Earning my Way into the Sandbox of Women

 

Image from Juli
Kosalapova on
UnSplash.

I call being accepted in the feminine world of ciswomen around me, as being able to play in their sandbox.

Getting a chance was similar to living a dream and very difficult for me to do. To begin with, I needed to lose whatever weight I could off of my very male dominate frame and take better care of my skin, so I could use less makeup. I desperately wanted to be pretty but accomplished it as naturally as I could. Motivation to do both came easily for me because I was obsessed with doing something very well in life that I cared so deeply about. Surprising even myself, I was able to shed nearly fifty pounds as well start moisturizing daily after I shaved. Obviously, the weight loss helped more dramatically when I could shop for a better selection of stylish women’s clothes in my new size and the decrease in makeup I needed spoke for itself when I presented better in the world.

Even with those positive results behind me, I was still very naïve and had very little knowledge of what I would have to do to be let in to play in the sandbox by the alpha female gatekeepers. As my second wife was always fond of telling me after major fights, we had that I made a terrible woman. Then she added she was not talking about appearance. Which was good since I had just had situations where I was mistaken for a ciswoman to back me up. Then I was confused, if it was not my feminine appearance holding me back, what was it? What would make me a better woman after all.

From that point on, I set out on a mission to understand what she was telling me but I had a major drawback…I was still living the vast majority of my life as a man and as such, ciswomen would not allow me back behind the gender curtain. For the most part, I was stuck in my part-time cross-dressing ways until I could find a better way out. The sandbox remained a faraway dream.

The main problem remained. My male ego would not easily let me pull down my male defenses to see and learn what really went on in a women’s world which operated quite nicely with or without male influence. For the longest time, he (me) refused to listen to women the best he could to learn what they were really saying when he was stuck playing the game behind the gender border. I felt as if I was in East-Germany behind the Berlin wall of gender. I knew I wanted to escape but did not have the willpower to do it. I was a victim to my newly discovered transgender hopes and dreams. At that point, I still had not realized how far behind my gender dreams being a victim made me and I still felt sorry for myself because of all my gender dysphoric issues.

As I always point out, it was not until I began to experience my version of womanhood in the public’s eye did anything begin to change for me. All the effort I put into my appearance came back to help me get my high heeled foot in the door with other women. Then the real work began when I needed to communicate and interact with them. What happened was many other ciswomen were encountering me on a regular basis in the venues where I always went, so I needed to develop a stable feminine persona to go with my appearance. What would I call myself and what wigs would I wear every time I went out are prime examples of what I am talking about. I was getting to the point where I was staring my forties in the eye and I knew I was not getting any younger and in the back of my mind, I had a sneaking suspicion that I had lived my life all wrong up to this point.

Rather than bemoan all of the mistakes or missed opportunities I had as a male, I needed to face the fact I was wasting my time as a male anyhow because I was always meant to be female. I went home and wrote in my secret diary that I was not a man cross dressing as a woman; I was a woman doing her best to cross dress as a man and build a life on a house of cards.

The realization of my true gender status enabled me to be my real self to the public and ciswomen responded well to my truthful gender identity. Even if they were curious what I was doing in their world and why I wanted to play in their sandbox and work my way into coveted woman only spaces. Finally, I was coming to the point where I could think I achieved my own womanhood, just in a different way than most ciswomen. I was still relevant to the world and should be allowed to play in the sandbox.

Another big lesson I learned was that once I was in the sandbox, I needed to work harder to stay. One slip up back to my old male self, and I would be labeled an impostor and barred from the box. Faced with the task of starting all over again. To the best of my ability, all of my feminine mannerisms, interactions and vocalizations had to be perfect. I was so afraid most of the time until I finally began to relax and have confidence in myself.

The best part about the entire process was I survived to write about it and hopefully to inspire others in this very trying, difficult time to be a transgender woman to make it also. We all have differing yet similar paths to make it to the women’s sandbox. Just don’t expect the process to be all positive and you can make it by hopefully finding ciswomen who knowingly or unknowingly help you along. Those minor claw marks you might receive like I did down my back were just learning marks and helped me along. More than the women scratching me ever knew.

They helped me to earn my way into playing in the women’s sandbox. The claw marks just equated out to the stripes I earned when I was in the Army.

 

 

 

 

Meeting a Hero's Wife

 

Image from UnSplash.

This is a short post which basically revolves around the unexpected meeting I had yesterday with a very special person.

Nearly every Friday afternoon I attend a LGBTQ support group (virtually) at the Dayton, Ohio Veteran’s Administration hospital.

It is one of the best support groups I have ever been involved in, and it is rare that all the original attendees still come to the meetings. It is a very diverse group with everyone from gay men and lesbians to transgender women like me. Yesterday we had a full house including a new participant who I assumed to be a questioning lesbian ciswoman.

I turned out to be very wrong and as the hour meeting went on the moderator very skillfully brought it out of her why she was there. It turns out she is the wife of a hero. Her spouse is one of the transgender service persons forced to leave the military by the supreme coward who dodged the draft “Captain Bone Spurs.” Better known as president tRumpt. When she told their story, I was wowed and expressed my position that her spouse was a true hero and would she be joining the group in the future.

Since she said, they were just exploring the area for LGBTQ contacts, that would be a real possibility. And I was thrilled to have the chance to meet her. So, I will see if I have the chance after the Christmas holiday when we have our next support session. I will let you know what happens.

