Torn Between Two Lovers

 

Image from Hanna Lazar
on UnSplash. 

There is nothing romantic when you are being torn between two lovers if you are a transgender woman or a transgender man.

For me at least, I would never have wished for the ripping and tearing I suffered from the gender dysphoria I suffered from on my worst enemy. Waking up each morning wondering which gender I would be today was certainly no walk in the park. if I did take a walk in the park, it would be a mental one, and I would be chased by my demons.

As I write about extensively, I was stuck in my dark lonely gender closet as I felt as if I was the only one in the world who felt the same way I did. It was back before the internet and social media days and any information on gender issues was difficult to come by or out and out false. For the longest time, I just did not know where I fit in the world as a man who wanted to be a woman.

The tearing became even worse when one of my identities started to surge ahead of the other. It happened when my daughter was born and I had to get much more serious about how I was going to build a career as a man. Only to be ripped back when I viewed myself as a trans woman in front of the mirror. I only had the annual Halloween parties to get out of my closet and see what the world would be all about if I had the chance to live my dream of going full-time.

The thing about dreams is that they are a long way from reality. Reality meant I needed to go a very long way to learn about what I was trying to achieve. Back in those days, the term transgender woman was brand new and barely used, so I was surprised when I discovered it and it fit me so well. Keep in mind that I could only refer to myself as a transvestite because I knew I was not ready to use the transsexual label then or ever. If I had the will power to go through the major gender realignment surgeries of the time, I certainly did not have the insurance coverage or the financial resources to do it myself. Again, I was just stuck between two genders, but at the least I had a label now for who I was.

The ripping and tearing managed to become even worse when I began to improve my feminine presentation to the point where I could blend in with the world of ciswomen around me. Every time it happened, my male self would become upset because he was losing his hold on my life. As it was becoming increasingly evident that someday, I would have to choose between my two very serious gender lovers.

At the same time, I was trying everything to maintain my already fragile mental health by going to therapists. By doing so, I was able to learn what being bi-polar depressed meant and why I was suffering from it. All along, I was blaming my severe depression on my gender issues when I had other often more pressing issues. At the same time, I was ignoring facts from my therapist that she could do nothing about me wanting to be a woman. It turned out to be my truth that I refused to follow. Instead, I tried to move on. Going the wrong way on a one-way gender street. Dodging the sometimes-toxic public became too much of me until I began to give up totally on my male side and concentrate on living my dream of being a transfeminine person.

I never labored under the idea that my life in the world as a trans woman would be easy but I never bargained for the complexity of the new life I was facing. It seemed that every time I was able to overcome one obstacle on my path, something new would appear to take its place. Like never before, I had to really listen to what people were telling me, so I would miss nothing in the conversation. I found that trying to live in a world of ciswomen meant more than just looking the part. I needed to be the part too. Always before as a man, it was easy for me as a man to zone out in conversations and then catch up when I wanted to, but impossible when I began communicating one on one with other women.

Of course, my male side always hated losing, and every time my female side showed any victories, he hated it and fought back harder. As he was trying everything, he knew how to maintain what was left of his life. To placate him, I would try to do as many male things I could such as drinking with the few true male friends he had left. The problem was even he was beginning to feel alienated from his old friends as they started to pass away from cancer. At the same time, my feminine self was very successful in carving out a new life she could sustain as well as feeling so natural doing it. It was becoming obvious as the ripping and tearing (and even a large part of my depression) began to go away that I had chosen the right path to take on my gender journey.

At the same time, I began to consider attempting to get approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT. First through an independent doctor and then through the Veterans Administration healthcare system which had just approved it. It was as if the long-closed doors which were preventing me from living my transgender dream were suddenly swinging wide open. From then on, the only ripping going on was over what male baggage I could not take with me into my new life. My male clothes were given to charity as I built up my wardrobe for a new everyday experience as a transgender woman. It was a terrific weight off my shoulders.

My hope for you I that you can overcome your inner turmoil faster than I did by facing your truth. Thanks for reading and commenting!

 

 

Discovery in a Trans Life

 

Image from Spencer Davis
on UnSplash. 

Without knowing it, my life has turned into a path of gender discovery. When I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror, I discovered yet again what the magic of HRT hormones had done for me and how fortunate I was to be in the situation I was in. But it was not always that way.

Like many of you, my discovery began when I was spending too much of my time as a youth exploring my mom’s clothing and makeup. From that point forward I was hooked as I tried my best not to destroy any of mom’s clothes as I outgrew them. Possibly, I was successful because she never said anything to me about her wardrobe which was fairly extensive for a high school teacher back in those days. In the 1960’s.

