Where Do We Go From Here?

 

Image from Shifazz Shamoon
on UnSplash. 

Typically, as we follow our winding gender journeys as transgender women or transgender men, we reach points where we must decide what we are going to do next.

It is especially intimidating to see all the political anti-transgender ads on TV funded by far away billionaires such as Theil and Musk who are pouring millions into defeating Democratic candidates here in my native Ohio. Especially the ones stating that the Democrats are extremists who supported sex change surgeries for children in school. That is about as far as I want to go politically in this post, so I will move on to what really matters…each of us and how we feel.

If the so called “civilians” in our world knew what we have to go through to see results in our individual gender worlds, they may understand more what it is like to be in our shoes and being constantly bombarded with negativity. Following years of struggles (or decades) I was fortunate to have found my way into discovering who the true me really was and most of the years of turmoil went away. Even still, I needed to follow a journey of steps which led me to blind curves which I knew nothing about.

All I discovered was that I had an unique life worth living to the fullest and very few other human beings can live a life which enables them to experience both sides of the binary gender road. It meant being able to exist in a life I never really wanted to live as a man. Slowly stop it altogether and start all over to earn a place like the other gender. As frustrating as that life as a trans person can be, the rewards can still be there if you can answer all the what’s next. Since most of us begin our lives cross-dressing in front of a mirror, there is plenty of ground to cover. Because we are destined to have such a small knowledge of the gender we are seeking to become. Again, because we are stuck on the outside looking in.  

Gaining access to your new life can take many paths. Sadly, many involve marriage, family and friends we do not want to give up but have to. The ways to announce your true self to the world can be done in several ways. Some just pull the band aide off, cross-dress and say here I am to the world, while others write letters and others still try to soften the blow by providing positive feedback from the internet or social media. Sometimes, I think I chose the most painful way of all as I tried to maintain my marriage to a woman I loved deeply while I knew all along that my truth was going to slip sooner or later. To make matters worse, she knew I was a cross dresser from the beginning and accepted it but told me time and time again she would draw the line at any moves I would ever make to going the transgender route and taking HRT hormones. She did not want to live with another woman. An answer I could never debate.

I guess you could say, I wanted the best of both gender worlds as I tried to do better and better in the male world I learned to survive in, while at the same time work very hard on my makeup and wardrobe to appear more realistic as a woman. All I was doing was creating severe friction within the marriage and within my head. If I was not thinking about work, I was thinking about how I could improve myself as a novice trans woman. Which I was just understanding that is what I was.

Without fail, I would get moody and nasty when I did not get my way and be able to cross-dress when I wanted which led to more friction within the marriage and more fights. In the heat of battle, my wife told me a couple of things I should have reacted to sooner. One of which would have been difficult for me to do and the other I should have been doing all along. Being called a “Terrible woman” was one thing I did not understand until I had the chance to live my truth as a transfeminine person and the other time she told me, “Why didn’t I be a man and live like a woman.” She was right, I should have done it. No matter how painful it would have been for me to carve out a new life for myself during that portion of my life when I was in my thirties.

Another problem was the sizeable male ego I was still carrying around with me. He wanted me to look and act a certain way as a novice trans woman which my wife did not like. Which led to more fights. The only revenge I ever got on her was the night she was forced to ask me for help on her makeup when we were invited to an upscale business dinner. At least the “Terrible woman” was better at makeup, I guess.

The thing it took me years to understand was that it was never about looking terrible as a woman, it was all about being socialized as a ciswoman. Sadly, my wife passed away before she could ever get to know the new improved feminine me. It took me until I was in my fifties to begin to get admission into the Girls’ Club and fully understand more about what my wife was talking about all those years before. I was suddenly on the verge of knowing where I wanted to go from that point forward. As every part of my being was telling me I was making the right decision about my life and should go for it.

I would not recommend taking the amount of time I took on my gender path before I made the final decision to live a life I always thought was going to be a dream. I think now there would have to have been a better way or like my second wife said, “Be man enough to be a woman.”  At the same time, I had my reasons for not doing it when I did which I will discuss in-depth on another post.

In the meantime, I hope you have a clearer understanding of where you want to get to in the everchanging world of trans women and trans men.

Thanks so much as always for reading along and I hope somehow, I have helped you on your gender journey. Comments are always appreciated!

 

Is It too Early for Halloween?

 

Early fall Image
JJ Hart

As I look around the neighborhood I live in, I see people putting up their Halloween decorations already.

Then I began to think of the supposed “good old days” when about this time in September that I was starting to seriously consider what “costume” I would wear and how could I maximize its use by going to as many parties as possible. It just did not seem fair to me that I had to wait for a once-a-year party to express my feminine side without the fear of retribution. The worse that could happen to me were the other women at the party asking me who helped me with my makeup and did I really shave my legs for one night.  I was learning a valuable lesson about how curious ciswomen could be when you cross the gender highway into their lane.

Basically, my biggest decisions came as I thought about which theme I would follow year to year if I was going to the same party. And how creative could I be with my “costume” Ironically, my first big attempt at dressing feminine at a Halloween party came when I was still in the Army in Germany, when I was invited by my future wife to go to a hospital’s party. I had a couple of other wild friends who had their costumes already picked out and were coming as various forms of the male and female anatomy. So, I thought it would be an ideal time to fall from my cross-dressing wagon that I had been forced to be on for two and half years and come as a trashy prostitute.

I do not remember now how I got the clothes I needed to complete my outfit, but I was able to put together a short mini dress, long blond wig, hose and heels for a very effective costume. Since I still had approximately six months to go in the Army at the time, I was happy that no one seemed to care that I was dressed as a woman at the party.

When I was discharged from my military duty, and Halloween rolled around, I had a different challenge to face with all the newfound freedom I had. One thing I did was get away from the prostitute look and try to find a way to find a “costume” like what a ciswoman would wear.  In other words, I wanted to go to the party and try to pass as another woman enjoying herself. During the first multi-party Halloween night I went to, I think I did well. I went as one of the French girls I had seen in Paris when I was in the Army and brought the look home with me. I paired a all-black outfit which featured black tights, mini skirt and leotard with my blond wig, red lipstick and topped it all off with black flats and a black beret.

