final revenge because I chose her name as my middle name.

Looking back on it now, I hope she would have considered it a honor of sorts. You see, it's all in a name.

Changing of the Season

Well, as expected, the weather around here in Southwestern Ohio is making a dramatic turn from fall to winter. 

Fall has always been my favorite season of the year and I am always sad to see it go. Why? Primarily I have always liked the fashions and maybe on a separate level, football has always been my favorite sport. Long ago I decided just becoming a woman should not stop me from enjoying part of my male life I so loved.  Also, fall has always meant a time of deep change to me. Somehow I always have equated fall with my gender transformation.  

Perhaps it had to do with Halloween's effects on the season too.  Long suppressed gender feelings of being a girl were reawakened.  Plus, the successes of going out on Halloween in a feminine costume just urged me on to go farther. 

One thing led to another and all of a sudden I was at the tipping point of living full time as a transgender woman. 

It seemed too, fall was a great fashion time to present as a woman. As I did, I learned the basics of shopping for myself, experimenting with makeup and adding the proper accessories. In doing so, I found I needed to communicate with the public, which in turn taught me the very different basics of gender communication. 

I know I am giving too much credit to the season because the gender learning curve for me lasted for years, not months. But I vividly remember the joy when the weather cooled off and my makeup didn't melt off. 

In the meantime, as Mother Nature transitions into winter around here, there is plenty of time to enjoy boots, warm fuzzy sweaters and soft leggings!

Being Trans Visible

It's election day and I am proud to say I haven't missed many elections over the years. I am sad to say I have witnessed a couple of very bad presidents in my lifetime. Nixon was one. I think you can figure out the other.

I am not going to dwell on politics though in this post. I have a couple of comments to get to as well as the experience of voting for the first time as my feminine transgender self. I was a little nervous when I did it but on the other hand couldn't wait to produce my brand new driver's license which said "F" in the gender category, rather than "M". The license was scanned and nothing was said. I was just given my ballot to cast. Wow! It felt good! I guess now, the bad part is voting as a woman has become very mundane.

Both comments indirectly touch on the mechanics of getting to the mundane part if you are considering exploring a life as your true self (transgender) or just feel an affinity to dress as the opposite gender (cross dresser).

The first comes from Dawnautom who reads most of my posts on the WordPress blog platform:

 "Over the years I've talked to hundreds of transgender people all over the world most loved it when they could get out as them selves but a few found it felt to weird to be out in public like that. We're all different in how it affects us, some it has no effect on others spend their whole life in the closet. 

 I'm happy for you that your able to get out and be your self, I think the biggest problem we face is self love and confidence ones you master that everything else is down hill ( so to speak )."

Looking back, I can see how someone would think it was weird to go through a sudden change of gender privilege . In fact, at the last cross dresser - transgender support group meeting, a young trans man was explaining the difference approach society uses when dealing with different genders. 

The second comment comes from Connie:

"I believe that many, if not most, trans women go through a stage where their choice of feminine presentation is based on what they think a man would find appealing. I would take that one step further and say that it is often the case that the man they are seeking to please is themselves. After all, especially when one is closeted, the only man who will see "her" is "himself." Presenting oneself as a bit of a slut in public, though, does not necessarily garner the kind of attention her inner feminine-self was looking to receive. 

There's a reason that moms warn their children about this kind of woman - not marriage material. It's not that marriage is the goal of every trans woman, but it is that more-conventional kind of woman many of us transition toward. Gender dysphoria, I think, is on a spectrum and can vary for each of us, just as gender does itself. Gender expression can be a manifestation of one's perceived gender, the dysphoria, or both. For me, it's been as though my perceived feminine-self were the angel on my right shoulder, while the dysphoria sat like the devil digging his claws into the left. The more I listened to the sweet words of the angel, though, the less of a hold the dysphoric one had on me. I still like to wear my high heels, but the devil does not make me do it! :-)"

I agree gender dysphoria is also on a spectrum along with gender and sexuality. Good point!

Thank you both for your thoughtful comments!

Thanks

Thanks to all of you who have made comments here in Cyrsti's Condo or perhaps are new visitors to the blog. It means a lot! This includes those of you who comment through Facebook. :)

As far as the weekend went, we had another Cincinnati Witches Ball committee meeting to go to plus the ever exciting weekly trip to the grocery store. Both went without a hitch. I switched up my outfits and wore my paisley soft leggings I love so much with my long red sweater along with boots of course.

As I mentioned in my last post, the two "C"s (Comfort and Confidence) mean so much when combating my gender dysphoria. Again, as I mentioned, I didn't realize how deep my dysphoria ran.  Perhaps it all stems from a few highly unsuccessful  feminine trips in the public eye years ago when I first began to explore a new scary but exciting world. Basically, this was back in the 80's when times were very different.  Most of my problems were self created to be truthful.

