In the Wrong Room

 

JJ Hart

The first time I realized I was in the wrong room was when I was out as my transfeminine self in one of my regular venues when somehow, I found myself with a group of four men. Let me preface my thoughts by telling you the men were just having typical men type discussions on sports and work and no one was a rocket scientist.

Very quickly, after I was made to feel below their dignity to even acknowledge me, I went away with my first lesson learned. Stay out of male conversations unless invited, and even then, don’t expect your opinion to count for much. It seemed I had entered a place where my impostor syndrome was replaced by out and out rejection. I wasn’t worried about being in a group of ciswomen being worried about what to say and do, to entering a place where I was not wanted at all. I just can tell you this, I was never treated rudely by the women I faced in my first girl’s nights out as I was during my impromptu meetings with men. Which helped me to understand I was headed in the right direction on my gender path.

It could be too, that I did not give men a fair break. I was not attractive enough to be desirable, and I had not developed any sort of personality, yet which gave me any other positive characteristics. In other words, I was still an unsure new trans woman who had just left the men’s club, and it showed. At least to a transgender man who asked me out to a dinner date and later he said I was scared and nervous on our date. He was right, and I was just going through being in the wrong room as myself.

Fortunately, that feeling of being in the wrong room did not last long as I grew more adjusted to my new life as a transfeminine person. My inner self kept telling me I was in the right room at the right time as I felt natural doing it. As we all know, confidence plays a huge part in being successful as transgender women and transgender men and when I gained the confidence, I needed to say to the world who I was, there was no turning back. The more I accomplished in my new life, the more I realized that my male life was living a lie. The problem was that just deciding I was not going to live that lie any longer was not going to be as simple as just doing it. Because I had accumulated so much male baggage along the way as I fought to succeed in a world I never really wanted.

Even though I was fighting to switch rooms, the battle was never easy because of the major roadblocks which were in my way. Primarily, the roadblocks came from my second wife who was struggling to maintain her marriage to a man who did not want to be one and my male self who was fighting for his total existence. To make matters worse, my life as a man was not that bad all of the time, so the gender decisions I needed to make were so much more brutal in nature.

When I finally found myself in the right room as a trans woman, I found I needed to furnish it into what I needed to live. It was totally barren of anything I would need to live successfully, and I had to start by doing the best I could to present well as a woman and then learn the basics of survival in a world run by ciswomen. It was their room I was trying to be given admission to but not before I earned my way in.

That was when I needed to take a deep dive into myself and produce more of a one-sided effort to do something than I had ever tried before. Always before, when I was trying something new, I would get discouraged and quit, but this time I could just not and kept trying because I knew my dream of living as a transgender woman was certainly achievable. Before I did, I needed to somehow be allowed into other women’s lives and rooms to see how they lived. I was especially interested in the women who were not especially attractive because they showed me the importance looks do not have to play in a woman’s life. There were plenty of other things in a ciswoman’s multi-layered life to concentrate on other than beauty.

Since I lacked beauty, I needed to decorate my room with it, I needed to seek out other ways to do it. Such as was I treating other women the way I wanted to be treated became a main goal. A smile took me so much farther than my old male scowl designed to keep people away that I could not believe it.

Once I learned the difficult lessons of feminine decoration, I no longer had any vestiges of being in the wrong room. In fact, the deep belief that I was in the right room kept me going through out the trying times of legal name changes to the fun times of HRT therapy which sent me into the second puberty of my life. It turned out, it was the one my body was always waiting for.

Rooms are always difficult to plan for as you decorate a new one. Especially if your gender workbook is blank and you are struggling to catch up. The paintings on my walls were of my friends who showed me the way as well as my wife Liz and daughter who finally kicked me out of my old room and into a bright new one. As you can tell, they all mean so much to me.

As all of you do who follow along with my experiences and daily goals on a regular basis. Without you all, everything I do would be worthless, so thank you! And I hope the room that you are in is not a closet you are trying to find your way out of. Hopefully, you can do it soon.

 

 

 

 

When I Quit Recognizing Myself

 

Image from Vinicus amiz
Amano on UnSplash

When I thought of the subject of this post, I thought that was an easy topic. From the very first day I had a glimpse of myself in the family’s full-length hallway mirror I partially thought I did not recognize who I was looking at. Sadly, even with all the work I was doing to look like one of the pretty girls I admired so much, I still looked like my male self-wearing a dress with makeup. Most likely, the biggest problem in looking like a girl back then was the lack of access I had to my hair. I was cursed in being raised in an era when young boys’ hair style was short or shorter and a crew cut was considered a longer style. Dad took my brother and I to the barber with him every couple of weeks and we got our burr haircuts without question. If you don’t know, burr means almost no hair which was decidedly not what I really wanted on my head. I had no choice but to go along with the program, and had to use my imagination, along with a towel when I cross-dressed as my authentic self. Who was just learning to express herself. Even if it was only to be to myself.

