The Hustle and Bustle of Christmas as a Transgender Woman

 

Image from Clarke Sanders
on UnSplash.

Doing the Christmas shopping shuffle as a transgender woman, often takes a lot of courage and confidence to do it.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have written about my holiday adventures leading up to the big day. From taking a short trip to Clifton Mill to view their extensive, festive lighting display all the way to letting two men load my heavy purchase for me at an Oak furniture store, I stretched the boundaries of what I was used to as a new cross dresser or trans woman in public. After it was all said and done, even though I was terrified most of the time, I was happy I tried it all. I came out of doing the Christmas shuffle with much more confidence in my girl self than I had going into the season.

In fact, as I have written before, Christmas quickly outpaced Halloween as my favorite holiday. Why? There were several factors, such as the length of the season and the creativity I could put into celebrating it. Plus, for once, I was doing good for others by buying gifts for them as I shopped. I positively loved it and wondered where the experience had been most of my life.

If you are a procrastinator and last-minute gift shopper like I was, doing the Christmas shuffle as a transgender woman is ideal for you. As you can get lost in the crowds quite easily and no one pays attention to a single woman out doing her late shopping. Custom made for you to do your shuffle and head back home.

I was fortunate when my second wife left her bookkeeping job and took a managerial position at a large bookstore chain. So, at Christmas, she was very busy and worked many hours. It was easy for me to schedule my hours around hers, so I had plenty of time to get out of the house and do gift shopping. I could obsess on wearing just the right outfit to blend in with a busy world and at the same time, search for just the right gift. Along the way also, I could stop in and grab a bite to eat at a restaurant and again stretch my ability to deal one on one with the world as a transfeminine person. Yet another reason, I came to prefer Christmas over Halloween because I hoped I was not perceived as a man wearing a costume, or worse yet some sort of drag queen.

As the big day approached, the sky was the limit for me. I did my shuffle as much as finances allowed and stockpiled my gifts for my special night where I stayed home with some high-powered eggnog and wrapped my treasures to go under the tree if they would fit. Of course, my wife was close to being a professional gift wrapper and I was just the opposite. But as the eggnog kicked in, I did not care, and besides it was the thought that counted. Right?

Finally, the big day arrived and I was shuffled out. Plus, we had family connections to visit all day on Christmas day. My thoughts for once were in other places than doing my precious shuffle which I had learned so much from. After the day wound down and my wife and I were alone, we opened the final gifts from each other. Which included a gift for my feminine self. I will forever remember a nice fancy fuzzy baby blue sweater she gifted me. It was snug fitting and I filled it out nicely with my new silicone breast forms I received from a cross-dresser acquaintance of mine who was purging. Naturally, that part of our gift giving day was the part of the day which was the most anticipated for me. I was like a little kid, brimming with anticipation.

Every year after the intense transgender Christmas shuffle was over, I had the chance to sit back and reflect on all my experiences and what they meant. Without hesitation, I think the confidence I built up from going out in the world as my trans self was the most important aspect of what happened to me. I learned what it meant to blend in with ciswomen around me and survive better than I ever could before. I also discovered the vast majority of the world did not and does not care about having a transgender person in their midst. The biggest difference is that back then, we did not have a Russian asset in the White House leading his blind, spineless party into demonizing a small portion of the population. Back then, I was merely a curiosity to many people, especially ciswomen.

When my second wife passed away, the need to do the major Christmas shuffle went with her too. The only blood family I had left was a brother and a daughter to worry about at all during the holidays. When I came out to them, I was roundly rejected by my brother and completely accepted by my daughter and her family. So, I broke even and even did better when I considered the relationship, I was able to build up with my daughter, son-in-law and three grandchildren. I won the family coming out shuffle in a big way.

Even still, sometimes I miss the hustle and bustle of doing the transgender Christmas shuffle as over the years, I have gone nearly the entire direction in the other way. It is hard to say what I miss most but it probably having the financial resources to buy basically as many gifts as I could afford might be it.  Maybe it all came from having a guilty conscience from sneaking out of our house to join the world as my authentic true self instead of my old boring male self and breaking the pledge, I gave my wife that I never would.

Whatever the case, I was extremely selfish and was a contradiction when I did it to buy gifts for others. I guess it fit in with the whole contradiction I felt from my deep-set gender dysphoria to begin with. I dealt with it all the best I could, did my Christmas gender shuffle and moved on with my life making the most of it.

 

 

Earning my Way into the Sandbox of Women

 

Image from Juli
Kosalapova on
UnSplash.

I call being accepted in the feminine world of ciswomen around me, as being able to play in their sandbox.

Getting a chance was similar to living a dream and very difficult for me to do. To begin with, I needed to lose whatever weight I could off of my very male dominate frame and take better care of my skin, so I could use less makeup. I desperately wanted to be pretty but accomplished it as naturally as I could. Motivation to do both came easily for me because I was obsessed with doing something very well in life that I cared so deeply about. Surprising even myself, I was able to shed nearly fifty pounds as well start moisturizing daily after I shaved. Obviously, the weight loss helped more dramatically when I could shop for a better selection of stylish women’s clothes in my new size and the decrease in makeup I needed spoke for itself when I presented better in the world.

Even with those positive results behind me, I was still very naïve and had very little knowledge of what I would have to do to be let in to play in the sandbox by the alpha female gatekeepers. As my second wife was always fond of telling me after major fights, we had that I made a terrible woman. Then she added she was not talking about appearance. Which was good since I had just had situations where I was mistaken for a ciswoman to back me up. Then I was confused, if it was not my feminine appearance holding me back, what was it? What would make me a better woman after all.

From that point on, I set out on a mission to understand what she was telling me but I had a major drawback…I was still living the vast majority of my life as a man and as such, ciswomen would not allow me back behind the gender curtain. For the most part, I was stuck in my part-time cross-dressing ways until I could find a better way out. The sandbox remained a faraway dream.

