Stopping was Impossible

 

Image from Edward Howell
on UnSplash.

For years as I followed my early cross-dressing path, I labored under the impression that someday I could actually stop and return to my male existence. Of course, the older I became I learned that stopping was going to be nearly impossible. The reason being, when I was forced out of the mirror and into the world, I began to have success.

To me, success was measured in the public reaction I received. Very early on I suffered scorn when I went out without the knowledge to blend in with other ciswomen. When I became successful, it took so much pressure off and stopping became less and less an option. Mainly because something clicked in my head that I did not want to ever go back which was different than wanting to. For example, there was the night at TGIF Fridays when I went into the venue with the mindset, I actually wanted to be a woman with other women, not some sort of an impostor. When it happened, I knew for sure stopping was never going to be an option again. I was firmly on the path to achieving my dream of possibly living fulltime as a transgender woman.

The more I decided not to stop, the quicker the pressure mounted on me on what to do with my old male life. He had dug in deep and was refusing to go away easily. The worst part was he made good arguments such as what was I going to do about my spouse, family and employment. Just as a start. What did I do? I continued to internalize my inner woman and keep researching my future. Since my gender workbook was blank, I had a long way to go. Primarily when I needed to learn how to communicate one on one with other women when I was exceedingly shy to start with. To arrive there, I went to excess of taking feminine vocal lessons to attempt to learn to communicate better. As I was slowly succeeding in my efforts, again I knew for sure I could never go back.

Another main thing I learned was that I needed to control my emotions, not let them control me. Or when I hit the valleys of my journey (which there would be many), I had to pick myself up from being a failure and continually go back to my gender drawing board to figure out what I was doing wrong. I knew I had a testosterone poisoned body. I needed to work around but I dedicated myself to somehow doing it. I discovered from all the trips I was making to thrift stores; I could find the fashion I needed to make myself look the best I could under the circumstances I was working with. It all added up in my mind to I could never stop.

Along this way too, I quit purging for good. I had learned my lesson about the previous purges I had attempted. The lesson was, I could never go back to my old male self again. I was tired of throwing out all my hard-earned clothes, shoes and makeup only to have to replace it all again as soon as a month later.

What helped me was, I was learning over and over again how wrong I was fighting my instincts to be a transfeminine person at all. I always point out how wrong I was when I was fighting my true feminine self at all. I suffered from the brutal pressure I put on myself. So, stopping my transgender advance was never an option. I should never have waited as long as I did to go after my gender dreams.

I was fortunate that my basic personality never lent itself to stopping my search for my dreams. All my life, all I wanted to be was a woman and I just could never visualize myself not working hard to achieve my goal. I just never in a million years understood how difficult it would be for me to do it. I should have listened to my wife when she tried to tell me I was on the wrong path to achieving my goal. In a way, I did but not nearly enough until I did not stop until I was allowed to exist behind the gender curtain. Once I got there, stopping was never going to be an option again.

Then HRT and new feminine hormones shifted my mental thinking to match my external appearance which was improving all along. I never expected the changes to be so dramatic so quickly. I am glad stopping my male to female feminine transition was never a reasonable option.

 

Take Nothing for Granted

 

A night out with JJ Hart.

Last night, my wife Liz, her adult son and I went out to dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant. When we did, several questions came to mind.

I wondered of course if I would encounter any unapproving vocal fellow patrons who were protesting the mere presence of a transgender woman in the venue. Since we had been there many times in the past, I did not have much fear of that happening. Again, last night, nothing happened as I was treated the same as any other guest in the very busy venue. 

Then, I began to worry further about the influence of our current felon in chief and his attacks on illegals. I wondered what the Hispanic staff thought or worried about future ICE raids in Cincinnati which is considered a sanctuary city which should make it a target from the tRumpt goons. 

I had plenty to think about as we waited our fifteen minutes to be seated. As I people watched, I naturally wondered how many had voted for the felon. How could they? But, on the plus side, I was back out after myself imposed Covid quarantine. It felt great to be out and about and finally free from all the disease's evil effects. 

Everyone around us was minding their own business and we were minding ours. All the way to being addressed to as "ladies." Which is always very affirming. Through the entire evening, I was able somehow to put my election bitterness behind me and have a good time.

Hopefully, I did not overdo it and will have the opportunity to do it again soon. Also, I hope the masses who voted for the administration who is trying to erase all transgender people everywhere in the country will somehow feel the error of their ways. My personal paranoia date is coming up in May with my endo doc. Then, I will need a refill to my Estradiol hormones. Since I am under the Veterans Administration health care system, at any time I fear, the orange felon could reach out and try to cancel my care. We shall see and I will be forced to take it one day at a time.