It turned out to be years later that I began to be skilled enough to begin to match my exterior self with my feminine inner feelings. I had help from a professional makeup artist I will never forget who had the skill set to show me what I doing wrong with my makeup and the verbal skills to explain to me how to improve my life through ideas such as foundation basics to cover my beard and contouring my face to bring out the highlights I did not know I had. When he was finished, I truly did not recognize who I was looking at in the mirror. Plus, I really enjoyed all the compliments I received on my appearance from several of the attendees at the transgender-crossdresser social mixer I was attending. Once I was given that basic skill set to make myself up, I was able to start buying higher end cosmetics which flattered me even more.

In many ways, for a while when I did not recognize myself in the mirror, it scared me. Because I was losing touch with all my male past which had made me…me, for my entire life. I was shocked the first time I lost some of my basic male privileges I had always taken for common I would have such as my intelligence when I talked to men and my personal safety when I found myself in contact with a toxic one. Quickly, I needed to come up with a plan to support my new life as a transgender person without the old ways which I had been successful with until I could develop new ones.

Of course, too, there were my usual problems dealing with gender dysphoria when I thought I had done a wonderful makeup job only to see my male self-looking back at me in the mirror. Then, to add insult to injury, if I was being successful in navigating the world as a transgender woman, my impostor syndrome would set it. Impostor syndrome to me made me feel as if I was an impostor in the world of ciswomen and should not feel as if I belonged there at all. Who knew, just being a trans woman would bring all the baggage with it. When I ceased to recognize myself, I learned all the rest the hard way.

Even with all the new roadblocks, I began to do more than just survive in the new feminine world I found myself in. I began to thrive as I started to carve out a new exciting life where no one knew anything about my past as an unhappy man. I never let on to my past except to let strangers know I had been married in my past and had lost my spouse to a heart attack without ever mentioning which gender she was. As well as mentioning I did have a daughter when it came to family discussions. Technically, even though I did not birth her, I was in the delivery room for her birth which was as close as I could come with the circumstances I had to deal with.

Finally, I arrived at the point when I cherished the times when I did not recognize my old self and hated the times when I could still see his image slipping through when I looked for the first time in the morning in the mirror before I had a chance to put on any makeup. Rather than feel anymore of the pain of gender dysphoria, I got to the point of thinking I was stuck with what the world had given me as far as my appearance went. The idea I used worked well because I felt I never looked as bad as I thought and certainly not as good as I arrived at the point where I was erasing my male self for good.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the role gender affirming hormones or HRT played in all my progress in my lifetime male to female femininization project. While the hormones did not make me anymore or less of a trans woman. They certainly made me feel the process more. Almost immediately, as my skin began to soften and my breasts began to grow, I began to feel emotions flow through my body that I had never felt before in my life. My facial angles also began to soften, allowing me to do less contouring with my makeup when I went out was one of the good things which happened. Along with me not recognizing myself when all a sudden it was me who was reaching for her coat saying she was too cold in a venue, and I was not making it up.

I guess you say I covered about as much ground as I could erasing my old male self without going through any major (or minor) operations. But I did make it to the point where I did not recognize any of my old self anymore.

 

 

Gender is a Basic Human Instinct

 

JJ Hart, Birthday Dinner.

One of the most basics of human instincts is gender. It comes with us at birth and is then (right or wrong) reinforced by our families. External factors kick in to put us in a tight gender box and keep us there. How we are treated as boys and girls, goes a long way in how our future is shaped. In my mind boys were always told to get out there and conquer the world while girls were coddled in a pretty world. It took me decades of interactions with ciswomen to learn that was not true. In their own ways, women face the same competitive challenges as men, just coming from different angles or perspectives. I told one of the experiences I had yesterday when I waded into the ciswomen’s world for the first time and discovered how brutal passive aggressive behavior could be.  

Examples include boys competing more physically with each other while girls learn to compete just as hard but in a more passive nature. One way or another, gender as an instinct is ingrained into us quite early in life and is difficult to change. One of the reasons transgender women and trans men are so misunderstood in the world today. Not to mention the fact that we are very rare, and very few people have ever met a transgender person. I know my parents from the “greatest generation” were not great enough with me to understand how their first-born son wanted to be their daughter. Taking a page from the great Christmas movie “A Christmas Story”, I never wanted the BB Gun that “Ralphie” wanted in the movie, but I got one anyhow. Instead of the baby doll I really wanted. All my gender instincts were kicking in although I was not sure I knew exactly what was going on, I knew something was definitely wrong.

It was not until I began exploring the public as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman, did I start to understand what was going on with my own gender instincts. Facing up to the fact I never belonged in the male world as an active participant at all never came easy for me. Mainly because I had worked so hard to survive in a gender I did not want to be. To make matters worse, I was becoming more of a success in the male world. Even though I was so self-destructive I kept tearing down all the successes I kept building up as soon as I achieved them.