I was having a very good time entertaining myself in one of the big local clubs I went to which was having a Halloween party when a guy in a full mask approached me and simply said “I know who you are.” At first, I needed to recover from his comment before he went on to say, “I know because you look just like your mom!” Then I knew who he was and did not know whether to be flattered or not before he did not say anything else and went on his way. I did know I looked like mom but not that much.

From then on, I began to build my Halloween “costumes” from scratch and only used my many trips to thrift stores to help me with items for what I was going to wear. All I really knew was that I enjoyed my self immensely in my new world as a transgender woman and wanted to see if I could take it past the party scene and into reality. There would be other significant parties I will write about later, for now I had to learn if the build up to Halloween was totally worth it. I learned it truly was because of all the early lessons I would need to learn if I was ever going to decide to try to cross the gender border and live full-time as a transfeminine person.

I also realized that Halloween would be just the briefest thrill in what would be a long life of gender discovery. Would the overall gender euphoria of making it through the parties successfully be worth it when I had to crash back to reality and my increasingly boring male life. Plus, I found it was unbearable for me to just wait a whole other year to experience my feminine side again without me going out in public. I took my gender life into my own hands and began to explore the world in malls and outside in different venues such as bookstores which helped me build my confidence as a novice trans woman.

I went further, quicker than I ever thought I could and forever put Halloweens behind me as a necessity in life and more of a fun pursuit. In its place, I would be trying to carve out a brand-new feminine life of my own. It was the beginning of the most terrifying yet exciting time of my life. Mainly because I was stripped of all my old male protections and had to start all over again in a world where I did not know who to trust. Including myself because everything I knew was changing when I left the good old boys’ club for good and applied for membership in the girls’ club that I had so long waited to join. I was just at a point where I needed to convince ciswomen around me that I was serious and brought different qualifications to the feminine table. I had to suggest I was a woman too but just had been socialized a different way than they had been.

In many ways, Halloween was the earliest part of my socialization process thanks to the early interactions with ciswomen (and men) that I experienced. Immediately, I found that men I had known for years ignored me as a potential cross-dresser or whatever they thought I was. It did not matter. I was out of the club.  While at the same time, women I had known for years were curious about me. Lessons that had carried with me well in the learning years to come.

That is why I will forever miss the early excitement I felt around my early Halloween parties and why I still feel the fun I felt when I see the neighbors putting up their decorations early. Who knows, there may be a person in the family with gender issues also.

 

 

 

 

 

The Age of Gender Innocence

 

Image from Nicola Dowie 
on UnSplash.

I used to think that my initial days of cross-dressing were the most innocent days of my life. I was very young and the feel of the feminine clothes on my body and the expectation of seeing myself in the full-length family mirror brought me to the height of anticipation. For the moment at least, I was putting aside all the worries I had of ever being able to live successfully in a male world.

Now, with the benefit of age on my side, I wonder if I was ever so innocent. Sure, I loved all the things about being a cross-dresser such as shaving my legs and wearing panty hose, all the way to feeling all the sensations of being able to wear the same pretty clothes I had seen the girls around me wear. The biggest problem remained was that just the wearing of the clothes was never enough. The thrill I felt of dressing up was guaranteed to only last a couple of days before I could not wait to do it again. Even my young mind knew there was still something wrong.

What was wrong was I was not a cross-dresser at all; I was a transgender woman waiting her turn to live in the world. In the meantime, I would have to depend on the temporary thrills of mirror worship to get me by in life. It all set me on a very long path of gender discovery. Complete with many ups and downs along the way to make the journey either very scary or at least very interesting. It took me years of mirror living before I could ever gather the confidence I needed to finally conquer my fears and go out into the world as a novice trans woman. Of course, there were the on-going challenges of learning makeup as well as shopping for my own clothes on an extreme budget. When I discovered the thrill of shopping at thrift stores, I was able to find clothes that fit me well by having the chance to try them on before I bought them. If I made a fashion mistake when I got it home, it was not such a big deal because it did not cost that much to start with.

Rapidly, my days of gender innocence were fading away as I became more involved in the world of ciswomen. I quickly discovered their world was much more than just the external world of fashion, hair and makeup. Their world was so much more complex than a cisman’s I was not prepared for it. I found I had a lot of work to do to be accepted at all. To prove I belonged there at all, the first step was to prove I was serious about doing it. I would first have to prove to other women, I was not trying to enter their world as some sort of a dare, or that I was not up to something no good. I desperately wanted to cross the gender border and join the girls’ club and leave the men’s club forever. When I was able to, entrance behind the gender curtain opened for me like never before.

It took many times behind the curtain for my innocence to really go away. I needed to battle my paranoia with being shy to start with and then having to communicate on a whole different level before I could relax at the girl’s night’s out I was suddenly being invited to comfortably. And that was not the only one thing I needed to deal with. Such as how I would ever dress to blend with the rest of the ciswomen in the group I was invited to. I certainly did not want to embarrass myself by dressing too much or not enough and finding that special point where I blended right in. My innocence was real, since I was dealing with a world I had never been in before, but the pressure was real because I wanted to make it a success so desperately. I can compare the experience to first dates I went on with women I did not know well as a man. How would I start the conversation and what would I say.

It turned out I did not have to worry that much because the group conversation was easy to follow without men around. It flowed around family basically and the relationships the women were having with their men. I just flip-flopped my past life as a man to one of a woman. Being purposely vague about key issues such as not having the birth of my daughter but I was there when it happened. My communication efforts seemed to work with all but one woman who just glared at me. I ignored her glare and stayed in the conversation and got invited back.