Basically, I made the mistake of dressing for men and not women. Specifically, I dressed too trashy and drew too much unneeded attention.  I was stubborn though and figured since I didn't get to go out much, I needed to go all out and get the most bang for the buck. All of it resulted into too many mini skirts and high heeled days.

The only time I was really successful was when I dressed professionally and happened to blend with other cis women dressed the same way.

Which leads me full circle to the night I went out to purposely be a woman and blend in with other women getting off work from a local upscale mall. I was scared to death as I made my way to the upscale bar and ordered a cocktail. The first lesson I learned was, I lived. The second lesson was (after I relaxed) was I lived and actually felt very good doing it. The problem was I felt so good I knew I would experience more problems going back to my male life.

Little did I know, years later I would still be experiencing much of the same feelings.

Enough of me though. Thanks again to all of you for visiting! 

Witches Ball

What a night! Liz went approximately two days without sleep getting decorations ready. The good news was we filled the venue and made a nice amount of money for the two charities we give to.

As far as a costume goes, in a moment of panic, the two outfits I was planning on choosing from didn't work. I finally decided on my long flowing black embroidered skirt and black and white print blouse/top. I also bought a lighter foundation to give me a more "witchy" look. Finally I added the sparkly witches hat Liz bought me with a big spider on the side.

The reactions were varied and took me back to previous Halloweens. Of course I received quite a few looks and one compliment from the best looking cis woman in the crowd. I believe she was biased though because she has known me for a while now. She is obviously a big fan of transgender people. Still, a compliment is a compliment!

Anymore, Halloween is a different type of evening for me.  I have nothing to prove anymore with a feminine costume. In fact, I think the whole evening tends to get me clocked.  I am always aware of the compliment "you look beautiful"...for a man in a dress. Oh well.

Since we decorated the venue, we had to clean it up.  All of a sudden, a late night turned into an early morning. We had to be out by one o'clock and made it by five minutes.

By the time we finished loading and finally were done chatting it was around two in the morning.

The trip home was unremarkable outside of me getting my skirt stuck in the door. You could tell I don't wear a skirt much.

The major problem we encountered was stopping at a certain 24 hour hamburger chain I'm sure you would recognize if I told you. Every time I go there, I come away with the feeling being hungry was a better bet than eating there. So shame on me.

At least the employee at the drive thru window kept referring to us as "ladies" as she apologized for how long the order was taking.   

Sunday-Sunday

This weekend has been a return to the abstract called normalcy. Liz and I went back to doing the usual routine on Saturday.

Since The Ohio State Buckeyes played a noon game, the early part of our day was taking four hours to watch the Buckeyes take their football frustrations out on the Indiana Hoosiers.

To make up for all the fun, this week we added a fun trip to our storage shed to look for a few much needed old documents.

From there we went to a couple of stores with me still wearing my boot (for my fractured ankle) which I am very tired of. I am expecting a call from the VA to look at my ankle again this week. 

Through all of this, I marvel at the opportunity I have been given to live this transgender life I lead. Looking back, I remember the days when I felt intense pressure just walking into a store as my feminine self.

Now I worry about how my boot will affect how I walk.

Gender Quiz

Yesterday, I went in for my pulmonary breathing test.

I arrived early, checked in at the kiosk and pulled out my phone to pass the time. Nobody gave me a second look.

As I sat there though, my regular Doctor appeared briefly and saw me. Since I wasn't supposed to see her, I was surprised when she came over to talk. She is very nice and I enjoyed talking to her quite a bit until...she stuck the dreaded "he word" into the conversation. For the life of me, I don't know why all of the sudden I am having such a miserable time being mis-gendered.

I have examined how I go about my prep work before I go out and don't think there is much of a difference. But why would someone call a person obviously wearing feminine clothes with breasts and wearing makeup a he?

I have always believed in the power of how a person projects their personal aura. Perhaps, with time, I have become more lackadaisical in public. I just assume most of the public accepts me as a feminine being.

Maybe I should spend more time channeling my inner female.

Then again, the great majority of people don't understand what it does to a transgender person to be mis-gendered. I know it can really destroy or make my day when I have achieved the lofty "she" status in a conversation.

One thing is for sure, the redneck woman glaring and staring at me on the way out didn't care about pronouns. She was just all ugliness.

Then again, you can't educate everyone.

More Ideas

Connie had a comment concerning my Cyrsti's Condo post about trying to establish yourself in a feminine sense before anyone else has a chance to do otherwise:


"Another way to firmly establish that you are "she" is to refer to yourself using feminine terms. You could say things like: I'm not your average housewife; I've been so busy, even Wonder Woman would be challenged; or I like to be helpful - but it's not like I consider myself to be a heroine or anything. I like to work into the conversation "femme fatale" when referring to myself (well, I could be one if I wanted to). ;-) "


Femme fatale would work beautifully as you water your flowers!