In my case, I think the war I waged with my internal gender instincts was much worse than the battles I faced for acceptance as a transfeminine person in the public’s eye. Even though they were major hurdles, obstacles such as confidence and impostor syndrome were holding me back. It seemed no matter how successful I was in my new world, I still felt like an impostor or outsider looking in. It took me quite a while to overcome my doubts and feel like I had as much right as the next woman to be in the space I was in. Over and over, I felt I was growing up into the woman I was always destined to be. It was just taking me longer to do it because of many external factors such as a whole train load of male baggage I had managed to accumulate in my life.

Along the way too, I was becoming a keen observer of the public’s gender instincts. Primarily ciswomen who for some reason had no problem with me as men nearly completely left me alone. By doing so, I was able to read other women like I had never been able to do before. Slowly but surely, my life began to turn full circle. Instead of going out to be alone, I was going out to socialize with other women who were mainly lesbians. They taught me a whole different set of gender instincts, mainly revolving on where I stood with the other half of the population, men. While other transgender women I knew were struggling to be validated by a man, I was flourishing when I was validated by women. It obviously is not a world which worked for everyone, but it worked for me.

With all the help I was receiving, I made it to a point where I did not consider myself trans when I was out in the world. I was just me, and I had all the confidence to go with it. It took me over a half a century to completely figure out my gender instincts, but I did it with some powerful help such as HRT or gender affirming hormones. The meds I was approved for helped me to understand what ciswomen go through in their lives such as hot flashes and other effects of female puberty. When I tried to talk about it to my women friends all they did was laugh and say welcome to their world. What I could not say was how happy I was to be there.

Cracking the code of human gender instincts is very difficult to do because it is so deeply ingrained in all of us and in many ways, it is a selfish thing to do. It takes a special person to understand when you have to immerse yourself in the other binary gender to just survive in life. If you are blessed to have found such a person, be sure to cherish and hang on to them because they are so rare.

In the meantime, keep your head on a swivel and be on the outlook for ways to improve your gender instincts. It is a difficult process and never one to be taken lightly. For me, at least it was a lifetime journey to finally discover something I already knew I refused to accept. I had my gender identity totally backwards and ended up paying the price for years. Just because I was afraid to face myself.

 

 

A Spectator in my Own Life

 

Image from Ryan 
Mangino on UnSplash.

There were many times during my life as a transgender woman, I felt as if I was a spectator looking in on the action.

The whole process was very strange to say the least as I was thinking, just who was that person. Plus, having the chance to think what I was doing was a totally different sensation. The entire problem stemmed I think, from the earlier years of my life when I was positive, I was two different people all together. One male and one female. It was not until much later on when I began to realize I was always feminine and fought all things male when I could.

Slowly but surely, I began to realize the truth and began to notice my cross-dressing nights out involved much more than just attempting to look the best I could. My spectator began slowly to change away from watching a male life unfold to watching a female one do the same. Helping me were the girls-night-out invitations I received. Following a bout of impostor's syndrome, I suffered through, I settled down and enjoyed myself. When I came to the conclusion I had just as much right there as the next woman. We had all came to our right of womanhood through different paths and mine was just different.

Finally, I grew tired of just being a spectator in my feminine life and wanted more. More meant being a spectator in my male life. Since I was still working and living part-time as a man, it meant I really needed to concentrate on my speech and movements when I was still a guy. In fact, there were a couple of embarrassing times when I was called Ma'am at work when I was in male mode. 

Early on, being a spectator in my own life was certainly a curiosity. Especially, when I thought I was just a cross dresser and putting on a dress was just a hobby. The closer I moved to true transgender womanhood, the more I learned that was not true. As I always say, the key moment in my life came when I realized I was not a man cross dressing as a woman, I was a woman cross dressing as a man. The tragic part was I went through male puberty and was testosterone poisoned as I grew up. I did not appreciate when my soft body turned to hardened angles as well as the other male changes but there was nothing I could do.

When I found my gender destination, I stopped being a spectator and began to be a more involved participant. For me, flipping my gender became an intensely frightening but natural part of my life. Living my dream was so dominant in my thought pattern, I had no problem with girls-nights-out and even could not wait for them. My newfound confidence as a woman completely pushed any idea of me being a spectator aside and opened the door for me to be a more well-rounded participant. Of course, confidence always grows more confidence, and I grew to the point where I had nothing else to prove to the other women I was around.

As I look back, being a spectator in my own life as sometimes a necessary but very different part of my existence. The entire process sometimes helped me to understand where I was going towards my dream of transgender womanhood.  

It is NOT a Choice

Image from Alexander Grey 
on UnSplash

I still get aggravated when someone says being transgender is a choice.

