The Power of Pride

Image from Brian Kyed
on UnSplash.

Once again, it is Pride month. Time for celebrations around the country and sadly also time for all the transphobes and homophobes to come crawling out from under their rocks to try to protest.

Over the years, I was a regular participant in Pride marches in Ohio. Primarily the large ones in Columbus and Cincinnati. Very early on, I did not feel as if I had a substantial place to celebrate the “T” in the LGB celebrations. The closest I came to who I was when I saw a group of drag queens or weekend cross-dressers painfully trying to navigate the sidewalks in their sky-high heels. I did not have anything against any group; I just didn’t fit.

Fortunately, over time, things began to change for the better as I began to see more representation from all aspects of the transgender community all the way to parade grand marshals instead of the usual collection of drag queens. It was then I began to enjoy people watching to see all the many layers of rainbow life come together at a big party.

I had different things happen along the way too, like when my future wife Liz made me a shirt that said, “I was a transgender soldier, I fought for your right to discriminate against me.” I wore it into a Veterans Administration exhibit and received too many uncomfortable looks to be happy at the reaction, so I moved on.

Then there was the time that one of the main restrooms was out of order at a Cincinnati Pride which funneled all who needed to go into one restroom. I thought it was funny that all the TERF’s in the crowd who were anti men (and trans women) had to use the same restroom as everyone else. Everyone else except a stray hornet or two took it all in good humor and even went to the extent of passing extra toilet paper up and down the line. For once I was happy that if I was forced to, I could still use a hated urinal since I still had the proper equipment. I did not have to because the men’s room was the one that was closed.

That was the year Liz, and I went on a Pride Pub crawl when there were many more gay venues in the Cincinnati metro area. For a small fee, we were able to ride on a bus to quite a few venues and had a great time. Especially since by the time we finished the route it was raining. Since it was the summertime of the year, I decided to wear my blue tank top, denim mini-skirt and sparkly flip flops (because it was so hot and humid) I was ready for the weather. By the time we were done, we were drunk, soaked and happy we let someone do the driving for Pride as we finished up in a gay country themed bar doing Jello shots. It was one of the Pride evenings I never wanted to end.

I had other fun times when I went to Ohio’s biggest Pride with my lesbian friends in Columbus. Again, I enjoyed my company and the people watching I was doing and I did see other transgender women in the vast crowd. For effect, I wore the trans military themed shirt Liz made me again, but I just wore jeans and flip flops to go with it because I certainly wanted to be comfortable for all the walking I knew was ahead. Ironically, I could have worn much less since by this time, the HRT gender affirming hormones I was on had provided me with a well-formed set of feminine breasts and I could have bought me a set of pasties and joined the lesbian “tit’s out” crowd. But I did not go to that extent to expose myself to the world.

Along the way, I did manage making it to smaller Prides in places such as Yellow Springs, Ohio a very mellow, liberal diverse village who always manages a wonderful celebration of the LGBTQA+ world. One night in particular, I really wanted to see a famous local drag troupe (The Rubi Girls) perform. As luck would have it, I found a seat at the crowded bar next to a ciswoman who was dressed as “Debra Winger” from the “Urban Cowboy” movie, complete with the black cowgirl hat. Through our conversations, I never did find out if she was the real “Debra Winger” or not. Who knows, maybe I should have asked for an autograph but did not want to embarrass myself. As it was, I stayed through the show and donated what I could afford to the “Rubi’s” who at that time had raised over a million dollars for Aids research.

These days, the world has shrunk for me, and I must watch and envy the Pride celebrations from afar because our LGBTQA+ community has a lot to celebrate such as our resistance to and visibility from the politicians who want to crush us. It is sad that Pride encourages all the keyboard cowards to come out of the woodwork in their mom’s basement to harass us. I just hope my writing in such a small way keeps me visible when I can’t be because when I was younger and healthier I enjoyed the Prides I went to.

I also hope the crazies are kept under control wherever you go to celebrate your Pride because you deserve the chance to do it. In Cincinnati alone, later this month, they are expecting a turn out of three hundred thousand people.

I have resigned myself to the fond memories I have of Pride with the close friends I made around me. Together, they made the celebration so much better than they ever knew. Even if you are just beginning on your gender journey, you can celebrate Pride too. Since you are starting to face the long and difficult process of answering many highly personal questions. As you do, your Pride may become a better place to express yourself with others who accept you. I found it to be an amazing experience.

 

  

Looking Both Ways at Stop Signs on my Gender Path

 

Image from Alex Azerbache
on UnSplash.

I learned the hard way; I needed to look carefully both ways when crossing my gender path from male to female. If I did not, I ran the risk of being caught in the wild world of everyday traffic around me. When I left my mirror for the first time, gathered all my courage and went out into the world, I discovered basically three groups of people.

By far, the biggest group I didn’t need to pay much attention to were all the people who were going about their lives and not needing to notice anyone else. The second group was smaller and mostly just curious. They were mostly women and were curious why a man would leave a life of privilege to want to live as a woman. Or at least try to look like one. Sadly, the most vocal of the three groups were the gender bigots, TERFS (cis women who hate trans women and want to deny our existence) or just plain haters who wanted to make my business theirs. I learned the hard way several times to take nothing for granted when I went out in the world and look both ways at stop signs on my gender path.

I also learned the hard way that no matter how good I thought I looked and moved on a certain day, someone would always see through my efforts to be a presentable transgender woman and take exception with it. Some were mean and wanted to make fun of me, and some were not but I always had to be aware of the possibility of ill-will coming my way. I needed to come to a full stop until the unpleasantness went away, and I could go about living the new life as a transfeminine person I felt so comfortable in. When my confidence began to grow to a point where I could navigate most of the public comfortably, I did not care what the occasional gender bigot thought, and my confidence turned out to be my biggest weapon against hatred against me. It was tough to do, because the confidence was so frail but somehow, I was able to do it as I became more effective in my feminine presentation skills.