As I experienced more of the world as a trans woman, the more my innocence went away. Sure, I encountered the occasional toxic woman or TERF but with my confidence level soaring I was able to handle most all of them. If you are wondering why I have not mentioned any men, it is because there were so few of them. For the most part, they knew I had left the men’s club and wanted nothing to do with me, Plus, I cannot take all the credit for my success I had a very tight knit group of women friends around me to support me too.

Perhaps the most lesson I learned about gender innocence was the amount of difference there is between the two main primary genders. Basically, I learned that men operate on some sort of a power matrix. When they are challenged, they are less likely to give you a chance unless there is something in it for them. Women, on the other hand, are much more open to the world. Especially when it comes to their sexuality, which is not as frail as a man’s.

As I always say, if you are just starting up your gender path, be prepared for a change in your innocence as you enter the world of your preferred gender. And thank you for reading along as I described mine.

 

 

I Wish I Knew Why

 

 

Image from Jon Tyson
on UnSplash

It has been a while since anyone has asked me when I knew I was transgender. In fact, it was several years ago when one of my grandkids was coming out to my daughter as being trans.

My daughter then asked me if I had always known, true? I told her yes that was true except in the exceedingly early days of my life when I knew something was wrong with me but I just did not know what. As I grew older and I experienced that first magical visit to mom’s clothing drawer did I truly knew what the problem was. I really liked the feel of mom’s clothes and that was only the beginning as I wanted to be a girl full-time sometime in my life. Just the buzz of wearing feminine clothes was never going to be enough. So, I set out on a long journey to see if I could ever achieve my dream.

When I was able to begin to interact with others with gender issues, I found early on that it was not going to be the end to my questions that I thought it could be. For example, I was too much girl for many of the cross-dressers I met and not enough woman for the then called transsexuals I encountered in person at the social/mixers I traveled to. The closest ones initially were nearly a two-hour drive away before mixers were then set up in a nearby central location for me. It was then that I was able to meet others who identified as true transgender women and I fit in perfectly with them. Finally, I began to have answers to my identity as a person.

Of course, I needed to take all sorts of side journeys as I sought out the key to why this transgender world had chosen me. In my research I even came across the theory that the drug “D.E.S” which was given to women with a history of problem pregnancies around the time I was born, could conceivably be linked to a person having= gender issues later in life. Because to ensure the fetus went full term in the womb, the womb was flooded with estrogen to aid the birth process. I thought “D.E.S.” might fit me because my mom had suffered through three still births before I came along. Ultimately, “D.E.S” stayed just as it started with me. Another solution to an extraordinarily complex gender problem with no concrete answers.

Then there was the victim mode I wrote so much about when I went through a poor, poor pitiful me time of my life. I could not understand why I needed to be stuck with all the gender issues I had when no one I knew had them either. To this day, I envy men who have been able to go through their lives as men without the added distraction of wanting to be a ciswoman. Finally, I made the difficult turn considering my overwhelming desire to be feminine as a good thing. Because it set me off from society as a unique person with a look at both sides of the gender border. Removing my victim mentality made all the difference in the world to me as I began to look ahead for the possibilities which laid ahead. Rather than always looking over my shoulder and dwelling on the mistakes I had made.

The more success I experienced when I first was able to carve out a new life for myself as a transfeminine person, the more the wish I knew mentality I had lived with my whole life began to fade away. From that point, I went into my confidence mode because without it, I was powerless to do anything I wanted to do as a trans woman. I found that as long as I held my head high and did my best to be a quality person in the world, the more people left me alone since humans are like sharks. They sense blood in the water, and I was not adding any of mine. Confidence also allowed me to try different things. To judge if I really wanted to jump the gender border and give up living life as a man altogether. Even though it was the most difficult decision of my life, having even a sliver of hope that I could live my dream that propelled me forward to a gender tipping point that so many ask about.

This time, I could tell anyone who asked why I decided to leave a successful male life to take on a decided uncertain one as a transgender woman. The answer I always gave was deceptively easy. I had reached my own gender tipping point where I was living more as a woman (and feeling natural doing it) and less as a man as I was feeling increasingly uncomfortable doing it. By doing as much research as I had, I had given myself no choice as what I should do. When became now and that was the time, I decided to take the next step and pursue gender affirming hormones or HRT to sync my inner mind with my external body the public saw. I knew it was the point of no return for me as my body took to the new hormones magically.

I knew from there that all my explorations as a trans woman pus the addition of HRT allowed me the most powerful female privilege of all. The power to finally be myself. The wish I knew why I was different my whole life was answered with a resounding yes, I did know it all along and refused to face my own truth. I was living a counterproductive life as I was going overboard trying to be successful as a man when I was a woman forced into her shell all the time struggling to get out. The best part was when she said I told you so, as she destroyed what was left of my old male ego.

I finished strong when my why me became a why not as I had the chance to live my feminine truth among the ciswomen of the world.

Thanks for reading along and I hope you will discover your why me in life! Comments from you are always welcomed.

 

 

 

 

Loving What You Do as a Trans Woman is Never Work

 

JJ Hart Doing Transgender Outreach. 

Perhaps you have heard the old saying about hard work. It goes something like this... If you love what you do, it is never work. Anyway, I looked at it, the phrase really fit my life as a transgender woman or an early cross-dresser.

Even though, early on it was hard work finding one of mom’s dresses I could still fit into and not rip apart in the seams, I still tried it. As I grew into a more mature version of my feminine self, I learned my work to transform myself into the woman I was always meant to be was not going to be an easy task as testosterone poisoning was ravaging the body I wanted to have as a girl during male puberty. While the girls around me were developing the curves I wanted, all I got was a larger angled male body I hated. If I wanted to continue, my path was cut out for me, and it was not going to be an easy one to follow. I would have to make it a labor of love to ever succeed.

