When Gender Makes a Restroom Call

 

Women's Restroom 
from UnSplash,

Quite early when I began to leave my gender closet behind and navigate the public, it became evident that I would have to do something about how I was going to use the women’s restroom.

Initially, I had two problems and one benefit to deal with. The two problems I dealt with were the forms of liquid I was digesting, beer and coffee. Both of which did not want to stay in my body long, so I had to use the restroom more often than I normally would. The benefit I had was I had had many occasions to be in the women’s room as a man when I managed my restaurants. Sadly, I learned that ciswomen were not the fastidious gender I thought they were as I cleaned up many messes and tried to unclog stopped up toilets when there were trash receptacles nearby for sanitary products. So, I was prepared when I ran into a mess in a women’s room when I entered for the first time as a novice transgender woman.

On the other hand, I recognized the seriousness of entering a women’s only space and set out to be prepared. Naturally, I learned many lessons I added to those I already knew. Out of the many things I learned was I needed to flip totally the male idea that no one looks at another man at all in the restroom. Whereas, as much as I did not want to, I needed to smile and acknowledge other women in the restroom because that was the right thing to do. Little did I know, I was just getting started on learning the basics of survival in the women’s room.

I learned to look for an extra hook in the stall so I could hang my purse up properly and a secure lock to keep my all-important privacy secure. As you might remember, a poor abused lock let me down on a recent vacation to New England. Fortunately, I was just finishing my important business in a stall when I was rudely interrupted by a young girl who broke through the lock and surprised both of us. The disaster was averted since I was almost dressed and had pulled my leggings up. It was the only time something like that happened to me and it gave me the extra incentive to check the locks in the stalls I chose.

When I was younger and more insecure in the women’s restroom, I went to any extent to cover all my transgender bases. Of course, I always sat to pee, which I had seen cross dressers in the past not do, as they even left the toilet seat up. Then they wondered why they lost women’s room privileges. Which leads me to this point, cross dressers or not have to look before they sit on toilets. You can save yourself from bad situations by doing so. Also, when I was younger, just in case a prying woman asked, yes, I did have an extra feminine protection product for her to use. I was that paranoid of being discovered and losing my gender restroom privileges. I even tried to mimic a ciswoman’s urine flow to keep up.

Outside of having the courage to use the “room”, perhaps the second biggest act of courage is leaving the relative security of your stall and leaving. I had to remember that normally there was a line of women waiting to use the stall, so I had to move it along. That also meant ALWAYS washing my hands, quickly checking my hair and makeup and leaving. Hopefully safely without any negative feedback such as being called a pervert by a nasty woman one night. Thankfully, it was an isolated incident which happened years ago, and I have had no further repeats of such a negative experience.

Sadly, with many states coming up with more stringent anti-transgender restroom laws, we trans women and trans men also must become more adept in how we use the restroom. And I can’t imagine how bad it is for trans youth just trying to get by.

My words of wisdom are to look for restrooms which are uni-gender such as coffee shops and easy acceptance venues such as bookstores. Anyplace you can scout out the potential restroom you need to use. Then build your confidence from there. And one more thing (at least) make sure there is toilet paper in the stall you use because the next woman after you will wonder how you used it without paper.

Once you are confident of your transgender womanhood, other ciswomen will notice nothing is wrong with you. Which there isn’t. When your gender makes a restroom call, you are just doing what comes naturally.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gender Lost and Found

 

Image from Patrick Hawlick
on UnSplash.  

Navigating the path of lost and found is often very difficult for a transgender woman or transgender man. Speaking for me only, my path was filled with many holes and dead ends before I ever saw any success.

Perhaps, even more frustrating was the fact that once I thought I had made a significant move forward, I would hit a brick wall and be rejected again, and desperation set in. Too many times, at the beginning of my feminine experience when I had no clue of what I was doing wrong when I had enough courage to leave my dark closet. It finally occurred to me that I had had enough of my frustrating existence as a man. Sadly, some days I was on my transfeminine game. Some days not so much as there was so much to learn. Such as, on the days when my makeup, hair and wardrobe looked presentable, I caught myself making the same old male scowl I had perfected to keep the world away. It got so bad, I even had a little girl point me out to her mom by saying “Look at the big MEAN woman” Not the image I wanted to portray but at least I passed the woman part. The gender cup was half full, and I had learned a valuable lesson.

My biggest challenge was putting together my feminine image once I succeeded in getting it out of the mirror. The mirror was always kind to me by telling me just what I wanted to hear. While the public was brutally honest with me and they were my mirror. Sometimes I found what I was looking for and was accepted as a trans woman, and some days I wasn’t. The classic lost and found. My goal always was to keep my gender finds much more frequent than my losses. What I never knew was how difficult that would be. I thought I had a good understanding of what a woman’s life would be all about, until I learned how wrong I was. It seemed my lessons were like peeling back the layers of an onion. Even to the point of shedding tears when I was not successful.

The more I followed the obscure gender signs on my path, the more of my male life I lost and of course, he hated it. With the hate came an alliance with my second wife to stop me from finding more of my transgender self. The two on one battle was never fair, but I knew I would have to fight it anyway for my self-survival. The ultimate lost and found was at stake for me. I had a life to lose when I transitioned as I faced the very real reality of losing my marriage, family, friends and employment. On the other hand, I faced the growing reality I could live out my lifetime dream of living as a woman on my terms.