Very early on, as I was making gender discoveries left and right, I ended up refusing to accept the most important one. That my life was much deeper than just wearing girls’ clothes in front of the mirror, I really wanted to be a girl. If I had the information tools to know it, instead of just liking the clothes and the look, I was in fact, transgender. The problem was, this was way before the internet and social media years, so I had no access to the world of cross-dressers than my occasional delivery of “Virginia Prince’s” “Transvestia” magazine. Once I received my newest edition, I could compare how I looked with all the other cover girls in the issue. To be sure, a real discovery came from every issue.

Perhaps, most importantly, were the back of the issue pages which I discovered advertised “Tri-Ess” social mixers for so called straight transvestites all over the country. Including ones in my native Ohio which I discovered were within driving distance of me. From that point forward, I wanted to personally attend a social and see where I fit into a gender system which I felt so alone in. When I gathered the resources and courage to do it, I signed up for a social/mixer which was a couple hours away from me. That sparked my first big discovery of my transgender life. By being around like-minded people for the first time in my life, I hoped my loneliness would go away. Sadly, it did not because I still felt alone in the middle of a crowded room. I am sure part of it had to do with my inherent shyness, and the rest from going through for the first time how it felt to be without my learned male self-protection privileges. Starting all over as myself was an initial shock.

In the protected world I was from, I had no idea of how many layers of people I would meet on the gender spectrum. My eyes were opened from meeting cigar smoking cross dressers who seemed to be denying the fact that they were there at all. All the way to the impossibly feminine transsexuals who had been on HRT and were headed to gender realignment surgeries. The problem was that I did not know where I fit in the new system I was seeing.

I just knew I needed to figure it out which meant a deep exploration into my inner self, no matter how painful it might be. Discovery then took on a new meaning to me as I explored the world as a transgender woman trying to carve out a life for herself. At the time, I was only going to gay venues to see if I could meet a like minded individual there but quickly learned I could not and took the next best step to try to test myself out by discovering if the straight world would accept me. By doing so, I found myself in all kinds of different situations in everything from small lesbian bars to big straight casual dining venues such as TGIF. After some scary beginnings, I discovered I could fit in on my own terms. Which surprised me beyond my greatest expectations. I was also learning that my goal of living an everyday life as a trans woman just maybe could be within reach. If I wanted it bad enough.

I did discover I did want a transfeminine life enough to sort out my male baggage I would not need on a male to female gender transition. It seemed my path for the first time was lit up like a new highway to my future if I wanted it. The best part was I was still discovering what it meant to be myself as I made a new world for my long-awaited transgender woman to emerge and live in. It is not often that a human has a chance to re-invent themselves and enjoy the challenge of doing it but I got there. I discovered by putting myself out there in the world I could build a new feminine life from the ashes of my old male life, I even went online and my wife Liz found me on a dating site, and we have been together for nearly fourteen years now. I was prepared at that time to spend the rest of my life alone and discovered I did not have to. It was a real surprise.

Over what has turned out to be a long life, I have been able to make many discoveries which have aided my progress in the world. Including more than a few which I never thought would happen such as my relatively easy time in the Army all the way to me being able to make my way to living a life as a fulltime transgender woman. While, at the same time retaining some of my most important male building blocks along the way.

I hope you have the chance to make your own discoveries in your life that you deserve. Enjoying your discoveries should be a part of your pleasure.

Thanks for reading along and comments are always appreciated.

 

 

Just Me

JJ Hart

Years ago, when I started to write a “blog”, I barely even knew what one was. I was urged on by a close online acquaintance that I had met on another site that I cannot recall now or even know if it is still in existence. My friend has long since faded away and I hope she is still with us at all as she had health problems when I met her.

What I remember the most is the number of entitled transgender women who were “post op” (had gone through some sort of gender surgery) and felt that they were better than the “pre opt” trans women who had no surgeries at all. They were for the most part very nasty and we referred to them as “Trans-Nazi’s”. At that time, I had several very in-depth experiences I shared, and my friend told me I had enough to share with the world. So, I did and to this day, I am still writing.