The first thing I needed to do was find feminine clothes that fit me, and at the same time disguised my male body with my large torso, broad shoulders and narrow hips. Plus, I had the extra problem of look really liking the feminine shape wear I need to wear to suggest I had hips when I cross-dressed as a woman. It was always too restrictive for me to enjoy and I was not careful; the restrictions went as far as hurting my chances of success in a women’s restroom setting. If you know what I mean. What I did was make extensive use of pieces of foam which I wore under my panty hose to give me the illusion of hips under the skirts and leggings I wore back in those days. I remember spending day upon day of destroying foam rubber pieces until I thought I got them just right. That solved the hip problem partially so I could concentrate on my all-important breasts.

To advance my presence in the world as a transgender woman, having the proper breasts was another labor of love and at times a comedy show. Before the advent of easily obtainable silicone breast forms, I tried a number of ill-fated ideas to give myself the proper breasts which fit the size of my body but were not too big and looked like I came from a circus somewhere. Before my first silicone breasts were gifted to me by a purging cross-dresser friend of mine who was getting rid of all his feminine belongings, I tried exotic ideas such as bird seed and water balloons. Water balloons I liked because they warmed to the temperature of my body and did a realistic job of looking like real breasts in the bras I wore at the time.

All along, I knew on the negative side, I was taking a big chance using water balloons for breast forms because they can easily break. And of course, the worst-case scenario happened to me one night when one of my balloons broke in public. Luckily, I was going to the women’s room anyhow and it was empty so I could clean up and head back home to end my love affair with water balloons as breast forms forever.

As I put all this concentration into making my transfeminine better, I was concentrating less on my male life. Although it was a labor of love for me, it was not for my second wife who grew tired of my obsession to be an attractive woman and told me I was missing the whole point of being feminine. It was not to be obsessed with makeup and clothes; it was being able to slide behind the gender curtain and see how ciswomen’s lives really play out. It did not take many times of being called a terrible woman for me to drop what I was doing, change course and try to find out what she was trying to tell me. Then I found myself in a “Catch 22” of sorts because if no one would allow me to play in the girls’ sandbox how would I ever learn to do it. It was like the job interviews I went to, where they told me I did not have enough experience but would not give me a chance to work for them and gain the experience.

I finally had to stop being the victim and head out into the world to discover what my wife was talking about. If indeed I was a terrible woman, I need to correct that and move forward. It was then I went on a collision course with myself to determine what I really wanted in life. Did I want to be the successful man I was becoming or have the chance to live out my dream living in a ciswoman’s world.

The labor of love that I entered involved me having to learn what a ciswomen’s life was all about. I knew it was going to be quite the change to learn a new scary complex world, but I was not prepared for the barrage of information I needed to deal with. It seemed that half the women I met wanted to interact with me and find out what I was doing In itself, interaction was not bad if I was ready for it. Which I was not. I had to go on a crash course in understanding my communication with women like I had never known before. I was used to listening to ciswomen the way cismen always to by hearing only what they want to hear and ignoring the rest. Woman, on the other hand, have so many nuances in their communication that I had a lot to learn. But again, it was a labor of love for me and no work at all. If I had put that much work into my college studies, I would have finished with a four-point average. It showed me where my priorities in life really were.

From the first time I tried to experiment with mom’s makeup to living the life I live today, my male to female gender transition was never any work because I loved doing it.

I also love writing for you in the hope I can help you along in your life’s journey. Thanks for reading along and any comments are always appreciated.

 

 

 

 

 

Being Accommodating...Not Intimidating

 

Image from Billie
on UnSplash.

Being accommodating versus intimidating was very difficult for me as I transitioned from male to female.

It was all part of learning a new feminine world and escaping the male bonds I had suffered so long from. What happened was, I was thrust into a male dominated world in which if I was ever going to survive, I would have to play the intimidation game of life. That way, I could stand a very good chance of keeping the bullies away as I matured. It did not hurt that I developed into a larger slightly above average sized male person (which I hated) but again when I added sports into my life’s mix kept the doubters away from my masculinity. In fact, I needed to play that intimidation card well into life and used it before I transitioned into a transfeminine world. Intimidation became easy to use for me, and I counted it as one of my male privileges even though I stopped short of ever being a toxic male because I respected all women so much. But it worked well with the male kitchen crews I needed to manage in the busy restaurants where I worked.

The problems began with my basic personality outlook I had been forced to live so well when I began to try to join a world which was largely controlled by ciswomen, not cismen as I always thought was the case. Women just found unique ways always to work around males and their drama. And here I was in the middle of a new world just trying to find my way successfully.

I felt it most intensely when I was forced into communicating one on one in the world with other women. I found I was unprepared and initially just tried to keep my mouth shut, which turned out to be exactly the wrong move to make. Here I was trying to make new friends in a feminine world without talking? How was that going to work. It did work. In exactly the way I did not want it to. If I did not express who I was, the other woman I was trying to communicate with just assumed I was being standoffish or in some way stuck up which was the last thing I wanted to do. So, I immediately trashed my male scowl and quiet behavior as a form of intimidation to keep people away and went to a more open form of interaction with the public which invited people in. In many ways, it was one of the most intense and scariest things I ever went through in my life. I was in uncharted territory for sure and even resorted to feminine vocal lessons to help my progress.

And then there was the experience I had with a small girl who startled me in a clothing store I was in. She ran around a rack of clothes and almost hit me and went running back to her mom saying something about a “Big mean woman.” Immediately I was relieved that she got the woman part right but right then and there decided to do more about the old male intimidation factor I was obviously still carrying with me. In no way did I want to go around scaring little kids.

Life went on, and so did I as I started to feel more secure in my new role behind the gender curtain. I learned that many ciswomen were just curious about who I really was in a world in those days dominated by day-time sensational talk shows such as Phil Donahue and Jerry Springer. Here I was. The real deal cross-dresser or transgender woman right in front of them to talk to and know that I was just a normal person like them after all. It all happened because I had the courage to let them into my world and turn my old male intimidation ideas off for good.