The main problem remained. My male ego would not easily let me pull down my male defenses to see and learn what really went on in a women’s world which operated quite nicely with or without male influence. For the longest time, he (me) refused to listen to women the best he could to learn what they were really saying when he was stuck playing the game behind the gender border. I felt as if I was in East-Germany behind the Berlin wall of gender. I knew I wanted to escape but did not have the willpower to do it. I was a victim to my newly discovered transgender hopes and dreams. At that point, I still had not realized how far behind my gender dreams being a victim made me and I still felt sorry for myself because of all my gender dysphoric issues.

As I always point out, it was not until I began to experience my version of womanhood in the public’s eye did anything begin to change for me. All the effort I put into my appearance came back to help me get my high heeled foot in the door with other women. Then the real work began when I needed to communicate and interact with them. What happened was many other ciswomen were encountering me on a regular basis in the venues where I always went, so I needed to develop a stable feminine persona to go with my appearance. What would I call myself and what wigs would I wear every time I went out are prime examples of what I am talking about. I was getting to the point where I was staring my forties in the eye and I knew I was not getting any younger and in the back of my mind, I had a sneaking suspicion that I had lived my life all wrong up to this point.

Rather than bemoan all of the mistakes or missed opportunities I had as a male, I needed to face the fact I was wasting my time as a male anyhow because I was always meant to be female. I went home and wrote in my secret diary that I was not a man cross dressing as a woman; I was a woman doing her best to cross dress as a man and build a life on a house of cards.

The realization of my true gender status enabled me to be my real self to the public and ciswomen responded well to my truthful gender identity. Even if they were curious what I was doing in their world and why I wanted to play in their sandbox and work my way into coveted woman only spaces. Finally, I was coming to the point where I could think I achieved my own womanhood, just in a different way than most ciswomen. I was still relevant to the world and should be allowed to play in the sandbox.

Another big lesson I learned was that once I was in the sandbox, I needed to work harder to stay. One slip up back to my old male self, and I would be labeled an impostor and barred from the box. Faced with the task of starting all over again. To the best of my ability, all of my feminine mannerisms, interactions and vocalizations had to be perfect. I was so afraid most of the time until I finally began to relax and have confidence in myself.

The best part about the entire process was I survived to write about it and hopefully to inspire others in this very trying, difficult time to be a transgender woman to make it also. We all have differing yet similar paths to make it to the women’s sandbox. Just don’t expect the process to be all positive and you can make it by hopefully finding ciswomen who knowingly or unknowingly help you along. Those minor claw marks you might receive like I did down my back were just learning marks and helped me along. More than the women scratching me ever knew.

They helped me to earn my way into playing in the women’s sandbox. The claw marks just equated out to the stripes I earned when I was in the Army.

 

 

 

 

More Downs than Ups on the Gender Roller Coaster

 

Image from Pietra K. 
from UnSplash.

The gender rollercoaster of life was very real to me.

That is the reason I attempt to mention all of the ups and downs I have experienced over the years as I battled gender dysphoria. For me, the trip up the coaster was not often worth the trip down as my depression set in. Until I received the proper care for my depression, I would often not want to even get out of bed for days at a time. Of course, I could not do that, and life would have to go on. That life included an increasing interest in cross-dressing. When I was on an upswing, life was better and I thought I was even making strides towards possibly living my future dream of living in and competing with a world of cisgender women. All of which had a very large headstart on me towards possibly achieving their womanhood before I could.

All this turmoil sent me down the rollercoaster of life and right back to where I started from…deeply frustrated. It was not until I began to leave my closet or shell and explore the world, did I begin to experience any relief. In the world, I discovered that not everyone noticed me and it was true what my second wife told me that it was not all about me. I was relieved when I learned that most of the world was just living life on their own terms and outside of few haters, I could live my life too. It was when I discovered that I was able to ride the level part of my dysphoric roller coaster, for a while.  

It never failed that when I started to come off the flat spot of my coaster, I needed to fight my depression again. Nothing I was doing was good enough as a man or a woman. I was so involved in wanting a transfeminine future, I could not maintain a good solid relationship with my long term (25 years) wife. The only things I was doing was keeping my head above water at work as I carved out the beginnings of a new transgender life. While I did all of this, I managed to make myself miserable as well as those around me. If I could not live with myself, how could anyone else, was my main thought pattern as I rode the roller coaster of life. All I knew was, I needed to hang on tightly for the ride ahead.

Of course, you all know I did manage to hang on, or I would not be here writing this today. Many times, it was because deep down inside I had this unmistakable idea of what I was doing was right. I had waited a long time in line to ride this gender rollercoaster, and I was not ever going to give up my spot. Once I came to this conclusion, I was able to stand in line with other ciswomen and not be so intimidated. And they were less intimidated by me and the rollercoaster hit another exhilarating turn as it headed into a tunnel. This time though, coming out of the dark did not mean I was heading into so much depression. Still, I knew I had a lot of work to do before I could reach my goal or dreams of living a fulltime transgender life.

Every time I thought I had finished a ride on the roller coaster, I found I needed to turn right around and get right on. A ciswoman’s life was so much more complicated than I had ever planned for, there were more challenges ahead. I still had key decisions to make concerning how I was going to live my new life. Such as how I was going to support myself and what was I going to do about telling my remaining family and friends that all along I had been living a lie. Last but not least, I would take the major step of seeking out approval to begin HRT or gender affirming hormones.

Amazingly, each time I jumped on the roller coaster, my rides became shorter and less eventful. I had taken the time and effort to set myself up as a regular in certain venues I went to all the time, so I did not have to go out just to be alone. I was always a social animal as a man and now I was too in my new exciting feminine world. Most importantly, I was able to develop a small circle of ciswomen friends who unknowingly boarded the coaster with me. They showed me the final steps I would have to take to get off my lifetime ride permanently. Maybe the best part was they never knew what they did for me. Eventually, what came out of it all was my marriage to my third wife Liz. A lesbian ciswoman who was instrumental in kicking me off my roller coaster permanently.