Years ago, I made a pledge to myself to try to help others with my writing because for the most part, we share very similar yet difficult lives. Over the years, I have been able to share all sorts of experiences such a the “Blue Coat” I cherished so much in a store but was never able to buy because the finances could not handle it. I so loved that coat, that I was overjoyed every time I went back to that store and it was still there. Actually, it was pale blue, full length, wool, and I thought it fit perfectly with my long blond wig and black silky pants suit. I was there so much that I thought the staff would notice the tall blond trying on the same coat time after time without ever buying it. Because she was just wasting mirror time admiring herself, but they never did and finally I just had to give up on having the coat of my dreams.

Maybe I should have felt guilty about my one-sided obsession to be an attractive trans woman without the help of any surgeries. Plus, at the same time keep my long term marriage alive by going against all the transgender theories of the day which said you had to go away, have gender realignment surgery and start all over again in a totally new life. I was too stubborn for that and wanted to do it my way with one foot firmly planted in two gender worlds, male when I worked or was with my wife and female when I was not and was going to the diverse social parties I was attending in nearby Columbus, Ohio. I loved them because I never knew who I was going to meet there and they could be anywhere on the gender spectrum from lesbians to feminine transsexual women headed for their surgery.

Even with the wide range of gender diversity I ran into, I still could not get over the fact that I still did not fit in yet with any of the groups I interacted with. Ironically, I did learn how well I interacted with the lesbians who attended the parties which set the stage for my future belief that I firmly was not into men but still enjoyed my time with ciswomen and we got along.

From Columbus, so to speak, I took my going out show on the road and begin exploring more frequently venues that I had always wanted to go to as a transgender woman. As I was busy kicking open my closet door, I was learning more and more about the resilient new me. I started to write about my good and bad experiences in the straight world I wanted to be in as I left the safety of the gay venues behind me. The safety I am referring to was sacrificing always being known as just another queen to trying my best to be accepted on a bigger stage in straight venues I enjoyed going to as a man. Then, I started to write about which male baggage (such as sports) I could possibly bring with me. At the time, as well as now, I added how important it was to judge your surroundings to determine what other ciswomen were doing. I have always tried to emphasize how important it is to not bring any negative attention to yourself as I used to do by trying to cross-dress provocatively when I first entered the world.

Speaking of the world. It began to open for me when I began to blend in with my target audience which were women. At that point I started to write about being allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox and being allowed behind the magic gender curtain that I cherished so much that I was willing to risk all the male privileges I had worked so hard for to get there. The more experienced I became in my new feminine world I became, the more important it became for me to write about when I knew it was time to pull the plug on my male life. The key for me was that my transition always felt so natural for me, and my only regret was that it took me so long to do it.

I also went through the who I am to give advice on part of my writing experience. From comments I received all the way to just realizing my thoughts were as relevant as anyone else’s, I forged ahead through years of writing. Making sure that my writings were grounded by the realities I had such as the days I spent with my friends at the monthly lesbian mixers I always went to with them. Or the “Andy Warhol” exhibit I went to with transgender friends back in Columbus at Ohio State University and how I needed to be careful not to come off sounding like a trans-nazi myself after I wrote about a group of drunken cross-dressers trashing a women’s restroom in a gay bar we went to after the exhibit. Rightfully so, after the restroom incident, lesbians in the bar got the rest of us banned from using the women’s room. I was trying to hide my disdain for what the cross-dressers did because I was not far removed from being a very serious cross-dresser myself. The last thing I ever wanted to do was put myself up on any sort of pedestal.

Since now, I have followed my life’s curves and transitions, at the age of seventy-seven I have transitioned into my true transfeminine self-fulltime and thanks to my wife Liz having been living my dream life since I was sixty. Transitioning with Liz made me feel like the real me which had always been missing was the final piece of the puzzle.

Hopefully, I still have many healthy years to write about my experiences in my quest to help others with similar gender issues.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

What Will You Do with your New Time?

 

Image from Elana Korcheva
on UnSplash. 

When we come close to completing a major portion of our gender recovery project as transgender women or transgender men, we suddenly learn we have more to do. It seems our work is never done.

In my case, my wife Liz and I were talking about the rare chance I had to stop my previous life as an unhappy man and start all over as a pleasant trans woman. As she wisely said, not many humans ever have the chance to stop, start over and live their lives again. Then I began to think of all the people I called “Trans-Nazi’s” who just gave off the vibes of being evil people.

I first ran into them on an on-line site I found when I first bought a home computer and started exploring cross-dresser or transgender web sites. Back in those days, complete sex change or gender realignment surgeries seemed to be rarer than they are today and those individuals who went through them were expected to move on completely from their former male life and start all over as a complete woman.