It probably was because this was the time of my life when I was obsessed with every little aspect of my appearance as a woman. Every now and then, I take the time to go back and read some of my earliest posts and I am continually amazed about appearance centric my writings were woven around. Just the right amount of makeup and how I did my eyes, all the way to just the right accessories to go with my outfits were prime examples of what I was writing about. It was no wonder that my second wife delighted in calling me the “pretty, pretty princess” when she told me I knew nothing about being a woman.

Rather than discourage me, her comments spurred me on to try to figure out what she meant. All along I thought I was the ultimate student of the ciswomen around me, only to learn I had not yet scratched the surface of what I needed to learn to earn myself a spot in the girls’ sandbox. Looking back, I do think my expertise in making my feminine appearance better did help me because for the most part (except for my wife) most ciswomen knew I was serious in my journey to be let behind the gender curtain as I needed to stop on my gender path, look both ways for ciswomen, let them through and then move ahead on my own. And by the way, the “princess” got her revenge one night when my wife needed to ask for advice on which makeup to wear.

When I finally was allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox, the stop signs I routinely faced really began to multiply. I had gone the extra distance to lead my inner feminine trans person out of the mirror and into the world by doing a deep dive into the basics of makeup and appearance all the way to working diligently on my feminine movements so I would not look like a linebacker in drag in heels at the mall. All my efforts worked out so well that the world wanted to communicate with me. Which put me into shock because I was woefully short on any experience to do it. All I had ever done was speak very briefly with cashiers and was not prepared to carry on any sort of a conversation.

All I did know was ciswomen communicate on a different wavelength than men and I needed quickly to find out what it was and how to do it, so I could survive my next stop sign. Surprisingly, I was a quick learner and mimicked the women around me the best I could until I became semi-comfortable in conversations with them. Primarily, I learned that for the first time in my life I needed to listen closely to what another woman was telling me because she could be talking in feminine “tongues.” In other words, I learned ciswomen use a lot of nonverbal communication when they don’t want men to know what they are talking about and use a lot of passive aggressive words when they communicate. When I stopped at the verbal stop sign, I needed to use extra caution to make sure a smiling face was not hiding behind my back aggression when we interacted.

I survived my communication days partially from taking feminine vocal lessons which specifically helped me to use terms which were more feminine in nature and not so male orientated. Which I was used to. I said I was a quick learner, but learning fast was all I could do to survive in the new feminine world I loved so much. I found myself immersed in a labor of love that I wanted more and more of every night that I spent interacting socially with my ciswomen friends. It was like I was back in grade school again learning the basics of being a quality feminine person.

From then on out, the only stop signs I saw were the ones I learned on my new path with women to stop at which they had done their whole lives and I was making up for in my own way quickly. The “pretty, pretty princess” had grown up, but sadly my second wife missed my progress when she tragically passed away early in life from a massive heart attack. I don’t think we could have ever stayed together. Being friends on the other hand was probably a possibility because we were together for twenty-five years of our lives. It will be forever one of the mysteries I will never solve. A giant stop sign.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Visiting Andy Warhol as a Trans Woman

The late Candy Darling.

Years ago, The Ohio State University was hosting a huge exhibition of the work of artist “Andy Warhol”.

Since we knew how trans and LGBTQ friendly Warhol’s work was to the community, a small group of my transgender women friends hopped in my SUV and we headed to nearby Columbus, Ohio to check the exhibition out for ourselves.

The first thing I noticed from my friends was that they were all wearing their high heels which had a strong probability of becoming very uncomfortable if we had to walk long distances. Since I knew the campus a little bit, I knew we would, so I chose more comfortable flats for the walk. I was happy I ended up sacrificing fashion for comfort because we ended up having to park a distance away from where the exhibition was being held.

Of course, we expected no push back at all from us being there to see Warhol’s work and especially because of his connection with trans stars “Candy Darling” and “Holly Woodlawn” who was featured in “Lou Reed’s" famous song, “A Walk on the Wildside” which among other things mentioned shaving legs and he becoming a she. So, we felt no apprehension about going and mixing in with the surprisingly large number of families that were there. Of interest, here was what Warhol said about Darling: “Candy didn't want to be a perfect woman—that would be too simple, and besides it would give her away. What she wanted was to be a woman with all the little problems that a woman has to deal with—runs in her stocking, runny mascara, men that left her. She would even ask to borrow Tampaxes, explaining that she had a terrible emergency.”

For the most part, the group of girls I went with behaved themselves and blended in quite nicely with the crowd of people around us except for there is always one who tries to ruin it for the rest of us. I had the misfortune of being on an escalator immediately behind a trans woman I had barely met when all of a sudden, she grabs both sides of the escalator and spreads her legs up in the air and wide apart. I was in shock that she needed to pull off such a low class move with all the kids and families who were around. I guess she wanted to show off her recent genital realignment surgery to the world, but I let her have it. Saying I wanted no part of her exhibitionism.

Other than that, I enjoyed the exhibition immensely as I was able to learn more about Warhol than I ever would have had a chance to do on my own without the support of my transgender women friends.