In the meantime, my wife Liz and I will not be attending any concerts by the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra this season. Years ago, I tested my courage and even found a sequined formal dress to wear to a holiday concert with Liz. Even though, it was not my favorite form of music, I managed to calm down and enjoy the show when I learned not everyone else was looking at me.

We even stopped for drinks on the way home (in an Uber) so we would not have to drive and had a great time. Since Liz is a Wiccan, we don’t celebrate Christmas as such, we celebrate Yule instead which is close since the Christians “borrowed” Christmas from the pagans in ancient times. Plus, my daughter converted to Judaism years ago, so I am pretty much left out of the Christmas holidays altogether which is a total change from the years with my second wife who was a fanatic. Poetic justice, I guess.

Even though those days are past me, I am fortunate to still have Liz’s family to feel the holiday warmth from. I know many in the transgender community are not so well off this time of year.

For me, just the chance to meet a hero’s wife in person was a huge gift unto itself. As I said, I hope she comes back for more interaction and brings the hero with her.

 

 

Did I Take the Easy Way Out?

Image from Nicloe Geri
on UnSplash. 

 Yesterday I wrote about the seismic gender changes I went through or could have gone through in my life.

After I did, I began to think about where I took short cuts or took the easy way out of my new life as a transfeminine person. Maybe when you read yesterday’s post, you noticed it was primarily about the men who briefly entered and influenced my life as I questioned my own sexuality.

The fact of the matter was, I was afraid of having sex with a man. Mainly because I had never considered it as I was always connected to women. I wondered as I transitioned farther would my sexuality eventually change. Especially when I started HRT or gender affirming hormones. I knew when I did that, I was sacrificing any way of having so called “normal” sex with ciswomen would be gone as long as I was on the hormones. To be honest, I had always looked at sex as a way to please a partner rather than myself, so losing my sex act would not be that big of a deal. Plus, in my mind, I always made love to a woman as another woman anyhow.

As I write about often, as I transitioned, men for the most part left me alone for any number of reasons. I always felt the primary one was they knew I was transgender and had left the men’s club for good and they did not trust me with their own frail male sexuality. Or maybe I should say, trust themselves. One way or another, I immediately felt as if ciswomen accepted me quicker and I had never had so much female attention in my life. I loved it, as I was able to learn about their world while they were curious about mine. I even went as far as Amy telling me to buy bananas to start practicing what I would do with a man. I never did go that far except for the one big burly, biker of a man I met coming off of his wedding debacle rebound in a regular venue I went to.

I also knew his wife who was a beautiful exotic dancer and I could not figure out the attraction except for looks. It turns out that I was right and the marriage only lasted one week and I felt so sorry for him while at the same time, the people around him were making fun of him. Instead of taking the easy way out this time, I was the only one to lend a sympathetic ear to his problems. In a short while, he began to look for me (and vice versa) when we were at the venue because I was normally alone. Looking back, I wonder what would have happened if I had shown more curiosity about his Harley and would it have led to taking a ride with him. All I know is that I never did and he ended up taking a new job out of town and any possibility of me going any farther with a man sexually with him. From then on, it was back to women.

By women, I meant back to my new inroad into the lesbian culture and community which started when I began to frequent several small lesbian venues in the Dayton, Ohio area. Initially, I was just looking for a friendly place for companionship with other women. Out of the three venues I went to, I discovered they were all different in how I was treated. One of them hated me and did everything they could to keep me out of there, one was neutral and did not seem to care at all, and one was very friendly and welcomed my business. I even learned the bartender I saw several times was a customer in my restaurant with her friend. Her acceptance paved my way for several eye-opening experiences for me in the venue with other lesbians. Before I did, I needed to learn the social levels that other lesbians operated at. Everybody from super butch masculine women to more feminine lipstick lesbians who I more closely identified with. Along the way, I was hit on several times including the time I was forced to sing karaoke with a cowboy hat wearing super butch who wondered why my voice was lower than hers and another night when another butch told me she should take me home with her. Both were eye opening experiences.

What my dealings with the lesbian culture really taught me was that I did not need a man to validate my existence as a woman and there were many lesbians who might walk that fine line sexually to be with a man who was quite different than anyone they had ever known. It was my wife of over a decade now who decided to cross her lesbian leanings and attempt to build a relationship with a transgender woman. After a long courtship, I decided to throw caution to the wind and sell my house and move to Cincinnati to live with Liz. The deciding factor was she had briefly known my old male self and had completely rejected him. Telling me she had never seen any male in me at all.

With that major decision behind me, I was encouraged to proceed with HRT and give all my male belongings to thrift stores and live fulltime with Liz as a transgender woman. It was the biggest seismic change in life I could have ever made. Maybe I was taking the easy way out by never learning if I could live with a man because they were exceedingly hard to find. Ciswomen were not, I was enjoying myself and learning at the same time how I could reach my dream of living as a transfeminine person, so I never looked back. My world settled down, and I learned to live without all the seismic gender changes I went through.

 My path was never easy, but I ended up with a wonderful knowledge of the two basic binary genders.   

Tiny Ripples of Gender Hope

Image from Rosie Kerr on UnSplash.

During the overwhelming sense of darkness I felt when I began to come out of my gender shell, were moments of gender hope and euphoria. More than anything else, they kept me moving slowly towards living my ultimate dream. All I could think of was the possibility of living as a woman later in life.