Ultimately, I discovered I uncovered a life so rich and full, I wondered how I had ever lived without it before. Of course, I am referring to my new life as a transgender woman. I found my unique life between the two main binary genders gave me a perspective on life that many others just don’t have. I never lost my knowledge of what men think, while at the same time gaining an idea of what women were thinking too. In fact, several women I knew after I transitioned reached out to me for ideas about problems they were having with their men. I knew I had finally arrived and had gained more than I had ever lost.

As I could see the distant finish line on my gender path, I picked up speed and did things such as start gender affirming hormones or HRT. The hormones never made me transgender but helped me to sync up my internal gender issues. I was so fortunate when the doctor said I was healthy enough to start his hormonal program. Minimal dosage or not, I was on my way again.

Even though, I don’t think I would wish gender lost and found on anyone, for me, what I went through made life interesting. Just to understand in my own way what ciswomen go through in their lives as close as I could took me closer to my goal of jumping to what I saw as the side of the gender border, I wanted to be on. I even lived through the old “bait and switch” side of life when I thought I was being successful, but I wasn’t. Ultimately, learning more and more transgender lessons as I did.

 

 

 

It's Halloween Season

 

Image from Andrea Li
on UnSplash.

It is finally here, the season that all cross dressers and novice transgender women dream about, Halloween. It is the magical day when we can be ourselves without all the paranoia of being caught and exposed as a man wanting to be feminine. The time when everyone has a chance to cross the gender line and be themselves.

These days, since I sadly don’t participate in Halloween much anymore, I don’t write much about it. But back in the day, I was fanatical in my Halloween preparations. Without fail, I would begin thinking of my “costume” the first of October and change my mind several times before Halloween itself. I always felt a transgender woman had the right to change her mind. Would I try to be sexy this year or try for a more authentic “costume” such as a professional woman look. Major decisions I needed to make with the added pressure of knowing it would be another year before I could take advantage of the parties again.

Ironically, the “costumes” I chose followed in many ways my progression as an early transgender woman. In the early days, I would try to dress sexy and get away with the shortest mini dresses and highest heels I could find. Of course, then, I would give myself away as more than just a casual “jokester” at Halloween by shaving my legs, wearing a long sexy wig, and having great looking makeup. Which my wife took credit for when she wasn’t and didn’t wear any makeup at all. Even the most casual ciswoman observers at the parties I went to could tell how serious I was about looking my best as a woman.

As I said, I quickly grew out of my sexy/trashy Halloween costumes and began to dream of being accepted my mistake as a “real woman” at the parties I went to. That began my era of actually being mistaken for a woman just getting off work and coming to one of the parties I went to. I was professionally dressed in a dress and heels and ended up surprising other guests I had known for years. For the evening, I went with another woman other than my wife and had to sadly turn down a request to go with another couple to a different party. Later on, I learned that the man was a politician who was elected to Washington, so my political career was quickly ended by saying no.

Outside of that party, there was only one other party I went to when I was dressed in a moderately sexy “costume”. It was during my stay in New York and another night I got out of the house without my second wife going with me, for some reason. This time, my invitation came from one of my female managers where I worked, so I looked forward to what the evening had in store for me. It turned out my sexy “costume” hair and makeup fit it perfectly with the other women I ended up meeting for the first time.

I ended up meeting everyone in my manager’s house and they were all there when I arrived. I will never forget the delight I felt when I saw they were all dressed like me, so unknowingly I had dressed to blend with them. Also, I will never forget the hush that fell over the room as the other women looked me over from head to toe. I ended up tagging along in my heels, hose and mini skirt with all the other women who were almost as tall as I when we made our way to a close by neighborhood bar where the party was taking place. I had my misgivings about how I would be treated there, but after I was in the bar for a while, there was no indication from anyone that I was not anyone different than I appeared. I was even asked if I wanted to dance by a man. All I know was the night flew by in a hurry and my wife did not speak to me for days because she saw my “costume” before I left.

Even though my Halloween highs were very high, sadly they were accompanied by very lows I needed to suffer through. I became very depressed and mean and tried to make everyone around me feel the same way. My problem was only ultimately solved by getting out of my dark gender closet more than just once a year.

In order for me to exist in a life I was discovering I needed, I had to set Halloween aside as just another day. Which ultimately took all the fun and drama away from it. But sacrifices had to be made for me to live as a transgender woman and Halloween was just one of them.

 

Taking a Break from the Elephant?

 

No more Elephants! JJ Hart,

Taking a break from the elephant? I guess finally I am.

This morning, with groceries running low in the house, my wife Liz and I decided to run out in the rain to our nearby coffee shop to grab coffee and a breakfast snack. Since I was not anticipating meeting anyone else in the world, I just grabbed my purse and headed out the door with Liz. No makeup or anything since we were just going through the drive through. When we returned home and in a dry space, it occurred to me that I had retired the elephant in the closet of my life.

Excuse my language, but that damn elephant has always been a part of me for as long as I can remember. It was somehow a part of every decision I made. I could not take a break if I wanted to. If I was on a vacation with my second wife, I could not relax because I was thinking so much how I would feel if I could do it as a woman. Usually, after the vacation was over, I just wanted to get back to work to take my mind off the elephant in the room…my transgender issues.