On the site, many of the transsexual women banded against the cross dressers and even the newer transgender women for some sort of supremacy simply because they had more operations than the other person. It did not matter to them when someone such as myself pointed out that my gender was always located between my ears, not between my legs. I was always placed in the gender “pretender” crowd which never made me happy as I waded into the “discussions.” As you can imagine, quite a few of the “discussions” grew quite heated behind the screens of gender computer warriors. On occasion I wondered why we were spending all this time and energy fighting each other when so many others in the outside world wanted to attack us anyhow.

Once I made it away from my computer and into the twisted reality of the old transvestite- transgender mixers that “Tri-Ess” and others put on, I was able to meet some of the “Nazi’s” one on one and changed their name to me as the “A-Lister’s”. They were the predecessors to the girls in the “Mean Girl’s” movies and reminded me of some of the less than pleasant popular girls who set themselves up on some sort of a pedestal when I was in high school. During these social mixers of course, I was left out from being with the “A” girls because I could not match their spectacular femininity. Again, I could not understand why they decided to not bring the best of femininity with them instead of the worst. But the result was that I just wanted to tag along when they went to special gay venues after the regular activities were over and most of the attendees had given up and returned to their rooms.

It turned out, once I got to know one of the “mean girls”, she wasn’t so mean after all and I was invited to her restored home in nearby Columbus, Ohio. She threw very small and diverse parties, and I learned a lot of what I thought I wanted to do with my future as a transgender woman from her. Unlike me, she was headed towards a complete gender realignment surgery, and through our discussions she helped me to determine what the best path may be for me. In her own way, she taught me to be gracious and giving in her femininity.

In other ways, her get-togethers were teachers for me. Such as the time I was in danger of being sexually molested and over-powered by a much bigger man who had attended the party as an admirer (and was only saved by my wife after he cornered me in a narrow hallway.) Plus, the first time I found I could be attracted to a lesbian and her with me on a night when my wife did not attend with me. We ended up leaving the party early and going to a big lesbian/gay venue, but it all ended there because I was married. The only problem I had was being able to make it to all the parties I wanted to because I had to work many weekend nights in the restaurant I was in.

Since I needed to make a living, I found other ways to spend my increasingly beneficial time learning what my future may be like as a transfeminine person. Even though I knew I would never be as attractive as my unintended mentor, I needed to find out if I could still make it to my dream goal of womanhood on my own terms. Too much was riding on my ultimate decision not to research it totally. Which meant trying to establish myself as a new person in straight venues I was used to. To my surprise, I was able to with relatively no problems as most of the world did not care if I was trans or not.

More than anything else, during this time, I was trying to rebuild myself into a person that never gave away any of her male past, unless I was forced to like when I came out as the person, I always was to my daughter, who accepted me and my only blood relation still alive (my brother) who did not. Which resulted in an ugly breakup which on occasion I go into. The easiest thing to say is that we have not interacted for over a decade now.

Through it all, I decided to listen to the person I trusted the most, which was my wife Liz and try to build my new feminine life as close as I could to my mentor (Michelle) so long ago in Columbus. I wanted to be a kind and giving gracious woman. Who used her extra time in life to love and cherish her new family and forget my largely toxic background.

I just had to take my extra time and make it as worthwhile as possible.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Who You Going to Call as a Trans Girl

 

My friend Raquel 

One of my biggest problems when I decided to test the world as a new cross-dresser or transgender woman was having no one to ask about my issues. For example, why was I getting “clocked” or read every time I left the mirror and went to the mall. It turned out that the issue was just tied into how I was dressing my male contoured body by not doing my best to blend in. Ciswomen everywhere were laughing at me from my cross-dressing mistakes and ruining my all-important confidence.

As I said, I had absolutely no one to go to, to discuss the problems I was having in the world. I had no mom to try to rein me in in my trans-teen years or a peer group of girls my age for me to copy. As it was when I was mom’s phantom daughter, I ended up wearing makeup and shaving my legs before most of the girls my age were allowed to do it. Mom, for some reason, never looked for the tell-tale signs of being a curious girl from her oldest son.