Perhaps the most intense topic in the intimidation versus accommodation discussion came from my initial introductions to the women’s restroom. It was the exact opposite from the men in many ways except the obvious. In the men’s room, you were expected to never make contact or acknowledge another man while in the women’s room just the opposite was true when a polite smile or greeting was the proper way to acknowledge another woman. It took me a little bit of time to get used to the change, but I did it quickly because I wanted to earn my women’s room privileges desperately. For obvious reasons, I was drinking a lot of beer.

I see intimidation versus accommodation as just another step in acclimating yourself into the feminine world. But you have to do it right to be accepted. You must be yourself behind the gender curtain you choose without becoming a doormat. As an outsider to transgender men everywhere, my thoughts are it probably is more difficult to assume an intimidation role in a male world. On the other hand, accommodation in the female world I was in was always an easier path for me to take. I just had to understand and react to anyone who was setting up to take advantage of me. I came away with plenty of claw marks up and down my back from unfortunate experiences I had in a new (to me) passive aggressive ciswoman world. I learned often that a smile meant nothing in most situations when another woman was just sizing me up.

In the end, the whole experience just boiled down to very important experiences I needed to learn to finally make it out of my closet and into the world as a transgender person that other people would like to know and often my smile was the beginning of that process instead of my stay away old male scowl. The fun part often was seeing the results from the amount of learning I needed to do in my stubborn head to make it happen.

As always, thank you very much for joining me along my gender path and I hope you gained something from my mistakes. Any comments are always appreciated!

 

 

 

 

Leaving the Male Noise Behind Me

 

Image from Vinicius Amano
on UnSplash. 
 

I write often of the misadventures I had growing up as a gender I never wanted to be. Often my life seemed unbearable when I made a big error on the baseball field or missed a key tackle on the football field, causing my team to lose. When I did, the only thing I knew to do was to run home to my dresses and makeup and do my best to tune out all the noise of male failure in my head. If I could not be a good athlete, maybe I could try to be a pretty girl.

To make matters worse, the older I got, the more noise kept popping up in my head. Especially from my male side, who was increasingly watching any chance o a future he had slip away. Successes such as making it through the military, and job promotions did not help either.

As the probability of a male to female gender transition increased, the noise did too. Mainly because I noticed an increase in the male world, I was never have been a part of. Perhaps, it was because I was thinking about leaving it anyhow, so I was looking for sure if I wanted to.

One of the sounds I noticed the most were coming from the alpha-males who were posturing for a better place in the world. Since in many ways, my job forced me to be successful in my competition with the alpha’s (as well as my upbringing) I could listen to the noise and tell exactly where it was coming from and how I could compete. Which ultimately led me down a path I had no desire to be on.

The further I traveled along the transgender path I was on, the more I noticed the noise from both sides of the gender border increasing as I stopped to look around at one of the many stop signs I had along the way. Sometimes the screaming from both sides reached a pitch I could barely stand as each side was yelling, they were better. To make matters worse, my male side had most all the advantages which he used to his benefit when he stated his claim on my life. Afterall, he had been there from the beginning and had taken the time and effort to learn how the male world operated and how he could fit it. All my feminine side could do then was continue to cross-dress in front of my favorite mirror and dream of an uncertain future.

The one main thing she had going for her was she had the advantage of feeling natural when she was allowed to express herself in the world. It was a powerful emotion which at least kept the male screaming down to a minimum, for a while. What always happened was, I had a several days of gender euphoria after I cross-dressed which would sadly fade when I mentally and physically had to go back to my male world. Which was far from being a mellow existence. The gender headphones I was continually trying to wear in life never seemed to work well. Even to the point of causing so much guilt, I would purge (throw away) my feminine clothes and vowed to never wear them again. You know how ell that worked as my female side screamed louder and louder to once again be a bigger part of my world and I would be forced to give in.

The sad part about all the noise I was subjected to internally and externally by my gender dysphoria was wrecking my fragile mental health. I never bargained, ever having to deal with the stress of having to bargain with two of the main binary genders ripping my life apart. I only survived by taking advantage of finally listening to good therapists who told me that my gender issues would never just go away and would always be a part of me. I guess you could say that it was therapy which helped me cut through all the noise and essentially saved my life from being extremely self-destructive.

Finally, when the noise reached a fever pitch, I needed to take drastic measures to do something about it That is when I went on an aggressive all-out push to see what a ciswoman’s world was all about and better yet, could I ever be accepted into it. My so-called discovery tour took me out of the worlds of dark gay venues into the lights of straight places such as TGIF Fridays which back in those days was becoming a safe venue for single women to go to. To do what I wanted to do, I needed to put my extreme fear of discovery behind me and see if I could survive in Fridays. When I did, a portion of my noise suddenly made sense to me, and I realized what I needed to do to tune out the rest.

I was proving to myself that there was nothing wrong in what I was doing, and I was starting to ignore all the panic warnings I was receiving from my male side about what I would lose if I left him behind to follow a feminine road. The best part was, the more I started to listen to the feminine noise, it made me feel better about where my life was heading. Even though many of the things I was trying scared me to death, as I succeeded in each step, I was building a calm confidence I would never lose.

Of course, the more my feminine noise clamed me and made me whole, my male noise started to subside to a low whimper. Gone were the days of being lonely and searching for my gender identity when I discovered ciswomen lesbian friends who gave me mine. As they taught me more about validating my own womanhood than they ever knew they did.

Very soon I even healed from my destructive days of listening to all that male noise and was able to throw those old gender headsets aside and live my dream life.

Hey you!!!! Thanks for reading along with how I escaped my male gender noise and maybe it can help you escape yours too. In any case thanks for being here!

 

 

 

I Wanted it All

 

Image from Sindy Sussengut
on UnSplash.

During my gender journey through multiple transitions from cross-dresser to transgender woman, I have been selfish and wanted it all.

It all started very early when I was experimenting with mom’s clothes and makeup when I had the first idea all that I was doing may go deeper than just wearing feminine clothes. I did not have the terminology or knowledge back then to work my way through it, but in reality, I was discovering I was more transgender than anything else. In the years to come, that would be a major point to think about along my gender path.