All too soon, it was time for us to leave but way too early for us to go home. So, we decided to try out a well-known gay venue in Columbus that we had never been to. The place was packed, mainly with gay men, a group of lesbians, and a group of intoxicated cross dressers who I did not know it then would come back negatively to impact my visit with my friends. Since I was driving, I needed to only have a couple of beers and just in case, needed to use the women’s room before we left on the long trip home. As always, I tried to wait for the best opportunity to use “the room” until I got to the door and it said for use by “real women” only. Which I was later able to find out was because of one of the intoxicated cross dressers breaking all the sacred restroom rules in front of a lesbian when she was in there with him. I guess he did not even sit to pee and urinated all over the toilet seat before leaving without washing his hands. It was no surprise the sign was on the door as the drunk ruined the privilege of using the women’s rest room for all of us.

I was rather naïve that day and had never been around any transfeminine people in my life that could not conduct themselves properly in public. But, like any other group there are always a couple rotten apples that spoil it for the rest. I resent them because it makes it harder for the rest of us to live a so-called normal life.

The trip back home from Columbus to Dayton, Ohio was thankfully uneventful as we talked about everything, we saw at the Andy Warhol art exhibition at Ohio State. About how Warhol was so much more than just a soup can modern artist we had heard of and specifically his dealings and support of Candy Darling and other trans women such as Holly Woodlawn. In fact, there were so many exhibits of his writings and interactive learning also that it was almost too much to take in at one time.

As far as the “Flasher” went, I never saw her again as she lived in a rural area north of where I did and worked at a well-known big box store. I hope she was able to mature and put her exhibition days behind her, and I knew the restroom actions by someone or someone’s in the cross-dresser group were not representative of all CDs everywhere. But there are still repercussions when you cross the gender border into someone else’s sacred space. You must take care not to overextend your welcome.

If you ever have the chance to see and visit a Warhol exhibition, be sure to do it. Maybe you will be like me and come away with more of a respect for his work than I ever had before. He certainly represents another era of life which will probably never be seen again. In fact, there is a huge museum dedicated to the pop icon’s work to visit in Pittsburg Pennsylvania if you are close enough to visit it.

 

 

 

 

  

A Trans Girls' WOW is Real

 

Image from Raamin Ka
on Unsplash.

One of the many reasons I kept moving towards my dream of living as a fulltime transfeminine person were the “WOW” experiences I was having.

Of course, I was a fan of the gender euphoria I experienced when I cross dressed in front of the mirror as myself for the first time. The downside was the buzz from the euphoria did not last that long and then I was stuck back in the life of my unwanted male self. Deep down I knew there was much more to what I was doing except putting on pantyhose, makeup and a dress. I just was not ready yet to face my truth in life.

As I got older and more experienced in being a cross-dresser, I began to separate the gender euphoria episodes with the WOW times I had on very rare occasions. I suppose the reason was that I felt the euphoria so much deeper in my soul that I was doing the right thing with my life. It was then, that I began to seek out a term which described my life to me and it just happened to co-inside with the new use of the transgender word. When I first read about it on our new computer, I thought WOW that is me and I finally made a discovery I could really use to feel like I was not alone.

This new thought pattern led me into the belief that I was no longer a man dressed as a woman when I left the house, I was a trans woman of my own experiences capped off by the TGIF Friday’s experience when I gathered the courage to go out one night and mingle with a group of ciswomen just getting off of work at a nearby mall. It turned out to be a first of a kind WOW experience as I was treated fairly and even managed to put my fear aside and stay for a second drink when I pondered the fact that my life would never be quite the same again.

As I followed up on my Friday’s experience, my emphasis began to be on increasing my visibility out of the gay venues and into the straight ones. I WOW ed myself when I was able to be accepted as fast as I was in most of the liberal places I chose to try. Such as sports bars where I could enjoy a large beer and follow my favorite teams. No longer as a man but as a transgender woman when everybody of any worth left me alone. The WOW was real when I followed my basics of never causing any problems, being friendly to the staff and tipping well. It worked for me nearly every time except when I slipped up and tried to go to a couple redneck venues just to see if I could.

I think then, my WOW’s slowed down as I needed to slow down my advance into the world of ciswomen because of negative pushbacks from my male self and my wife. Both of whom did not want to see me as a woman of any type. My male self because he did not want to lose any of the male privilege, he worked so hard to build up, and my wife because she did not want to lose her husband. Both were quality opponents and put up very big fights. At the time, my inner female simply retreated and waited for her chance to live as part of my overall dream. She had temporarily lost the battle but eventually would win the war.

In order to win the war, my feminine self-had to continue to have the courage to carve out a totally new life as a trans woman in the straight venues I mentioned. I had WOW moments when I was even able to communicate effectively with men who were not intimidated by a woman who had left the men’s club. The whole process just helped me to be a better, more rounded person. I figured if I was starting from scratch again in life, I better do my best to do it the right way.

I must have been successful, because I was able (with a little help from destiny) to start a new complete life as a transfeminine person. My biggest WOW I always mention was the small group of diverse women friends I was able to fit into. Most were lesbians but some were not and even one was transgender. The best part was that I was beginning to enjoy my new life immensely and was starting to fit right in as I build in layers of living between the new feminine me and my old male self no one ever knew. Mostly from going to artists’ and writers’ meetups in Cincinnati as a total stranger and sharing my ideas of writing a blog. It all helped me to establish myself as me and help do away with the remaining shyness I had from meeting strangers.

The only real negative I had was a chance meeting with a drunk lesbian bigot who wanted to know my “real” name. The more I attempted to ignore her, the more she would not leave me alone until my future wife Liz came back and ran her off. The whole negative experience happened years ago at a lesbian Valentine’s dance in Cincinnati, but I remember her obvious dislike for me to this day. Certainly, a negative WOW since my relationship with the lesbian community had always been so positive.

As you can tell, my WOW experiences always came from me stepping out of my male gender box and trying new things. Some successful, some not but if I did not try, I would have never known how bright my future could be. My lesson to all of you is to be careful as you follow your own gender journeys, the world is a changing place for all of us and finding our niche is becoming harder. Hopefully, you can stay the course and be successful.

