The Power of Allies

 

Image from Peyton Sickles
on UnSplash. 

I don’t know if I could have ever made it to my dream of living as a full-time transgender woman, without the help of strong allies.

There were many times when I had hit a stopping point on my gender path and was clueless on which way to go. Mainly because I was attempting to find myself as a woman so I could continue to live after a failed suicide attempt.

I have several examples. The first of which came when I first started to go out and secretly wanted to find a social life as a trans woman because I was so lonely after my wife of twenty-five years unexpectedly passed away from a massive heart attack at the age of fifty. In the past I had considered myself a social person, and it hurt deeply to be lonely. At first, I went online and tried the usual methods of establishing a contact or two to date but I ran into the usual problems of inviting all sorts of trash into my life, which included many no shows when I had arranged to meet someone in public. Which was the only way I would do it for personal safety reasons.

In the meantime, I was fortunate to escape the gay venues I was going to (where they thought I was just another drag queen) and establish myself in a couple of the big sports bars I used to go to when I was a man. Places where I could drink pints of beer and watch sports on big screen televisions. Ironically, being alone in one of these venues led me directly to my first two powerful allies.

The first happened to be the mother of one of the bartenders who set up a casual date between us one night where she worked. It turned out we got along really well, shared the same interests and set up future dates, so my end to the extreme loneliness I was feeling was looking like it might me coming to an end. I was further encouraged not long after that when one night a woman came in to pick up her to go food order and suddenly slid her phone number down the bar to me, to my amazement. Not long after that, I kept the number and had the courage to call it.

From that point forward, the three of us made an inseparable trio as we watched sports and drank beer in the venues we met in. Plus, as it turned out, the two women turned out to be lesbians which put a unique perspective to my life as I was regularly attending lesbian mixers and learning any thing I could about the culture which was so new to me. As we socialized together, I was learning as much as I could about being a woman. The first major lesson I learned was that I did not need validation from a man to be a woman which was a relief because of two reasons. The first being that I had very little interactions with men at all primarily I think because I was not attractive enough. The second of which was I really did not want to deal with all the drama I knew men can bring from all the time I spent as a man. I knew how to deal with ciswomen all my life and felt more comfortable with the drama women bring. I always had more women friends than close male friends.

The two most profound allies were yet to enter my life at that point.

As part of my online searches, I did have one response from a Wiccan/lesbian woman in nearby Cincinnati, Ohio. She told me I had sad eyes from my online picture, and we slowly began to correspond by text messages before I felt comfortable enough to talk to her in person. Finally, I got over my shyness and after talking to each other I decided to ask her out on a date. She accepted, and we decided to meet halfway between our homes with friends and go to a drag show at a well-known gay bar. We ended up having a great time and decided to set up another date. This time with my other friends at a women’s roller derby event. I was in gender heaven to be able to go with three other women to one place and enjoy myself for once. My help from allies was coming through for me.

At the same time, I needed to come out to what was left of my blood family. My parents and most of the rest of the family had passed away, leaving only my daughter (only child) and my only brother to come out too. I thought at the time I would have problems with my brother and hopefully not my daughter and I was right. My daughter’s only real reaction was why she was the last to know and my brother totally rejected me by not inviting me to the annual Thanksgiving Day dinner. He sold me out to his rightwing religious in-laws, and I have not spoken to him since which has been over a decade now. I was fortunate when my allies (daughter) and Liz stepped up to help me in my time of need. Not only was I invited to one Thanksgiving family dinner, but I was also invited to two. Even though I was happy to have someplace to go for the holidays, it was quite stressful for me to meet people at my daughter’s in-laws who had known me for years as a man but also meet Liz’s dad and brother for the first time.

The best part of having all of these strong allies on my side was they expected me to be myself. In fact, I was still on the fence of living as both binary genders as I met Liz. It was not too far into our long relationship that she told me the final words to kickstart my final plunge to a feminine life. One day Liz told me what I was waiting for, she had seen both sides of me and had only seen the female side, nothing of the old unwanted masculine me. That was it, I agreed and went about giving away what was left of my male wardrobe and never looked back as I started HRT or gender affirming hormones to further femininize my exterior self.

Along the way, I tried to explain to all my ciswomen allies how much they had done for me, but they would not take any credit. They never understood how much they did to help me become the happy transgender woman I am today. And, by the way, Liz and I finally got married after eight years and now have been together for over a decade.

 

 

Living in the Real World

 

Image from Jacqueline Mungala
on UnSplash.

Living in the real world became a challenge to me as I transitioned from a male existence to a feminine world. The main problem I had was figuring out what was right and what was wrong as I followed my path through many blind curves and stop signs.

One thing I never thought of completely was how different my life would be if I had ever had the chance to live as a fulltime transgender woman. Sure, I was not totally naïve and thought my world would basically involve pretty clothes and being chased by boys. When I finally was allowed behind the gender curtain, I discovered how complex and layered lives ciswomen really live. Very quickly, trying to live in the real world as a novice struggling trans woman got me in over my head. I would be remiss if I did not bring up how I tried to present myself. I thought trying to look like a sexy teen girl was the way to go, and fortunately my time in that cross-dressing phase of my life went away quickly. Often with brutal consequences of being laughed out of any venue I was trying to visit.

In other words, I put what my male self was telling me about presenting as a woman in the real world behind me and started to look around to what I needed to do to blend in with the other ciswomen around me. The challenge was not only did I have to be as good as the next woman, I needed to be better to survive in the real world I found myself in. With success, I brought confidence I could do more.

