Trans Displacement or an Impostor?

Image from Tengyart
on UnSplash.

Sometimes, even when I am successful living the life of a transgender woman in a space I had always could ever dream of, I wonder if I am merely an impostor.

Am I taking the place of another cis-woman who could be living in my place? And did I deserve to be there. Then, I come to my senses and think no, all of that is crazy. Instead of taking another woman's place, I was replacing a man who did not approve of his lifestyle at all and wanted to change it. The only displacing I was doing came at the expense of myself.

I certainly paid my dues learning what I needed to do to complete the process. My life was made up of too many blind corners to count. Once I conquered one blind corner, seemingly another would magically appear. Many, I had no idea of what I needed to face to move forward. When I did become relatively successful in my quest to change my gender, perhaps the cruelest joke at all came along. It happened when I began to suffer what is called "impostor syndrome" or ending up in the middle of a girls night out party feeling as if I was out of place. Finally, I overcame my reservations and was able to enjoy myself. I deserved to be there as much as the next woman and I was not displacing anyone. 

Sadly, there were more blind corners than I can remember but I managed to keep my life together and proceed as fast as I could. I still had too many self destructive moments. Mostly, when I did all I could to try to out myself and ruin all I knew of my male life. I drove too fast and drank way too much and even went into the restaurant I managed cross dressed because I thought I could get away with it. Long story short, I didn't and I put my very good employment in jeopardy. I wasn't satisfied going to the established venues I was going to out of town and wanted more and more. All along, I was doing more and more and didn't realize it. I needed to learn all the nuances of being a successful transgender woman in the world but wasn't patient enough to do it. Mainly, my communication skills in all the various worldly situations I could put myself in needed improvement. 

It was frustrating when I thought life was good and the idea of me being a gender impostor snuck in. Why was I out in the world trying to be a woman in a space inhabited by cis women. Many of whom did not appreciate my being in their world. I developed a thick skin over time and finally decided the women who did not like me for no apparent reason (other than the obvious) had problems of their own which did not include me. Once I developed my thick shell, my confidence as a transgender woman increased and life was better.

After a lifetime of experience, I made it out of my own head and into the world. When I did, I was able to put any ideas of trans displacement behind me. In no way was I an impostor and I had earned my position as a woman as much as any other cis-woman. Females aren't women at birth and they are socialized into the experience the same as I was. I just happened to take another path. One of which often gave me more insight into life because I lived a life on both sides of the gender border. I even found myself giving advice to other women on how to communicate better with their men. I was flattered and any idea of me being a gender impostor began to disappear. 

At the same time, I finally stopped encountering any idea of displacement and went on living my dream life I never thought I would ever get to. It was always my impossible dream to live as a woman (trans or not) and I began to ignore the naysayers. Life became more livable and pleasurable and all imposters turned out to be other women in my world.

Gender Euphoria

 Sadly, I don't have the occasion to write about "gender euphoria" very often. Most of the time I am dealing with the opposite...gender dysphoria. The dysphoria runs deep with me and has been around in my noggin since early childhood. During that time I learned the hard way not to trust the mirror. In other words the mirror was telling me I was a convincing feminine person when in fact the public was telling me something quite different. Every time I was able to build up a little confidence in myself, it would all come crashing down in an instant for whatever negative reason.

Now, since the threat of Covid has declined and Liz and I are able to barely afford to go out and eat, I have had to step up my feminine game again. So to speak. 

Friday I had the chance when quite unexpectedly Liz asked me If I wanted to go out and eat at a nearby Mexican restaurant where we could eat good food and enjoy a margarita. Most certainly I said yes and immediately started planning what I was going to wear. I ended up choosing an over the hip rather form fitting soft sweater and decided upon my dark blue leggings and boots since the weather hadn't changed for the better yet. 

For once I went overboard and added a pair of dangling earrings with a matching crystal pendent necklace I bought last summer. I pulled my hair back, put on eye makeup with a little lipstick and was ready to go. 

I was really ready to go and I thought I looked kind of nice. As "they" say, confidence is a woman's best accessory. I needed it. When we arrived at the venue, it was packed with all types of couples and families. We waited approximately fifteen minutes to be seated  and waited for our margaritas. Of course we were seated clear across the restaurant from the hostess stand so I had to walk through the entire place seemingly with every eye upon me.

Photo Credit:
J.J Hart

My confidence kicked in though and I did my best to stand up tall and do my version of a feminine "glide". It all must have worked because as far as I could tell, outside of a few glances from male customers all went well. Even to the point of our male server calling us "ladies" everytime he checked back on our order.

Through it all and afterwards, I tried to explain to Liz how good it felt to be accepted as my authentic feminine self . Of course before I could celebrate my victory we had to pay and walk the same route out of the place. It was still completely full and I had to try out my appearance on another set of people. Again I was a success, no one so much as glanced and when they did, they quickly looked away when I glanced back at their direction.

I believe much of the male attention I received always comes from the fact of my size. Even with my diet I am what Connie was called, "A monumental woman." There is nothing I can do about it so I just need to accept it and move on. 

Days later, the euphoria of reaching a goal I have dreamed of for so many years still is with me. Maybe this time I won't have to wait so long to reinforce my euphoria before the mirror comes along and says it's just the same old you again. But through diet and skin care, the mirror is wrong. My face has slimmed out and of course HRT has smoothed my skin and somehow rounded the contours of my face. I certainly am not the same old me. The mirror and the rest of me needs to get used to it!