Having to run and hide my small “collection” of feminine clothes and makeup every time I tried to get in front of the mirror and cross dress did not help. I resented the fact I could not be free to do what I wanted, no matter how radical it was…like being a girl. I could not imagine the pain and suffering I would have if I was caught. What saved me was the vision of a pretty young girl which came peeking on through when I was able to be alone and try on my precious clothes. Even though I was depressed I had to go back to being a boy, the brief moment of femininity carried me through the dark days and gave me a ripple of hope.

Fast forward through the difficult days of puberty and adolescence everyone goes through, I needed to deal with my gender dysphoria also. There were so many dark days when I just went through the motions of life that I did not know what was going to become of me. When I did, I desperately needed to find refuge behind my dresses and makeup to give me hope. Perhaps the only good thing which was happening was that I was slowly perfecting my use of makeup. When all my friends were showing off their painted model cars, I was stuck not being able to show off my new eye makeup. I had to internalize my feelings of hope and euphoria when I saw my new pretty eyes. Sadly, I needed to become good at removing all traces of the makeup so my brother and parents would not notice.

I guess you could say I was in the dark through my college years and beyond until I began to be able to enter the world for the first time as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. These were the days of attending transvestite mixers and small parties in nearby Columbus, Ohio. Being around like minded people who were searching for their gender answers almost made my search seem normal for the first time in my life. I was so protected from the world in the pre-internet days that I thought I was the only one like me stuck in their own personal hell. I was experiencing ripples of hope for the first time in my life on a scale I could appreciate. I even upped my appearance game when I went to Columbus from trashy woman to hopefully a passable ciswoman. One of my favorite outfits to wear was what I called my knit black out. I paired a loose fitting black wide knit top with a black leotard, shorts, tights with a pair of black flats and my red wig and was ready to go. After makeup of course.

For me, the whole outfit helped me to tone down and refine my look and it worked so well that I had my first ever encounter with a lesbian from the party when we left and went to a big lesbian venue for a break. I learned many valuable lessons that night which provided me with ripples of hope for the future. Mainly, if I could not be as feminine or beautiful as the transsexuals who were there, I still could be attractive myself to have a good time and most importantly, learn to be just me. Developing the future, me gave me real hope for the future as I learned it would be possible to achieve my transgender dreams if I worked hard enough. I had to learn the new transfeminine me meant so much more than the ripples of hope I had gained in the past went way past how I looked and into how I acted.

Suddenly, acceptance became my main goal, as my interior feminine self-stepped forward in my life. I knew who I wanted to be but still was not quite sure how to get there. For example, I knew for sure I did not want to be like the “Trans Nazi’s” as we called them or the bitchy trans women who thought they were better than anyone else simply because of their appearance or the number of gender surgeries they had undertaken. I suppose I should owe them a debt of gratitude for showing me what not to do to be a gracious, friendly transgender woman.

All of this came together for me when I began HRT or gender affirming hormones when I was sixty. I had spent enough life in the dark to appreciate the light and grasp a ripple of hope when I saw it. The hormonal medications proved to be a natural success when I began taking them. My body seemed to be saying again what took you so long. But on many levels I don’t think even I understood the basic limits I went through back in those days to salvage my life through the brief ripple of hope I received way back in the days when I lived for the mirror.

More importantly, I found myself in a situation where I could pay forward my experiences to helpfully help others. Especially those of you who are struggling to find answers on how to escape your dark gender closets and find your own ripple of hope. 

The Rise of Transfeminine Privilege

 

JJ Hart (Middle) wife Liz (Left)
daughter (Right)

When I began to seriously leave my closet and mirror and attempt to join the world as my true self, I quickly lost all my male privileges and gained very few feminine ones. In fact, early on, the only privilege I felt was having doors opened for me by the men around me.

On the other hand, the most extensive male privileges I lost were my intelligence and my personal security. When I was around men, I learned to keep my mouth shut until I was spoken to, which was not very often because I think most all men knew I was transgender and wanted no part of me. And as far as personal security went, I needed to learn what ciswomen know from an early age to keep themselves out of possible bodily danger by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

All along, during this time, I was wondering when and if the gender teeter-totter I was on would balance itself out and I would see the positives of what I was doing. It took a combination of things happening before I ever did. One was seasonal around Christmas, and the other one was when I decided to give up on men all-together and concentrate on knowing other women. A preferred topic in my mind, since I did not have to consider changing the focus of my sexuality, which had always leaned exclusively towards women. But I digress, the meaning of Christmas and what it meant to me as a transgender woman, is the real reason for this post.

To begin with, Christmas was always a major holiday for me and my second wife especially. Finding an exceptional, unexpected, rare gift was always the priority for me and even my brother’s family. The difference became to me was when I decided the Christmas shopping, I had been doing as a man would be much better accomplished as a woman. If I was able to pull it off, I could accomplish so much more during the Christmas rush I was in the middle of.

First of all, I needed to up my crossdressing game to give me the best possible chance to succeed in my shopping conquests. I went through my closet and pulled out my fancy, sleek, black pants’ suit for trips to upscale malls and my leggings, boots and sweaters when I combed through the huge local antique malls for just the right gift for my wife. I knew if I was to succeed, I had to be better than the average Ciswoman so I would not be potentially embarrassed. Also, the right makeup and hair was a priority because of all the up close and personal time I would be spending in the public’s eye. Through it all, I wondered where the magical feminine privilege would kick in for me.