Even though I was ultimately successful in reaching my transgender dreams, I am not so sure I would recommend how I did it to anyone. I took too many chances and consumed too much alcohol along the way. Often, I used alcohol to give me a false sense of security when I was riding a scary coaster. Those were the days when I had to internalize my emotions and fear and “be a man.”

Finally, and thankfully, the world around me changed and I stepped down off my roller coasters all the way to less intimidating merry go rounds. Even they didn’t last as I decided to leave the gender amusement park altogether. Truthfully, I never got much of anything which was amusing anyway, and on some occasions, bigots and haters even put me into the freak category. Sadly, I never won any prizes for the most rides on a roller coaster or had a chance to reach for the ring on the merry go round. I was at least a survivor. I did not have to be a man at all.

For Better or for Worse

 

JJ Hart. 

In this case, for better or for worse should not be totally applied to the state of a transgender person’s marriage. Although, it often is.

In this case, I am talking about what happens when we attempt to break out of our dark, lonely gender closets and enter the world. I write long and often concerning the struggles I had when I first tried to come out of my mirror and appear in front of the public as my authentic feminine self. By doing so, I quickly learned I was in over my head as a novice transgender woman or even a cross-dresser. Even worse, I had my second wife telling me I had no idea of what it was like to really be a woman. Even though I was stubborn and did not totally believe her, I set out to discover what she was trying to tell me. The worse part when I tried to find out more about cisgender women was, I was not prepared to go behind the gender curtain to find out what was going on. In reality, I was years away from having the experiences of knowing what my wife was talking about.

At that time, I was still obsessed with how I made my male to female transition appearance wise. All I need to do is go back through all my old blog posts to see how vain I was about how I looked like a cross-dresser and how it dominated my life. As I focused on every little aspect of my appearance. At first, it was all great fun before I began to focus on a higher goal. Something kept telling me I was going to have to do more than just look like a woman to ever satisfy my gender dysphoria which would not leave me alone. As I wiped the makeup off, I sadly knew my male life awaited me again. I so badly wanted off the gender merry-go-round I was on then get on with my life.

It helped a little bit when I finally came to the conclusion, I was more than a weekend cross-dresser and fit the definition of a transgender woman perfectly. All of a sudden, my life had some sort of a meaning it had been lacking. I began gaining access to cisgender woman spaces I had been denied in the past and I was able to see what my wife was talking about. Or I was paying my dues to achieving womanhood on my terms. The better of for worse began to sneak in when I found all the negatives I would have to learn as a transfeminine person. Primarily when my male privileges were taken away and I lost all my personal security I had taken for granted my entire life. And the easy access I had to just going to the rest room as a man. Going as a woman, was such a different experience I could (and have) written complete blog posts about my experiences.

The better part of all of this was, I did not have to put up with the male drama that most ciswomen go through in their lives. I was a prime example of a terrible male partner for my wives to live with. Time and time again, I tried to not be selfish with my desire to be a woman and have it destroyed our entire relationship. The worse of the better or worse was when I became completely jealous that my wives could live as women and I could not. I just could not help myself. Plus, when I came out fully and transitioned I did it in the company of ciswomen who I was used to and did not ever have to adjust to male drama again. I am now married to a ciswoman lesbian who I have been with happily for over a decade now.

I was fortunate when my best transition plans worked out as well as they did. I love it when a plan comes together and even though it was a blind plan, somehow it still came together. It helped when my feminine inner soul was able to take over and run my life. She had been waiting for years, not so patiently wanting her turn to live. She provided the backbone and comfort I needed to move forward in the latter stages of my male to female gender transition.

What I considered a burden, and the worse part of my life, turned into the best part of my life when I was able to experience my impossible dream of living as a transgender woman.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Thanks to You

 

Image from Priscilla Dupreez 
on UnSplash. 

As another Thanksgiving approaches, it is time again to give thanks to all of you.

I know the holidays are a difficult and lonely time for many of us in the transgender community and many of us have reached out to non-blood acquaintances to fill the void we lost from an unapproving family. I make no secret of the problems I faced with my only brother on Thanksgiving over a decade ago.

I was just coming out of my gender dysphoric closet and needed to tell what was left of my family about my desire to live as a woman. It just so happened; my timing was perfect as the holidays were right around the corner. Rather than just show up as my transgender self, I decided to do the right thing and ask my brother and sister-in-law if they still wanted me to come to dinner. I was quite naïve at the time and was riding the high I felt when I received an all-out acceptance from my daughter.

I should have known better when the Thanksgiving door was rudely slammed in my face and I was told it was best not to come. I should have known better that my brother would not stand up for me in the face of strong disapproval from his rightwing Southern Baptist in laws. Pressure was thicker than blood with him and we both went on our separate ways. I have not talked to him since and have not missed the interaction.

As I said, my daughter, along with my future wife Liz stepped up in a major way. Not only was I invited to one family function, but I was also invited to two and I had plenty of turkey to eat.

I hope something like my experience has happened to you. Perhaps in the meantime, you have found non-blood friends to fill the family void you lost from rejection. Sadly, Liz’s dad has passed away and her only brother wants nothing to do with Thanksgiving, so the only dinner we are going to is at my daughter’s mother-in-law's up in Dayton, Ohio. For the first time in many years, her son is supposed to come along so it will make it a family get together.

In many ways, I feel as though I have all you regular visitors to the blog as family also. As you have read along with me, I feel you know more about me than most anyone else. In fact, my daughter set me up with a book writing subscription service so I could write about my life to my family after I am gone. I am at question number eighty-one so far.

I hope in many ways; this beginning of the holiday season brings a festive start for all of you. If you are traveling, be careful and make it safely to your destination.

Once again, thank you for joining me here for my journey no matter where you are.

 

 

 

Stopping was Never an Option

 

Image from Josiah Niklas
on UnSplash.