I finally came to a point when I quit worrying about who I was gender-wise. I was just me and that had to be good enough. Surely though, I needed a lot of help to make it to that point in my life. I was deeply insecure about my transfeminine self and needed whatever public reassurance I could get. More than not, the reassurance came from having no feedback at all when I was out in the world. No laughing or staring to ruin my entire experience. I just could not take any sort of break until I became better at my public presentation all the time. I was still two people trying to come together.

All of this extended over to my writing which at this count is over seven thousand posts over ten years on one platform I write on. On occasion, I go back through my earlier posts to see what if there were any changes there were.  When I did, I was amazed at how centered in I was on my feminine appearance and not much else. I still had not learned what the elephant in the room was trying to tell me, there was so much more to being a woman than my appearance. I could not take a break until I learned that ciswomen lead a more difficult, layered life than men, and I needed to adjust and do better if I was ever going to really succeed.

I don’t think I truly conquered all of my fears of merging my worlds together until Liz and I began to take bus tour vacations to various parts of the country. Primarily, when I needed to stand in line for the first time in many years with other women waiting to use the restroom. The entire process tested my new outlook on the world in a space which was considered a women’s only environment. I remembered what I learned from all my past experiences, did what I had to do, washed up and left. With no adverse feedback from any potential haters or bigots. I was just me using the restroom.

With all of that behind me, I began to relax even farther and enjoy all the new scenery the trip had to offer, for the first time as me. I was on my own and to hell with the elephant which had taken up so much room in my closet. Another chapter in my life had been closed. The only break I took was from my daily writing routine, to allow myself a chance to recharge my batteries and hopefully do a better job which I had never been professionally trained at. I just started writing to hopefully help others with similar issues.

These days, since I have retired from my elephant and am still taking a break from all the problems and commotion he caused, sometimes I don’t know how to act. After all, I needed years to rebuild the damage he caused. Taking a break, now, means a lot more to me than just taking a vacation. I am sure before the next adventure we take; I will still feel the same residue from past gender world mishaps I needed to overcome and move forward, but at least I don’t have to ruin my days worrying about it.

It is much easier to pack for a trip for just one person. The only person which really mattered all along which makes taking a break much easier to do.

 

 

If I was a Betting Person

 

Image from Jeshoots.Com on 
UnSplash.

In my life, I have never been much of a betting person at all.

In addition, there were many times I would have bet against myself when I thought of ever making it to my dream of being a fulltime transgender woman. I had a real problem remembering all the negatives I encountered when I first left my closet and went out into the world. As I always mention, my gender woman’s workbook was totally blank when I started my life. The only fact which was rapidly becoming sure to me was that was I positive something was wrong with me.

Probably the only thing I would have been certain of was the gender issue I dealt with was deep and very complicated. Had I known how to bet on it, I would have. The only thing I would never bet on was I had my life completely backwards. Since I was born into a male world, I stayed there way too long. Staying on course to be the best man I could.

For awhile I thought I was successful in my male life as I held the bullies at bay by playing sports and working on cars. The proof was when I finally did work through my issues and transitioned, the very few people who knew the old male me were totally surprised when I told them. Proof I hid my true self very well, often sadly. I was hiding myself too well and, in the meantime, hurting my already frail mental health.

By this time, my male self was betting against any idea I could ever come out into the world as a transfeminine person. In fact, he did not know what the term meant. Following the adversity I went through coming out, he found out what perfecting our new life was all about. It was about going out as much as I could and exploring an exciting, yet scary, new world. It was about buckling up and staying the gender course I was on, when the times got rough. Which was often. I never had any of the feminine attributes a few cross dresser or transgender women had, so my path was often difficult.

As I became better at my feminine presentation, I began to think my dream was possible after all. I could even bet on it. For once, the optics of gender were working for me. Controlling the optics took a lot of work when I was rejected as a woman for so long. I would have pulled my chips back off the table and headed home. The big difference now was, I was able to outbluff others around me and stay in the game. I am sure no one mistook me as a cisgender woman, but on the other hand, no one was mistaking me as some sort of a bogus person trying to fool the public as a beginning drag queen. Betting on myself as an authentic person turned out to be the best move, I ever made in my life.

A good plan went a long way as I was able to carve out a new life in a relatively short time. I was not as shy as I was as a man and the world opened for me. After many false starts, success began to happen. I was staying out of my own way as a trans woman and letting my inner woman run my life.

I also learned where I was welcome to be a betting person in the world. For the most part, cisgender women accepted me in their world and let me play. Men, on the other hand, never wanted to bet me on anything. Which I quickly learned was not important to me after all. As long as other women validated me, that was all that mattered and again, my life improved.

Pushing my chips to the middle of my life’s gender table and betting I could make it to my dream I always wanted to live was all that mattered. Doing away with my conservative past helped me immeasurably during this portion of my life. I did not view myself as being any sort of courageous person. Just a person who had to do what she had to do to survive in a challenging world. The question became how fast I could learn the new rules of being a woman on my own terms. Decoding the difference between male and female privileges was the biggest challenge.

At that point, the betting game I was playing became closer to a game of mental gender chess. As an excuse, I kept telling myself I was not betting at all. Just playing the odds, I was right when it came to gender. When I expected I would make it as a transgender woman I did. I finally was right when I bet on myself.

 

 

 

 

 

Gender Dreams

 

Image from Greg Pappas 
on UnSplash.