The first major time it did was when I was shopping for a matching oak bookcase for my wife’s roll-top desk. One night, I found one which worked beautifully in an oak furniture store in nearby Columbus, Ohio. It just so happened I was returning from a shopping trip to a local Columbus upscale mall when I stopped into the store on the way home. After I found the bookcase I wanted, my old male self-wondered how in the world would I get it in my truck/SUV. Would anyone come to the aid of a tall blond in a black pants suit and heels? After I paid, I found out they would because for the first time in my life I was able to sit back and watch two young men load the bookcase carefully into my vehicle and finished their job off with a nice thank you mam. Because I had finally discovered a dose of feminine privilege, the half hour trip home went quickly, and I wanted to do more shopping, but I was out of time and money.

Sadly, once I returned home and had safely unloaded my prize gift, it was time to return to the place I did not want to be…my old male self. On the plus side though, the whole experience taught me (and provided the confidence) to move forward to my dream life of being a fulltime transgender woman and would not have to return home every night in a hurry to switch back into a gender I wanted nothing to do with. My feminine privilege was being established in the newfound senses I was feeling. Especially when I was doing something for others, such as buying gifts.

The experience made all the learning and trial and error experiences I went through during my male to female femininization process deeply worthwhile. There were other Christmas stories to share as I will do later. Such as when my wife decided we would have a special gift giving time for my feminine self.

 

 

 

 

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.

 

Transgender S.O.S.

Image from Micheal Held
on UnSplash.

What a mistake it is when a “civilian” says transgender women and transgender men have a choice when they decide to live a life they were destined for.

By destined, I mean ultimately, we had no choice but to transition and any attempts to stop it were going to be futile. Those of us who were forced into the male box at birth unfortunately learned the male way to deal with emotions and difficult circumstances, we just internalized them. Hoping they would just go away. I know with me, in my family, internalization was taught from a very young age. It was impossible to relay any sort of gender S.O.S. to anyone who had a remote idea of how to help me. Back in those days, gender dysphoria was treated as a mental disorder and at the least, I knew enough to know I was not mentally ill. I just wanted to be a girl.

What I did then was try to run and hide and attempt to be hyper masculine in everything I did which worked for years. But the damage from doing it was extensive, and my mental health suffered from the pressure of trying to be both binary genders. It became a balancing act which was impossible to put down.

Along the way, with urging from my second wife, I sought therapy to save our marriage. To do so, I found a therapist who advertised as a gender specialist in Columbus, Ohio. She was one of the first and I found her ad in a LGBTQ publication I was reading and decided to give her a try. After several sessions, she told me the truth which I only listened to part of. She said I was Bi-Polar which explained all the severe depression and ups and downs I had been experiencing. It turned out that it was the easy diagnosis she gave me because the second part involved my gender dysphoria. One session, she flat out told me there was nothing she or even me could ever do anything about wanting to be a woman. Somehow, I would have to learn to live with it or act on my desires. Her words shocked me and at that time of my life, I was still searching for my gender truth and was not ready to give up on maintaining all the comfortable male privileges I had worked so hard for.

My answer at the time was to go back to internalizing what she told me because there was no way I was going to tell my wife. Who then would have considered the entire use of therapy to be a waste. Since in many ways, I was just refusing to look at my true self in the mirror, I discontinued therapy and went on with my life. Even though my mirror was telling me I was a man, my mind had other ideas, and I still had no one to send a S.O.S to because on occasion, I felt as if I was sinking fast. I was fortunate that my new anti-depression meds worked well enough to keep my everyday moods stable which left me the gender problems to deal with on their own.

It took me years to finally figure out the gender problems were not going away no matter how much I tried to internalize them. In desperation I tried to start going out in public and attempt to interact with the world as a woman, transgender or not. My S.O.S. to the public was I was not trying to fool anyone into thinking I was a ciswoman, I meant no harm, and I was just trying to be me for once in my life with no internalizing. I can’t say it was always easy and I survived a suicide attempt when I felt I was cheating on my wife (with myself) but I made it through alive.

The best part was when I began to build a new transfeminine life completely away from the man I used to be. Ironically though, my internalization was still there but just reversed. No longer was I trying to hide the reality of my femininity, now I was trying to hide any of my old male self-slipping through and re-ruining my life I was trying to build.

The entire path I was on took me head on to the realization that no matter what the mirror was telling me in the morning, I could work past him and for once face the world as my true, authentic self. I did not have to send out any more S.O.S. pleas that went unanswered or internalized anything. I faced myself and was free to live.

To hell with never having a choice of which gender was right for me, and to hell is where I almost went thinking I was not man enough to be a woman. I had the choice all along no matter what society told me. I was just afraid to do it.

 

  

For Better or for Worse

 

JJ Hart. 

In this case, for better or for worse should not be totally applied to the state of a transgender person’s marriage. Although, it often is.

In this case, I am talking about what happens when we attempt to break out of our dark, lonely gender closets and enter the world. I write long and often concerning the struggles I had when I first tried to come out of my mirror and appear in front of the public as my authentic feminine self. By doing so, I quickly learned I was in over my head as a novice transgender woman or even a cross-dresser. Even worse, I had my second wife telling me I had no idea of what it was like to really be a woman. Even though I was stubborn and did not totally believe her, I set out to discover what she was trying to tell me. The worse part when I tried to find out more about cisgender women was, I was not prepared to go behind the gender curtain to find out what was going on. In reality, I was years away from having the experiences of knowing what my wife was talking about.

