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.