Realistically, why would I have ever chosen to live the life I am living. Would I have made the choice to give up everything I worked so hard to achieve just to put on a dress, makeup and heels and attempt to live a feminine life. All the material benefits I had acquired as part of my life as a white male privileges disappeared for good, if I wanted them to to or not.

Suddenly, I learned the hard way what it was like to have my personal security threatened as well as being mansplained when I attempted to insert my feelings on a topic I knew quite a bit about. Quickly I discovered many examples. I nearly found out the hard way, if I dressed too provocatively at a mixer, I would be cornered and harassed by an over bearing transvestite admirer. In an instant, I learned how it would be to be a helpless woman being overwhelmed by a much larger man. Not a pleasant experience and it was not all of my lessons. One night when I was blissfully minding my own business on a dark city sidewalk, I was approached by two sketchy men wanting a handout. Fortunately, I still had a lone five dollar bill for them and they went on their way. From then on my new feminine common sense began to grow and I started to develop the gender protective sense all women acquire as part of their life experiences.

None of what I was experiencing was a choice and not part of me being validating  myself as a woman. All I needed to know was I had no choice but to follow my path if I was able to look myself in the mirror and know I was doing the right thing. Coupled with the natural feelings I was experiencing, my supposed choice was made. 

I knew over a span of time, I would learn to deal with being mansplained was something I just had to deal with as a transgender woman. I will never forget the day I had to sit in a tow truck and be subjected to being bored when the driver was telling me how the truck worked. Finally, I gave him my best blond act until he finished all his rock bottom explanations. On one of my few dates with men, quickly I found I knew nothing about subjects such as sports and politics.

Why would I choose to be something as difficult as being a woman? My entire life became dedicated to proving the world wrong. I could carve out and experience a new life as a transgender woman and thrive. But again, I needed to prove all the naysayers wrong. The only natural feminine attribute I started with was my brain. Which for some reason, kept telling me I was doing life completely wrong because I was living it as a male instead of my more natural female. Finally, all the pressure to change and all the stress to explore the world as a trans woman. I was living in a world of alternate facts which was increasingly too complex to handle. I came to the point where I felt as an impostor when I went out of the house as a man. Can you imagine that? Feeling as an impostor when you attempt to live as your birth gender. It happened to me.

All the process proved to an outsider is gender issues are not a choice. During the process none of us understands, we are born into system we never asked for. The path is often a bumpy one with plenty of curves and stop signs. We have to wait our turn before we move on. 

For any number of reasons, the true number of transgender women and trans men may never be known. One thing is for sure, there are many more hidden transgender individuals waiting to take their turn and enter the world. Regardless of all the negative publicity we receive, transgender people have been around forever and will remain a part of the human experience. After all, we don't have a choice.

Trans Girls in Women Only Spaces

Archive Image, Girls Night Out.
I am on the Bottom Left.

First, we have to describe as women's only spaces as primarily rest rooms but there is so much more to consider. For example, girl's nights out, trips to beauty salons or any other spaces dominated by cis-women. 

To consider being  in women's only spaces, we also need to look at the impact of impostor syndrome. Or, when you think you have arrived at your destination, only to think you are an impostor and don't belong there at all. Often the syndrome stops you from enjoying your dream of being out with and being accepted by a group of women.  

Now, lets start with the most problematic space at all, the women's rest room. Depending on where you live, just using the women's room for it's intended use is becoming against the law. Even if it is not, just becoming adjusted to the new etiquette of using a completely new rest room can be a problem. Even though many of us have used the women's room for years, there are still basics to remember. First and foremost don't forget to look any other women you may encounter in the eye, smile and speak. It's OK to do this, although it is completely opposite to do in the men's room. Other "musts" include always remembering to never put your purse on the floor, and always be careful to look before you sit down for stray moisture left behind by a previous occupant.

Perhaps one of the biggest actions to always remember is to stop and wash your hands even though you might think you have been "discovered" by another woman and are doing your best to vacate the room.  Back in the day when I was much younger, I even went to the point of carrying an extra feminine hygiene product in my purse if I was approached by a suspecting woman who was testing me. Even though, this list may seem excessive, I am sure there are those of you who could add to it. Such as the obvious. Such as always sitting down to pee and diverting your flow the best you can to match the woman in the next stall over. I think a larger portion of cis-women have used a restroom with a transgender woman in their life and not known it or even cared. IF the trans woman followed all the rules. 