At that time, I was still obsessed with how I made my male to female transition appearance wise. All I need to do is go back through all my old blog posts to see how vain I was about how I looked like a cross-dresser and how it dominated my life. As I focused on every little aspect of my appearance. At first, it was all great fun before I began to focus on a higher goal. Something kept telling me I was going to have to do more than just look like a woman to ever satisfy my gender dysphoria which would not leave me alone. As I wiped the makeup off, I sadly knew my male life awaited me again. I so badly wanted off the gender merry-go-round I was on then get on with my life.

It helped a little bit when I finally came to the conclusion, I was more than a weekend cross-dresser and fit the definition of a transgender woman perfectly. All of a sudden, my life had some sort of a meaning it had been lacking. I began gaining access to cisgender woman spaces I had been denied in the past and I was able to see what my wife was talking about. Or I was paying my dues to achieving womanhood on my terms. The better of for worse began to sneak in when I found all the negatives I would have to learn as a transfeminine person. Primarily when my male privileges were taken away and I lost all my personal security I had taken for granted my entire life. And the easy access I had to just going to the rest room as a man. Going as a woman, was such a different experience I could (and have) written complete blog posts about my experiences.

The better part of all of this was, I did not have to put up with the male drama that most ciswomen go through in their lives. I was a prime example of a terrible male partner for my wives to live with. Time and time again, I tried to not be selfish with my desire to be a woman and have it destroyed our entire relationship. The worse of the better or worse was when I became completely jealous that my wives could live as women and I could not. I just could not help myself. Plus, when I came out fully and transitioned I did it in the company of ciswomen who I was used to and did not ever have to adjust to male drama again. I am now married to a ciswoman lesbian who I have been with happily for over a decade now.

I was fortunate when my best transition plans worked out as well as they did. I love it when a plan comes together and even though it was a blind plan, somehow it still came together. It helped when my feminine inner soul was able to take over and run my life. She had been waiting for years, not so patiently wanting her turn to live. She provided the backbone and comfort I needed to move forward in the latter stages of my male to female gender transition.

What I considered a burden, and the worse part of my life, turned into the best part of my life when I was able to experience my impossible dream of living as a transgender woman.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sealing the Final Deal in my Gender Struggle

 

JJ Hart. Key Largo last year.

Sealing the deal on my male to female gender transition was the most difficult decision I have ever had to make in my life.

It is the main reason I kept putting it off until I was nearly sixty years of age and could take the pressure no longer. The only way I kept what sanity I had was to cross-dress my way along until I could take bigger, more substantial steps.  One of the problems was, I had learned that cross dressing was not nearly enough to solve my gender issues and sooner or later, I would have to face the truth of who I really was. Also, I was very naïve and thought I could balance the influence of two genders in my world as I grew older.

As I set out to build a reasonably successful male life, at the same time, I was trying to fill out my feminine workbook with absolutely no help from other women. I was stuck being on my own for years, until I progressed to the point where I could leave my closet and explore the world as a novice. After brief successes (and a lot of failure), I was able to see portions of my future and judge if I could ever seal the deal and live my dream of being a fulltime transgender woman. Even though I was still progressing, I was still hitting roadblocks on my path to trans success and had to keep working my way forward through failure.

All I could see in my future was a life I would have to live alone with no way to support myself as a transfeminine person. My sexuality did not change, and I wanted basically nothing to do sexually with men, and I knew how incredibly difficult it would be to find a ciswoman who would accept me the way I was. I had pulled off some other seemingly impossible things in my life but accomplishing this and sealing the gender deal was too much to hope for.

Then, as I lived my new life as a trans woman, I learned that maybe my dream was not too much to hope for and one thing was for certain, if I did not try, I never would know if I could make it. I expanded my explorations with men and managed to have a couple real live dates when I enjoyed myself but nothing sexual happened, so I set my sights in lesbian bars for a ciswoman who wanted a woman with a little bit extra experience in the world. Amazingly to me, I was moderately successful in one lesbian bar where they accepted me. Which brought me so much closer to thinking I could seal the deal and live my dream.

Now I was to the point where I had to really see where I wanted to take my life. I was an executive general manager of a large casual dining restaurant which I had put in years of hard work to arrive at. If I transitioned, all the work I put into my career would be gone (along with the money) and I would have to start all over again. Behind the world as a transgender woman. Naturally, the whole situation was a major roadblock.

It finally came to the point where I faced sealing the deal like I was jumping off a cliff into nothingness. At that point destiny set in for me and made my final decision so much easier. Tragically, I lost my second wife and almost all of the close friends I had to death and could start with a clean slate in life. Plus, the restaurant I owned was failing and I was losing it also, leaving me a couple of years to work before I could retire early on Social Security which would give me enough income to get by. As You can tell, the doors to transition were opening wide and I would have been a fool not to walk through them.

Most importantly, my mental health was suffering and my self-worth as a man was at an all time low, so it was time to end the torture I was feeling and jump off the cliff and seal the deal. It was during this time too, that the Veterans Administration health care system, which I was already a part of, approved veteran’s care for gender dysphoria with mental health counseling and HRT if approved. I was quickly approved and ended up taking another giant step towards achieving my dream and sealing my lifetime goal.