 

 

 

 

 

Who You Going to Call as a Trans Girl

 

My friend Raquel 

One of my biggest problems when I decided to test the world as a new cross-dresser or transgender woman was having no one to ask about my issues. For example, why was I getting “clocked” or read every time I left the mirror and went to the mall. It turned out that the issue was just tied into how I was dressing my male contoured body by not doing my best to blend in. Ciswomen everywhere were laughing at me from my cross-dressing mistakes and ruining my all-important confidence.

As I said, I had absolutely no one to go to, to discuss the problems I was having in the world. I had no mom to try to rein me in in my trans-teen years or a peer group of girls my age for me to copy. As it was when I was mom’s phantom daughter, I ended up wearing makeup and shaving my legs before most of the girls my age were allowed to do it. Mom, for some reason, never looked for the tell-tale signs of being a curious girl from her oldest son.

Skipping ahead quite a bit, my closet was truly dark in the years before the internet when all there was, was Virginia Prince and “Transvestia” or the “Tri-Ess” social mixers I used to attend every time I could. My hope was that I could find a friend or acquaintance that I could get to know to understand our unique gender issues, but it never worked out that way and I still did not have anyone to call with my cross-dressing problems. The only thing I walked away with was I came away with being more confused than ever before. I did not know how many layers of individuals I would be able to meet at the social mixers I was able to attend. Many more levels than the publications I was reading from “Virginia” led me to believe that existed when she was calling her group as one for heterosexual men only. She probably needed to turn a blind eye and ignore all the activity going on beyond the hotel room doors where the mixers were being held. There was most likely different kinds of mixing than Virginia and the “Tri-Ess” groups would have approved of.

All sexuality aside, there was a diverse group of people who attended, all the way from men in dresses with cigars and cowboy hats trying to hide their femininity to the ultra-feminine “A” listers who were on their way to gender alignment surgeries. Neither of which did I fit in with. I was somewhere in between once again with no one to call or hang out with and exchange trans-girl talk.

It turned out, I only made one significant trans friend and that was Raquel before she moved away from our native Ohio to Dallas, Texas. Even if we were on slightly differing transition paths, we still had enough in common to get along and socialize. She was headed towards gender operations and attracting men while I was on the path of staying the same physically and hanging out with lesbian women. Opposites do attract too in the world of transgender women when we keep an open mind about who is on the right path. The whole situation with Raquel briefly gave me a person to call, and I truly appreciated it even though we have not seen each other in person for years as she is still in Dallas and I am with my wife Liz in Cincinnati.

As I bring up Liz and other ciswomen who were instrumental in bringing out my best as a transwoman, my interactions with them brought on an entirely different dynamic. It was not as if I was calling them for advice on my male to female femininization project, they were always there if I needed them. I was still embarking on an intense learning project as I crossed the gender border for the first time. So, I needed their input like how my lesbian friend Kim handled a man harassing her in a sports bar about her “Pittsburgh Steelers” leather jacket. I did not have to call her for her knowledge; it was right there for my taking. Learning is always easier if you are having fun, and I was having a blast.

We transgender women (no matter where you are on your path) begin our lives as adults on the outside looking into to the world of ciswomen we so completely want to be a part of. In my life I went full circle of having my first fiancé dress me head to toe as a woman when I took the time and effort to call her. She ended up holding it against me for the rest of the time we were together and worse yet, I was not that impressed with her makeup job anyhow. In my circle, she was actually the only ciswoman I sought out for help. The rest, I learned the art of femininity by osmosis or by just observing everything my friends were doing and thinking I could do it too.

The main big problem comes when our frail confidence is shattered when someone says we can’t succeed and major setbacks occur. Unless you are fortunate enough to have an understanding spouse or friend to help you through the rough patches, it still is hard to find someone to call. My suggestion at that point is to seek out help from a local LGBTQ group you can interact with. In person or even virtually until you can regain your confidence about your authentic transfeminine self. Where there is a will, there is a way out of the darkest gender closet.

When you do, maybe you can reach the best step ever and be able to pay forward your confidence in life to help others in need. Which is my main goal for writing this blog. I don’t want to see anyone suffering needlessly in their dark closet.

 

Pressure Tested as a Trans Woman

 

Image from Jayson Hendrickson
on UnSplash. 

As I moved along in life, I became pressure tested on both sides of the gender border.

On the male side, I became embroiled with restaurant jobs which involved immense amounts of pressure to succeed and on my female side, I felt the same pressure to succeed when I was finally able to leave my mirror and enter the world. For the most part succeeding as a male meant more financial rewards, while the success as a transfeminine person meant more inner freedom to express myself.

Ironically, my success as a novice cross-dresser or transgender woman often came at the expense of my male self when he failed at a project in life and came running back to dresses and makeup for comfort. Even that became old though when my trans woman kept increasing the stakes in the basic battle to just be seen in public. She wanted more than the easy trips to women’s clothing stores where money was more important than gender. As she began to interact more completely in the world, the pressure to be tested time and time again increased dramatically. Especially when she had to do more than try to communicate with more than a simple “Hello” or “Thank You.” For the longest time, I was panicked and very insecure about holding any sort of a conversation with another person, woman or man.

The way I relieved the pressure of communication was simply tied to doing it over and over again until it became as natural to me as possible. I learned from my feminine vocal lessons, it was not as much about what you were saying as how you were saying it. And how I could interject little feminine vocal patterns into my speech, even though I still had a deeper voice than most women. I say most women because I immediately began to notice a few ciswomen who had lower voices but still managed to communicate in the world with no problems. All because they had the benefit of growing up around other women. As I said, the only way around my communication potential problem was to hitch up my big girl panties and begin to communicate with the world. Which in some cases was one of the last frontiers I needed to face as I climbed out of my mirror and into the world as a trans woman.