This morning when I woke up, I took a moment to remember the sadness I felt when I got up in the morning and I was not a girl. I had the same sad realization, I was still a boy and nothing had changed. Plus, it is important to point out that I had no other dreams when I was young such as being a professional athlete or a doctor. All I wanted was to be a girl. I figured I was the only boy in the world who felt that way.

It was on those mornings when I needed to realize I was still male, and I had a long trip to make if I ever was going to change it. As my life became more complex, so did my gender dreams. Sometimes, I could not wait until I went to sleep to see what sort of dreams, I would have that provided me a respite from the days activity of being a man.

It was not until I decided to come out of my closet and test the world as a transgender woman, did my nights began to change. Replacing dreams with action was often a very scary proposition. But it was one thing I had to do if I was ever going to see if I could make it to a new transfeminine world at all. Would the public ever come to a point where they would accept me as more than just a man in a dress. Out in the world to be laughed at. If I could never make it past that point of being a cross-dresser, did I want to go on any longer and forget all the dreams I had. I finally discovered there was much more to being a woman than appearance and it was just my male ego trying to influence me.

Still, as I struggled along in my novice cross-dressing years, my gender dreams began to change with it. Instead of just wanting to be a woman, I started to dream of how it would be to live as an attractive woman and not have to worry about my presentation so much. I think it was because I was becoming more confident in myself, and my subconscious self was adjusting to the new me. More or less, I was reacting to the kinder, gentler world I was in as a transgender woman, and I loved it.

My main problem then was, could I make it to my dream when it became a reality. I was frustrated when I thought I could see the finish line and it was taken from me due to unknown transitional experiences such as what would I do about supporting myself if and when I made the decision to go from a male world to a female world. And would I need to prepare to be lonely the rest of my life because the possibility of someone loving and accepting a trans woman were exceedingly rare at my age of sixty. I was fortunate and exceeded all my dreams when I was financially able to take an early retirement and support myself and found my wife Liz (or she found me) on an online dating site. At that point forward, I had painted myself into a corner and I had no real reason to not follow my dream of being a transgender woman full time. Because I had finally faced up to myself and realized I had always been trans parttime, even though I could not share it fulltime with the world. 

As I faced up to reality, my nighttime dreams began to change also. Slowly my old male is disappearing from my subconscious too, He is being replaced by new dreams with me living as my true, authentic self. Maybe it is because he was pushed out of his final hiding place in my mind. Whatever the case, I was not sad to see him go.

I wonder now, what my childhood boy would think if he could see me now. Doing much more than just hiding in a gender closet waiting for brief moments to escape and explore. I am sure he never thought he would have the ability or confidence to be who he always wanted to be. Not an athlete or a doctor, just myself…a woman. I certainly had to come a different direction to claim my prize but maybe by doing so, I appreciate it more because it was never just given to me.

The boy I was would have never known his dreams would have never turned out like this, and being happy would not have been so far away also when she was playing with the girls. Where she always belonged.

Fight or Flight?

 

Image from Anna Deli
on UnSplash.

As a man, fight or flight became very important to me. Primarily because I needed to become the protector of the loved ones around me and myself.

To be clear, I was never much of a physical fighter, but as I grew into manhood, I was not shy of confrontations either. I could use my size and or male knowledge to back off most potential opponents. For the most part, it was a straightforward proposition. Rule, or be ruled.

Of course, when I transitioned from my unwanted male life into a new exciting feminine world, my idea of fight or flight needed to dramatically change, before I got hurt.

Not too long ago, I had a question from one of my readers asking me what the most important male privilege that I lost was. I replied, the loss of my personal security. I found out quite quickly how dangerous men can be to women a couple times right after I transitioned and left myself in compromising situations around toxic men. I was fortunate my second wife was around to bail me out the first time and I was able to spend my last five-dollar bill to pay two guys off to leave me alone on the second. The best five dollars I had ever spent! (There probably should be something to the effect I was cheap but not easy brought up too!)

All kidding aside, escaping these situations taught me valuable fight or flight lessons. Gone were the days of out bluffing other men in potentially harmful situations, and in were the days of planning ahead to stay out of situations which could cause me trouble. Keep in mind also, I was spending most of my time out to be alone in those days, so I as completely alone as a transgender woman. If I passed as a cisgender woman, was I in better shape than if I was read as being a trans woman. There was no good alternative, and I always kept flight ideas in the back of my mind if I needed them. I think one of my biggest paranoias was having some bigot sneak up on me from behind and pull my wig off. Which never happened.

Through it all, I suffered from not having a girlhood to grow up in where I could learn the lessons all cisgender women know. Such as doing their best not to find themselves in dark unlit parking lots alone. Following my close call on a dark city street outside two gay venues, from then on, I had a trans man friend of mine walk me to my car to be safe. It was a different experience to be sure for me, but there was/is safety in numbers when it comes to leaving your male safety privilege behind.

When it comes right down to it, your fight or flight chapter of your gender workbook needs to be filled out quite quickly. I know several transgender women who carry weapons in their purses for protection. Even though I was infantry trained on weapons in the Army, I choose not to arm myself because of the fear of shooting myself. My wife Liz and I have talked about the possibility of buying pepper spray as a deterrent, but we just don’t really go anywhere where we could be in danger of using it. So, we have not acted on any moves to arm ourselves yet. Plus, Liz went through some intensive martial arts training several years ago which she could use. There is a plan for us to use if we have to fight in an increasingly toxic world in which I am just about totally worthless at the age of seventy-five and with mobility issues. Ironically, I have experienced yet another full circle moment in my life as I have gone from a fight-first mentality, all the way to a flight first priority. I guess it comes with the territory of being a senior citizen transgender woman.