As I grew through my first two marriages where both wives knew of my cross-dressing desires, my first wife was far less demanding than my second and on numerous occasions during fights we were having about me, my second wife rightfully pointed out that our relationship was not all about me. Since I was in the middle of an obsession with my appearance and all things related to makeup, as I said she was right and I was needlessly selfish about our relationship. She was far wiser than I and knew even at that early time in our marriage, her husband was slipping away.

Even though I loved her dearly, I still could not stay away from the powerful draw of wondering if I could ever achieve living fulltime as a transgender woman. Deep down, I knew my second wife would never come with me on my journey as she made it abundantly clear she never signed up to be married to another woman.

With a lot of work and repetition, I did finally get better with my wardrobe and makeup and then needed to figure out how to sneak out of the house and get into the world. It basically meant my imagination had to go into overdrive as I tried to think of reasons I needed to explore the world as my new true transfeminine self. Even if I was not sure what the word meant back then. I went as far as going to the grocery store for my wife who was working on the days, I was off and combined the trip by going to a nearby big box store to shop for panty hose and makeup. My biggest takeaway came when I noticed very few people were noticing me and I started to think I wanted to experience more. My restless feminine spirit was dominating me again.

At the same time, I was doing all of this, I was still searching for my dream job in the commercial restaurant business and after switching jobs and locations several times, I finally did. As I finally broke free of my fast-food background and landed a job with “Chi-Chi’s” Mexican Restaurants in the Columbus, Ohio area where I had ties to. It was a win-win situation for me because I was back home again and could start to interact with the diverse small LGBTQ group that I had known from years previous. This was the tight knit group that had several transgender women who were on their ways to gender realignment surgeries, and I could pick their brains on what it meant to do it. Even though, I did not have the resources or the willpower to consider such a radical move for me in my future, Just being considered as an equal in their group was good enough for me…then.

I say “then” because in life everything rarely stays the same. As I continued to break the vows I had with my wife, I kept going out to venues from the house and began to actually carve out a life as a transgender woman with people who had never known my male side. Wanting it all was staring to mean so much more to me than ever before as my male life began to slip away from me and wanting it all increasingly meant an ongoing break with my long-term marriage of over twenty years. Because she was not giving into her demands, and I was discovering just what mine should be if I was willing to risk it all to live my dream life. Sadly, it would have to be all me to do it as I tore down everything I had worked for as a man to start over in a woman’s’ world.

Sure, I was scared to death as I decided to keep concentrating on the feminine me who had waited so long to live her life. But the whole process and path I was on felt so natural, I decided to be selfish and continue it. By proceeding along the path I was on, I needed to take several abrupt detours when I had problems with deciding my sexuality all the way to just basically communicating with the remainder of the world I was in. Which I discovered was made up of ciswomen not so unlike my second wife. Many were strong and sure of themselves and set up forms of communication which were totally foreign to me as I was coming from a male world. Suddenly, I needed to adjust to forms of non-verbal and passive aggressive communications which were reserved for use when cismen were around.

Perhaps my best selfish move I made was to be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT which enabled me to come closer to my transgender mentors of so long ago. Since I had ruled out any surgeries, the changes from the hormones would be as far as I could go to sync up my female mind with my male body.

By this time, my wife had passed away and there were very few people left who knew the old me at all. So, I was mostly all-alone with my new emotions and bodily changes such as hair, breasts and hot flashes. When I reached out to any of my lesbian friends, all they would say was welcome to their world. Little did they know how badly I wanted to be there. I was rewarded by the fact that the people who knew the male me told me they thought I was much more relaxed and happy now.

Since I can now love more deeply than I ever could as a man, my life has come full circle to encompass feelings I never knew I had before. All because of my selfish one sided past to get here. I wanted it all and finally was able to find it.

Thanks for reading along and I would be remiss if I did not mention two things. Thanks to Grace Ann Hansen for publishing my stories in her “Empowered Trans Woman” site!

And sadly, I would like to mention the passing of a true icon, Dolly Parton who was a staunch ally of the LGBTQ community. She will be severely missed.

 

 

 

 

On A Gender Vacation

 

Image from PR Media 
on Ubsplash.

As I matured as a person and a crossdresser, taking a vacation from my male gender became a reality for me.

It all started when I first felt the inclination to try on articles of my mom’s clothing and moved on from there. Very soon, I spent as much time as I could in front of the family’s full-length hallway mirror imagining myself as one of the pretty girls I envied so much. Before my unwanted male puberty set in, I did not have so far to go to be on vacation from my boyhood self. Then the changes set in and I began to develop the body angles and shape of a man as the girls around me were showing off their new curves in pretty clothes.

At that point, vacations became harder to earn, as it was becoming more difficult for me to look like a girl at all and try to work my way around having no knowledge of makeup at all. That chapter of my transgender notebook (like all the others) was empty, and I struggled not to look like a clown in drag at the circus. In a very short time, I became aware that if I was to ever reach my dream of living my life as a transgender woman, I had a long, hard struggle ahead.

It did not make matters any easier when I went on family vacations and saw other girls my age in cars on the highway. One young dark-haired beauty still stands out as one I remember. As I saw her time and time again when we passed on the highway, I so wanted to be like her and put my pillow over my head and pretended to sleep. No imagined vacation for me on the real one. My gender reality was with me all the time.

One way or another as life went on, I needed to do something to survive. Somehow, I needed to break through the bonds of the increasingly complex male life I was living and start to carve out a new transfeminine existence on my own. If my reality was indeed female, I would have to do something about it. What I did was begin to mix business with pleasure on my vacation. Business was when I was learning that ciswomen ran the world I wanted into and pleasure was when I was able to finally blend in until I was allowed behind the invisible but so real gender curtain.  To maintain the lifestyle, I was trying to lead, I needed to do a lot of research and repetition to see if I wanted to be there at all. Those were the nights when I broke away from all the gay venues I was going to and started to see if I could be accepted in lesbian and straight places.