Very early on, during my very confusing crossdressing years, I wondered if I could just stop the madness of wanting to change my gender as I grew older. I did not know at the time that stopping would not be an option.

As I grew older, my desire to be a pretty girl (then a woman) grew with me. The more I cross-dressed in front of the mirror, the better I became at the basics of makeup and whatever fashion I could get my hands on. Plus, the better I became, the more I wanted to do more to improve myself. Increasingly I knew stopping and purging all my feminine clothes was never going to be an option even though I tried and tried. At that point, I tried a clumsy attempt to come out to a couple friends I had but was rudely rejected. I needed to return to internalizing all my feelings of wanting to be a girl if I was to survive in my world. Which was cruel and unusual punishment for me and more importantly, my fragile mental health. I was already stuck in long periods of depression before I was diagnosed as being bi-polar by a therapist I went to as I grew up and away from my parents.

When I did move away to college, I actually lost my desire to cross dress and act like a girl for almost a year. I did not know how to act when stopping all of a sudden became an option.

Of course, before I knew it, my gender dysphoria came creeping back into my life. I then needed to build my wardrobe fashion, undergarments and makeup all from scratch. I vividly remember the trigger object which started it all. My future fiancé for some reason, found a short wig to cover her long straight hair, and tried to surprise me with it. I was not pleased and let her know it. I then set out to get her a wig I liked. Funds were tight as I worked at a small radio station where I went to college, but I managed to scrape together the money to buy a beautiful long blond wig I had seen in the window of a beauty shop in my hometown. Under the guise of buying, it for her, I had really wanted it for myself. As luck would have it, she did not like it, and I was able to “inherit” the wig when we separated years later.

I kept the wig until I joined the Army for my Vietnam War tour of duty and beyond, as I was able to hide it away on the rare occasions, I could use it to “top” off my outfit when I cross-dressed. Even with all the traveling I was doing with “Uncle Sam” I still was able to anchor myself with the belief that stopping my idea of being a woman was not a fairy tale and could still be possible someday.

It wasn’t until I seriously began to explore the public’s perspective of me as a newly minted transgender woman, did the world start to change and I knew nothing that I was trying in my new world was going to change…ever. Even still, ever became a big word for me as I hit a series of roadblocks to become a full-fledged transfeminine person. Just when it seemed I was moving in the right direction, something would come along and temporarily stop me. At that time, through all the roadblocks, I finally realized I could see my dream of living like a woman was certainly not an option and it would be a shame to waste all the time and effort I put into my path.

I also needed to make the final decisions I would need to successfully put my male life behind me. What I would do about supporting myself and coming out to my remaining family became very important decisions. My only child (daughter) made it easy on me because she accepted me totally. While on the other hand I was rejected by my only sibling (brother) and we became estranged. My parents, second wife and most of my friends that mattered had passed away which made my coming out process easier. One way or another, I had decided to go my own way no matter what anyone thought.

If I had realized earlier that stopping my male to female gender transition was never an option, life would have been so much easier for me. I would have been allowed to live the best I could, make all my mistakes earlier and achieve my ultimate dream sooner. Rather than stubbornly hanging on to a male life I was born into but never wanted.

 

 

 

Completing Myself

JJ Hart doing Transgender Outreach Speech

I knew very early on in life that just cross-dressing as a girl in front of the mirror was not going to complete me in many ways. There just had to be more if I was risking my life as I knew it as a boy to dress as close as I could as a pretty girl.

Sadly, I had to ignore my gender truths, went on living life as a boy successfully and learned how to internalize my gender dysphoria. It all came back to haunt me later in life when the effects set in to my already frail mental health. Especially when I had started to go out more and more in public as a self-proclaimed transgender woman and I really put off hiding who I was to the most important person to me who was myself. I refused to make the changes needed to make myself whole for the first time in my life.

In the kindest words available, gender dysphoria was hell for me in my life. What made it so bad was when I applied my makeup correctly, I could actually see what could have been possible in life if I had not had to struggle with my gender identity. What made matters worse was when those brief moments of gender clarity were ripped away when I needed to go back to my male world. In other words, I never allowed myself to be made whole in my life until much later.

What had to happen first was the all-out decision made to do it. I was very cautious in the moves I made because I had so much at risk in my life. Losing my wife, family and job all weighed heavily into my decision. All the time and effort my male self-put into building a successful life would be wasted.  In so many ways  I was in a bad space which I think is humorous for anyone to think I ever had a choice in my battle with gender dysphoria. It was stopping me from being whole and living my life to the fullest.

While all of this was going on, I was attempting to learn as much as I could about living as a transfeminine person. I was going out every spare moment I could in the world to see if I could make it at all. And when I did, I knew I felt increasingly natural, and something was going to have to change in my life if I was to go on living. What happened was I loved the feminine world I was in and even though I experienced several rough spots, I knew I wanted (and needed) to learn more about my own form of womanhood. As I like to say, I was essentially starting from point zero and had everything to learn about feminine existence. Especially an existence where not everyone accepted me. Amazingly most everyone did and I was able to ignore the rest.

As the challenge of turning my life over to my feminine side and living a fulltime transgender existence, again the stress on me increased. Should I go through the process of being approved for gender affirming hormones of HRT was a major hurdle to cross. It would represent to me a final step in making me whole. If the hormones did what I thought they would, and everything I read about also. Even though I knew I could still go off the HRT is something went wrong, nothing ever did, and my body took to them like I should have been born this way.

It did turn out to be the final big step I took to combine my inner Yin and Yang gender selves and make myself a whole productive person. When I found out what I was missing, I had wished I had tried to make myself whole years before I faced the reality of my life and moved forward. Now I know what I did but it is way too late to make up for lost time for me at my advanced age of seventy-six.