Whatever the case is for you, please be careful in whatever path you choose to go as a transfeminine person. Just use your new feminine wiles to help you stay safe just knowing it is a possibly toxic world depending upon where you live. I have an on-line acquaintance who lives in rural Tennessee who has been slowly coming out in the recent months, and by sheer willpower, she has chosen to stay and fight for her existence. It takes a lot of courage to say to one of her neighbors who threatened her job by saying she was transgender, to get over it, but she finally did. And she still kept her job, so it is possible to fight instead of fleeing. As I said, just be careful if you do it.

I think the worse bigots to fight are the Bible thumpers who want to quote scripture to you. I am far from a biblical scholar and can never remember a rebuttal to use when and if it ever happens to me. It never has because I would have to fight not to flee the situation.

 

Long Labor Day Weekend

 

Image from Anna Storsul
on UnSplash

Labor Day weekend is upon us in the United States which gives us an opportunity to take an extra day off and think about what got us here and how close we are coming to losing it.

Even though I have never been in a union myself, I am an amateur historian and know what unions did to transform this country. All you need to do is some basic research on how bad working conditions were in the steel industry as well as coal mining and elsewhere to see what unions brought about. So, on Labor Day, I salute them.

Elsewhere, the weekend this year features some beautiful weather with sunny blue skies and very low humidity for a change around here in the Ohio River Valley (Cincinnati.) Of course, the early fall like conditions won’t last forever and soon we will be back into summer’s last call. In a couple of weeks, my wife Liz and I will be headed for the East Coast, Boston, Maine and more so I am hoping for the reasonably good weather to hang around until then.

By now, you may be asking what does any of this have to do with being transgender? The answer is it has everything to do with being myself as a transfeminine person. Since this marks our fifth bus tour over the years of hanging out with other cisgender women waiting for my chance to use the bathroom, I still have lingering paranoia with using women’s rooms which goes back to my earliest days of cross dressing in public. Even though I have not had any problems in the past with anyone else, I still have the idea it only takes one bigot on the bus to ruin my trip. At least, this time we are traveling through more liberal blue states, so I won’t have that to worry about. As I said, my lingering fear is subsiding, so I can concentrate on having a good time and seeing the sights of New England. The last trip we were on a woman asked if Liz and I were sisters, so you cannot get more validation than that.

Closer to home before we leave, tonight we are going to dinner at our favorite restaurant with her son. It is another venue I have rarely ever been misgendered in and have never had any serious problems. It always feels good to just exist and enjoy myself since I worked so long and hard to get here as a transgender woman. The more I can fly under the gender radar in today’s world, the better I feel.

Before we go, I will have to shave closely, apply moisturizer, powder and lipstick before I change out of my The Ohio State sweatshirt and into a frilly feminine top and brush out my hair. All of which are still fun for me to do. Not just something I have to do to present better in the world.

Finishing out the day, it will be time to head home and watch the end of summer Cincinnati fireworks display. The display is always huge and attracts nearly a million people on both sides of the Ohio River. Back in the day, when I was younger and another person, I used to come down every year for the Booms. But age and mobility have caught up to me, taken their toll, and we just watch them on television now. Then let the out-of-control neighborhood idiots set their fireworks off and scare the animals and any near veterans with combat PTSD. Out of the two cats Liz and I have; one hates any sort of loud noise.

As with many other holidays, Labor Day presents yet another milestone in my transgender life. I can remember quite vividly when I used alcohol on holidays to dull the pain of not having the chance to spend them as my feminine self. I was fortunate to have escaped my closet and the control alcohol had on me before it was too late. It turned out it was all in front of me all along if and when I had the courage to reach out and seize my opportunity to transition and just be me.

I guess you could say, I needed to labor to do it, but it was worth the effort. When we toast ourselves tonight with our Margaritas, I will propose a toast to all the work we three have put into to where we are today. And, to all of you, no matter where you are today, have a chance to pause and celebrate the gender journey you are on, or have yet to do. Buckle up! It is one hell of a ride. 

Seismic Gender Shifts

Image from AC on UnSplash.

I received a response from a reader seeking more input on how I was able to integrate myself into the lesbian and sports bar cultures.

First, thanks for the question as it is a complex one to try to answer. It turned out, the lesbian culture was the most difficult to be accepted into.  I began my journey in Dayton, Ohio around the year 2005 while my second wife was still alive. Back in those days, there were still lesbian bars in business for me to go to. It is important to note, one of them was essentially a lesbian biker bar and they hated me. Especially when I played “Shania Twain’s” I Feel Like a Woman in the bar. Even still, they barely put up with me until I found a better venue to go to.

It turned out, relatively close along the road was another small lesbian bar which had just opened, so I tried it out. Imagine my surprise when the first bartender I saw, knew me as my male self also. She saw through my femininized appearance, and I was treated very warmly, which helped me gain acceptance from the other patrons. I was able to relax and look around at the dynamics around me.

