Imagine your Dream

 

JJ Hart on left, Pic Nicking with Liz on right.

Yesterday, I went with my wife Liz to her appointment with her “vampires” to have her blood labs done.

When I did, I had a chance to sit around and watch the other ciswomen in the waiting room and see if they were watching me at all. They were not and went on as they all were too busy on their cell phones to even come close to noticing the trans woman in the room. Instead of me joining them on my phone, I thought back to a time when just going to a doctor’s appointment was not such an easy task because of all the gender paranoia I was feeling. A gigantic case of impostor syndrome to be sure.

Early in life, as I imagined my dream of living a transfeminine life, I never factored in all the mundane things a woman does during her life. I was too busy being the “Pretty, pretty princess” as my second wife always called me. And to her I would have been about the furthest thing away from being any sort of a princess in the waiting room that there was. I would have never dreamed I would have been seen in public without being dressed from head to toe as close to an attractive woman than I could.

Nobody but me cared that my dream had changed and I was alright in jeans, t-shirt and light makeup to be seen anywhere in public. I was just another person with very long hair and breasts in a doctor's office. Had I become lazy in my old age or just dressing to blend in with a public who increasingly does not seem to care about feminine appearance.

Maybe I was just being selfish in that I was OK with just dressing to blend in with the rest of the world around me who were too busy on their cell phones to notice me at all. Is that what my dream had become? Perhaps I am being too demanding in my dream that I wanted it to turn out a certain way. And, I certainly did not set out to be some sort of a leader in the ciswomen’s fashion world, I had had enough pressure on me to lead for a lifetime when I was living in a cisman’s world. I just wanted to fade into a new world and learn it totally. As I come closer to the age of seventy-seven, I think I can safely say I have reached that goal I set so long ago.

Coming up Saturday, my daughter and son-in-law are making the trip down to Cincinnati from Dayton, Ohio to bring me a scrap book of family pictures and have breakfast with Liz and I. For that visit, I will certainly attempt to dress up more for the occasion, which will include a new top I bought, along with new flats and even tying my long, long hair back also. She is the only accepting blood relation I have left, so it will be good to get out of the house and see them.

In many ways, the visit will prove my dream is not dead as I get to relive the fun of dressing up different as a transgender woman. Which was one of the fantasies I had when I started so long ago up my gender path. I should have known that my path would have been different as I veered away for just wearing skirts and dresses and sticking with slacks and women’s pants. Much to the chagrin of the cross-dressers around me who kept asking me why I would want to wear pants when I had to wear them all the time as a guy. My only answer was that I liked the way I looked in them, so now you can go away and mind your own business.

I guess you can say that even in my formative years as a novice transgender woman, I have always been a “tom-boy” of sorts. Which is probably another reason I fit in so well with the lesbian culture that I did in my jeans and boots. One way or another, the pieces of my lifetime dreams puzzle were coming together and even though I was too stubborn to initially accept it, the finished puzzle was all me. “Tom-boy” and all.

I was fortunate too when I discovered that and became a firm believer in my gender was completely between my ears and not between my legs. Which made feel less bad about not having any access to the early sex-change or gender realigning surgeries which were available at the time. My complex life was slowly coming into focus, and the best part was that I increasingly felt comfortable and confident with it.

Coming full circle back to Liz’s blood work appointment, I had the chance to remember the bad old days when even such a mundane trip such as that could cause me strain and paranoia. It felt so good to feel good about myself and confidently walk in proudly holding Liz’s hand. I never wanted to go back to the early days of gender dysphoria and impostor syndrome that I suffered through.

The moral to the story is that if you are on your path to a gender dream goal, there is no real unique way to get there. Ciswomen lead such complex lives that they leave you many ways to carve out your own. Way past the shallow aspects of appearance and sexuality. Which gives you more interesting sidelights of your life to explore and live. Just remember to stay safe as your personal safety privileges you had as a man go away forever. You are just learning what ciswomen have always known…stay clear of toxic men.

In the end, it is your dream to claim if you can get there, and to do it you may face challenges until the final pieces of your puzzle come together. Just remember, you are attempting one of the complex and difficult efforts a human can try and even if it so difficult to do, it can be worth it in the end.