The next problem I faced was what was I going to do about my deteriorating (already fragile) mental health. As luck would have it, I was assigned a qualified therapist within the Veterans Administration who knew what she was doing and was able to separate my Bi-polar disorder from my gender dysphoria issues. She provided me with permission to begin HRT which is something I had always wanted and made the real world more livable for a transfeminine person like me.

At the same time, I was trying to take every spare moment away from work to explore different venues as a trans woman. I was attempting to accomplish trying out (as much as possible) everything I would have to go through if I ever followed my dream into womanhood. What was a ciswoman’s life really like and how was it different than what I had already lived as a man. I was entering the scariest yet most exciting time of my life as for the most part I was successful when I went out. The biggest issue which eluded me, was being able to communicate effectively with the world of women I encountered. Learning all the nuances of non-verbal communication women use was the biggest challenge for me. For the first time in my life, I needed to really listen to what was being said to me and watch the other woman’s eyes at the same time to see if I could catch a clue of what she really meant.

Through this portion of my life, I had a powerful motivation to succeed as a woman in the real world. My second wife of twenty-five years had unexpectedly passed away to leave me completely alone with my gender issues. I had no spouse to worry about how to tell my truth about wanting to be a woman. Yet another terrifying yet exciting time of my life. What was I going to do about my newfound freedom. Since you are reading this post, you know what I decided to do. I started making plans to finally make the leap off the gender cliff I had thought of for some time and throw caution to the wind for the remainder of my life. I figured why not because my confidence was at an all-time high with my small circle of friends I had built up. Along with factoring in all the time and effort I put in exploring the real-world ciswomen live in because for once, I had earned my way (or forced my way) behind the so called “sacred” gender curtain.

Once I had made it to this point, after another stop sign on my transgender path, I found I still had more learning to do to really be ready to live in the real world. That is where my ciswomen (lesbian) friends came in which is a subject of another blog post. I will say, they taught me how to be validated as myself in the real world. It was another main transition to go from thinking I was a transgender woman to knowing I was just me. Which took me from cross-dresser to trans woman, back to a secure me during my lifetime. A long, often brutal journey which had a happy ending. I learned the person I had been running from much of my life was not such a bad person after all.

Maybe, most importantly, I discovered the one aspect of my life I never thought I could experience and that was having the ability to be happy. I never had a chance to learn it from my family, and I spent so much time trying to deny myself any satisfaction I could have had from a successful career as a man, there was no time to ever be happy. It turned out that when I turned the corner back to just being the true me, I allowed happiness to be part of my existence.

I had survived all the lessons I had learned as I followed my path to a brighter, more authentic gender future. Living in the real world was not such a bad thing after all. My only regret is that it took me so long (all the way till sixty) to have the courage to face my truth so I could live as I truly was.

 

 

 

In the Snake Pit

 

Image from Jeff Turnale
on UnSplash.

Before I made my male to female transition, I always assumed men were the fiercer competitors, mainly because of work and sports.

Once I made it behind the gender curtain to play fulltime in the girl’s sandbox, I found that my idea of gender competition was not true at all Ciswomen compete every bit as hard as men just in different ways and about different things. A well-worn example could be that women compete in the visibility arena all the time, and that may be true to an extent as ciswomen lay down certain fashion perimeters women have to live by to not cause undue attention. Such as wearing skirts and dresses too short or having non-age-appropriate hair (which I have) for my advanced age. At my age, I have decided to keep my hair the way it is because number one, I like it, and number two, I don’t really care what other ciswomen think of me.

Over the years, I have discovered that ciswomen compete as much as men for the chance to be attractive and attract male attention. In fact, I have a couple of examples where I was caught on the wrong side of female wrath. One of which occurred one night when my wife Liz and I were out in a LGBTQ friendly venue in downtown Cincinnati. During our visit, I needed to use the women’s room which happened to be downstairs in the ancient building the venue was located in. When I made it to the room, I found it to be a crowded two stall affair with several other women already there. As I went in one woman in particular glared at me as I made my way to the only open stall which was left. I excused myself as I went around her and took care of business, feeling better about myself.

As I came out of the stall and headed for the sink to wash up, I needed to almost move the woman who glared at me. She took her time moving and I noticed she ended up slouching below the electric hand blower/dryer on the wall, and I saw my chance for revenge. After washing up and checking my makeup and hair, I took my time moving to the hand dryer and casually turned it on which ruined the woman’s hair completely. After my payback, I gave her a little smile and left to tell Liz what had happened.

The next example I have of an irate ciswoman, took me totally by surprise in a venue in Dayton, Ohio where I was a regular. That night, my friends were not with me, so I was by myself when a couple sat down beside me. Before long, the woman started up a conversation the usual way, complementing me on something I was wearing. We struck up a little conversation about life without much input from the man she was with. I could not tell if they were married or not. Anyway, before long she excused herself to go to the woman’s room leaving just the man and I together and he started a conversation with me by the time she returned. For some reason, she must have been extremely jealous and thought I was competing for her man because the smile went away and the claws came out. To make a long story short both the man and I had claw marks up and down our backs before they quickly finished their drinks and left. I learned the hard way to make sure I never got between a ciswoman and her man.

The most profound level women compete on is with their passive aggressive behavior. They can be competing just as hard as men, just with a smile on their face. It is a learned attitude most ciswomen learn from their youth because of not being able to physically compete with men. Although I think some of that attitude is changing in some cultures where I see many girls fighting among themselves these days. But for the purpose of most all transgender women, our view of the feminine world does not change as we do when we go from aggressive male worlds to passive aggressive female worlds.