Now seems to be the time to (no pun intended) transition into some busy work I have to bring up. The first is, there will be no blog post tomorrow because I am going to my trifecta of medical appointments. Tomorrow is my hematology appointment at the big Cincinnati Veterans Medical Center. It is my yearly visit when they check all sorts of blood related issues such as my all-important estradiol. I just hope it comes out as good as the last major trip to the vampires and my recent eye appointment last week. My eyes were the same as they were several years ago and I did not even need new eyeglasses. The third part of the trifecta won’t be until February when I go for my annual mammogram. So there is a lot going on. When I made my life whole. 

Transgender Dreams

 

Image from Maximus Beaumont
on UnSplash.

Over the years, I experienced slow progress towards achieving my transgender background which I refused to accept.

What I did to exist with my gender dysphoria was to cross dress when I could, all the way to attending Halloween parties completely dressed as a woman every year. When I did, I could judge the reactions of the public to me. Eventually though, the part-time cross-dressing and annual Halloween parties were not enough. Which led me to explore more and more the world as a novice transgender woman. Being a novice, I suffered too many bumps and bruises as my world changed from male to female. Primarily because my male ego was suffering at the abuse he was taking when he tried to give up control to my long hidden feminine self. He thought wearing ultra short mini skirts would be enough to gain acceptance into a female world.

When just the opposite happened, he needed to grudgingly give up more and more control in my life so I could progress and even briefly thrive as a transgender woman. When I started to look around at other women around me and began to blend in with them, I started to be successful in my life.  In fact, I was too successful at times when I started to be accepted in the world. I began to look for more places to go to see if I could progress my life as a transgender woman. Keep in mind, at that time, living a life as a transfeminine person was still a distant dream. Fortunately, I was receiving enough positive feedback to keep moving.

I discovered most of the world did not care about me, even though I felt all eyes were on me as a woman. Women were looking me up and down to see what made me tick while at the same time, for the most part, men were ignoring me because I was not that attractive. I started to progress in my new gender when I began to have confidence in myself knowing the world could get over it when and if I ran into any problems I could survive. At the same time, I was improving my wardrobe and makeup skills, which helped me to improve my life as a transgender woman. All of a sudden, I realized I could achieve my dream of living in a feminine world, but I still had a long way to go.

Progression began to happen much more quickly, even though I had roadblocks on my path in areas such as communication. Naturally I knew women had an entirely different way of communicating than men. Direct communication was out, and passive indirect communications were in. I needed to learn quickly how to look another woman in the eye and try to judge what she was thinking about me.

Through it all, I had a wife and very active male life to deal with. Neither wanted me to succeed in my dream life.  At certain points of time, the noise of life around me was deafening and neither would step up to help me as I was trying to adjust to a new scary existence. I was alone. I thought. But I wasn’t, I had my long hidden feminine self to step up and help me. She took over as if she had never been forced into the background her entire life. She led me to be the person I should have always been.

I was able to progress through the final steps I needed to make to succeed. The combination of women friends, experience and hormones (HRT) provided me with the final push to shove my male self into the closet for good. Even still, the final decision to give all my male clothes away took a lot of thought. Finally, one night, I could take the pressure no longer and needed to make the move to live my dream. When I did, the pressure was off, and I had a new lease on life. Once I lifted the weight I had carried for so long, I was a new person and had progressed towards my dream. I also wondered what took me so long to make the move. Fifty years of cross-dressing and testing the world was far too long and my mental health suffered because of it.

Finally, I made the choices which should have been obvious to me all the time and decided to reach out and grasp my transgender dreams.

 

 

Why Would I do this to Myself?

 

JJ Hart, Club Diversity
Columbus, Ohio.

Even though it has been years since I have been asked the question which asks why I am transgender, I withheld all my sarcastic comments such as I found my gender dysphoria in the bottom of a cereal box and thought of a concise truthful answer.

The truth is I had always known but was afraid to accept it. In the meantime, I set out on a slow, often torturous process to reach my impossible dream. To all the naysayers I interacted with, I just wanted to say, if I was not serious about switching male to female lives, why would I do this to myself. I knew early on I brought a lot of the problems with the public I faced on myself because of my novice attempts at presenting myself to blend into society with other women. I was coming off like a clown in drag, rather than someone who was seriously trying to jump the gender border from male to female. I was not playing around.

As my old male ego suffered, my feminine ego persisted and finally I did better in the world. I think too, the world took me seriously for the first time and did not have to ask the “why” question. I discovered too, that most of the world was just doing their thing and could care less about me if I could just blend. As I did blend in and began to carve out a new life for myself, the “why” of what I was doing became more personal and pressure packed. I was risking a successful male life I had worked hard to achieve, in order to live a new life which was so scary and at the same time felt so natural. I was having fewer people ask me why I was doing this transgender trip to myself.

Which brings up the question why any of us would transition ourselves if we were not desperate to do it. As an example, my own personal example was all the self-destructive behavior I put myself through including suicide and alcohol abuse. I was a living example of why I would do all of this to myself to be a transfeminine person. I was serious about what I was doing and needed to continue up the gender path I was on.

What helped me too was when I began to see the same people more than once. Since I was easy to remember, strangers began to put a name to my face, and I began to become a regular in several of the straight venues I went to. I just followed my tried-and-true idea of if I was friendly, did not cause any trouble and tipped well, I would be welcomed repeatedly.

The farther I went along my gender path, I began to wonder what sort of a transphobic gender bigot or female TERF would even question why a transgender person does what they do. Such as making all the sacrifices we must make to live the life we desire such as risk losing family, spouses and employment. Slicing off a major part of our life and starting over is intimidating enough without the naysayers questioning it.

On the other hand, there were things I wanted to do to help my feminine transition along such as losing nearly fifty pounds and beginning to take better care of my skin. Suddenly, I had access to more fashionable clothes which fit better, and my makeup was easier to apply. All because I took the time to take care of my transfeminine self. When I did so, even the haters I still encountered needed to get over it because I was more secure in myself. Even though I was increasingly successful in the world as a transgender woman, humans are like sharks, and every now and then I needed to fend off any unwelcome attention I might have attracted.