I discovered I did not really know any pressure on my initial excursions as a feminine person until the time came to use the restroom. Initially, I was very intimidated and made sure I waited until “the room” was empty before I snuck in to use it until I began to build some confidence in myself. When I did, I began to learn restroom basics such as making sure I took the time to smile and interact with any other women I may encounter. The exact opposite than what I was used to in any men’s room I used. Since I was not using the women’s room as any sort of a fun test just to prove I could, I needed to learn as much as I could about other women because of a natural need to do so. I did things such as trying to mimic the sound of “flow” when I went to the woman close in the stall next to me and of course, I needed to remember to look for toilet paper, hang my purse up and always, always stop to wash my hands as I examined my hair and makeup in the mirror. No matter how much of a hurry I was to get out of there.

Surviving the restroom wars gave me the confidence to lose some of the pressure I felt as I entered the world for the first time as a transgender woman. From there I could move on to bigger and better things such as being recognized as a regular in the selected venues I wanted to go to. When I did, I knew I would have the backing of the staff if and when I was approached by a gender bigot or TERF (ciswoman bigot) about what I was doing there at all. In fact, I think I became the token trans woman at several venues who were proud of their diversity and safely for the LGBTQ community.

If I was a more intelligent person in math, maybe I could come up with a quotient relating to how pressure relates to confidence, but I cannot. I am stuck just trying to explain what it meant to me and what it might mean to you if you are considering a gender journey such as mine. The easiest way to describe it is that it is an intensely personal journey that is often lonely and full of self-sacrifice. Which could also describe why the path or journey is so full of pressure to succeed in so many different ways. I say that because I learned on my path that there were so many different ways to achieve my dream of living the way I wanted to as a fully functional transfeminine person. Primarily I learned I did not have to be the most attractive woman in the room to be accepted. Maybe I could make it on my personality. Which is exactly what many ciswomen do.

When the pressure was off, the pleasure set in for me and I could begin to refine who I wanted to be as I pursued a rare second chance in life to rebuild myself in the image I had always dreamed of. I was fortunate when I found the right people, cis women, to help me along in ways they never knew as I filled out the little nuances of my gender workbook. As I always say, I had no idea of how many layers women have to go through other than men just to live their life.

I don’t think I had a choice in my life to not live the pressurized existence that I lived. It was all built into the path I chose to take, and I grew used to it. As a transgender woman, often it seemed I had more than my fair share of pressure to deal with. That is why as a tribe, trans women and trans men have proved to be very resilient over the time we have populated the world. Regardless of what haters and bigots think.

 

 

My Last Date as a Man

 

JJ Hart in the long black wig
I wore to the concert. 

My last date as a man was very eventful as destiny was sending me a powerful message.

It all began a couple of years after my second wife passed away and I decided to again seek out feminine companionship from a ciswoman. Then I made a mistake and became enamored with the mom of one of my servers at the restaurant I owned. Mom was about my age and extremely attractive and I gathered up the courage to ask her out when I learned she was single. From there we went on several dates including one in her native Cincinnati. I was quite naïve and thought things were going fairly well until my daughter got me two tickets to a “Joe Cocker” concert at an outside summer festival near to where she lived in Dayton, Ohio.

I guess the idea of perhaps meeting my daughter scared her off, because after initially saying yes, a week before the concert she abruptly said no and I wasn’t to call her anymore. By this time in my life, I don’t think anything could surprise or hurt me more than what I was already going through, so I picked up the pieces of this brief ill-fated relationship and prepared myself to move on. But I had one problem, what was I going to do with the other ticket I had for the concert. Then my mind came up with a plan, why not invite my feminine self? It would be yet another test to see how successful my transition was coming along as well as soothing the ego wounds from being turned down by what turned out to be the last date I would ever have as a man with a ciswoman in my life.

At that point, I was very much still in the closet to my daughter, so I planned to pick up the tickets as my male self then go home later and get ready. Getting ready proved to be an adventure as I knew I could put together an upscale/casual outfit for the evening. I ended up choosing a black outfit with a three-quarter sleeve mesh top and wide legged silky black pants with black sandals. Topping it all off, I chose my long black straight-haired wig and sunglasses on my head as an accessory. After carefully applying my makeup, I was ready to take on the world as a transgender woman out to her first concert. I felt good and confident for a change as I left the house for the half hour drive to the concert venue.

Once I arrived, I gathered myself, checked my makeup and took off walking to the concert which was filling up with people fast. Since it was still light outside, I could wear my sunglasses to check out anyone who was staring at me without them knowing. I was relieved when no one noticed the tall, long-haired woman in black making her way through the crowded sidewalk to her seat. I even had enough time to walk up to the concession stand and order me a refreshing drink before the late “Joe Cocker” started his show. By this time in his career, he played his hits and I was happy.

I ended up immensely enjoying the concert. Even more so since I was spending unique public time with my transfeminine self. I walked away from the experience with a new-found confidence in myself to live my life the way I had always dreamed of. In a world where ciswomen ruled. And maybe most importantly, I don’t think I embarrassed myself by the way I looked.

Maybe I was a little too over dramatic when I mentioned destiny setting in that night, but it did because never again did I set out to date a ciswoman as my male self and go through all the dating contortions I hated so much. I don’t know why but I always had felt so much more at ease when I was dealing with women as a trans woman and I never looked back.

My last date as a man was uneventful because it never happened it seemed for a reason. In the future I was able to have much better times going to places such as roller derbies with my lesbian friends where I could relax and have fun. Something I rarely did when I was trying to date as a man.