What I immediately noticed was where I fit in the layered levels of women in the bar. There was everything from very masculine butch lesbians, all the way to their femme girlfriends who came with them. I learned very quickly, with my jeans, boots and makeup, I fit right in with the femme lesbians, even to the point of attracting attention of a few of the butches. Who, on occasion, bought me beers and flirted with me. In fact, my first dinner date was with a super butch who went on to become a full-fledged transgender man. Keep in mind also, back in those days, I was much younger and could present much easier in public once I learned the basics. Such as, what I was going to wear when I went to a lesbian bar. There would be no dresses or skirts for the evening.

It is also important to note, my next foray into the lesbian culture was pure luck or destiny if you don’t believe in luck. This is where my sports bar experience comes in. Keep in mind, I had managed sports bars for a living in my past and had a basic knowledge of how I would go about becoming a regular. Again, I needed to dress to blend, stay friendly, smile and tip well. My plan worked well and soon I did become a regular at several venues where I had gone to as a man and always wondered if I could repeat my visit as a transgender woman.

On one night, one of the bartenders asked me if I would be interested in meeting her single lesbian mother and I said yes. We ended up getting along well and even ended up adding another lesbian woman by complete chance who I ended up partying with for years until I met Liz and moved to Cincinnati. As destiny would have it, Liz identified as a lesbian also, so my circle was complete. I was basically protected from the world until I could learn many of the nuances of being a transgender woman. Such as, I did not need a man to justify my existence.

I guess you could say, my seismic gender shifts just came along when I needed it, or when I was questioning my sexuality. I had always gotten along with women easier than men and their interest in me sealed my future in the world. I enjoyed immensely going to lesbian mixers and being flirted with on occasion. I always thought it was because I was hitting some level of middle gender with some women who were not intimidated by a woman who used to be a man. They were intrigued and even impressed by my honesty in how I approached my life.

Sadly today, around here at least, there are very few pure lesbian bars left to learn in, and the younger generation seems to be more accepting of the transgender world. Which is what is scaring all the politicians, shoving unjust laws down our throat. However, I don’t want to get too far off the subject and just say my acceptance into a totally new culture as a transgender lesbian came at a cost. But a good one and I had friends.  

The Forgotten Woman

Image from UnSplash.

 Over the years of gender infighting, I needed to carefully sustain my transgender womanhood because she often was the forgotten person.

To begin with, she began life as a second-class citizen in my world when I was born as a male in a male dominated family. Essentially, she had two walls to climb immediately to survive at all.   First of all, she did not have any on hands guidance from mom or girlfriends to show her the way through life and secondly, my male self was successful at all in the world, she was completely forgotten. The fragile complement between my genders had to be maintained at all times or she would disappear. Many times, I asked myself why I wanted her along to begin with, but the answer kept coming back, I needed her.

I discovered the hard way, the occasional trip to the hallway mirror dressed as a girl with full makeup, just was not going to cut it. I just needed more. If I could manage to look like a girl, why couldn't I be a girl, if only in my mind. The problem became, when I had to return to my male reality, I needed to forget my girl self altogether. Many days, it seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. when the only true punishment came at the expense of my already frail mental health. All too often, depression would set in when I forgot my feminine self and could not least appease her by cross dressing in the mirror. 

Another problem was, the more I appeased my forgotten woman, the more my male self-hated it. He fought hard when any portion of his life was threatened. He tried his best to make it easier in life by gaining white male privileges which were difficult to give up. I became successful as a male, but try as I might, I could not forget my inner woman. Who, at the time, was learning more and more how to establish herself in the world. Many times, my male self would win the battles in our life when along he was losing the war. A typical female move he was too blind to see as he blustered along in life. 

When my forgotten woman became less forgotten and more accomplished, my male self-started to panic as he could see the end in sight. Without being a winner. Basically, he teamed up with my second wife to attempt to save what they could of my life. At that point, decisions needed to be made in the worst way. My so-called forgotten woman had learned she could indeed live a life on her own terms. The ability to stand on her own two feet after all those years in a closet was so liberating, she knew she could never go back and, on the other hand, my guy knew deep down he was defeated. 

Living a transgender life she had always dreamed of was suddenly all that mattered. She dictated I start gender affirming hormones to feminize my body outside and inside and that was just the start to being accepted in the world. At that point my forgotten woman was not forgotten anymore, and she got her just due for all the years she waited for control. She loved every bit of it.

Trans Girl Secrets

Image from Ben White 
on Unsplash.

Secrets became a very important part of my life at a very young age.

It all started when I viewed myself in women's clothes  in front of the mirror for the first time. I realized my life would never be the same again. Plus I also knew my desire to be a girl would not be well received by my family at all. It was in the late 1950's and early 1960's when cross dressing was still considered to be a crime where I lived near Dayton, Ohio. In those days any sort of gender dysphoria was thought to be a mental illness. Even then, I couldn't see the act of cross dressing in women's clothes to be an act of mental illness. 

What happened then was I needed to go into a dark secretive closet, I would not come out of completely for a half a century. Along the way, I included very few outsiders in my secret. Four or five to be exact. I did not even include myself in my secret. What I am referring to is the fact I wanted to do much more in my life than just cross dress as a girl, when in reality, the reverse was true. I was a woman cross dressing as a man the entire time and I was indeed transgender after all.