One women's only space I was challenged in was when my daughter gifted me with my first trip to her upscale beauty spa. Since my hair had grown to a point when I could have it styled, she thought it was time to have it styled and colored. Of course I immediately agreed even though I was scared to death of the unknown. Plus, I was extra embarrassed when she met me there and it was the first time she had seen me in all my glory as a feminine transgender woman. Looking back, there were a line of chairs with stylists which went on forever in a long straight room and the only other man in sight was one of the owners who I already knew as one of the local famous drag queens. So the estrogen level of the place was at an all time high. Before I knew it, I was shown samples of hair color and styles which I had to try to decide on. Somehow I managed to decide on a streaked, layered reddish blonde look and I was amazed at the result. I knew right then why so many women make a hair maintenance stop as a regular appointment in their beauty routine. When I relaxed and started to enjoy the pampering I was receiving, I had never felt so feminine in my life and could not wait to make my next appointment in my new unique woman only space.

Along the way, I was able to join in with various invitations to girls' night out get-togethers. They ranged from women in my approximate age range to those who were much younger. Although I never reached the pinnacle of feminine acceptance such as bridal parties or baby showers, I still immensely enjoyed my experiences...once I overcame my bouts of imposter syndrome. 

All of my experiences in women only spaces helped me to improve my confidence as a transgender woman and deepened my belief I was much more than a part time cross dresser. I had reached a point in my life I had always dreamed of and never thought I could make it. Plus, because of the length of this post, I won't mention again the lesbian impact on my life once I was included in their spaces. I will save it for a later time.

Trans Displacement or an Impostor?

Image from Tengyart
on UnSplash.

Sometimes, even when I am successful living the life of a transgender woman in a space I had always could ever dream of, I wonder if I am merely an impostor.

Am I taking the place of another cis-woman who could be living in my place? And did I deserve to be there. Then, I come to my senses and think no, all of that is crazy. Instead of taking another woman's place, I was replacing a man who did not approve of his lifestyle at all and wanted to change it. The only displacing I was doing came at the expense of myself.

I certainly paid my dues learning what I needed to do to complete the process. My life was made up of too many blind corners to count. Once I conquered one blind corner, seemingly another would magically appear. Many, I had no idea of what I needed to face to move forward. When I did become relatively successful in my quest to change my gender, perhaps the cruelest joke at all came along. It happened when I began to suffer what is called "impostor syndrome" or ending up in the middle of a girls night out party feeling as if I was out of place. Finally, I overcame my reservations and was able to enjoy myself. I deserved to be there as much as the next woman and I was not displacing anyone. 

Sadly, there were more blind corners than I can remember but I managed to keep my life together and proceed as fast as I could. I still had too many self destructive moments. Mostly, when I did all I could to try to out myself and ruin all I knew of my male life. I drove too fast and drank way too much and even went into the restaurant I managed cross dressed because I thought I could get away with it. Long story short, I didn't and I put my very good employment in jeopardy. I wasn't satisfied going to the established venues I was going to out of town and wanted more and more. All along, I was doing more and more and didn't realize it. I needed to learn all the nuances of being a successful transgender woman in the world but wasn't patient enough to do it. Mainly, my communication skills in all the various worldly situations I could put myself in needed improvement. 

It was frustrating when I thought life was good and the idea of me being a gender impostor snuck in. Why was I out in the world trying to be a woman in a space inhabited by cis women. Many of whom did not appreciate my being in their world. I developed a thick skin over time and finally decided the women who did not like me for no apparent reason (other than the obvious) had problems of their own which did not include me. Once I developed my thick shell, my confidence as a transgender woman increased and life was better.

After a lifetime of experience, I made it out of my own head and into the world. When I did, I was able to put any ideas of trans displacement behind me. In no way was I an impostor and I had earned my position as a woman as much as any other cis-woman. Females aren't women at birth and they are socialized into the experience the same as I was. I just happened to take another path. One of which often gave me more insight into life because I lived a life on both sides of the gender border. I even found myself giving advice to other women on how to communicate better with their men. I was flattered and any idea of me being a gender impostor began to disappear. 

At the same time, I finally stopped encountering any idea of displacement and went on living my dream life I never thought I would ever get to. It was always my impossible dream to live as a woman (trans or not) and I began to ignore the naysayers. Life became more livable and pleasurable and all imposters turned out to be other women in my world.

Transgender Closure?

Image from Nick Bolton
on UnSplash.

 Sometimes it seems as if closure to a transgender woman never comes.

In the very early days in the mirror as I cross dressed, I thought I had reached closure when gender euphoria kicked in when I admired myself. It did until the pressure built to cross dress again and again. Predictably what happened was, I became so frustrated with the process of moving back and forth between the male and female binary genders, I decided to purge (throw away) all of my feminine belongings and go back to a male life. The problem was, deep down I knew purging was not going to solve my transgender issues. Plus very certainly, I was getting no closure and I would always go back to the mirror.

Through it all, I was very naïve and thought closure was around every corner as I continued along my gender path. It turned out, all the small victories I celebrated had nothing to do with winning the war and having any closure at all. The prime example I can recall came when I decided to transition from a cross dresser to a transgender woman. When I was beginning to be successful, I thought I finally had it made when something came along and changed my mind. Foremost among life changing closure experiences occurred when I learned what my second wife warned me about. I really had no idea of what a woman went through in life and I had to learn before I could be accepted. 