 

 

No Laughing Matter

 

Image from Priscilla Du Preeze
on UnSplash. 

I am always amused when someone thinks I had a choice to follow my transgender path. Obviously, they were not there for all the trials and tribulations I had and the extreme harassment I received as I came out into the world. All the times I hurried home crying when I was stared at or glared at by the public before I was able to improve my feminine presentation to the point where I could blend in.

I did all I could to improve my testosterone damaged body by going on a crash diet and did my best to improve my skin by using moisturizers everyday after I shaved before I went to work. Why would I attempt all of that if I thought crossing the gender border was just a choice I could make. The farther I went, the more I had to do to improve. Mainly because it felt like it was the right thing to do.

Perhaps the most important sacrifice I needed to be prepared to make was losing my white male entitlements or male privileges. Even though I did not respect the growing rights that I had obtained through hard work as a male, I needed to keep in mind continually I did not really want them anyhow and there were better days ahead if I ever had achieved my dream of living as a transgender woman fulltime.

Through it all though, I wondered why all this gender turmoil was happening to me. Often when the poor, poor pitiful me aspect of my life was at it’s worse, I would “man-up” and purge myself of most of my feminine belongings. As most of us know, purging does not work for any length of time. All it did for me was make me go out and buy more makeup, clothes and shoes to express my femininity again. A total waste of money, but at least I always tried to build back better following every purge I tried. Finally, I looked back at purging as just another rite of passage I needed to through as I followed along my gender path to success, and I was able to put my transgender victim mentality behind me.

As I grew older and set in my cross-dressing ways, I knew increasingly I had no choice in how I lived my life. I was rapidly going through yet another gender transition from just having a so-called hobby into being a transgender woman. I was doing more than just shopping for more and more clothes and was trying out new ways to experience the world the way ciswomen do. I started doing a portion of the grocery shopping successfully as the new transfeminine me all the way to starting to do all my Christmas shopping in unique situations also. Just to see if I could.

At that point, the things I needed to go through to survive in life became increasingly evident to me. I would need to express myself as a woman and I had no choice but to do it. I also knew the risk I was taking when I thought about losing the male life, I had worked so hard and long to be successful at. What would my daughter think of her new dad was one of the few variables as I knew I would lose my long-term marriage and great job that I had. I needed to know beyond a shadow of a doubt I was doing the right thing, and I truly had no choice but to stay on the course I was on. This is where my transgender humor comes in. Why would anyone ever put themselves through such a life full of turmoil if they ever had a choice. Or, when just putting on a dress becomes so much more than a fun experience, where do you go then?

It is no secret where I went and I had the chance to experience so much more in my life because it is exceedingly rare when a human gets the chance to experience both sides of the binary gender spectrum. The problem is we transgender women and transgender men don’t have a chance to enjoy the trip because of the pressure we put on ourselves to perform behind the gender curtain we chose. If we are not doing it to ourselves, the pressure is certainly on from the public to do it too. Especially these days with the charged anti-transgender political attitude we are seeing from the orange menace in Washington DC, and in many states such as my own native Ohio.

If we can ever get the public at large to understand we trans people never had a choice on the life’s direction we ultimately took, we would come out so much further ahead. Sadly, the path to get there does not seem to be getting any closer for many of us as the things we have to go through just keep on coming. I know for those of you who are still on your transition path or even consider it, it is a major step to take. Hopefully on the way, you can take the time to stop for a moment and enjoy how far you have come. I always thought if it does not kill me, it will just make me stronger would help me along. And on a lesser scale, the old sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me saying really applied to me also.

When you are on your path long enough to realize there is no turning back, you will also know you had no choice but to keep going towards your goal. It was never easy, but so worthwhile as you navigated the final blind curves, potholes and stop signs. At the least, you will know you lived a life where you had a choice and made the most of it.

Plus, certainly it was no laughing matter. 

As always, thank you for reading along with my experiences. Any comments, extra claps or subscriptions are welcome!

 

 

 

 

Letting Things Happen versus Making things Happen as a Trans Woman

Image from Mahdi Chaghari
on UnSplash.

Perhaps you have heard a football coach talk about slowing the game down and simplifying it for his players. Of course, I had to equate it with being a transgender woman or trans man when I heard it.

I began to think of all the stressful days I spent in front of the mirror as my perception of a pretty girl, then taking my image public and into the world. For years it never occurred to me that I was trying too hard. I was attempting to micro-manage myself to ensure every little aspect of my feminine image was correct. Here is an example of what I was doing wrong. On any given day, my makeup and fashion were on point, and I was confident about my presentation. Then as I was out trying it all in the public’s eye, I would either catch myself walking hunched over like a linebacker or worse yet, trip over my own heels and almost fall. It took me quite a while to realize what I was doing wrong and try to change it.

For me, relaxation and confidence were the key to real gender change. I was letting it happen rather than making it happen. I discovered it was so much more pleasurable for me when it happened that way. After that I could take my game to a different level such as communicating one on one with the world for once as my authentic feminine self. A key point I had to do if I was ever going to make it to my dream of a male to female femininization project.

I also established bucket lists of things I wanted to do as a transgender woman and was able to accomplish most of them except a couple of ill-thought-out visits to women’s rooms when I had the police called on me. Letting it happen surely did not work for me then, but I recovered and gained my restroom privileges in other venues I went to. Fortunately, the police had better things to do than mess with me and I went on my way without further problems. That was years ago and I haven't had any problems since. That was a good thing because the restroom privilege was something that I needed more than wanted.