Skipping ahead quite a bit, my closet was truly dark in the years before the internet when all there was, was Virginia Prince and “Transvestia” or the “Tri-Ess” social mixers I used to attend every time I could. My hope was that I could find a friend or acquaintance that I could get to know to understand our unique gender issues, but it never worked out that way and I still did not have anyone to call with my cross-dressing problems. The only thing I walked away with was I came away with being more confused than ever before. I did not know how many layers of individuals I would be able to meet at the social mixers I was able to attend. Many more levels than the publications I was reading from “Virginia” led me to believe that existed when she was calling her group as one for heterosexual men only. She probably needed to turn a blind eye and ignore all the activity going on beyond the hotel room doors where the mixers were being held. There was most likely different kinds of mixing than Virginia and the “Tri-Ess” groups would have approved of.

All sexuality aside, there was a diverse group of people who attended, all the way from men in dresses with cigars and cowboy hats trying to hide their femininity to the ultra-feminine “A” listers who were on their way to gender alignment surgeries. Neither of which did I fit in with. I was somewhere in between once again with no one to call or hang out with and exchange trans-girl talk.

It turned out, I only made one significant trans friend and that was Raquel before she moved away from our native Ohio to Dallas, Texas. Even if we were on slightly differing transition paths, we still had enough in common to get along and socialize. She was headed towards gender operations and attracting men while I was on the path of staying the same physically and hanging out with lesbian women. Opposites do attract too in the world of transgender women when we keep an open mind about who is on the right path. The whole situation with Raquel briefly gave me a person to call, and I truly appreciated it even though we have not seen each other in person for years as she is still in Dallas and I am with my wife Liz in Cincinnati.

As I bring up Liz and other ciswomen who were instrumental in bringing out my best as a transwoman, my interactions with them brought on an entirely different dynamic. It was not as if I was calling them for advice on my male to female femininization project, they were always there if I needed them. I was still embarking on an intense learning project as I crossed the gender border for the first time. So, I needed their input like how my lesbian friend Kim handled a man harassing her in a sports bar about her “Pittsburgh Steelers” leather jacket. I did not have to call her for her knowledge; it was right there for my taking. Learning is always easier if you are having fun, and I was having a blast.

We transgender women (no matter where you are on your path) begin our lives as adults on the outside looking into to the world of ciswomen we so completely want to be a part of. In my life I went full circle of having my first fiancé dress me head to toe as a woman when I took the time and effort to call her. She ended up holding it against me for the rest of the time we were together and worse yet, I was not that impressed with her makeup job anyhow. In my circle, she was actually the only ciswoman I sought out for help. The rest, I learned the art of femininity by osmosis or by just observing everything my friends were doing and thinking I could do it too.

The main big problem comes when our frail confidence is shattered when someone says we can’t succeed and major setbacks occur. Unless you are fortunate enough to have an understanding spouse or friend to help you through the rough patches, it still is hard to find someone to call. My suggestion at that point is to seek out help from a local LGBTQ group you can interact with. In person or even virtually until you can regain your confidence about your authentic transfeminine self. Where there is a will, there is a way out of the darkest gender closet.

When you do, maybe you can reach the best step ever and be able to pay forward your confidence in life to help others in need. Which is my main goal for writing this blog. I don’t want to see anyone suffering needlessly in their dark closet.

 

My Life's Passion

JJ Hart on vacation
last winter. 

Without a doubt, the one passion which has consumed my life the most has been my desire to be a woman.

I continually write about my youth as a confused boy wondering if I was the only boy in the world who wanted to be a girl. My desires extended all the way to what I wanted for Christmas (the doll baby I never got) all the way to when I lied about what I wanted to be when I grew up. Rather than rock the boat I always said some sort of a male profession such as a doctor or a lawyer rather than what I really wanted to be, a woman.

All I could do was take refuge in my mirror which told me I made a pretty girl out of the boy I was at the time. It became a passion for me to use as much of my free time as possible to cross-dress. At the same time, I became really good at acting like a boy by playing sports and having an interest in cars. I was so good, it kept the bullies away until male puberty invaded my body. Outside of hating the changes puberty was making to my body, I remember being intensely aware of my new masculinity and what to do with it. Even walking like a man was a chore for me to learn to do. I was so afraid of walking like a “sissy” and be made fun of by the bullies that I feared what to do. Little did I know that later in life my passion would be to unlearn all that I needed to learn at the time about being masculine.

As much as I tried and as tormented, I because of my gender passions, I could not seem to lose my desire to be feminine over my hated male image. At the time, I was in the midst of what I call the information “dark ages” before the internet and any social media input. Even the word transvestite was new to me as I struggled to find my footing in life. In other words, my gender closet was very dark and lonely, with little opportunity to have any future at all in my passion to understand and be feminine.