 

 

 

 

Exceeding my Expectations

 

JJ Hart

I once worked at a great job where the company’s motto was, we exceed expectations.

As luck would have it, about the time I worked there was the same time that I really kicked my gender explorations into hyper-speed. It was the time when if I was not spending time with my second wife or working, I was out the door as a novice transgender woman learning the world. Looking back, that period of my life seems like a blur as both sides of my gender personality competed for attention.

In many ways the competition was not fair because I was beginning to feel so natural in the feminine world as my fear of doing it subsided. I was discovering that my testosterone poisoned body could indeed be shaped into something that could blend in with the ciswomen who ran the world I wanted to be part of. My confidence rose every time I succeeded in presenting successfully in the world as a transfeminine person. I was exceeding my expectations and many times I could not believe it was me.

To do so, when I could, I picked out many feminine things I could do to prove to myself that I could. Such as the time I was able to do the “Black Friday” Christmas shopping with the overwhelming majority of the women in a mall I always wanted to go to back when malls were still the place to be to shop after Thanksgiving for deals. I had tried for years to schedule such an adventure but finally, the sun, moon and stars came together for me, and I was able to do it.

When I pulled into the mall, it was already packed and I was lucky I found a close parking place to a side entrance and wore my most comfortable boots with my big soft sweater and leggings to brave the Ohio cold and headed inside the warm mall. As I said, the place was packed with women on a shopping mission, and I soon learned they could not be bothered with worrying about a single trans woman going about her business. Sadly, I did not have a long time to spend there because I needed to go to work later in the afternoon, so I had to leave my adventure behind and drive home. But, on the plus side, I could mark another experience off my feminine bucket list as I finally was able to take on the world as a woman during one of their favorite activities…getting the best shopping bargains at the post-Thanksgiving Black Friday deals.

As I took that off my transgender bucket list, I needed to rack my brain to think of other primarily ciswomen dominated things to do. Next, I decided to try my hand on seeing if I could be accepted in a couple of the small lesbian bars I had heard of in the Dayton, Ohio area. I turned out to be extremely successful in one of them and extremely hated in another. Which at the time, I did not think was too bad. The venue I was intensely disliked in was essentially a lesbian biker bar which did not accept trans women such as me at all. But the other bar did and I ended up having several great experiences there.

Such as the night when I was forced to sing karaoke by a super-butch lesbian in a cowboy hat who I did not think she ever realized I was trans. At any rate, I made sure I had paid for drinks and left before she realized why my voice was deeper than hers when we both tried to sing a classic country song by “David Allan Coe.” Then there was the night I was approached by another butch who bought me a beer and told me she ought to pick me up and take me home with her. The only problem was that I was still married at the time, and my wife would have never believed me if I told her I was abducted by an alien lesbian. Probably the best part was, out of all the people I knew in the bar was the main bartender who by accident I learned knew my male self. I never knew if she had given my secret away that the “lipstick femme lesbian” everyone was approaching was transgender. Before I found out, sadly the venue had closed, but my expectations were exceeded when I knew I could be accepted by the lesbian culture.

Perhaps my biggest win came when I was able to get away from the gay venues, I was seeking refuge in from the world and try to become more of a regular in all the straight I sports bars I used to be a regular in when I was a man. I say the biggest win because for the first time in my life I was coming out of my gender shell with the chance to learn who I really was in my new trans womanhood. All of my expectations were quickly exceeded the night I finally gathered my courage to go back to the nights I thought I was only a part-time cross dresser and prove myself wrong. I was so much more as I struggled to learn about and live my reality. The night I did it for the first time at a TGIF Fridays, set a standard for me and taught me a lesson I could never unlearn, I could never go back to being a man again.

Setting up a whole new set of expectations for me was never easy. Especially when it comes to something as complex as living as a whole new gender. I was naive about how complex a ciswoman’s life could be, as I primarily learned I had so much more to work through than just worrying about my appearance. Which was just the first high heeled step into the real world of women. Many times, I needed to kick my heels off and dive barefoot into the girls’ sandbox to survive and exceed all the expectations I had ever had.

Hey You!!!! Thanks for reading along with all my writings and as always thanks for any comments you may have.