In the meantime, I can take nothing for granted. It seems as if someone could always be coming for my back simply because I am transgender and I refuse to be erased. 

The Power of being Impatient

 I don't see myself as a patient person, even though I am mellowing with age and understand many things happen if you are patient enough to wait. An example I can use is the time I spent in the Army. Looking back on the entire experience, it only took three years out of my life and in return I was able to see three continents. Most importantly I can thank my Army contacts for my beloved daughter. Who is my only child. 

Looking back I can remember how I counted the days until I "served" my time and was honorably discharged. Through it all in the back of my mind were my noticeable (to me) gender issues. I can safely say my issues dominated my thinking. The problem back in those days in the 1970's there was precious little information concerning transgender issues at all. Even the term "transgender" was new. According to Wikipedia transgender became a umbrella term in the mid 1970's.  Regardless, I was desperate to learn more about my gender issues. My impatience caused me to try to outrun my issues. Leading to moving my wife and I several times along me changing jobs numerous times. Due to self destructive behavior impatience caused me to flirt with alcoholism. 

Photo Courtesy Jessie Hart

During the years I was able to redirect my gender frustrations into being able to carve a nice career in the commercial food management business. On the other hand I wish I could reclaim the energy I lost to wanting to become a transgender woman and manage to do it on a full time basis. No such luck and along the way again I overcompensated as a macho male. Heavily into sports and drinking. It worked too well. Except on a few occasions when I was cross dressed as a man and someone would refer to me as a "she" I passed as a guy well. Testosterone over the years had served me well...against my deepest wishes.

I found for me, the most effective way to overcome the effects of testosterone on my body was to begin hormone replacement therapy when I was in my early sixties. As I began the therapy, I was aware a few of the changes would occur over a short term of time but overall, I would have to be patient and wait for other changes. Also age and health was a factor in my medical decision to begin HRT. Fortunately I was cleared medically and I was able (as I saw it) to begin my gender transition from cross dresser to transgender woman. Later on I came to realize switching my hormone balance to the feminine side would aid in my exterior presentation to the world but no matter what I still was transgender. No amount of patience or hormones could change that. In other words, I was correct in assuming mentally I was a girl. 

Having written all of that, I am still extremely impatient when it comes to my hormone replacement therapy. I finally was able to find out my estradiol levels this week, so it is possible I may be in for a slight increase in dosage. On the other hand, I am aware breast size is determined not so much by the amount of hormones but by hereditary history. Also, since all of the sudden I am experiencing growth in my hips, I probably will stay on the Estradiol dosage I am on and not risk any negative health situations.

For once I am going to have to put my impatience behind me.       

Whose Fault was It

 I often think about and sometimes write about what if I was never gender dysphoric and ultimately made it my life's goal to be a woman. In fact, if someone had asked me early in life (and I gave a honest answer) what I really wanted to do with my life, somewhere in the answer, being a girl would have made it into the conversation. Of course I never had the courage to answer like that.

Photo Courtesy
J,J, Hart

I have written before on the effects of the drug DES which was given to pregnant women who had a history of problem pregnancies'. What is DES? Diethylstilbestrol (DES) is a synthetic form of the female hormone estrogen. It was prescribed to pregnant women between 1940 and 1971 to prevent miscarriage, premature labor, and related complications of pregnancy.  I fit the description as I was born in 1949 and my mother suffered from a string of cruel miscarriages and still births. So it's very possible I was a DES baby.

What did it mean to me? Most likely a lifetime of gender struggle. I wish I could reclaim just a small portion of the energy it took me to stay in the male gender lane. 

I wish too I could have had a chance to experience just a small lesson into what a girl went through growing up. I remember quite vividly the changes I went through when male puberty took over my body. I remember too how I didn't like it but thought I didn't really have much of a choice. I am happy for the young transgender youth of today who at the least have a possibility of being prescribed hormone blockers to help development  into their authentic selves. 

Looking back at the process now, I'm sure my Mom who was a very forceful individual would have forced her "daughter's" hand  into going to the same college as she did along with being in the same sorority. I can only imagine the pressure she put on me as a son would have increased dramatically

Most certainly there would have been other trade off's too. The primary one concerns my time in the military. Seeing as how I have to add in all the years the Vietnam War hung around for, caused me to have to worry about going and serving. All the worry led me to the ultimate prize of meeting my first wife and her birthing my daughter who I cherish as the greatest gift of my life.

For the most part, my gender condition was no one's fault. In the end I was given lipstick and learned to wear it and if it wasn't for DES I may not be around to experience the gender euphoria I feel on occasion. 

I wonder if DES had come with a transgender warning label if Mom would have decided to take it.