I stayed that way until I grew older and my passion included receiving my cherished issues of “Transvestia” magazine and I could read the “wisdom” of “Virginia Prince” whenever I could get my hands on another issue. For a while I thought it was working until I began to read about the social mixers certain chapters had to meet and greet other cross-dressers or transsexuals as they were known back in those days. Amazingly, one of the chapters in my native Ohio held mixers on a fairly regular basis that I could attend. I thought for sure, meeting others with similar gender issues could help me but I was wrong. Their passions exposed the many layers of where I could fit in (or not) with the remainder of the cross-dressing community and at the least, I hoped I could come away from the social by making a friend or two.

The only thing that really came out of the mixers was the knowledge that another chapter was coming close to establishing their own socials in Columbus, Ohio which was vastly closer for me to attend. Maybe I was too standoffish or even shy to make what I would call friends, but I continued to keep going any way and even was rewarded with invitations to smaller more diverse parties in Columbus which did not have to supposedly adhere to all of “Virginia Prince’s” archaic rules such as admitting heterosexual members only. As I said, the parties I went to were very diverse from lesbians to cross dresser admirers all the way to transgender women getting ready for gender realignment surgeries. The learning process I went through every time I went fueled my passion to learn more about my place in this new exciting world, I was becoming a part of. I could not wait to be invited to the next party.

I felt so secure from my party experiences, that I decided to do more exploring in my own in public. That is when I began to seek out the straight venues I used to go to as a man when I always wondered what it would be like to experience them as a woman. My passion for my new life exploded when I discovered I could be accepted which kept me out of the gay venues which I did not feel comfortable in at all. I was able to go out to be alone and mostly socialize by myself for the most part as I worked hard on my passion to fill out my gender workbook which was seriously lagging behind my fast-paced life as a novice transgender woman.

By this time, I had decided I had made the right decision to follow my feminine passion and try to survive in a world run by ciswomen. My path felt natural and I was rapidly coming close to the time when I was going to push all my male privileges I had earned to the middle of the table and bet my life on the transfeminine path I was on. I could not believe that my entire life’s dream/goal was suddenly within my grasp. If only I had the courage to finally follow through on my passion.

I did follow through and with the help of my future wife Liz, I went on HRT, threw out or gave away all my male clothes and never looked back on my male life except to decide which baggage to bring with me. I even went as far as taking female vocal lessons to try to teach me all important feminine communication skills which I desperately needed. It all turned out to be a labor of love as I listened and learned from the world around me.

The boy so long ago in the mirror finally had his deep-seated passions rewarded.

 

 

 

  

No One Way is the Correct Way

 

JJ Hart, Trans Ohio 
Conference. 

Yesterday, I referred again to my initial explorations in my mom’s clothes as the way I started my gender journey, and you may have done it too. Or some of you may have had a sister or two to borrow clothes from or even better get dressed up as a girl for Halloween in your past.

My point is that initially we follow very similar paths on our gender journeys without ever meeting up until later in life. Possibly at one of the cross dresser-transgender mixers which used to occur and still do in places such as Provincetown and Harrisburg Pennsylvania who host major events so you can experience living as your feminine self for an extended period of time. Plus, if you live near a city/metro area of any size, often there are LGBTQ groups who host support groups for novice cross dressers to attend which helps them understand a little more what they are up against with their gender issues. For example, Cincinnati, where I live has several gender support groups which cater to different ages in the community.

No matter how you reach out to seek relief from your closet, no one way is the right way to do it. For example, I would not recommend how I came out into the world as a transfeminine person to anyone. I took too many chances in sketchy gay venues as well as drinking way too much. I was caught in a situation where alcohol gave me too much courage while at the same time convinced me how good I looked. Both of which nearly got me into serious trouble a couple of times when I pushed the envelope too far by trying to go to redneck leaning venues. I was fortunate that I did not get physically harmed but I did not.

It was about that time when I began to notice how much more attention, I was getting from ciswomen than men. I think for the most part, the women were curious about what I was doing in their world, and I was harmless dressed the way I was. Slowly, I began to think I was on the right path after all when I started to enjoy myself.

For the longest time, I thought my next move into the lesbian culture was relatively rare when it came to the transgender community until I received another comment from “Bobbie W.” It turned out she was influenced by two lesbians when she was exploring the world too. Sadly, the difference in our paths came when her two friends moved away after school and Bobbie lost her contacts in the lesbian world. On the other hand, my difference was I never lost contact with their world and learned so much about the woman I could become. I became so serious with one of the lesbians I met, that I moved in with her and we got married. We have been together for over a decade now.