What did I have to lose? I was leaving a male life I never really felt comfortable in to jump off a gender cliff and land in accepting women’s arms as I joined their world. When I did, I tried to take every little bit of advantage I could from all the learning experiences I put in over the years. Landing on my feet in high heeled shoes was a challenge but I managed to make it in fairly good shape. I came out fully at the age of sixty when I finally decided to seal the deal and never looked back. I could not take balancing two genders any longer and took the easy way out into the world of women where I should always had been.

As always, thanks for reading along, and any comments are welcome! I always do my best to respond.

 

A Trans Girl and her Football

 

Ohio State versus Michigan. 

When I seriously began to think of pursuing my male to female gender transition, I wondered what I would do about all my male baggage in my new feminine life.

Since I was nearly sixty years of age, I had plenty of baggage to consider what I was going to keep and what had to go. By far, my sports baggage was the largest piece of baggage I needed to wonder about was my love of sports. Especially football and baseball.

Ultimately, I found I did not have to worry about anything because ciswomen around me were catching up to me in their love of sports. To make it clearer, as I looked around during the big games I was watching in the sports bars I was hanging out in, I was beginning to notice more and more women in their football jerseys around me. All of a sudden, I did not feel so out of place. I knew some women were into sports, such as my second wife, but not to the level I was.

Also, what helped me was the customer/regular relationships I built with the bartenders I saw on a regular basis. It even got to the point when my beer was always waiting for me when I sat down in front of a big screen television to watch a game.  When all of this was happening, I was deciding I could take my love of sports with me as I transitioned into transgender womanhood. It was just part of my inheritance.

Little did I know, the best was yet to come, and I could bring my sports baggage with me. It turned out, my wife Liz and other ciswomen friends I had made along the way were all as passionate as I was about watching sports. I even was living life large when I was invited to go to a women’s roller derby match one day in Cincinnati by my lesbian friends. It was also a dollar beer night which also added to the fun.

The whole focus of this post is “The Game” is today. Or in other words, the Ohio State/Michigan football game. I make no secret of my love for the Ohio State Buckeyes as Liz is also so we will be tuned into the game. Ironically, the game was one of the main days out of Thanksgiving and Christmas we ever got together. The good news is, I have a better person to watch football with (my wife Liz) who helped me build my life as a transfeminine person, rather than tear it down like my brother did.

No matter how the game goes, I will forever be grateful to all the cis women in my life who encouraged me to be me which included bringing along my love of sports. It probably all came from playing sports (primarily football) which kept the bullies away at the same time. So, it worked well, even though I made it through a couple broken bones. One funny story I have about broken bones was when I broke my collar bone. The doctor who examined me said he would not reset the bone, and I would always have a lump where the break was. Then, the doctor said it would not matter since I would not be wearing a strapless gown in my life. I thought, if he had really known, he would not have said such a thing. Of course, I was worried from then on about that lump on my collar bone and always remember what the doctor said.

Any piece of advice I may have for anyone considering a gender transition of their own, is to look at your baggage closely and then what the ciswomen around you are doing. The world of women is always evolving with the world and is never staying in one place. It happened to me with sports and can happen to you too with some of your questionable baggage. It could be a chance for you to be a leader rather than a follower. If you follow your heart, others will find no problems with you. People are like sharks and have the tendency to circle the wounded ones quickly. Don’t give them the chance to see you bleed.

I know it is impossible to bring all your male baggage with you. Afterall, he had a hand in making you who you are today. Possibly, it all could make you a better person as a trans woman. You already are because of the understanding you have of the two main binary genders and you can build on that success.

Maybe you can be a trans girl with her football too, and GO BUCKEYES!

 

Stopping was Never an Option

 

Image from Josiah Niklas
on UnSplash.

Very early on, during my very confusing crossdressing years, I wondered if I could just stop the madness of wanting to change my gender as I grew older. I did not know at the time that stopping would not be an option.

As I grew older, my desire to be a pretty girl (then a woman) grew with me. The more I cross-dressed in front of the mirror, the better I became at the basics of makeup and whatever fashion I could get my hands on. Plus, the better I became, the more I wanted to do more to improve myself. Increasingly I knew stopping and purging all my feminine clothes was never going to be an option even though I tried and tried. At that point, I tried a clumsy attempt to come out to a couple friends I had but was rudely rejected. I needed to return to internalizing all my feelings of wanting to be a girl if I was to survive in my world. Which was cruel and unusual punishment for me and more importantly, my fragile mental health. I was already stuck in long periods of depression before I was diagnosed as being bi-polar by a therapist I went to as I grew up and away from my parents.

When I did move away to college, I actually lost my desire to cross dress and act like a girl for almost a year. I did not know how to act when stopping all of a sudden became an option.

Of course, before I knew it, my gender dysphoria came creeping back into my life. I then needed to build my wardrobe fashion, undergarments and makeup all from scratch. I vividly remember the trigger object which started it all. My future fiancé for some reason, found a short wig to cover her long straight hair, and tried to surprise me with it. I was not pleased and let her know it. I then set out to get her a wig I liked. Funds were tight as I worked at a small radio station where I went to college, but I managed to scrape together the money to buy a beautiful long blond wig I had seen in the window of a beauty shop in my hometown. Under the guise of buying, it for her, I had really wanted it for myself. As luck would have it, she did not like it, and I was able to “inherit” the wig when we separated years later.