Outside of confronting two women in a rest stop woman’s room a couple years ago in Alabama, I don’t think I have ever found myself in a feminine snake pit ever. The two women I encountered were studying me way too closely and talking aggressively between themselves after they saw me, so I washed up and quickly headed for the exit before I had any other problems.

My best advice is to look ahead at your surroundings to not get caught in a feminine snake pit. My worst-case scenario happened when I had to go one on one with a woman in a bathroom in a venue where I had never been questioned before. She was screaming at me that I was a pervert. When I finally could get a word in, I asked her by chance what she did for a living and I saw my chance for revenge creep in. She said she was a hairdresser, so I asked her for a card so I could report her to the very powerful local LGBTQ establishment in Dayton. With that she stormed out and left me alone.

Even though being in the snake pit with other women was no fun, I looked at the entire experience as a rite of passage into the girl’s sandbox. If I could not survive the pit, how could I ever survive my chance to play behind the gender curtain. All my years as a man had taught me to beware of where the frontal attacks were coming from, and if I was ever going to make it as a transgender woman, I had to expect not everyone would accept me and be ready for it. I just never realized how close together the snake pit and the sandbox were going to be.

 

 

 

Nothing Easy but the Hard Times

 

Image from Anthony Tran
on UnSplash.

Finishing up yesterday’s post about having a medical appointment with one of my medicine providers Regina, my worst fears materialized. After years and years of seeing Regina, she is retiring and I am being shuttled to another provider at the Veterans’ Administration here in Cincinnati, Ohio. Now I have only one more time to see her before a significant part of my life begins to shift.

I think my shift will continue when I see my endocrinologist on May 7^th. She is the only remaining tie to my old providers in Dayton, Ohio VA where I used to live and this visit is ultra important because I will have to ask to have my Estradiol patches prescription renewed. As I said yesterday, I am thinking about changing from the hormonal patches to self-injections which is not a big problem with me, but will it be with the “new” VA I am beginning to experience. If I am told I must get a new endo doc in Cincinnati, what will I have to go through to get my HRT, or will I have problems, is my paranoia. Time flies when you are worrying and before I know it, the time for the appointment will be here. I guess I was born to worry, and nothing is easy but the hard times.

I guess worrying fits right in with being transgender. Early in life, all I did was worry about getting caught when I cross-dressed in front of the mirror. I had plenty of hard times as I worried about my slightly younger brother discovering my feminine secret and telling my parents who would have promptly sent me off to a psychiatrist who knew absolutely nothing about gender dysphoria back in the late 1950’s or early 1960’s. At that time, I was mistaken that several of my main worries would take care of themselves as I became older. One of course was me wanting to be a woman, and the second one was what was I going to do about the military and the Vietnam War. To make matters worse, I was worried about them on several different levels. One of which being I could just relax and both the war and my urge to be feminine would just disappear.

Needless to say, both of them never went away. The war went on and on for years, and my desire to be a woman just intensified as I had more public experience when I gathered the courage to leave the mirror and go out into the world. Which I was starting to do before I entered the military, which in many ways just made matters worse. Certainly, I felt nothing was easy but the hard times as I tried alcohol for the first time to dull my pain. It was the beginning of a long one-sided love affair with alcohol I had which fortunately I won before it was too late. I took me much longer to realize my desire to be a full-time transgender woman was not ever going to go away and I would have to do something about the hard times I was experiencing by acting.

Acting meant I would have to put my male side behind me for good and plan for a radically different feminine future. That is when I truly found nothing ever would be easy in life but the hard times. So, for the first time in my life, if I ever wanted to achieve my dream, the path was clearly there to do it. Like a runway for jumbo jets lit up at night. All I had to do was learn how to land the jet.

At that point, I was rather confident that I could do it. Afterall, I had spent all those years cross-dressing and perfecting my feminine presentation, so what could go wrong. It turned out plenty. As I was completely lacking in rounding myself out as a transgender woman capable of holding her own in a world full of competitive ciswomen. I discovered I was completely not ready to communicate in a world where I needed to be better than the next woman to be accepted at all. Just presenting better as a trans woman was just the beginning I found, and I started to worry all over again.

This time, all my worries turned to action as my new life became a blur as I started to carve out a new, more complete path to my transfeminine dream. I could not believe it was me becoming a regular in venues I used to go to as a man and had wondered how it would be to visit them as a woman. I used to blame my second wife for holding me back, but learned it was all my fault, and I was just being a victim.

I think being transgender automatically brings a lot of worry with it. We are subject to violence, job and medical discrimination among many other negatives. When you add all of those to already problematic everyday lives, that everyone has, it is no wonder transgender suicide rates are so high. Which proves my point that nothing is easy but the hard times when you are trans. Reality comes when the attraction to all the pretty clothes begins to fade and the daily life of a woman sets in. A woman’s life is a many layered existence and one you have to accept when you transition.

By accepting the challenge, you made yourself, you have decided to set out and build your new life from scratch. There will be many times when you think you have bit more than you can choose, but after you have been successful, you can feel the pride and for once knowing that the hard times were ever easy but somehow you made it through to living your dream of living and thriving in a feminine world. You should be proud of your accomplishment.

 

 

 

Buckle Up for the Ride

Image from Inis Piazzi on
UnSplash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

No Matter Where you Go...There you Are

 

JJ Hart, Cincinnati Pride, 
Three years ago.

I always thought no matter where you go, there you are was meant to be a humorous statement, until I lived it during searching for my transgender roots.