I needed to lose my impostor feminine syndrome on several levels. Even though, I couldn't have things such as periods and pregnancies, I had other problems to deal with as a transgender woman to pay my dues. Primarily, losing all my male privileges was what I gave up first to join the world of women. I didn't expect any special privileges to be let in, I just wanted to be given the chance to let my feminine inner soul flourish in the world. She waited nearly a half a century to live and had learned a lot. Even still, I was viewed with a certain amount of mis-trust by several women who I think thought I could run home and go back to my old male life. There was no easy way to prove to them I had given all my male clothes away and there was no turning back for me. 

Once I broke down gender doors thanks to the help of certain close friends, I was able to enjoy more and more activities such girls nights out without impostor syndrome setting in. Finally, I was feeling more and more closure from my old male life. In many ways, I had insulated him from myself altogether. Even more so when I started gender affirming hormones and started to feel the full effects. I started to understand aspects of a woman's life such as emotions all the way to simple things such as the influences such as temperature changes on the body. Suddenly, I discovered women were not just being sissies when they said they were cold all the time except when they were having hot flashes which I went through also. 

As I was going through all the changes in life hormones sent me through, closure set in and I knew there was never going to be any going back. It took me awhile to realize the closure I was attempting represented the most intelligent decision I ever made with my life. I didn't have to worry about any more impostor syndrome because I knew I had paid my dues. 

Now the closure I need to look forward to is doing whatever I can to insure my final years are as smooth as possible. Much of it will be out of my control so I will just have to do the best I can try to pay it forward with organizations such as the "Alzheimer's Organization." My Dad passed from a very ugly case of Dementia years ago, so I hope I won't have to put my loved ones through the same thing. The rest, however is mainly out of my control with no chance at closure. 

Impostor Syndrome?

 

Halloween Girls Night Out
Jessie Hart Archives 

In many ways, this post is an extension of yesterdays work. 

Impostor syndrome to me means not feeling at home in a space where you worked hard to find yourself. It is especially true when it comes to transgender women and trans men. Specifically I know a couple of trans men who suffer from impostor syndrome even though they are undetectable in their adopted authentic gender presentations. I am fond of telling one of them, they have transitioned into better men than I have ever known. 

Even still, imposter syndrome is difficult to shake. My earliest problems with I.S. came when I was invited to girls nights out. First of all, I was petrified and when my fears quieted down, I could finally grasp where I was and I was living my dream. Most importantly, I did not want to turn my dream into a nightmare and did I really belong there. After all, my path to womanhood was so different than all the other cis-gender women I was with. As I said in yesterdays' post, most all of the women in the group accepted me without questioning my past. I say most, because there was one woman one night who made no secret of her dislike for me. I did my best to ignore her or on the other hand, return the favor. My largest goal was not to let her ruin my experience. Which was so so fragile to begin with.

To this day I still suffer from gender impostor syndrome on occasion. I don't know why after all these years of living as a transgender woman fulltime why I would but I do. Perhaps it is because all the years I lived through to get to this point at times seemed as if I would never make it. All the years of going home with tears in my eyes from public scorn took their toll on me. All the years of trying to know myself when the answer was right in front of me all the time. Including the days when restroom privilege's were difficult to come by also. I had the police called on me all the way to being screamed at by a transphobic woman one night in a venue where I thought I was safe in. 

It has always been my theory that genetic women (or men for that matter) are just born female or male and need to grow into being women or men. As humans we need the time and experience to grow into our mature gender selves and sadly, many never make it.

I suppose this is the main reason I still fall for the occasional bout of gender impostor syndrome. I just haven't had the chance to pay all my dues I need to pay on the bumpy journey out of my closet and entering the world as a novice transgender woman. Even though I have spent over a half century of work to arrive here.

Happily, my battle with imposter syndrome seems to be almost at an end. I now have the confidence to realize I belong in a space as much as the next woman. I just have to continue to adjust to the way women are approached in the world. It was my own personal journey to my own unique trans-womanhood and I own it totally.    

Thanksgiving and Beyond

Image from Kevin Dowling
on UnSplash

 As much as Thanksgiving was always a given as a time to meet up with family and eat a delicious feast.  Early on, the day was more enjoyable because one of my right wing nephews at that time did not want to start a political argument with me. 

Through it all, in the back of my mind, I knew something was wrong. In my own way, I was engaging in impostor syndrome. I wasn't the man I was portraying to be. Each year I used alcohol to dim the pain and move on the best I could. Even though I had very little control over Thanksgiving itself, there was a day I still thought eventually I may have some control over. The day in question was the Black Friday shopping event my second wife always insisted on going to. This all happened in the latter part of 2005.