Another point I want to make with being accepted by the lesbian culture is you have to try to enter their world with a thick skin and prepare yourself for rejection. You also have to understand the layers of difference in their culture from “butches” to “femmes” and everything in between. Also be aware there are “Gold Star” lesbians who are completely against everything male versus the rest of the culture who had made it with a man in their past and had a very bad experience. One of my friends was a “Gold Star” and always held me at arm’s length while the others, including my wife Liz had children through previous soured relationships.

Maybe also, you think that since you went to all this trouble to be a transgender woman, why waste it on another woman and you want a man. Since I have had very little experience with men over the years, I am a bad one to ask. For the most part, men have steered clear of me, and I have steered clear of them. I did have a couple of dates years ago during my coming out years, but nothing ever came of them, and they were one night experience dates in very public venues where I felt safe. Other than a very rare circumstance, I have never met a trans woman who had a long-term relationship with a man, and I often wondered how scary it would be if he brought his trans girlfriend home to meet mom and the family for the holidays. Although I did it with Liz’s highly conservative dad and brother. (I was terrified).

These days, the possibility of establishing a long-term relationship exists on a broader spectrum than ever before. I know a couple of transgender women who met during their gender realignment surgeries five years ago and just celebrated their fifth anniversary, so anything is possible. Just because your path does not align with the other gender conflicted people around you, it does not make it right. As I said, the spectrum has grown bigger over the years with the advent of the internet influence and social media groups. Although I read recently the tide is starting to turn back to personal contacts and away from online dating which I was lucky with. After sorting through tons of trash and rejection my wife Liz contacted me and we have been together ever since.

Since we are all humans, we share in the vast spectrum of life we are living. Perhaps since we are transgender women and trans men, we have a broader spectrum to live with. These days we still have to deal with the unreasoning anti-LGBTQ political ads which are starting to appear. I saw one just this morning from Kentucky congressman Thomas Massie who was campaigning for a right-wing candidate when he said the candidate was not for transgender they and them but for us. I need to get prepared for the worst that is yet to come.

Try not to let it all drive you tightly back into your closet and keep in mind no way is the right way when you decide to come out and look around.

 

Gender Trauma or Dysphoria?

 

Image from Dominic
Swain on UnSplash.

When you spend a life dealing with gender dysphoria, often, gender trauma comes along with it. Interestingly, I have encountered some in the transgender community who claimed they had no dysphoria at all.

One of those encounters I had, happened one night at a transgender-cross dresser support group I was attending. I mentioned my struggles with gender dysphoria and the moderator stuck her nose up in the air and said she never had experienced any dysphoria at all. I recovered from her statement by simply saying she was lucky. I would have not wished what I went through with my gender struggles on my worst enemy. As a sidelight, I wondered later if the moderator knew what gender dysphoria was anyway. Since that time, she has gone through gender realignment surgery and has married another transgender woman. What I consider a remarkable journey for someone who never had experienced any gender trauma supposedly at all.

My trauma started quite early in life when I knew something was wrong with me but just could not come up with what it was. In fairness to me or my parents (if they knew), the information on gender dysphoria was completely missing in those days when I was young. In fact, I don’t think I was diagnosed with gender dysphoria until I went to a Veteran’s Administration therapist. Which would have been sometime in my thirties and allowed my therapist to prescribe gender affirming hormones to me and start the paperwork towards all my legal gender change documents. So, it was very important.

Along the way, I had the public to blame for furthering my gender trauma, which made my ordeal of coming out of my gender shell even worse. I was insecure enough until I made it to the ordeal of having the police called on me because I simply had to use the restroom. To make matters worse, I was kicked out of one of my regular venues. That was the place where the crew came down to a nearby venue I was going to and invited me back. It turned out, the manager who told me to leave was fired for drug abuse and stealing. I had my revenge, but my gender dysphoria remained.  

It turned out, my newfound success in the world as a transgender woman was followed by extra pressure to do better. I wanted to be better at my art of makeup and fashion. I wanted to be able to blend but do it better than the average cisgender woman. I wanted to be respected but at the same time not threatening the world. I had my setbacks such as being called a pervert by another woman in a restroom. I got even with her too when I found out she owned a hair salon, and I reported her to the local powerful LGBTQ center.