Often, I have written about the time and effort I put into moving myself and my family as I switched jobs flutily trying to find my dream of having a feminine future. Sadly, it seemed, after a short time, I was back to where I started. Spinning my tires and getting nowhere. That person I was looking at in the mirror just would not change. When that happened, I would start taking bigger and bigger chances with my future probably hoping someone else would discover my deep dark gender secret. No one except my second wife ever did to any extent, so I was forced again to face my gender dysphoria on my own.

The problem was I was not ready to face my truth as one therapist told me that I was the only one who could make the final call on my gender needs. Would I be a man or a woman was a dauting idea for me, and for the longest time, ran from my decision.

What I tried to do was research how it would be to be a woman in the world I was in. Again, hoping I would receive a magical answer on which way I should go. As close as I came was the days which I was able to pass as a presentable ciswoman. I started doing things such as specific duties such as going to the grocery store, for example, where I was able to literally melt a teen grocery bagger in my big fluffy sweater and mini skirt which was the fashion of the day. It was eye opening because it was the first time I had ever had that sort of a reaction from a male at all. Ironically, all it did was make me feel good about my feminine self for a short time as I prepared to enter the world. No matter where I went, there I was.

Where I was, was a spot where I needed to face reality. Was I going to listen to my wife and never go out explore the world as a woman or stay at home and pass the time drinking and dreaming of the next time, I had the courage to go out. Every time the call to go out came up I had to answer to save what was left of my mental health, and I hit the road doing slutty things such as flashing semi-trucks in my miniskirts. Somehow, I was under the mistaken impression it all gave me validation as a woman. It did not and I outgrew the temptation quickly and went back to doing weekly chores such as trips to the grocery stores.

It wasn’t until much later in my life when I started to truly understand where I should be in the world. I left the gay venues I was frequenting and started exclusively going to the lesbian and straight bars all together to see if I could make it in a world that I enjoyed. In those cases where I went, there I was and I liked it. The world was a blur of excitement and trepidation as I tried more and more venues to see if I would be accepted, and I found in some I was.

Before I knew it, and had the where with all to acknowledge it, I was moving from the transgender woman image I had of myself. I was slowly becoming the best version of me, and one I had dreamed of my entire life. Being just me meant that for once, no matter where I went, there you are meant something basic to me. Getting there was never easy and I took a lot of chances, but I made it through many storms and high winds to make it. Looking back, I don’t know how I did.

Being just me brought me deep satisfaction and allowed me to allow myself to let my feminine side rule my world. There was nothing I could do about always being a transfeminine person, but being a quality version of me was going to be a work in progress as I meshed all my virtues together. The problem then became recognizing exactly what my virtues were and what I could take from living on both sides of the main gender binaries, male and female. I needed to look at the process as a blessing that few humans get to go through rather than a curse that most haters and bigots said it was.

When I took my life firmly in control and was able to surround myself with strong allies, finding out where I was stepped out of the mist and into the sunlight. In the bright light, I found I could be a nice quality person that people responded to as me, not because I was transgender.

At that point, no matter where you go, there you are became very real to me because I had landed squarely where I wanted to be. Sure, I took a long winding path to get here, but now I am finally proud to say I am just me. Certainly, I would not recommend all the running and drinking I did to anyone else but hopefully you can find your own path which brings you to the stage of just being you. And sometimes, all the things we do to survive our gender issues make for a more interesting life than most people have. At least it worked for me as I made my way through the no matter where you go, there you are phase of my life. Which turned out to be most of it. Hopefully you don’t have to take fifty years like I did to have the courage to do what is right for you.

 

Gender Euphoria is Real

 

Image from Simona Todarova
on UnSplash. 

Looking back at yesterday’s interaction with the woman who referred to me as “she” when talking to her husband, I knew that gender euphoria was real.

When I talked to her, I was rewarded with being the total feminine package with no doubts including impostor syndrome to ruin the experience. In the past, I would have waited for something to come up to tip off I was transgender. Yesterday, as I said, nothing like that ever entered the conversation. Maybe it was because I got the ball rolling when I sat down beside her in the waiting room. Smiled and said hello. It is difficult for me to do with strangers because I am so shy. I guess finally I am getting the confidence to step out of my shell and do better socially. It helped too, because it turned out we had the same last name and originally came from the same hometown which helped us find something to talk about to pass the time.

All in all, it made for a very pleasant waiting experience as almost all of the people sit and glare at each other. It also made up for the essentially genderless experience I had at the coffee shop when the interaction did not seem to go either way with the young girl who was waiting on me. I was friendly and she was friendly and we both went on our way. If I had my choice, I would have preferred that the barista in the coffee shop would have referred to me as “she” also, but at least she did not use the dreaded “he” pronoun when referring to me. Or even worse, “sir.”  Which would have ruined my morning for sure.

The nice thing about gender euphoria is that it lasts for a long time, and I feel all the work I put into being a transgender woman was worth it. It seemed, despite my best efforts, someone in public would break my feminine façade and call me by a male pronoun. Which brings up the worst thing about euphoria which is so fragile and can be broken in a moment. Then it takes weeks to build up again.

It took me years to realize the power of confidence in my transfeminine life. Sometimes, I felt as if I could rule the room in my high heels, and other times, I just wanted to be left alone and disappear. Probably the same as any other ciswoman felt. In fact, I could see it in the women I studied. Some walked into a room with all the confidence in the world, while others seemed to be so timid. Of course, I did my best to copy the assertive women who I secretly envied because their gender euphoria was so real.