Finally, I waited long enough or persisted long enough I was able to try out a Black Friday shopping experience on my own at a well known mall close to where I lived. My opportunity to cross another feminine experience off of my novice transgender woman check list came when I learned my wife (who worked in retail) had to work on Black Friday morning. Suddenly, since I didn't go in to my job until late in the afternoon, I had my chance to experience the shopping madness which was Black Friday as a woman.

When the day finally arrived and my wife left for work, my time to get dressed in my best sweater, skirt and comfortable shoes, added my blond wig, sensible make up and was ready to go. I was excited about finally having the chance to again live my dream. 

Once I arrived at the mall, predictably parking spots were at a premium but I finally found one. From there I had to gather my courage and enter the mall. Once I was in the shopping area, all my nerves faded away and I was able to concentrate on the relatively short time I had to fulfill a long term dream of mine. I wanted to experience the estrogen laden atmosphere of Black Friday.

All too soon, as I browsed a few of the stores for a gift or two, I found in particular no one paid me any attention at all. It was so crowded with mainly women, I was able to blend in with no problem. It was time for me to return to my boring unwanted male life and move on back to my impostor syndrome. I was learning I was never a guy cross dressing as a woman. I was a woman cross dressing as a guy.  

After I went into my work and became immersed in my job, at the least I was still mentally able to bask in the glow of being able to live out one of my big feminine dreams... to experience a Black Friday shopping experience as a transgender woman. As it turned out, my start to the holiday season was destined to grow and grow into one of the major holidays for me. Replacing even Halloween. Throughout the month of December, I will be writing more in depth about my times as I grew into a fulltime trans woman.

Impostor Symdrome

 

Photo from the Jessie Hart
Collection on a dinner date.

To me, impostor syndrome means once you are out and about as your authentic self  in public and all of a sudden you suffer from sneaking suspicions all is not right begins to influence you. It's similar to completing all the hard work it takes to prepare yourself for meeting the public. I vividly remember stressing out over the smallest details of my hair, makeup and clothing. When I did, the most amazing thing happened, I began to make it in the world as a transgender woman. For the most part, I was walking on cloud nine in my heels I wore all the time back in the day. 

Perhaps I was just waiting for the other shoe to fall when it came to dealing with the public. Normally, all the problems came about when I was engaging with other women, As I remember, the conversation started quite normally and as I tried my best to modulate my voice and sound feminine, I could see in the person's eyes they were thinking something was wrong. Somehow, someway I couldn't seem to close the deal I was a woman. As I considered again what I was doing wrong, I thought I had (or was) covering all the bases of why I couldn't feel entirely comfortable.

Looking back, I don't think I considered the most important parts of what was causing my impostor syndrome. I know I was very impatient and on occasion expected miracles when I went public for the first times. I didn't take into consideration how long it takes a cis woman to grow from being a female into living as a woman. It is not an easy task or even a given for either binary gender to grow up and be a responsible human being. Plus, even through I had been cross dressing as a transvestite in front of the mirror for years before I went into the world, I missed many of the basics I would need to survive and hopefully prosper. I never faced the fact I never had any of the peer or Mom influence on my fashion and public appearance. To put it mildly, there was quite a bit of catching up to do.

I also had to overcome the initial bad experiences I went through when I first escaped my dark lonely closet. I needed to try to forget all the times I was laughed at or stared at in public as well as bad restroom experiences when I had the cops called on me. Even though I have used the women's room  with no problems for years now, I still have the slightest fear of push back when all I am doing is going to the bathroom. Impostor syndrome at it's worst even though I have been in so many different restroom situations over the years, Again with no problems. 

Since I was able to live an unwanted but fairly successful male life for so many years, I am asking too much for my impostor syndrome to just go away in my feminine life. I have every bit of a right to occupy a spot in a woman's circle as any other cis woman. I just earned my rights in a different way. The problem I often have is the only person I have to convince about my femininity is myself. Impostor syndrome is hard to shake after all. After all these years of letting my feminine person out of her closet she should be allowed to totally rule my world without all these distractions. 

All Quiet

 For once I am happy to write it's all quiet on the gender front around here. It's like I am some sort of vacation.

Yesterday I had my virtual therapist appointment and we talked about almost everything but my gender dysphoria. Rarely do I feel comfortable in my own skin, now it seems I have a brief respite from my gender dysphoria. Finally a chance to breathe deeply and recharge myself. 

Of course I have asked the question why now? I feel as if several factors are coming into play. The first of which is I feel good with the path my hormone replacement therapy (HRT) has taken me. My hips are continuing to develop as I have taken the torso mass down with the diet Liz and I are on. To refresh your memories, the diet is no joke as it cuts out all sugar and flour from our diet. Conservatively, I have taken off twenty five plus pounds. Liz and I are heading to my daughter's in laws for Thanksgiving, so I am anxious to show off my developing feminine figure. My first wife will be there and she has become quite heavy so I want to show off for her. I shouldn't be too evil though because the last time I saw her, she commented how good I was looking. 