The vacations I took into the world as a new transgender woman turned out to be life changing for me. For once, I did not have to wonder what if would be like to live in the world as a woman and just do it. My time away from my old boring male world, took me into a wonderful new life as the woman I always wanted to be. I was the trans woman at the big sports bar enjoying my large beer as I watched my sports teams play on the big screen televisions. Occasionally, I received some pushback from a toxic man, but it was not enough to deter me from having a good time. Mainly, because of my confidence in who I was building every time I was successful trying out the me, I always should have been. I was not building anything new, just allowing my true self to flourish in the world.

At that point, it occurred to me that my vacations were changing drastically. Instead of believing I was taking vacations from my male self as a trans woman, I was now taking time from my feminine world to allow my male self to finish up important things such as working and keeping up a false image of a man for the world to see until I could fully complete my male to female transition. Since I had accumulated so much male baggage over the years, clean up was not going to be easy. Finally, it occurred to me that transitioning to my new life was going to be an all or nothing proposition…or was it?

A big decision I needed to make was involving my sexuality which had never been a question for me in my male life as I had never been physically attracted to another man ever. It did not help me when I got a suggestion from ciswomen to buy bananas to get ready for a new sex life that never came. Even though I had dates with several cismen, nothing ever sparked within me and we never went anywhere except kissing, Women, on the other hand were different as I still cherished their company which I found they enjoyed mine too as they went on vacation with me. Since HRT hormones took away any possibly of traditional sexual intercourse between me and another woman, by choice I took it off the table.

It all led me to wonder what I would do about sports, the one big passion left in my life. Could I still interact with the world as a passionate sports loving woman or would I have to give it all up. It turned out that no, I did not have to give up my passion, it just changed direction like so many other things in my life. For example, when my lesbian friends and I were talking sports, we did it on an equal footing. But when I talked sports with a man, often I needed to take a back seat to his sports knowledge even though I had plenty of my own. I learned my lessons and moved on.

Even though many of my vacations from life were just quick, cheap escapes, many were extensive, expensive paths to my future life. Plus, they handed out much needed respites for my often-battered mental health as I battled depression and anxiety. It all helped me to survive and make it to my dream goal I never thought I could make it to. A life as a transgender woman.

As always, thanks for not taking a vacation to read and comment on my posts. Your input always means a lot to me!

 

 

Keeping My Mouth Shut

 

Image from P.A.U.L.A.
on UnSplash.

As I wrote before, yesterday was one of those busy days when everything seemed to come together to get things done.

The day began innocently enough when I went with my wife Liz to two of her doctor’s appointments. I have long since stopped being anxious about going to a medical waiting room because everyone is so wrapped up in their own problems or their cell phones to notice a stray transgender woman just going about her business.

For the day, I decided to get brave and poke the bear so to speak by wearing a T -shirt I received when I was a board member of the Dayton, Ohio Rainbow Elder Care Alliance a few years ago. The shirt proudly displays a pride symbol on the front and has a “Support LGBTQ Elders” on the back, so I was prepared if I triggered any negative feedback from a stray gender bigot or TERF. Ironically, it did not matter because the waiting room was empty the entire time I was waiting for Liz to get done. In some senses, I was disappointed that I did not get a chance to show off my shirt to anyone, so I took it off when I returned home and saved it for today’s birthday lunch for my daughter and son-in-law who are coming down from Dayton for her party.

We are celebrating a little early because she is leaving for Maine to climb a mountain there on her actual birthday. She is the mother of a transgender child so I thought my LGBTQ shirt would be appropriate.

The real fun started yesterday when I went to my Veterans Administration weekly virtual LGBTQ support group meeting. That is where I could not keep my mouth shut and brought politics into the group as a new member made a snide comment when I mentioned I was getting access to a brand-new VA satellite clinic made possible under the Biden Administration. Everyone else cringed as I simply said Biden was a real improvement over the Russian asset, we have now. I was ready when the new person who identifies as a trans woman then said she never votes anyhow and I was going to say then you are part of the transgender community’s political problems. But I saw the look of panic on the moderator’s face, so I stopped. Because I care about not breaking the group’s rules and getting asked to leave.

My mouth is one thing I inherited from my mother and passed on to my daughter who is a strong ally of the transgender community. Her reaction when I came out to her was anger because why she was the last to know and kept in the dark by her mom and stepmom. She calmed down when I told her that mom and stepmom only knew me as a cross dresser and fought all the way any idea, I was a transfeminine person. One way or another, it was a great relief to get the coming out process to her out of the way and even a bigger relief to know she completely accepted me. In fact, for my birthday that year she treated me to a visit to her beauty parlor/spa for a color and cut on my hair which suddenly was getting long enough to style professionally. I don’t know if I was more scared or excited the first time I went, but I made it and loved my hair. I knew them why so many ciswomen consider a regular visit to the salon a must in life. After I was done, I thought I could probably miss a day of my Estradiol pills because of all the Estrogen in the air in the salon. I loved it.

My main problem when I first began to communicate with women on a regular was keeping my mouth shut too much. So much so that I thought I might be coming off as unfriendly or worse yet as some sort of a bitch when in fact, I was just too shy to speak. I had not practiced my feminine voice enough to have any confidence on how I sounded when I needed to switch from my old unwanted male voice into a new vocal pattern which fit the new feminine me. I even went as far as having feminine vocal lessons which taught me how to speak in a more pleasant manner and get my point across, often in a passive aggressive manner. I certainly did not achieve miraculous results from my vocal work but did enough to express the true me.

In many ways, keeping my mouth shut became impossible when ciswomen in particular began to ask for my opinion about men as they recognized the unique position, I held living on both sides of the gender border. As inherently shy as I was, it was a good way to practice my new vocal pattern to fit how I appeared to the public.