I kept the wig until I joined the Army for my Vietnam War tour of duty and beyond, as I was able to hide it away on the rare occasions, I could use it to “top” off my outfit when I cross-dressed. Even with all the traveling I was doing with “Uncle Sam” I still was able to anchor myself with the belief that stopping my idea of being a woman was not a fairy tale and could still be possible someday.

It wasn’t until I seriously began to explore the public’s perspective of me as a newly minted transgender woman, did the world start to change and I knew nothing that I was trying in my new world was going to change…ever. Even still, ever became a big word for me as I hit a series of roadblocks to become a full-fledged transfeminine person. Just when it seemed I was moving in the right direction, something would come along and temporarily stop me. At that time, through all the roadblocks, I finally realized I could see my dream of living like a woman was certainly not an option and it would be a shame to waste all the time and effort I put into my path.

I also needed to make the final decisions I would need to successfully put my male life behind me. What I would do about supporting myself and coming out to my remaining family became very important decisions. My only child (daughter) made it easy on me because she accepted me totally. While on the other hand I was rejected by my only sibling (brother) and we became estranged. My parents, second wife and most of my friends that mattered had passed away which made my coming out process easier. One way or another, I had decided to go my own way no matter what anyone thought.

If I had realized earlier that stopping my male to female gender transition was never an option, life would have been so much easier for me. I would have been allowed to live the best I could, make all my mistakes earlier and achieve my ultimate dream sooner. Rather than stubbornly hanging on to a male life I was born into but never wanted.

 

 

 

Transgender Dreams

 

Image from Felipe Delgado
on UnSplash

Obviously, we transgender women and transgender men do a lot of dreaming when it comes to the ultimate results of our lives. For example, when I was very young, I could never speak truthfully when an adult asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Saying I wanted to be a woman would have never been acceptable and would have rewarded me with a visit to a psychiatrist. So, I said something more acceptable such as a lawyer or a veterinarian.

I had to save my ultimate desires to be feminine for my dream world and often went to sleep thinking of how it would be if I could wake up as a pretty girl. Of course, I was never able to take advantage of such a thing happening to me and I needed to make the best of what I had to work with. Which was about ready to radically change for the worse when I went through male puberty. As I started my growth spurt, I rapidly outgrew all my mom’s clothes I had tried to squeeze into and had to rely on my meager allowance added to my newspaper route delivery money to try to sneak out to stores and buy my own clothes and makeup.

Through this portion of my life, my mirror was my friend and helped me to bring dreams of being a pretty girl to life, no matter how I really looked. It wasn’t until I began to experience the public’s reaction to me did, I finally get a fair and accurate reaction to how I really looked. I desperately dreamed of being more than a clown in drag. After tons of work and trial and error experiences, I finally made it to where the public at least knew I was being serious about achieving my dream of being a woman. Little did I know, the real work I would need to do to achieve my dream was about to begin.

The more I explored the world as a novice transgender woman, the more I found I had to do to survive in the new exciting feminine world I had dreamed of being a part of. When I was in the public’s eye, I found I attracted the attention of ciswomen as never before and as I did, I needed to get radical and do things such as talk to them. Initially, I was very shy and completely unprepared to take such a big step, but I was way past the point of ever turning back. For the first time in my life, my dream appeared to be within reach, if I kept learning what my new world meant.

I found I was stuck in some sort of a gender never-never land. Ciswomen instinctively knew I was not Cis but on the other hand, wanted to be in their world. Fortunately, I found most of them let me into their worlds and showed me a path to being successful, if they knew it or not. I did not care how I received the help and guidance; I was just trying to achieve my dream of living as a successful transgender woman. As I tried to point out in yesterday’s post, I went past the point of trying to be trans all the way to just being me. Which I think the women around me accepted because of my honesty. By now, you may be thinking what about the men around me? For the most part, they left me alone. Which was fine by me. I wanted out of their club and wanted nothing to do with going back if I had anything to do with it. I was successful and never did. My dream increasingly appeared to be reachable, and destiny opened her doors for more success for me. Primarily when it came for time to consider going down the path of gender affirming hormones or HRT.

I knew first, I needed to find a doctor to approve taking the hormones and I found one in one of the Dayton, Ohio LGBTQ publications. He had openings and I was able to get in for a checkup and then receive my precious prescriptions for initial minimum dosages for estradiol and spiro to get started on a new path towards achieving my dream as never before. After I began the minimum dosages, I had no adverse reactions and in fact the opposite was true. I felt as if I should have been on the meds for my entire life. They made me feel so good.

By this time, I felt as if I was living proof that transgender dreams come true if you pay your dues such as I did. The dues I paid were certainly the best investment I ever made.   

 

Is There a way to Be Transgender

 

JJ Hart in Mystic, Connecticut.

To be fair, I saw this question posed on a couple different sites on the internet and thought I would comment on it. The question is, is there a way to be transgender.

As I thought about it, I initially thought for years that there was a way to be a transgender woman and that would be to copy all the other cisgender women around me. Even though I thought this was the best way to go, in the long run doing it hurt me. Why? Because doing it stopped me from becoming my true authentic feminine self.