Or look at it this way, you could be like Geena Rocero ( Transgender Playmate) who makes her swimsuits out of natural materials.  Just an idea! 

Are You a Feminist?

One of the questions which basically caught me by surprise during my interview during the Trans Ohio Symposium by J.M. Ellison, was I a feminist.

I said, of course I was and had been one years before I even transitioned fully.

During my years in the restaurant business, I worked mainly around women and their success was my success. Often, I learned the hard way what being a woman was all about, through their eyes. I saw how difficult it was for them to gain and keep the respect of macho dominated kitchen crews and often, how much harder it was for them to work with groups of women.

So yes, I became a firm feminist many years ago. So, it didn't come as a total surprise to me what happened to me when I began to transition to a full time feminine life. All of a sudden, I became a second class citizen when I was talking to a group of men. Also, I had to wait behind guys to get served and wasn't even given credit on how to get to my own house by a tow driver one time.

Amazingly enough, my learning experience carried all the way over to when I started what I called my "lesbian phase."  I ended up having many good experiences along with many which weren't so good. Along the way though, I sensed many of the women I came in contact with on a positive level were reacting to me because I presented as a "lipstick lesbian" with the slightest bit of maleness for balance. Of course most women don't carry the same sexual deep paranoia's as men do.

At any rate, I ended up adding another level of feminine understanding.

I was on a sensory overdrive to prove to my self I could prove my wife wrong when she said I didn't have any idea about what being a woman was all about.

On another level, what I don't understand is why transgender women have such a hard time being accepted by "Terf's"
(Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminists).

Very simply, a trans woman has had a different path to becoming a woman. Plus, let's not forget being born female does not make you a woman. Society does.

It would seem to me, in a time where women's rights continue to come under attack, any help would be welcome to change society. Especially from a transgender woman who has been on both sides of the gender fences.

Weekend Transgender Fun

Or, things to do while I happen to be transgender. Mentally, I don't make the separation much anymore. To me, I am just me, presenting feminine after so many years in gender hell. On occasion though, I will pause and look back on what a long strange trip it has been. I even considered posting my one and only "before" picture with this post but I won't since it causes me to remember back to so many painful days.

At any rate, we are supposed to have a good Spring weather weekend around here for a change, so it's time to dig through my wardrobe and pull out a few suitable

cross dressing pic... circa 2009

outfits.

Friday night is the monthly dinner and music social with the cross dressers - transgender group. I will have to check the weather but I might be able to get away with just a light sweater with jeans or leggings. I have a powder blue sweater Liz gave me that goes great with leggings and actuates my figure. I may have to break down and wear a bra with it though because it gets a bit "nipply" if you look at me from the wrong angle. I just don't like to wear bras, preferring a more "natural" feel. The lighting where we go is normally low, so I should be able to wear the outfit without a jacket and do fine.

Saturday (as always} is errand day. We start with Liz's martial arts class where she just became a recommended black belt and then go to the grocery store. This week though, we have another meeting for the Witches Ball Committee, which should be interesting because the head person quit in protest. So everyone will have to step up and take more responsibility. So far, my deal is being in charge of our Cincinnati Pride table. Not too bad.

Finally Sunday, we hope to get a head start on the yard and work outside. Boring but needed activity.

Our Crowning Glory

It doesn't matter, if we are transgender, cross dresser or cis woman, hair means quite a bit to us. I still feel as if I caved into pressure a bit to get my hair cut much shorter than it was. It definitely is more age appropriate and more feminine. And yes Shelle, it is so much cooler!

Here were a couple more questions I received: Plus I added another picture with a bit more contrast.

1. FABULOUSCONNIEDEEJune 27, 2018 at 5:29 PM

   "Very nice! This is after the hair coloring, though? Maybe it's the red brick wall behind you that makes it hard for me to see."
2. 
   Paula GoodwinJune 28, 2018 at 7:34 AM

   "I think that style suits you, and is actually a little more feminine than the flowing locks! I have been nervous of reverting to my natural colour because of the interim stages ~ For the next few weeks I will be sporting pink white and blue wash out stripes"
3. Thanks to both of you! Actually this cut is without coloring. My stylist has suggested I go back to my original color because it brings my eyes out so well. We are going to be able to see more when I go back in August for my next appointment. Fortunately, my hair grows really fast and if the experiment does't go well, we can go back to coloring again. 
4. Also, deep down inside, I have been wanting to lighten up my color anyhow!  As my stylist said, it may be a little less severe. 

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