Predictably, one secret leads to another and another and in my case led to lies being told later on. My dishonesty came when I refused to admit to myself who I really was and took out my frustration on those closest to me. I became a very unpleasant person to be around when my gender dysphoria was at its worst. Even to the point of me losing a job because of what I was going through. It was like I was setting myself up for failure at every turn in my life as I waited for more and more people to discover my secret. 

The longer my secret was hidden away and on the other hand, I was desperately trying to discover a new feminine world as a transgender woman, the heavier my secret became. I attempted to hide all my transgender activities from my second wife and was reasonably successful. I say reasonably because I would do more and more as a trans woman until she caught me and the gender battle between us would continue. She was wiser than I was when at one point she told me to just leave her and live a life as a woman. That made her the second woman in my life who I should have listened to when they told me the same thing. The first was my gender therapist years before. 

Sadly, my male self was not ready to give up the strangle hold he had on my life and encouraged me to do the male thing and try to ignore and internalize all my struggles. Of course in the end run, the only thing which happened was the pressure just kept on building as I managed to keep my secret. However, no matter how hard my male self tried to protect his domain, he was slowly sliding down a cliff of no return. Finally, with the help of several close friends I made the gender leap of faith. I gave away all of my male clothes, started gender affirming hormones (HRT) and never looked back. 

Perhaps the best part of not having to protect my secret and not live a lie was my new friends never knew my old male self at all. My inner feminine soul was finally free to live her life. When she did, she became the third woman in my life to tell me the same thing.

The only secret I really ever had was I was never really a man at all. 

Opportunity Knocks

 

Civil War Cemetery image
from the Jessie Hart Archives
 

In my life I have found several really rare times where true opportunity actually knocked on my door. 

As I indicated, the situations were exceedingly rare and required split second decisions on how I was going to proceed. Possibly the first main one happened when I went with the "A" list trans women from the cross dresser - transgender mixer I was at in Cleveland. It was the night I gathered my courage, put on my big girl panties and was able to enjoy a professional makeover at the mixer. The result was I looked better than I ever had in my life and really wanted to claim my spot with the other impossibly feminine women in the room who were planning to continue the meeting with going to gay venues afterwards. At the second venue we went to, for the first time in my life as a woman I was approached by a good looking man who wanted to socialize. Since I was in a city I knew nothing about and with acquaintances who were about to call a taxi and leave, I decided to turn his advances down and leave. I often wonder what would have happened if I had stayed. What sort of opportunity if any, did I miss?

 Most likely, the second opportunity I did take advantage of was when suddenly I decided I had had enough of cross dressing and wanted to follow my gender instincts even further. It was the night I was determined to go out and blend in with a group of young professional women at an upscale bar/restaurant I had frequented several times as my male self. More than anything else, I wanted to see if I could blend in with the group as a transgender woman and enjoy myself. Perhaps what I remember most about the evening was how scared I was as I waited in the parking lot constantly checking my hair and makeup before I gathered the courage to go into the venue. As it turned out, opportunity did knock that night. I enjoyed myself after I could take a normal breath again and I knew my life as a casual cross dresser was gone forever. I needed new horizons to conquer as a novice transgender woman.

As I settled into attempting to find my way as a trans woman in the world, I tried to try different venues and situations to deal with. Some were successful, some were not. The ones which I can remember the most were the times I tested going to more or less red-neck country venues. I quickly discovered I wasn't welcome and moved on quickly but not before the cops were called on me a couple of times. No opportunity to succeed in those places for sure and I never went back.

Perhaps the biggest opportunity which came knocking at my door was when I had the chance to begin gender affirming hormones or HRT. At my age of sixty, I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to harm myself, so I took the proper precautions and sought out a doctor to prescribe the medications I had waited for so long. Fortunately for me my health proved not to be an issue and I was given minimum dosages to get me started. Seemingly, my body took to the hormones like I always should have been on them and new changes started almost immediately. In no time at all, I was moved up to a higher dosage and my new changes took over my body. So much so, I needed to move up my transition timetable when my hair started to take off and grow along with my softening skin and protruding breasts. 

Then, the most unexpected opportunity happened when I met my current wife Liz on line nearly fourteen years ago. At my age and transgender history, I was prepared to spend the rest of my life alone and especially never expected to ever be married again. Opportunity was telling me to never say never and here I am.

I have a very hard head however and many times opportunity had to knock loudly to get my attention. Often because I was stuck with life changing conditions where I could lose everything. I tried to fall back on my inner self and hope for the best and finally I let her lead me the right direction. 

Making the Difficult Easier

Image from the
Jessie Hart archives.

I spent years and years admiring every aspect of how women and the girls around me conducted their lives. I was dazzled by how they moved and interacted with the world. 

On so many levels, I wished I could be just like them but for so many reasons I could not. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the shackles of my pre-ordained male existence In order to survive in a male world, I needed to copy and succeed at being a guy. All of made the dramatic gender transition I was about to make later in life that much more difficult. 

As I moved from a cross dressing mirror into the real world, I discovered the feminine gender had so many other layers to their life's than I ever imagined. So much more than merely looking like a woman which turned out to be the way I could slightly open my closet door to the world. When I worked my way past the first layer of cis-gender women I faced in clothing stores and malls, then the hard work started. 

All of a sudden, I found myself in a position where I needed to communicate with the public as a novice transgender woman. In the past, my second wife had told me repeatedly in no uncertain terms I did not know anything about truly being a woman even though I was becoming fairly competent on looking like one. She was right and I didn't understand it. 