For the longest time, before my ankles gave up, all I wore was high heels because I thought the shoes gave the woman a sense of power with women and men. I knew men were conditioned to look when they heard the click -click of heels coming towards them on a hard floor. Women, on the other hand were forced to respect the woman wearing the highest heels if they liked it or not. Euphoria or envy runs deep with ciswomen it seems. Sometimes it provides a major point of competition between women if they are competing for men, or just appearance.

I am spoiled to have two powerful gender allies around me almost all of the time. My wife Liz and daughter are always quick to provide the correct pronouns for me when a stranger struggles. That way, when the stranger struggles to find the correct pronouns, they always have a reminder, and I leave with my gender euphoria intact.

One way or another, gender euphoria is as real and powerful as dysphoria and often provides transgender women and trans men with a brief flicker of hope when our closet needs a light to keep going in a world which is increasingly hostile to us.

Hopefully, that is you and even if you experience negativity in the world while you are on your gender path. That light ahead is a green light and you can keep going. Always remember, a transgender journey if a marathon, not a race. You don’t always know what is around the next corner but gender euphoria can help you get there.

 

 

 

Just Stay Out of My Lane

 

Image from Navid Solrabi
on UnSplash.

One of the many delights I encountered when I set out on my male to female femininization project was the amount of attention I was receiving from the ciswomen around me.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, I received very little attention from men, probably because I was not attractive enough. Even still, there were the occasional experiences when I let men into my lane out of pure curiosity. I wondered how it would be to be treated as a woman by a man on a date.

Curiously, my first date to dinner was from a lesbian who went on to transition into and live as a trans man. Later on when we talked, he always chided me about how scared I was that night. I never told him, but one of the reasons was I felt he could physically overpower me if he wanted to. One way or another, the evening was so different that I never forgot it.

Other men I ended upgoing out with in my exploration days mostly ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time to ever get serious. Take for example the big, bearded man who I grew close to after his ill-fated wedding to another exotic woman I knew. While others in the group we were a part of either shunned or made fun of him, I was the opposite, an understanding shoulder to talk to. It was so new and different to me and it felt so natural and good that I could react to a man that way. Before I knew it, he transferred out of town on his job, and I never saw him again.

The only other man of note that I enjoyed my self with was Bob, who I was able to go out with only one time because again I was in the wrong place at the wrong time to seriously get involved. Since he lived far away and was just traveling through where I lived in Ohio, we were able to set up a date in a regular sports bar I went to near Dayton, Ohio. Long story short, I let him in my lane and for the first time in my life felt like a woman on a date she enjoyed. We talked, laughed and he even sang karaoke to me. All too soon the magical night was over, and we went our separate ways after a long passionate kiss, never to meet in person again.

For some reason, I continued to be drawn to ciswomen, and them to me. I primarily think it was because most women were curious about me. What was I doing in their world and how different was I. Since women are fortunate to not have the sexuality hang ups men have, I found all but the most hard-core lesbian haters were intrigued by me. I think too, the honesty I portrayed in my life helped my appeal with the women I met who had encounters with men in their lives such as having kids. What worked for me was, I did not have to consider changing my sexuality around and I was used to the specific gender drama I would be facing with women, not men. Who of course I understood too but they did not want anything to do with me, so why bother. I was much more than a fetish object.

I was also having the time of my life as I escaped the extreme loneliness I was feeling after my wife passed away by going to lesbian mixers with my friends. I found that often I was the one doing the mixing as sometimes I was the one out of three of us who was hit on. I was in the lane I wanted to be in for sure. Plus, in many ways, I am still in that lane, as I formed a long-term relationship with one of the lesbians I met and we are still happily married to this day.

From my wife, I have been able to fill in many of the blanks I had in my gender workbook growing up as an unwilling boy. I learned not everything was pleasant as a young girl when I learned the reality of what went on in life with parents and friends. Not being allowed behind the gender curtain when I was young really took a toll on me. It took me years to catch up to what all cis women already knew, and they always made gentle fun of me and said welcome to our world. What they did not know was how badly I wanted to be in their lane.

Now that I have been in their lane for years, I have grown quite comfortable and confident in my surroundings. In fact, I feel as if I have spent my entire life here and most of my male life was a bad dream that I needed to live through to arrive at where I am today. And even though I struggled through much of my male existence, he still taught me how to be strong when I needed it. To maintain the strength to keep my lane the way I wanted it in a transfeminine world.

Even though I had many close calls and bumps and bruises along the way, my interactions with women and men let me choose the lane I wanted to be in. I consider myself to be fortunate in that I survived one of the most difficult transitions a human can undertake. Changing one’s gender is a basic human need and is never easy to change. Before you know it, you can find yourself in a bumper car-like zone and need to get out. I was especially successful when I finally chose my lane and stayed there. No more switching back and forth which was hard on my already fragile mental health. Plus, I felt good when I had the confidence to keep others out of my lane so I could experience it on my terms with no more blind curves and huge hills to climb.

 

Everything was OK Until it Wasn't

 

JJ Hart. Frozen in Florida

So many times, when I was caught between my genders, I learned everything was Ok, until it wasn’t.

A prime example would be when I was coming home from a night in the gay venues I was frequenting and my car decided not to start when I was twenty miles away from home. Then I needed to figure out how to get the car home before my wife came home and took off all my make-up acting like nothing had happened. What I did was call a towing company and get the car towed back home as I sat in the cab with the driver, trying my best to present as a blond woman just trying to get her car home. Somehow, I did make it that night and learned to never take that car again when I went out on such a pressure packed adventure.

