Buckle Up for the Ride

Image from Inis Piazzi on
UnSplash.

I am biased I know but I think negotiating a full-fledged trip through the gender frontier from one side to the other side is one of the most difficult things a human can do.

Unless you are blessed with an overabundance of feminine qualities and characteristics, you very much start out from point zero with your femininization project and it shows. I am an example as I thought I looked good with my tight clothes and makeup which would have looked good on a clown in drag in the circus. In all fairness, it took me awhile to catch up because my gender workbook was blank and I had no one to help me fill it out. No overly concerned mom to tell me what not to do with makeup and no peer group of girls to coach me along. It was all me, and it showed. Except in the mirror which kept on lying to me by telling me I was a pretty girl.

It wasn’t until I began going out into the world did, I find out how wrong the mirror was. Numerous times, just after the mirror told me I looked great, I was bounced by an unforgiving public back to the safety of my closet. Through it all, some people were so cruel with their comments, they sent me home in tears. It was during those dark days when I really had to buckle up and decide what I was doing was right. Somehow, deep down inside, I knew I was right and I needed to figure out what exactly I was doing wrong when I cross -dressed and went out.

What happened was, I had the where with all to look around at all the ciswomen around me and notice what they were doing. By doing so, I noticed a few of the women were as big as I was, so size was not the issue which was dooming me to being laughed at. It was how I moved and how I interacted with the world which mattered. Plus, it helped that my makeup skills had begun to dramatically improve. I quit feeling sorry for myself and started to fill out my own gender workbook without being a victim. Because I was stuck with a testosterone poisoned body and somehow, I needed to work my way around it.

I started by going on a diet which I lost fifty pounds on and started to take better care of my skin after I shaved, so I used less makeup and found less was actually more. At the same time, I began to haunt the local thrift stores for just the right piece of clothing which I could buy which flattered my new slimmer figure. I still had my male torso with the broad shoulders, and I had to dress my way around them. I discovered new favorite outfits with loose flowing tops combined with denim skirts that worked really well for me.

Little did I know, all this progress I was making was placing me on a one-way track towards an on-coming train. And that train was how I was going to communicate with the world which suddenly accepted me? I was extremely shy and had a difficult time communicating with the world anyhow and now I had to add on a new totally foreign language to deal with, the language of ciswomen. Initially, I was too petrified to say anything but then slowly gained the confidence to shyly join in conversations. It was so new and difficult that I needed to really buckle up to do it. I found if I did not, I would destroy everything I sat out to do by appearing mean or worse yet, bitchy. The last thing I wanted.

Once I buckled down and put my fear of communication behind me, my world opened wide with new vistas of gender enjoyment. It turned out that what I said was more important than how I said it and with that knowledge, life became easier as a transgender woman in the world for the first time.

No matter where you are in your gender journey, look ahead and not behind you. Sure, you can learn from the past, but it should not dominate you and stop you from proceeding along your way. Keep in mind, you are on a very difficult journey with major life risks at hand such as spouses, family, friends and jobs. Also beware of the trap I fell into when my second wife accepted me as a cross dresser but then completely rejected me as a transgender woman. She was correct in thinking there were vast differences between the two. Just putting on a dress and makeup just did not solve any of my gender problems anymore. I increasingly wanted more of life in the feminine world and was buckling up to get it by wanting to be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT. I was eventually approved for the dramatic changes the hormones made but sadly my wife passed away before she could experience any of the changes with me.

In my long life, it has been a rarity for me to experience firsthand any trans woman or trans man who has had a smooth, uneventful journey.  So, if you are just considering starting, or just beginning your gender path, it is best to prepare for a bumpy ride, so buckle up tight for the trip. Undoubtedly, it will provide you with setbacks and surprises you never expected. Like I always say, the gender trip is like a rollercoaster at a big amusement park, it is worth the price of admission if you let it be. As I said, just be sure to buckle up for the ride of your life. It is one most humans never get to take.

Think of it this way, make your buckle part of your fashion accessory and everyone can admire it.

 

 

In Over my Head

 

Image from Wilhelm Gunkle
on UnSplash.

As I thumbed through my new feminine workbook, I sadly discovered there were no chapters on what to do if I got in over my head. In my well-built male world, I had been able to figure out strategies on what to do in times of duress. I could choose to stand and fight, try to bluster my way through, or just run from the problem.  None of which was available to me anymore on the gender path I was on.

Even though I was blessed with a healthy male body which was slightly bigger than the norm, I had hated the changes testosterone made to it when I had no choice but to go through male puberty. Very quickly, I grew past the sizes of my mom’s clothes I was trying on and had to find other ways to build my wardrobe on the very limited budget I was on. My newspaper route money, along with the small allowance I got for helping around the house, just didn’t go far. Still, I was able to sneak out of our rural home under the pretense of visiting my grandma who lived downtown and do some shopping for makeup and hosiery. I just remember how incredibly overwhelming the makeup selection was and how much I was over my head with my selections.

After I was able to smuggle my purchases past grandma and my family, then I needed to work earnestly on how to apply the makeup I bought and not look like a clown. After looking in the family mirror and feeling like a clown in drag, I knew I was in over my head and just had to find a way out, or in as it turned out. I wanted out of the male world and into a feminine world. The mirror was wearing off, and I needed to improve my presentation, or I was doomed to forever occupy a male spot in the world where I knew I was not in over my head. The white male privileges I was building up were just too easy to not take advantage of. Ironically, all the good I was accomplishing in the world with my family, friends and job was frustrating me because, deep down, I did not want it.

What was happening was my frail mental health was being destroyed by all the gender ripping and tearing I was going through. One day I was a successful man and the next I was working to present my self as a woman was very destructive to my everyday existence because the whole process took me back to my gender fluid days when I was a kid. Back in those days, no one knew about the gender fluid term, or used it which put me in over my head before I even really started in life. Remember, I grew up in the pre-internet dark ages when anyone who cross dressed was considered mentally ill. At least I knew, even though I might be alone as a transvestite (another term from the dark ages), I was not mentally ill.

I barely survived the dark ages when I did learn there were actually individuals like me who wanted to dress as women. I would be remiss if I did not mention Virginia Prince and her Transvestia publication at this point. It was my lifeline to the cross-dressing world and opened my closet for the first time. When the light came flooding in, at first, I was blinded, and it was difficult to find my bearings. My first transvestite-crossdresser mixers I went to left me more confused than ever before. I knew I was in over my head when I saw and occasionally chatter with a few of the ultra-feminine women who I could see no masculine traits at all and on the other hand, I knew I was innately more feminine than many of the cross dressers I met. So, I left with more questions than answers.

I was caught in the same place for years as I explored the world looking for myself. Surely, along the way, I found myself in over my head as I transitioned but I kept going anyhow. Too stubborn to quit and waste the new feminine privileges I was working so hard to gain. To use another example, I threw myself into the deep end of the gender pond before I had learned how to swim. I gave myself no choice but to make it. Fortunately, all the mirror time working on my presentation as I wanted to be like the beautiful cross dressers I saw in Transvestia came back to help me. If I could present myself to blend in with the world, it gave me one step up to make it as a transfeminine person.

I certainly was in over my head enough to earn my right to play in the girl’s sandbox, and fill out my gender workbook.