Possibly, the most important answer to the “why” question came when I decided to seek a doctor’s help and begin gender affirming hormones. Naturally, the decision on HRT was a major one and not a decision to be taken lightly. At the time I started hormones, I was leading a healthy male life which would have to change. I knew all along, I had come too far on my gender path to turn back now and quickly learned I had made the right decision to start HRT. My life blossomed as never before, and I never missed my old male body and emotions again.

By this time, I had married Liz and settled into a transgender dream world I never thought I could achieve. I guess I was to the point of if I could dream it and could do it. Which is a topic for another blog post altogether.  Plus, I had answered the question once and for all of why I wanted to do this to myself. It was fulfilling my own personal destiny.

 

Out od Sight...Out of Mind?

 

My wife Liz on left and daughter on right.

Most if not all transgender women and trans men go through phases in their life when they think gender issues are out of sight and out of mind. It is not entirely different than the moves some state legislatures (Ohio) are going through to try to erase us in the public’s eye.

If you read my posts at all, you know how I feel about that. Trans people have always been around and always will be. Attempts to erase us will be futile. On a lesser but just as important level, we try to erase ourselves by purging our lives too. I know the guilt of being a cross dresser or transgender woman became too much for me to handle and I threw out most of my treasured feminine wardrobe and makeup. Out of sight, out of mind I thought.

In the long term and the short term, none of my purges worked because I refused to accept my true self. I had my life all backwards and I was not a man who cross dressed as a woman, but a woman who cross dressed as a man. Until I figured it out, I kept trying to hide the obvious. Of course, it did not help as I started with two gender strikes against me. I went through birth as a male and then had to go through male puberty and suffer from what I called testosterone poisoning. My body kept the bullies away and allowed me to play sports but caused me torment when I was in front of the mirror trying to be a pretty girl.

As life went on, I thought for the most part I had learned to live with my gender dysphoria the best I could. To this day, though, I wished I could be a “normal” male. How much better could my life be if I could socialize with the other males around me without feeling as if I was an outsider. I grew tired of being an actor inside my own skin. The only thing I could do was mentally try to get rid of my feminine self. Taking me full circle back to why I was keeping all those clothes, wigs and makeup anyway. It took me by throwing them away to understand exactly what the problem was. It was not a problem unless I it made one, which I was by purging again.

Deep down I knew I was wrong and very shortly I would be re-stocking my fashion and make up to try my best to present feminine again to myself and the world. However, I was very stubborn and my male self-hung on way too long refusing to give up on his hard-earned male privileges. Life could have been much easier by staying where I was in the gender world, but it was just wrong, and I couldn’t. The more I lived as a transgender woman, the more natural I felt, and I never wanted to go back into the male world I had made the best out of.

Increasingly, the male purge was looking to be the one I was going to attempt to make. I was sick of living a gender lie, and I wanted to reverse my idea of living. I wanted to feel “normal” again but this time around a group of cisgender women. Flipping the gender script on my life was the most difficult thing I had ever attempted to do, but somehow, I made it through the female gatekeepers and did it.

In my new transfeminine life, I was rarely out of sight and out of mind. I had a lot of help to do it who I will never forget. I had spent my whole life chasing a dream and had finally achieved it. As I symbolically and literally gave my male clothes to charity, I stopped to remember the entirety of what I was doing. I was giving up the male side who had dominated me for so long. To be sure, he had served me well, but it was time to go, and this final purge was a triumphant one for my transgender woman who had waited so long to live. After all, she had her life taken away several times when she was purged nearly out of existence.

She survived and so did I and everything in her power to make things better. When I worried how I would be perceived in a new world. She had my back when it mattered, and it did. Even in the days when she had to give me quite a bit of tough love. She had to watch me grow through my ill-advised teen cross-dressing years into a presentation I could be proud of or at least satisfied with.

Out of sight, out of mind never worked for me.

 

 

More than Theatrics

 

Christine Jorgensen circa 
early 1950's. 

Deep down I knew being feminine for me was much more than a theatrical exercise dressed in front of the mirror as a girl. I wanted to do more than just look like a girl; I wanted to live like one. I wanted to be the one with the pretty clothes that all the boys admired.

It turned out I was ahead of myself as far as my gender dysphoria was concerned. Gender dysphoria, as well as the term transgender had not yet caught up with the public at large. It was still transvestite, transsexual or Christine Jorgensen or nothing for me as far as having any idea anyone else in the world was like me at all. Perhaps you may not know it, but Jorgensen was supposedly the first widely known transsexual to come out with the very public news of her gender realignment surgery in the early 1950’s.  No theatrics involved, just a lot of publicity, I guess.

I thought of Jorgensen and the gender loneliness I felt the other day when I got to watch “Some Like it Hot” on our local PBS station. I was approximately ten years old when the film was released in 1959 and I remember being mesmerized by the idea men could be women at all. Even still, I don’t think, or remember, if I connected the dots yet to how I was feeling about myself. I was still very much stuck in the everyday struggles of being a boy.

When the internet became popular, I began to discover a whole, wide wonderful world of gender possibilities. Including a term which I had never heard of before, transgender. As I understood the term, it took away all the possible theatrics of just looking like a girl and brought up the possibility of living as one. At that point, I began to wonder if I was a cross dresser at all, and not more. The only thing I thought I knew was I was still in some sort of middle ground as my gender dysphoria went. I felt much more that I was so much more than the average cross-dresser, but not quite there yet as far as I wanted all the surgeries Jorgensen and others were going through.

To maintain any sense of mental stability at all, I began to explore the world the best I could to see if I fit in with this new transgender term I was reading about. My best and exciting evenings came about when I was able to be invited to and attend small diverse parties at a transsexual’s house in nearby Columbus, Ohio. It was there I learned about the dangers of being trapped by a much bigger and powerful man, all the way to being picked up by a lesbian I had never met before. Most importantly though, I was there to observe and learn anything I could from the hostess, a transsexual retired fireperson from Columbus who was headed to surgery. Michelle was beautiful and I was dazzled. I discovered there were no theatrics from her, she was as real as could be and I wondered if I could ever achieve what she had.