Sadly, I needed to learn the hard way as I followed my gender path through many blind curves and major potholes. I would usually start out with a final look in the mirror thinking I made an attractive woman from the testosterone poisoned male I had to work from. Confidently, I moved ahead to whichever venues I decided to go to that night. And the stakes were raised significantly when I decided to leave the relative safety of the gay venues behind and attempt to see how I could do in the straight world of big sports bars. It turned out, if everything was going to be OK, I would find out quickly.

Normally I found everything was going to be OK, except on the nights I encountered problems using the women’s restroom and I ended up having the police called on me. That turned out to be more embarrassing than anything else because the cops had better things to do as I was just sent on my way. A more embarrassing night came along much later when a group of drunk guys decided it would be fun to play “Dude Looks Like a Lady” about five times in a row on the juke box. Which ended me getting asked to leave by the manager, even though I was a regular. Well, liked by the staff, who actually tracked me down at a close venue not long after and asked to come back. Telling me, the manager who told me to leave got fired. I was flattered and accepted my welcome back because everything I thought was OK, actually was.

Other times, I was not as fortunate as I began to learn the basics of being allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox. Learning the time-honored tradition of passive aggressive behavior which ciswomen practice so well, proved to be a challenge. I was used to taking another man at face value most of the time until he proved himself unworthy which did work with women. I learned a smile could be hiding something much more sinister. Resulting in claw marks down my back. Once I did, again everything really did turn out to be OK and stayed that way for the most part.

In no way, do I want anyone to think this gender male to female feminization project was a quick one. There were so many nights when I hurried home to return to my old unwanted male self that I wondered what I was doing. I was risking so much on what often seemed to be an empty dream of someday being able to live as a fulltime transgender woman. What kept me going was the deep feeling I had that when I was my feminine self, I felt so natural and I felt as if I somehow was home. And someday, all the setbacks I had would just disappear and everything would truly be OK.

Through the magic of gender affirming hormones (HRT), and strong ciswomen role models, I was able to weather the transition storm I was going through. I knew everything was going to really be OK when I found I could validate myself in the world as a trans woman without the validation of a man, or anyone else. The whole process was so much more complex rather than just looking like a woman. I needed to be my own woman, on my own terms so I could exist on the path I had always been on. Even though sometimes I did not realize it myself. Those were the days of feeling like a failure when a group of teenagers laughed at me for how I looked. Rather than staying and trying to do better, I had to run home crying and go back to my cross-dressing drawing board. Seeking the idea that everything was going to be OK, even though it was not at the time.

As I said, what kept me going was a small spark of feminine energy deep down inside me. Knowing for sure, being the woman I dreamed of being was going to be an incredibly complex gender journey to make. Just lacking the communication skills, I needed to survive in the world as I went one on one with other women made my life a scary one. Since I was shy to begin with, I needed to start from scratch in a new world and work hard to gain an equal footing as a novice trans woman trying to make it alone in the world until I was able to make new friends.

The new friends I made helped me to cushion when I got into situations when everything was OK until it wasn’t. During those times, I could fall back into the group and learn from what was going on. Every learning experience became so important because I could make sure to never try that again. Even what was left of my stubborn male self-learned the misconceptions he had about how women truly lived and did he really want to let go of his life for good.

When he did, I found that everything was going to be OK and it always was.

I Needed Help

 

Image from Kelly Sikkema on UnSplash.

Starting at the very beginning of my long gender journey, it seemed I needed help at every turn.

For the longest time, I thought any ciswoman could help me improve my major concern of just looking as feminine as I could. When it finally happened to me in my college days, I was so practiced in the art of makeup, I thought I could still do a better job than the woman who was working on me. I was truly disappointed and all I ended up doing was out myself as a transvestite (or cross-dresser) to someone who would hold it against me later in life. Lesson learned and it took me years to trust anyone at all with my secret. Ironically, my secret carried over all the way to the transgender-crossdresser mixer where I had the courage to take off my wig and makeup and experience the makeup magic of a professional artist. “He” was able to work wonders with my appearance and even explain what he was doing. More than any ciswoman had ever been able to do for me. So it wasn’t a woman at all who helped me initially, it was a man.

As the years flew by though, the next help I tried was therapy. I needed it to help save my long-term marriage to my second wife who was always against me leaving the house as a transfeminine person. Several times, when she caught me, I volunteered to go therapy to hopefully solve my “problem”. It turns out, therapy ran the gamut for me from very good to very bad. But overall, the good was very good and outdid the very bad, where the therapist did not know anything about gender issues or even care to learn by listening to me. I even went to the extent of driving a long distance to one of the only practicing gender therapists in Ohio at that time. She was good and even was the first therapist to diagnose my Bi-polar depression at a time when I had to fight a major battle just to get out of bed and go to work.

On top of that, she gave me the best advice that I have never listened to. That she could do nothing about me wanting to be a girl. Only I could fight that battle, if I chose to. As I said, I chose not to listen and went on to fight a losing gender battle for years which turned out to be a waste of time and energy.

The next therapist of note that I had turned out to be a match made in heaven by such a place as the Veterans’ Administration. When I applied for gender affirming hormones under VA’s new program way back then, I had to go through therapy to be approved. It ended up working so well that not only did my new therapist pave the way for HRT, but she also ended up producing the paperwork I needed to change my legal gender markers within the VA and in the outside world too. I was with her for years before she moved on to another hospital and now the only therapy, I need is the LGBTQ support group meeting I attend most every Friday.

As you can tell, therapy has been a mixed blessing for me. At times, it is a total waste of time and energy but at other times a real-life saver. Perhaps it was my own fault because I did not understand you can only get out of therapy what you put into it. Being the self-contained, stubborn person that I am, it took me a while to understand what I was trying to accomplish.