One vicious argument comes to mind from when we lived in the New York  City metro area and happened the day after I went to a transvestite mixer. What happened was, I needed to show my identification card showing I was really a male to even get in. For the next couple of days, I was on a massive ego trip which led to a big fight with my wife. It led to her comment I still vividly remember when she said I made a "terrible" woman. I could not believe she could say it after I had almost been refused admission to a cross dresser party for looking too much like a woman. When I told her my problem with what she said, she promptly told me, she wasn't referring to my appearance. From then on, I was determined to find out what she meant. It was difficult to do because my wife did not particularly care for my feminine side, so I was on my own.

It was only easier when years later I was able to break out of my old male bonds and be able to finally play in the girls sandbox. Along the way, I had learned the power of non-verbal communication between women as well as surviving the effects of passive aggression when I had to guard my back from smiling faces. When I did, my mental health improved along with my self confidence as a transgender woman. I came to realize (with help from my friends) while I could never be a cis-gender woman, I could be a proud transgender person. I achieved my womanhood through a different path but I made it. My presence in the group just made it more diverse and nobody questioned me about my past.  

In order to do it, I needed to reverse years and years of male life. Moving like a woman needed to become my primary goal since I was never going back. Also very difficult was how I was speaking to the world. I did my best to mimic the women around me and even took vocal lessons for awhile. Eventually all the work came together and I became confident in my abilities to survive in the feminine life I had always dreamed of. 

More than Meets the Eye?

Another dynamic of being in the public eye as a transgender woman  comes from whom I'm with. My girlfriend is a lesbian who is not shy at all about showing any public affection.
Of course my normal reaction to people staring is they are judging me.  More than once or twice I have been told "how do you know just what the hell they are judging?" Two perceived lesbians or a trans woman and a woman or what?

Early in our public ventures, I was a little shy on the "public affection" but like everything else I finally said to hell with it.
In fact as I look forward to embracing the future as my body continues to feminize, attending LGBT pride events as two women seems like great fun.

All of this is yet another twist on my trans journey I didn't foresee. At one point of time I tried to come up with a "connect the dots" post. I was going to attempt to make some sense of my gender versus my sexuality. As you may know though, logic is not my strong point. My idea of logic is "it exists-so go with it."
If you want to slap the "trans-lesbian" tag on me or even say this is yet another sign that I'm am over active cross dresser that's fine.

I care about the label's about much as I do the stares. That's a surprise...right?

Aussie Transgender Story

This is far from a new story. In fact it is from 2010 but it bears revisiting.

It actually came from "AsiaOne's" Diva site for women and features Ms Chelsey Mikimoto who was born in Singapore to a Malay-Dutch mother and a Chinese- Japanese father. She migrated with her family to Australia in the mid-90s at age 10.

Much of her story sounds familiar: "Although born biologically male, Ms Mikimoto said that she never identified with being one. Growing up, she liked girlie things. She dreamed of parading in beautiful gowns and experimented with her mother's make-up and clothes. One Christmas, she placed her name on the Barbie doll meant for a female cousin.
 She had visited a psychiatrist who diagnosed her with gender identity dysphoria - a condition in which individuals identify emotionally and psychologically with the other gender. For five years before the surgery, she lived as a woman. During that time, she underwent hormone replacement therapy to feminise her facial and bodily features. Other than physical changes, she also took the time to "greatly reflect" on what it meant to have the gender change."

I haven't been able to find much recent information on her, so I hope all is well!

So Much for Predictions

I am really glad the election is over and my home state of Ohio didn't screw it up for the country. For what ever reason, Florida wants to keep that title. I could be cynical and say they still could be voting there  for all I know. More realistically they at the least are still counting!  Doesn't matter,  we still have an official winner-on time.

Also on time is my body shifting back to a little higher feminizing mode. I have been back on the summer dosage of hormones  for the last week  As I wrote before I had to cut back to a smaller dosage as I waited for the VA to work their magic. Now my breasts are getting a little sorer again so life is good.

In the life goes on department in Cyrsti's Condo...Let's see, playing with my big hair over the top "drag" look was fun.
My heart is still going out to all those poor folks on the East Coast who are still powerless and now are getting yet another storm.
Finally I still recoil and get physically ill at the sight of Rude Paul.

It doesn't seem possible the holiday season is almost here too.  It's a time of fun with family and friends but at the same time the loneliest time of the year for some in the transgender community rejected by those close to them.

Plus, let's not forget the Mayans predicted this was it anyhow. So I need to get ready.

Female Bonding

Every now and then I will run into a genetic female who wants to chat about my transgender status.
At some point in the conversation, she will want to know what I think are the biggest changes I have been through and what I have felt about them. Know she will. It's all good. Just bonding with the girls.
The answers are easy.  We go down the feminine checklists of skin, breasts, moods etc.
Then the fun starts. The next round of questions involves periods, bloating, and hot flashes. AND
it's all well and good to feminize your body BUT what about not experiencing monthly periods, bloating, PMS etc.
What can I say?
My simple answer is "only females bleed".
Never have had a menstrual period...never will. It is a deal breaker with them? Not usually if they are grounded human beings. This point is always a great spot to toss in-  gender is between the ears and sex is between the legs factoid and a female is not necessarily a woman.
Bottom line: Has it made my life easier or harder than theirs since I didn't bleed? Can't tell you.