Surely, cis women are guilty of forming cliques while men form teams and to be included in a feminine clique, you have to look and act the part…at first. I discovered that once I was accepted by an alpha female, my entrance requirements became easier to come by. But what I did not realize was how perceptive the other ciswomen in the group would be to me and how women can spot a fake a mile away. I would have to proceed with caution if I was going to succeed at the invisible goal of being transgender. To succeed, I did all the usual things such as obsess on my appearance so I could blend in with the other women when I received a cherished invitation to a girl’s night out.

Then, when I arrived at the function and my fear began to subside, I needed to look around and judge all my reactions to the conversations going on around me. Which marked my first real idea that there was not a real way to be transgender. Afterall, when the conversation turned to kids, I still could participate because I had one that of course I did not birth but still participated in the trials and tribulations of raising her. Similar to the other women in the group. It was just a small example of how I survived the evening as I added in my input when I could. It seemed to work because all the other women except for one accepted me and I ended up enjoying myself.

As the years went by, and I began to experience many nights as my transfeminine self, I found there was no way to be transgender but there was a way to be myself. When I did was when I became more and more successful in the world as a trans woman and my ultimate dream of living a full life as such could be realized. Also, during that time, I spent quite a few evenings socializing with a transgender woman friend of mine before she moved away to Dallas. The two of us were prime examples of differing ideas on how we wanted to pursue our lives as trans women. My friend Racquel wanted surgery to look the best she could and attract men, while I found myself comfortably in the company of lesbians who I found for the most part accepted me for who I was.  I did not and have not to this day desired any major gender surgeries. Mainly because I did not need them to help me to realize my way to be transgender.

Of course, as human beings, we are all different and one of the problems we have now is being forced into one small box by a society which does not understand us and for the most part has never met a transgender woman or man, that they know of. Some, like me, are forced into forms of living stealth just to survive. When just using the bathroom becomes a threat to your existence in some parts of the country, something needs to be done, yet we continue to be forced backwards in most parts of my native state of Ohio. It all makes just being transgender so difficult to do.

Enough of the negative, and now on to the positive. Even here in Ohio, the LGBTQ winds of change are blowing with several more communities proclaiming they are safe zones for us. And, with the strong showing so far for the Democrats in the country, real change could be on the horizon for change as we need it.

If and when change does happen, it will make it easier to live your gender dreams and realize one thing. In the end you are much more than just another transgender woman or trans man. You are you, and that is the most important fact to realize if you are to be successful in your world.

There is no way to be transgender but there is a way to be you. 

Gender Professionals

 

Image from Alysha Rosly
on UnSplash.

On occasion, I can just sit back and observe other women. Through my observations, it has occurred to me that some ciswomen are better at being women than others. For example, they walk straighter with their shoulders back and are proud of their femininity.

It has also been my theory that all females do not have the right to claim their femininity or the right to be called women just because they were born that way. Transgender women in particular know that becoming a woman can take many paths and we have can claim our own womanhood when our gender workbook is filled out.

Does it make us gender professionals? No, not in its own right but it does give us a leg to stand on when we are out in the public eye just trying to live our lives. It could be argued that transgender women and trans men must be better than our gender counterparts to get by and stand a chance of becoming gender professionals.

The question could be also, what does being gender professional really mean. I am only one gender conflicted person of course but for me to understand what a gender pro really meant, I needed to go into the world and live it. First, I tried to go to gay venues to see if possibly I was attracted to other men, or would they be attracted to me as a transgender woman. They were not attracted to me in any way and considered me no more than another drag queen on their turf. Which I wanted nothing to do with. Next, I tried the few lesbian venues I could find in the Dayton, Ohio area. There were three, and I found I was hated in one, had a neutral reception in another and was warmly accepted in a third. From the experience I mainly learned the different levels within the lesbian community and was it possible to work my way in at all.

The third and final venues I ended up at were the big sports bars I frequented as a man. In them, I was surprised to learn how quickly I could establish myself as a regular if I did not cause any trouble, learned to smile and then tip well. I learned too, to try to carry myself as a gender professional. Leaving no question of who I really was. I had to learn also carrying myself as a gender professional was completely different from being a gender professional. It meant I could carry myself well if I was wearing a fancy sweater and slacks, or my favorite team’s football jersey with a pair of jeans and boots. I discovered, more than anything else, I needed the confidence to do it and the rest of the world be damned if they did not like me. I was just having fun in the world as my self and taking advantage of all the fashion perks of being a woman.

Even with all the learning I was doing at the time, I still made learning from the ciswomen around me a priority. I figured they held the secrets that I needed to complete myself as a professional woman. The times to talk and communicate and the times to keep quiet and shut up and learn come to mind. You might say, I was exploring all the nuances of being a woman and trying to improve myself at the same time. I was fortunate in that almost all of my friends came from the lesbian community, so I came up with a unique view of the world. Especially around men which I learned did not validate my womanhood.

As you can tell, pursuing my quest to be a gender professional overtook much of my thinking. There was so much happening when I met my wife Liz, and I started to accompany her to her meetings she went to for various reasons. What happened was I had no choice but to expand my horizons again and meet a whole new set of people. When I did, I fell back to all the lessons I had learned about communicating with strangers. Not as a transgender woman but as just me.

Most Importantly, I had built back a portion of the self esteem I had lost as a gender professional growing up. I lost the inferiority complex I had put myself through during the rocky days of coming out earlier in life. Believing in myself for the first time as a transgender woman was all it took to get me by and enable me to become a true gender professional.