As I backed off therapy as my major impact in my male to female femininization process, I began to rely on my dealings with the public to get me by in life. I still needed major help, but I needed to find different places to find it. That is where my socialization process as a transgender woman became so valuable. Since I had become a social person as a male before my wife and close friends had all passed away, I was intensely lonely with no where to turn except to my inner feminine self.

She guided me slowly to a spot where I still needed help but could hide it. What I mean is I could learn from every social interaction I encountered. The small group of ciswomen I socialized with became my teachers and even my protectors without them even realizing it. I was going through a master’s class in gender at such a rapid pace I could not believe my good fortune. For the first time in my life, other women were coming to me for help as a transgender woman. They sensed my background in both the major binary genders could prove to be valuable lessons for them as women with men.

It felt good to me to be able to pay forward in any small way I could any of the lessons I had learned the hard way. Being with therapy or any other help I could give. It is another reason I decided to start blogging about my gender dysphoria so many years before. It is interesting to read any of those ancient posts and see how many of them just revolved my appearance as a cross dresser before I transitioned into a full-time trans woman.

Sometimes too, help can come in ways when you least expect it. From a supporting spouse, all the way to finding your whole new LGBTQ community, there are many ways to find help. Hopefully, you can find your own help. No matter how large or small it could be. Just be ready to accept it when it is offered.

 

Did I Believe in Magic?

 

Image from Delphian Lacub
on UnSplash.

It is rare, but on occasion, I still hear the question of when I knew I had gender issues.

The truth of the matter is, I always knew I was transgender. I just did not know how to express it until I was older. It was after my early explorations into my mom’s clothes did, I realize the potential magic I was holding when I carefully tried on her clothes knowing fully it would not be long until I would outgrow all her wardrobe and I would be in never-never land when it came to finding feminine clothes to wear.

Somehow in the near future, I made do with stretching elastic girl’s clothes I found in the lost and found box at the school I went to. I had a short skirt I managed to squeeze into that I cherished forever it seemed. Around that skirt I managed to build the basics of my style with the money I earned from allowances and stray jobs I found. I delivered newspapers and even mowed a cemetery for a dollar a hour in the hot summer sun, just so I could sneak out to a store and buy more feminizing items. Through it all, I believed in the magic which made me who I truly was.

It was always difficult for me to hang on to my trans truth because at the same time I was experimenting with being a girl, my male self was actually able to establish himself successfully in the world. Which just served to tear up my fragile mental health enough. Until you must wake up in the morning wondering if you are a boy or a girl, you don’t know what I am talking about. I would not have wished it on my worst enemy.

On certain occasions, my magic was strong and I felt like a girl when I looked at myself in the mirror. On other occasions, life was hell when I could not find the time to sneak around and cross dress as the girl I was. It was during those times; I had to rely on just that small amount of magic to get me by. One of the problems was I was so envious of the other girls around me at school in their pretty clothes and admiring looks from all the boys. I dreamed of being just like them.

It wasn’t until I began to explore the world as a novice transfeminine person, did I finally realize what my magic was all about. All of the doubts I had on where I was headed in my life began to dissolve when I began to feel so natural in my progression. Life was a blur as I was going out to be by myself in the world as a transgender woman. By doing so, I was able to meet strangers who accepted me for who I was. For the first time in my life, I was able to shed the long shadow of the remnants of my male past.  Every night, I was able to find my way out to one of my regular venues, be it lesbian or straight, I never wanted to return to my male self at all and lose my magic.

It turned out, my magic never went away, it just became stronger. So much so that I made the move to forever give up my male ways and start gender affirming hormones or HRT. The hormones just reaffirmed and strengthened my belief that magic could happen and I could indeed be the transgender woman who could forever lose her male past and survive. I could change my life from being married, with friends, family and a great job into a much more mellow existence.

It just took me too long to realize how deep my magic went in my life, and how backwards I had my whole existence and how much pain it caused me. It was my fault because I did not believe in my own magic enough to do something about it rather than be a part-time cross-dresser. I always point out I have nothing against cross-dressers at all because I depended upon it to live my life for so long.

Did I believe in magic? No. Should I have, absolutely.

 

 

Time Flies When you are a Crossdresser

Image from UnSplash. 

Since now I have been blessed with making it to the age of seventy-six, I spend a lot of time wondering what I did with my life.

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I spent much of my time running from myself by changing jobs and moving my family. At the same time, I was doing all of that, I was busy cross-dressing to keep my fragile mental health together. I started the same way most of you with gender issues did by trying on my mom’s clothes and moving on from there. The urge was so strong that I even went out and got a newspaper delivery route (back when newspapers were relevant) so I could make extra money to buy my own makeup, panty hose as well as other feminine items I could afford. Before I knew it, I was becoming fairly proficient at applying my own makeup. So good that the first time I talked a ciswoman into making me over into a woman, I thought I had done a better job with my makeup.

Those were during my college days which were split in two by my military duty during the Vietnam War and all cross-dressing activities were brought to a complete halt. When you are younger, years are more precious and the time away from my makeup, dresses, and wigs seemed impossible to face. Somehow, I made it through and even discovered the magic of attending a Halloween party dressed as a woman while I was in the Army. The good news is I did it but the bad news was the time was very limited, and I had a lot to go over in my mind including Halloween was then another year away. What would I do in the meantime to help solve my cross-dressing dilemma.