As we all know, looks aren't everything when it comes to gender dysphoria. As I told my therapist, I am feeling better because of my interaction with the public. The last time we went out to dinner, I had no problem communicating with the server and he didn't seem to have any negative problems with me. Of course we don't go out much anymore and most of the time we still wear a mask so the chances of interaction are slim. In a couple weeks I will be part of a group presenting to a master's level sociology class at nearby Miami University of Ohio. So I will have the chance to really get out in public. 

The problem I have is waiting for the other shoe to drop. What I am referring to is waiting for my dysphoria to return. I have lived with it for most of my long life and it has become a part of me. Plus I have never been one to face life on it's own terms without questioning what is around the next corner.

Perhaps also I am moving past gender dysphoria into some sort of impostor syndrome stage of my life. Deep down do I feel even though I may look/act the feminine role, have I earned the right to be here. To be clear, I have because I went through all the changes which cis women experience, Mine were just different. I have always felt women just didn't become women because they were born into it. They had to grow and become women. Just like some boys actually become men. 

All in all, it's too early to speculate if I have any impostor's syndrome. In the meantime, I am going to try to enjoy my quiet period the best I can.   

Retribution

 Well, yesterday turned out to be quite the day. My first trip to the dentist came and went, along with a trip to the phone store to replace my cell phone which did not survive a toilet swim. Outside of the obvious necessities, the day seemed like a "re-coming " out day for my fulltime transgender feminine self.

The dentist was first. As I mentioned before, the information form I filled out only had room for three genders...male, female and "unspecified." I chose the unspecified box and prepared myself for an appointment full of gender confusion. After all, this was one of a very few times in the past year I had spent any significant time without a mask. As bad as my teeth were, I didn't want to show them off which was impossible in a dentist's office. 

It turned out I didn't have to worry when I heard the woman who checked me in respond to the hygienist who was working on me as "she." My heart soared as my mouth hurt. 

To make a long story short, as I suspected, my top teeth (or what was left of them) were shot and my bottom teeth were in good shape. So, I was a candidate for top dentures. Subtitled,  goodbye stimulus checks. Finally, I will have my smile back.

After heading back home to pick Liz up, we went to the phone store. The young clerk who waited on us had no problem with calling me she and her. After another hit to my bank account, I walked out with a new phone. 

The whole day was wonderful in that it recharged my gender batteries. For once I didn't feel any inner imposter guilt when I was called "she" or "her." I felt it was my retribution for all the years of transgender struggle and gender dysphoria I went through to arrive where I am. 

One thing the pandemic taught me was how much I needed the public gender feedback I received to survive. I know who I am every morning when I wake up but sometimes it takes a little reinforcement from the public to let me know the real me. 

Impostor Syndrome

 If you feel "Impostor Syndrome" in addition to, or part of gender dysphoria this post from Kira Moore's Closet may help.

To me in my past, Imposter Syndrome has crossed gender lines many times in my life. For example, as I climbed the professional ladder in my business profession as a guy, even though I had nearly reached the top, feeling as if I did was still difficult.

Actually,  the term dates back to the early 1970's when it was mentioned by two women :

One of its early introductions was in a 1978 article titled, "The Impostor Phenomenon in High Achieving Women: Dynamics and Therapeutic Intervention," by psychologists Dr. Pauline R. Clance and Dr. Suzanne A. Imes. “Impostor syndrome is a set of beliefs that leave you feeling doubtful of your skills, ability, and whether you deserve to be at the table, and that you will inevitably be exposed as a fraud,” says Dr. Ayanna Abrams, Psy.D., Licensed Clinical Psychologist and owner of Ascension Behavioral Health in Atlanta, GA.

 Outside of the clinical look at the process, the whole idea to me brings back memories of my "girls' nights outs." Outside of being scared to death, I kept having the deep seated fear of not belonging. Even though the conversations still involved me and didn't really have any of the mystical gender fantasies I had manufactured in my mind and held onto over the years. In other words, if I could finally make it  into the "woman's" gender sandbox, I could gain so much knowledge. Indirectly I did.

The article goes on to explain how the syndrome is extra difficult for marginalized communities such as the LGBTQ groups to overcome. And, how becoming part of a community can help. 

Agsain, using myself as an example, I think I was able to overcome my idea I was somehow an impostor in the cis woman sandbox because I started to understand many of the cis women respected me for making the transition into being a full time transgender woman.  Even though I still had my detractors in the group, I was overwhelmingly made to feel welcome. 

Once I finally came to the conclusion I could never fully play in the girls sandbox as a native, I had earned my way in as a woman of transgender experience. Once I arrived, I lost the impostor syndrome for good.

To read more, go here.