I cannot stress enough about how much I had to learn during this period of my life when I was making a serious push towards transitioning from a serious cross dresser all the way to a transgender woman. When in reality, it was mostly a mental transition, it was still a very important one to make. I have a difficult time explaining it but all of a sudden, something clicked in my mind, and I knew another change was needed. I was so more than a man wanting to look like a woman.  I wanted to be a woman and feel like one as close as I could. That was when I successfully set out to socialize with cisgender women just to see if I could. I conquered my fear and found out I could add another layer of just letting it happen versus making it happen.

By this time, my muscle memory had improved so much as a trans woman that it became natural to me. So much so in fact that I had to be careful I was not too effeminate when it came to me working my male job and living with my wife. It finally became too much for me to juggle, and I needed to put it down before it was too late and I became more self-destructive than I already was. What I did was, attempt to do more things as a transfeminine person and do as less as humanly possible as my male self. It is one of the reasons I took so long to transition, because of the need to work around a disapproving wife and male self which was desperately hanging on.

You regulars know this part of my story when my wife tragically passed away. Which left only my weakened male self to resist any efforts at total domination from my inner female who had waited so long for her chance to live and write her own gender workbook. Little did I know she kept her own workbook up to date and was ready to go. If and when she had a chance to use it. Perhaps, your inner female is keeping a gender workbook also and you will not have as far to go to catch up when you get the chance to live your life.

I discovered too that letting it happen versus making it happen was mostly common sense. Even though the two main binary genders do things differently, they often operate in parallel universes which are the same and seem to be doing more so in the younger generations. I first learned up close and personal during my first girl’s nights out I went to. I was worried about what I needed to do to be able to interact with the group but then found they had just flipped the script from jobs and sports to family and friends with the women. Quickly I relaxed and started to let my inner girl flow, and I was fine with most of all the other participants except for one who I perceived as being a miserable person anyway. Who was unlikeable to me, and I left her alone.

I chuckle to myself when I think of how my football coach’s words would come back to help me in such a different way later in life. I guess it proves that you just cannot count on anything staying the same when it comes to gender. Perhaps that is a clue why the population at large knows nothing about us and we live parallel lives from both of them. Whatever it is, if you are in your path of gender discovery, you will certainly feel the change from making it happen to letting it happen.

 

                                                                                                                                          . 

Gender is a Basic Human Instinct

 

JJ Hart, Birthday Dinner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

She is With Me

 

Image from UnSplash.

It took me far too long to decide who was with whom in my life.

For the longest time, I thought I was a man cross dressing as a woman, but the opposite was true, I was a woman cross dressing as a man, and for the most part failing at accepting all my efforts. Through it all, my female side was pressing ahead for dominance in my life. It was difficult because my male self was so situated in the life he had created, he did not want to give any of it up. After all, white male privilege was so difficult for me to establish, then give up. He certainly was not giving up without a protest. 

To make matters worse, I was always painfully shy around girls and women, so my workbook on women was pretty much blank when I needed it. Many times, it seemed I was flailing in the dark when I first attempted to open my gender closet door and sneak out. What I began to do, very slowly, was piece together a set of positive public experiences I was putting together from my new life as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. Once I did, I was increasingly proud to say, she is with me. 

Little did I know, at that point I would have to take my new femininized life one step at a time. Naturally, my earliest steps were scary. Except the ones when I went to local regional mixers in Columbus, Ohio at a transexual friend's house. There I learned a few of the different layers of transition I could expect to follow. If I decided to follow the path some of the attendees were on. The research was important because my whole life was in the balance. I had a wife, family and a great job to worry about. Plus, I met all sorts of new and different people under the LGBTQ spectrum, from lesbians to cross dresser admirers, I saw it all.

The whole process made a huge difference in my life. Finally, my old male self was seeing the end of his dominance in my life and regardless of the warnings he gave me that I was going to lose it all. Even though I was having the time of my life, I was still scared of the ultimate outcome, or how I wanted to live for the rest of my life. I was in much deeper than ever before and deep down I knew just throwing on a dress and wig was not ever going to be enough. I kept going back to to my formative cross-dressing years when I realized I wanted to do more than wanting to look like a girl, I wanted to be a girl. It was to start me on a lifetime of learning what transgender womanhood was all about.

The journey was a long one for me as it started with no external gender information available to me in the dark information days before the internet. It continued with meeting and learning from all sorts of women from very supportive lesbians to unsupportive cisgender women. The message began to come through loud and clear; she is with me and had always been so.

Real Life Impostors

JJ Hart at Key Largo.

 At various times in my life, I have suffered from impostor's syndrome when I was out with other women celebrating a girl's night out.

While I was overjoyed to be invited to the events and considered them to be a rite of passage to my transgender womanhood, I still could not shake my underlying feelings of doubt when I was allowed behind the gender curtain. 

As I went through the process, I began to wonder if all human beings go through a form of impostor syndrome in their lives. What I am trying to say is no woman is born a woman. They are socialized through life to achieve the status of women since they were born female. Men also go through the same process. It's the primary reason I had such a difficult time leaving my male past behind because in many ways I had made it to manhood which was miles away from just being another male. I needed to start all over again to travel to my gender goal of transgender womanhood. 

In the meantime, my confidence was building that I had as much right as the next woman to be at special functions. I had just arrived at the same point the other women did by using another path. I was aided also when I calmed down and began to contribute more to the group. I found I had more in common than I thought in this women's only space. Even though, I most certainly did not birth a child, I could bring up my own daughter and grandkids who I was so proud of. I just needed to flip the gender script to relieve myself of any possible impostor syndrome feelings. 