The main thing I did learn was, my deep feelings about living as a transfeminine person may not go the same way as Michelle’s did, but it was possible for me to live my own successful life as a woman if I tried hard enough. That is when I learned to put my cross-dressing theatrics away which had served me well and I entered another phase of my life. Michelle was beautiful and exotic in her own way, but I could do it too, just in my own way.

I would be kidding myself and all of you if I said finding my new self was ever easy. I needed to make all the difficult decisions about risking everything in my life which was important to me. Such as a loyal, long-term spouse, family, friends and good employment. The same things we all go through as we struggle to transition as a transgender woman. When I finally decided I needed to go the distance and give all my male clothes to charity, the weight was off from my shoulders to not live a theatrical existence as a man anymore. I spent over fifty years fighting a gender battle I could not win as the cards were stacked against me.

I was able to put all the gender questions I suffered through in my past and build a new transfeminine life the best I could. I just had to quit the theatrics to do it.

 

 

 

 

 

Confidence is your Main Accessory

 

Image from 
Jon Tyson on UnSplash.

Some assume I have reached the point of life I am at, through very few challenges.

The truth is that I faced many challenges along my very long gender journey to living fulltime as a transgender woman. I write about many of them often. As I look back, the one main challenge I faced was having the confidence to move forward to my strong dream. Perhaps the earliest confidence I needed was when I walked down our long driveway dressed as a girl to check the mail. Hoping someone would notice the girl in a miniskirt out of the house on a winter’s day without a coat. Then hoping no one would see me and somehow report me to my parents. Nothing ever happened, so I gained the confidence to keep doing it.

The problem was, there were only so many trips to the mailbox I could take to feel good about my cross-dressed feminine self. Here I was taking all that time and effort to feminize myself and having no outlet except the mirror. I was frustrated in my little closet which I had no idea of how to escape from. I was like a caged animal, I knew I wanted out of the cage, I just didn’t know where to go when I escaped.

As the years passed by, I traded going to the mailbox with a yearly trip to a Halloween party. Even though it took me years to get it right, I finally figured out how to figure out a “costume” which helped me to build my confidence that I could present well enough to get by in the world as a woman. My goal always became to be mistaken for a woman in a costume, not as a man dressed as a woman and I achieved it. From there, my problem became Halloween only happened once a year, and what would I do the rest of the year about my growing gender dysphoria. My final decision was a simple one, if I had the ability to do it. I would have to manufacture my own reasons to sample the world as a novice transgender woman and see if I had the same positive feedback I received on Halloween. I discovered most of the world did not care about how I was dressed, and I gained the confidence to do more.

I made it to the point where I began my “bucket list” of things to do as a transfeminine person. Or could I do other things that women do in their everyday lives and succeed. Every time I did something such as taking myself out to lunch, or negotiating a bookstore and buying a coffee, I checked them off my bucket list and proceeded to move on to more difficult interactions with the public.

Of course, not everything I did was a success. I was told to leave a venue I thought I was a regular in one night when three drunk guys thought it would be fun to play “Dude Looks Like a Lady” on the jukebox over and over again. Initially it hurt me, until I got my confidence back and found another venue right up the street. My success was complete when the crew of the place I was asked to leave found me one night. They told me the manager who told me to leave was fired for drug abuse and they wanted me back. Retribution was mine as well as a real boost to my confidence. It felt good to be wanted as their token transgender woman.

Even so, to this day, I wonder why my confidence is so fragile. In September, my wife Liz and I are taking another bus tour. It’s our fourth one, and this time we are traveling from Ohio to Boston and then up into New England by train. Even though, I have never had any real problems with anyone else on the trip before, in the back of my head I still worry about some right-wing woman questioning my gender and ruining my trip. I am sure I am just paranoid and should be worried about catching Covid again and ending up in another hospital. Which is how our last vacation ended up. Hopefully I can get an updated vaccine just before we go. Which will build that part of my confidence.

The only way I know to build your confidence is to keep being yourself and improving your presentation as a transgender woman or cross dresser if you prefer. Perhaps it will always be fragile like mine is and it is something we always will have to deal with. One thing is for sure; you cannot build it by hiding yourself away. Expect some setbacks and keep moving forward as you are building a new future. It is a huge step forward. Having nice fashion and applying beautiful makeup is wonderful but it all means nothing if you do not have the confidence to pull the picture together. Humans are like sharks and they will know something is wrong if you let them.

 

 

Out in the Testosterone World

Hair by JJ Hart, Beret hand beaded
by "Liz T Designs" 

Just a short post today as I just returned from braving a testosterone heavy environment. More precisely, it was time to get the oil changed in our car, which was slightly overdue. By the time I was done, I wished I had a dime for every tattoo I saw on the completely male staff.

For some reason, any trip to a male dominated (such as auto workplace) has always caused my gender dysphoria to flare up. Even after all these years that I have been out as a transgender woman, I still feel the same trepidation. Which makes me feel even more frustrated with myself.

This morning, as I pulled the car into the next available bay to be serviced, I cannot be sure, but I think the manager called me the dreaded “Sir”. But, as the work progressed, he became increasingly nice to me. I never know if it is the result of age privilege but at least he never called me “Sir” again. Very soon I was on my way to my next stop which was the coffee drive thru for wake-up drinks for my wife Liz and I encountered yet another young man at the drive thru window who was at least honest with me. I asked him how he was doing, and he said he was looking for a cot to lay down on to take a nap. I just looked at him and before I could say anything, he quickly said what I was thinking. He was working in a coffee shop, stop and get a cup to wake up.

One way or another, we made small talk, and I was again on my way, this time back home and he had acted as if nothing was wrong with how I was presenting as a transgender woman.