These days it is particularly difficult for me to keep my mouth shut when it comes to politicians taking away our rights as transgender women and transgender men. In my native Ohio, the state Bureau of Motor Vehicles announced they would no longer give trans people new driver’s licenses under their preferred gender and only issue one with a corrected birth certificate which is extremely difficult to do here in Ohio. I did not find any information on what they might do about renewals as my license is good for another year and a half. Here in Ohio also, having a current picture identification allows us to vote unless it is changed too by the Crook in Washington.

On a sad note, I just learned yesterday that I had lost two transgender woman acquaintances to death. One was an icon here in Cincinnati who I believed passed from Parkinsons and the other was down in Tennessee and died from unknown circumstances. Hopefully, they are both resting in peace now.

Back to a brighter side, it is time to get ready to meet daughter and son-in-law for a Mexican lunch at our favorite restaurant.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Busy Day

 

JJ Hart

Today will be a busy one for myself and my wife Liz as I am going with her to two doctors’ appointments. So, I will have no time to write.

Going with her on her visits is normally not a big deal because everyone else is normally wrapped up in their own worlds or on their phones. Not enough to notice a stray transgender woman in the waiting room. Also, going dressed casual is no problem because I blend in with all the other ciswomen.

Today, I am getting radical and wearing one of my pro-LGBTQ elder care lavender T-shirts, which if anyone decides to read close enough, they will surely identify me as a trans woman. I don’t care because if I encounter a gender hater, it is their problem not mine. I relish it because of all the years it took me to have the confidence I do these days when I encounter the public.   

In addition to the new T-shirt I am wearing, I am just going to wear a pair of blue leggings along with my new tennis shoes for a comfortable walk. I am putting off a close shave until I am done with this post because I also have my Veteran’s Administration virtual LGBTQ support group meeting later this afternoon and I want to look my best for it too. These days, it almost takes me as long to brush out my long hair as it does for me to shave and apply a light coat of makeup and lip gloss.

I doubt if anything very exciting will happen, but if it does, I will write about it.

 

Burning my Gender Bridges

 

Image from Issiac Viglione
on UnSplash. 

The first time I tried a dress on and put on mom’s makeup, I burned a couple of my gender bridges. Because deep down inside I knew I could never go back.

After a few missteps, I became quite used to it. Even though what I was doing by cross-dressing and building new bridges was quite risky to the only life as a boy I had known, I kept on burning the old bridges and building new ones. Fortunately, the new bridges I was building were the product of better construction than I had ever known before, I still had such a long way to go.

Early on, the problems I faced were simply formed by the lack of experiences I had being a feminine person at all. My gender workbook had never been filled out because I had never been allowed to hang out with the girls and have the chance to understand their lives. There were no girl’s sleepovers for me to go to get peer input into how I was dressing or ideas on how I should apply my makeup. It seemed as if I was stuck forever in my male world and I could not get out.

Another problem I had was I built too many invisible bridges that I did not need to. I was and am a worrier and I routinely build structures just to jump off of them it seemed. That has continued to be a lifetime problem of mine as we can take yesterday’s routine trip to the drugstore as an example. The store is very close to my house but yet I needed to worry about getting there and back in one piece, as well as what I was going to wear and not forget all the items I needed. Of course, I just dressed casually for the trip and it came off without a problem as I got everything, I needed including birthday cards for my daughter’s upcoming dinner my wife Liz and I are hosting her for before she heads off to Maine to climb a mountain to celebrate her 50th birthday. Already, I am stressed about what I am going to wear to the restaurant.

As I matured into a more complete transgender woman, of course I discovered more things to build bridges on or around my life. For the longest time, I refused to face the truth in my life that I was always meant to live in my femininity and leave my male life behind. It was then I started to run, move often and change jobs so I could better support my two women. My second wife and myself. All my building was doing was destroying my already fragile mental self as I desperately looked for answers which were there all along. Anyway I tried to cut it, I should never have been forced into a male box when I was born and had no power to do anything about it.  

It wasn’t until I got out of my gender closet and became familiar with the world as a trans woman, did I really have to begin to burn my old male bridges to the ground. Specifically, when I got out of the gay venues, I sought out some sort of safety and solace in and started testing myself in the real world did I discover how many bridges I had destroyed and how many more would have to go. If I was ever going to have the opportunity to live my dream. I was running as fast as I could in my high heels away from my old male privileges I took for granted until I torched them. Such as sacrificing part of my intelligence and all of my personal safety when I was allowed behind the gender curtain and out of the boy’s club.

The bridge which surprised me the most was when I needed to communicate with the world of ciswomen who let me in and wanted to know more about me. It was a shock to my system to have to actually carry on a conversation or better yet begin one because I did not want to come off as being unfriendly with another person, mainly women. The overwhelmingly group of men as a whole left me alone since they had the sense, I was a traitor to their club. It turned out that if I did not want to burn the bridges between men and myself, they did it for me and they were replaced by the ciswomen I felt more comfortable around anyhow.

When I worked on my male to female transition, the bridges I was building had to be so much stronger than they had ever been before. Mainly because I was risking life as I knew it to do it. Over the years, I had accumulated so much male baggage I needed to figure out what to keep and what had to go so my bridge would carry the load. My baggage included the usual suspects such as spouses, family and friends as well as employment. Again, I was fortunate when I discovered other women with the same interests as me such as watching sporting events.

Lately, I have been receiving comments from readers who are just beginning their gender journeys and the only advice I can give from the other side is to build your bridges well to withstand the changes you will go through. And don’t forget there are many ways to achieve your goal. You can go the surgical route to transform yourself into the person you always knew you should be and go the hormonal route like I did when I was able to thrive with the help of a few ciswomen who showed me my way to build my own bridge into a feminine world. The end result should be whatever feels good and natural to you, you should go with. The one life you have to live should be yours, even if your path to doing it may be a little more different and difficult than everyone else’s. Don’t be like me and take years running from your truth before you face it and win and are able to proudly walk across your bridge.