When something like that happened, I desperately needed points of gender euphoria to balance out the bad spots. It seemed for every gender bigot I encountered; I ran into another nice person who was genuinely curious about me. Many times, even better, I was able to learn as much from the other women I met as they did about me. For weeks at a time, if I was lucky, I grew confident in my presentation and my gender dysphoria subsided. Not completely, as there was always a new obstacle on my path to being a full-time transfeminine person. On the plus side, I spent less time stuck in reverse on my transition journey.

By being out in the public’s eye, I spent less time dwelling on what I was going to do about my future. Was I going to keep pursuing a part-time male life until the wheels came off or was, I going to take the actions necessary to make progress towards my dreams. As I put off deciding on my life, my gender dysphoria simply would not go totally away. Every day and time I looked in the mirror, I struggled because sometimes I would get a glimpse of my real feminine self but on others, I could not shake the old male image looking back at me. No matter how much change was occurring from the gender affirming hormones I was on. Disappointment ran deep with me as the transition wheels fell off when I saw him in the mirror.

Sheer willpower, as well as elation when things were going right kept me going through the dark days of dysphoria. In fact, to this day, I still suffer from gender duress when I look in the mirror. I have made it to the point where I am not as bad off as the mirror is telling me I am or as good as the mirror is suggesting. I am tired of fighting and the world will just have to take what it gets from me.

 

 

Cutting a Life in Half

  

JJ Hart at Witches' Ball

Cutting life in half is difficult.

Perhaps I am biased, but I feel transgender women and transgender men feel the cut deeper than the rest of the population. Some of you may even remember the days when a transsexual person was expected to go through gender realignment surgery, then move to a completely different town and start all over with their life.

At my age, I remember all of that, and it was one of the reasons I balked at going through a major gender transition in my life. However, I was fortunate. I had two transsexual role models who were determined to do the gender change in their own way. One was a Columbus, Ohio fireperson who restored her own house in German Village, an upscale historical area of Columbus. She was preparing to retire from the fire department and there was no way she would move after surgery. It has been many years since I have heard from her and the last, I had heard she and a lesbian had moved in together.

The other transsexual I briefly knew was a beautiful woman who was going to complete her gender surgeries also. As I remember, she was an accomplished electrical engineer who would have no problem finding a job wherever she decided to go. We were never close, so I lost contact with her too.

Back in those days, I was very naïve and considered a very feminine appearance was all it took to cut your life in half and start all over. I had not yet even begun to pay my dues to be able to slip behind the gender curtain. One of my main considerations back then was how far did I want to go to cut my life in half and start all over. I certainly did not have the money saved up for gender surgeries and loved my wife and new family. A lot to consider giving up. The only thing I did know was, I thought about it continually.

Then I began to explore seriously what it would take to cut my life where it was the beginning again and I could start all over as a transgender woman. Another problem I had was, the more successful baggage I accumulated as a man, the harder it would be to stop the train and go back. I was stubborn and tried to take the middle road. I worked on my makeup presentation and fashion and shopped till I dropped for just the right piece to add to my closet. At no point did I ever consider myself attractive, but I did feel I had done enough in my appearance to live that way for the rest of my life if I needed to.

As I reached the point of no return, it was time to cut my life and start all over again, but I did not. Sure, I had given away what was left of my male clothes to charity, but I did not give away my lifelong love of sports and women too. I found the big sports bars I used to frequent as a man were also welcoming to me as a transgender woman. And most amazingly, I learned my sexuality did not have to change either. I had more cisgender women and lesbians approach me as a new transfeminine woman as I ever did as a man. Dispelling another myth from the old days that when your gender changed by surgery, your sexuality had to change too.

What I did get rid of was any pictures or awards from my past. When other women talked about their families, I could talk about mine also, but just to a point. I found out the hard way, there would be no hint given at any time that I was a veteran and drafted during the Vietnam era. The entire process turned out to be a sure-fire way to out myself and draw reference to my male life if I was not careful.

Cutting and resurrecting a long life is never easy. Especially when people are curious about you. I went through tons of trial-and-error conversations before I finally began to get it right. Now I save details of my life for people like the prying woman a couple of weeks ago at the graduation party I went to. She went to the extent of calling me dad because of my daughter so I went to the extent of telling her I was drafted in the military during Vietnam. Plus, to confuse her even more, I told her my first wife, and third wife were sitting at the table also. After that, she gave up and left. It’s rare I have ever had a chance to pick and win such a battle.

In no way though, do I ever want to make any of this sound fun, because it is not. What stays and what goes away is always such a difficult set of decisions to make. I hope you can make yours easily.