At least, the short trip out this morning into a potentially difficult world built my confidence up that I could do it again when my wife Liz and I go on an extended vacation to New England in approximately a month. A vacation which will challenge me in many ways including restroom privileges.

The end result of this morning was, I need more public adventures into potentially difficult situations to enable me to build the all important confidence I used to have when I was spending more time in the world.

  

What a Rush!!!

 

Vintage Transvestia Magazine

I encountered a real problem when my cross-dressing urges went from being a real adrenaline rush, all the way down to what I experience now.

I do remember the process did not take so long for me and I should have known then my cross-dressing activities were much more than a harmless innocent hobby I was involved with. If I had the information available to me then which became available later, I would have had an idea I was transgender. Of course, back in those days, the internet had not been invented along with all the social media rooms which came with it. I was in the dark ages of information and was very sure I was alone in the world with my gender desires. I always give credit to “Virginia Prince” and Transvestia Magazine for initially opening my closet door and showing me there were others in the world called transsexuals and transvestites.

During times of depression with my life, I could always fall back to my well-worn issues of Transvestia to lift my spirits. Plus, I discovered groups hosted transvestite mixers in Ohio I could attend with the proper preparation. I was ecstatic! I finally had a chance to meet others like me. Little did I know, I did not get that completely right, but that is another story all together.

In the meantime, I read my brief moments of adrenaline rushes were really called gender euphoria. Regardless of the label, I still had a difficult time controlling mine. Most of my examples come from the time my wife and I moved to the New York City metro area. For some reason, she left me out on my own one night to go to a mixer out on Long Island. Much to my surprise, I had a difficult time being admitted to the mixer by two cisgender women running the door. I asked why I was not being allowed in and they said no real women were allowed and I needed to show them an identification card with a male picture on it to get in. I was shocked and promptly showed them my old male drivers license and had a great time…until the buzz wore off days later. Then, I became mean and difficult to live with because I was feeling sorry for myself because I felt increasingly sure of myself as a transfeminine woman.

About that time, Halloween rolled around again which gave me an excuse to leave my closet and explore the world as a trans woman. This Halloween, I was getting better at “costuming” to present well as a woman and not to thrill as a cross dresser. Again, I was able to be out on my own because my wife was not a fan of Halloween and by pure chance, I ended up in the middle of a group of cisgender women all as tall as I was and dressed about the same way. Again, I had a great time and was even asked to dance by a man who I wondered knew about me.

All I knew was gender euphoria was great, until I crashed and burned. Then I always slipped back into my usual gender dysphoria problems. It seemed I needed the constant reassurance of me being able to present well as a transfeminine woman just to get by. Which was no way to live.

In order to live, I needed to make difficult life changing choices such as exploring the world increasingly as a feminine transgender person. I needed to weigh the difficulty in what I was doing with my life with what would happen if I was discovered. To accomplish my dream, I began to make small mini “bucket lists” of things I needed to do, most to just see if I could and increase my gender euphoria or adrenalin rush. Surprisingly, very quickly again my bucket lists did not provide much euphoria but in their place, a deep sense of stability in my life. For the first time in my life, I even felt I could be happy as a person. Whatever I was doing as a transfeminine woman, I was doing it right. Or so I thought.

Naturally I was afraid to make the final move to sever all ties with my male self. I found myself wasting precious time as I was able to expand my own new world as a woman of my own making. I had successfully gone through transitions from innocent cross dresser, all the way to full time transgender woman with bumps and bruises I had earned along the way. But I learned from them and moved on to a better life. If I only lived once, I wanted to live what was left as a woman.

Sure, my initial doses of adrenaline did help until everyday life came in and rescued me. Now I have smoothed out my life with fewer peaks and valleys of euphoria and when I do experience the negative gender dysphoria, I am able to live with it much better.

 

 

 

Building Bricks as a Trans Girl

 

Image from Marcus Spiske
on UnSplash. 

If nothing else, my long life has been a series of gender building blocks.

Ironically in my youth I spent hours building small houses with a set of plastic building blocks I was gifted. That was until I discovered the joys of mom’s clothes and began to admire myself in the family’s hallway mirror. Little did I know, from those humble beginnings, I was heading towards building a lifetime of building blocks. Transphobes as well as other assorted bigots were ruining my early days as a transfeminine woman. Which meant I needed to sort through my gender bricks until I could survive.

Very early on, I knew I needed to build a strong closet. To quote a famous “Doors” song, I was a “Rider on the Storm.”  Somedays my storm would be less as my gender dysphoria subsided on others it was unbearable and all I did was think about the next time I could cross dress in front of the mirror. It was on those occasions; the mirror would play tricks on me and tell me I was an attractive woman. I say tricks because on a good day, I had not mastered the art of makeup or fashion. I needed to be persistent in my building blocks because I would never have been successful if I did not. My dream of living a life in a transfeminine world was proving to be much more difficult than I ever imagined.

It turned out my wife was right, I did make a terrible woman until I paid my dues, but I couldn't pay my dues until I built enough gender bricks to be allowed behind the gender curtain to learn the nuances of doing it. One thing I did know was that I was my gender journey of a thousand miles did begin with that single step in front of the mirror. To keep up with my journey, more and more bricks would be needed for me to succeed. Once I was behind that imaginary but so real curtain, I became a complete sponge to be the best transfeminine person I could be. Some days I was thrilled to be where I was and on others, I was scared to death. Building a new life from scratch with very little help proved to be intimidating.

I learned and became better at dodging the barbs and smirks of the haters in the world. I had built enough bricks to replace my old gender closet with a new one which was built to last me. The new closet was good enough to take me to the point where I could authentically begin a new life as a transgender woman. Which meant I needed to be better than the average cisgender woman just to get by.

The women around me who helped me build my new gender fortress were the gate keepers who never knew how much they helped me live my dream. I was able to layer my feminine experience all the way to success.

Little did I know when I was a kid trying on my mom’s clothes for the first time, how far I would need to go to survive. My last adventure turned out to be my best.