What I tried to do first was to drink my gender problems away, which only partially worked because when I sobered up, my issues were still with me and sometimes potentially worse when one night in the Army I told three close friends I was actually a transvestite and like to wear women’s clothes. Not just at Halloween. I was lucky, the word about my gender issues never got out to my higher ups and I went on to serve out my time with a honorable discharge.

When I rejoined civilian life, I had the chance to seriously consider making the gender jump from a male life to a female one. Following serious consideration, I felt the leap would just be too far to make, so I reluctantly chose to stay on the cross-dressing path I was on. To do just enough in front of the mirror to maintain my sanity.

Nothing changed until I began to leave my mirror behind and experience life in the public eye as a novice cross-dresser. Or so I thought. All was good, until the night something clicked in my mind when I was getting ready to go out to the straight venues I was visiting when I left the gay spots behind. As I examined myself in the mirror, I stopped and said what I was doing.  I suddenly felt empty and needed more and then concluded I had taken just dressing as a woman as far as I could. I needed to experience the next step which was actually interacting one on one with other women as an equal. Even though the idea scared me to death, I needed to hitch up my big girl panties and transition again into a full-fledged transgender woman. The venue I chose was TGIF Fridays I was familiar with as a man and I knew if I could make it past the hostess stand with no extra attention, I had a good chance of finding a seat at the bar with the other women who were just getting off work at the nearby mall. Amazingly, my plan worked to perfection, and I made it to the bar and claimed my seat. The bartender waited on me without showing any signs of gender disgust and I even ordered a second drink to celebrate my successful major transition in life. From serious cross-dresser to novice transgender woman. Even saying the word felt good to me.

By the time, time was flying by as I was trying desperately to build a new transfeminine life while at the same time maintaining a long-term marriage and successful job. I found I was not too successful as a juggler because the same time I was feeling good and natural as a trans woman my male life would sneak back it and ruin it for me. Eventually, it all became too much for me to handle mentally, and a suicide attempt followed.

Maybe I spent too much time in my life obsessing over my feminine appearance which I attribute into being a very serious cross-dresser. Certainly, all the successful public appearances I made as a woman were not helping me with my ultimate goal of living my dream. In the long-term, I never bargained on going through two major male to female femininizations to even come close to discovering if I could find my true life and live it as a successful trans woman. Maybe I was too shy or scared to go too fast. One way or another, it is too late now to cry over torn panty hose. Life gives us only one chance to get it right.

Wherever you maybe in your gender transitory journey, I hope you can steer clear of the major roadblocks’ politicians are attempting to out in our way as transgender people. May your path be as smooth as possible as your own time flies by as a cross-dresser or transgender woman.

  

Is It All Competition

 

Image from Gavin Allenwood on 
UnSplash. 

As I began to follow my gender journey, I did have some sort of an idea on how cis women compete in the world and how it differs from men. The one mistake I did make was thinking women somehow operate in a kinder/gentler world when it comes to competition.

Once I was allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox and get into a couple brief but intense scuffles with other women, I learned the hard way that women were into it as much as men when it came to what was important in their lives. The difference being was what was important. Men of course, compete in athletics and business while women tend to build their lives around family and home. And let’s not forget the influence of appearance with women. While it is a shallow existence, some women have a tendency to make friends and socialize with other women who fit in with their appearance. I remember quite clearly trying to watch my pre-teen granddaughter try to socialize with and fit in with a much prettier girl at a birthday party she was at. This extended with me all the way to a lesbian mixer I was at one night when a friend of mine wanted me to approach a very pretty femme lesbian for a date for her. It turns out that both my granddaughter and lesbian friend were both out of luck.

Not unlike when men try to date beautiful women and get rejected. I know when I started down the path of getting out in public as a novice transgender woman, I was only concerned about my appearance. I felt I was working to compete one on one with the other women in the world I met. How was my makeup, hair looking and did all my accessories match the rest of my outfit was all that was important to me. It took me awhile to go through this portion of my life as a cross dresser and emerging as a wiser more mature feminine person.

It was also about this time when I started to really engage with other women. Which was a real challenge because I was so timid. What would I say and how would I say it became I bigger priority other than just how I looked. I discovered too, the power of the submissive compliment to start a conversation. An example was when another woman would come up to me and compliment my earrings to start a conversation. When in reality, she was just curious to find out what I was doing in her world. In particular, I found out that I needed to beware of the you look great compliment because it could be tied into a compliment such as a man dressed as a woman.

It turned out, when I built my own circle of ciswomen friends, I did not need to worry as much about competition in the world anymore. When I was approached, it was when I was part of a group of out-going women who without thinking, shielded me from any negative people. The process worked wonders for me because I could set back and learn how to act from the other women around me and only step up and out when needed to secure my place in the group.

Slowly but surely, my competition turned to confidence that I could live the dream life as a transfeminine person I never thought I could be. I began to join writer groups with my wife Liz which in turn helped build further my new life because these people never knew anything about my previous life as a male. It all separated me from my old unwanted life and propelled me into a future I so wanted.

Furthermore, I did not have to compete in the world with other women. If they had a problem with me, so be it. It was their problem not mine. I did not have to please everyone was a powerful moment in my life. But without all the gender competition I went through, I would have never made it to the point I am today. I learned from how men compete with each other as well as women from both sides of the gender spectrum. Typically, men don’t compete well with women at all, and I knew that going in. So, I knew what to expect. With other women though, I did not have any idea at all. It took me a long time to learn feminine competition and how it worked.

As I said, once I did learn to compete in the real world as a trans woman, my life changed for the better and I truly began to live the life I always dreamed of.