It wasn't just at the girl's nights out when being a gender impostor took a hold of me. Another prime example were the nights when I felt I was doing everything right. My fashion, hair and makeup all were on point and yet there I was wondering what I was doing there at all. I was devastated when I had come so far in my feminine presentation, just to have something else stand in my way. It took me awhile, but I worked my way through it all and put impostor syndrome in my rear-view mirror.

On the increasingly rare occasions when I encountered any resistance from the public, I finally came to the conclusion they were the true gender impostors. It was very clear to me why men left me alone as they were so insecure in their own sexuality. On the other hand, most cisgender women were more secure and not afraid to reach out to me. Especially interesting to me was the interaction I had with the lesbian community. Most of the lesbians I had a positive experience with had past encounters with men, so I was not so far from a person they would consider knowing. I learned quite early in my experiences in public, the various levels of the lesbian society. In fact, my first date with a man was with a very masculine lesbian on his way to becoming a full-fledged transgender man. Many times, the more masculine the lesbian, the more interest they showed in me. They were certainly not gender impostors.

Real life gender impostors are everywhere in this increasingly hostile world. We don't need insecure people in power using transgender women and trans men as crutches to increase their own power. 

Mountain of Hope...Mound of Ash

 

Image from JJ Hart

On occasion when I was following my very long path to transgender womanhood, I did experience enough hope to keep moving forward towards my ultimate goal of living a fulltime feminine life. 

Those were the days I was on top of the world and felt good about my life as a whole. Sadly, too many times my dreams were crushed mainly with me making poor gender decisions. Those were the nights I returned home with tears in my eyes following brutal interactions with the public. I was at the least stared at and at the worst laughed at to my face. Since I had only the mirror to blame for lying to me, I needed to find a better way to improve my presentation as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. 

Really, the only recourse I had was to keep going out hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Very gradually, out of sheer will power, I did become better at my craft and my confidence grew. I was climbing my mountain of hope and staying there. Sadly, my only mound of ash came when I was discovered by my second wife when I was returning home after a night out. Predictably a massive fight would happen, and feelings would be hurt. It wasn't until years later when I finally had the courage to face my gender truth and finally transition. By that time my wife had passed away and it was a moot point. Following her passing, I found I had another mountain to climb. 

My mountain was one of loneliness. For the first time in over twenty-five years, I was by myself with only my two dogs to take care of. No other person to worry about disappointing with all of my gender adventures. It did not take me long to decide which direction to go with my life. My inner feminine soul was screaming to be let out and for once there was nothing to restrain her. She was my woman, and I was her.  With new enthusiasm, I began to climb again. Sure, there were still setbacks and problems with my new life. A primary example was when I tried to date men and was constantly stood up on potential dates. Fortunately, when I began to be accepted by lesbians, I found I did not need a man to be validated as a woman. 

When I climbed my gender mountain, I began to begin too clearly see what was going on around me. As all the clouds and doubt parted and I could see there was only one path for me to pursue. I finally gave up on my male self, gave away all his clothes, started gender affirming hormones and never looked back. 

When I finally freed myself up to be me, I never had felt better. It was a huge weight lifted off my shoulders which I had carried way too long. Since I am afraid of heights, climbing my gender mountain was never easy but I made it. 

Take Your Pleasure Seriously

 

Ohio River image from the
Jessie Hart archives. 

For a gender dysphoric person, the scale seems to be balanced against experiencing any gender euphoria.

 In my case, destiny allowed just enough gender euphoria for me to continue down my gender journey. As I questioned what I was doing, the "why" of it never really came into question. I just knew deep down I was on a process I could not control. It would control me. Deep down inside, regardless of any doubts I may have had dissolved when I felt so natural when I was dressed as a girl. In other words, I was home when I was away from my unwanted heavy male self. 

Still I persisted and tried to find my way in the male universe, I was taking my pleasure seriously when I was dressed head to toe as a woman. I found following one dream (feminine) didn't mean giving up on the other (masculine.) I often wonder, if there was any help available to me back in the pre-internet dark ages would I have had the courage to seek it out. One problem was back in those days we who existed with gender issues were still considered to be mentally ill. Which I knew I wasn't.

The gender unrest I lived through and with was to continue until much later in life. Nearly a half a century to be exact, I gave up any hope of ever returning to a male life and never looked back. Riding a wave of gender euphoria was something I had never experienced before. Living as my authentic self was amazing and even though my male self was still fighting to be recognized. He was to be denied and my life went full circle back to the earliest days of wondering what gender I really was.

By going full circle, I had a lot of ground to cover. In many ways, the world caught up with me. I was able to follow the progression of a term which would describe me and in a very small way enabled me to be a part of a transgender community. Along the way many things changed. Primarily in the terminology which began with what was transgender anyhow and went all the way to the LGBT label which has grown these days to include other letters which includes other communities. Including gender fluid people which on occasion, described how I perceived myself all those years ago. 

During my full circle journey, I learned to take my pleasure seriously. Different than most transgender women and one I don't necessarily recommend, I learned the so called "ropes" of being a single woman (trans or not) in alcohol serving venues. All of the sudden, I found myself in situations where I was the single woman. The positive side of taking my pleasure seriously was when I discovered a small community I could thrive in. The negative side came when I was approached by intoxicated men not in control of themselves. Early on, when I needed some sort of protection, I used my cell phone. Making a big show of acting as if I was talking to another person on the phone who was coming to join me and fill the empty seat beside me. Of course after I gained my small group of lesbian friends, I was nearly completely insulated from the world of men. Also my ideas of sexuality were determined for good. I had way more interaction with women than I ever had as a guy.

Along the way, my new found gender euphoria as I learned to live as a transgender woman began to put my unwanted male life behind me, I had managed to live through the down points in my life and come full circle into a new day. I don't know if the ups have ever equaled the downs but at the least I was never bored.