The Second Act

 

JJ Hart doing Trans Wellness Outreach. 

Will the second act of life be better and more successful than the first? How many people even get a second chance?

That is the question I needed to answer when I finally shed my male life and entered a transfeminine existence. Since I did it at the age of sixty, I have had plenty of ground to catch up with. Many times, it seemed I never would. My internal gender clock was moving one step forward and two steps back as I attempted to transition. I had times when the picture was clear in my mind, and I was able to put it into motion. Such as the night I took myself out to see a major Christmas light display in a nearby village and was warmly accepted in my soft bulky sweater, leggings and boots. Then, as I rode the wave of gender dysphoria, I would do something wrong such as how I was moving. I am fond of saying, I looked like a linebacker in drag.

The problem was, if I relaxed at all going into the second act of my life, I had the tendency to fall back into old habits. I was learning the hard way over and over, to take nothing for granted in my new life. Many times, I tried and failed not to be too hard on myself since I was making up for a first act in my life which lasted so long, and I had to concentrate so much on it just to survive. It was around this time when my male self really began to set up roadblocks on my gender path. Suddenly, he began to see that this road I was on was not a phase or joke and I was deadly serious.  He started to ask questions such as how I was going to live in my second act with no job and how I was prepared to do it without the wife I dearly loved and had been married to for nearly twenty-five years. To be sure, all very real and very scary questions.

I put off deciding my life as long as I could as I attempted to learn if I could really live a transfeminine life at all. Were the obstacles insurmountable or not. Through it all, the one overriding feeling which kept me searching was the deep down feeling I was doing the right thing. I was headed in the direction I should have been going in my life all along and I kept going through the ups and downs of transitioning into my second act.

Once it was clear I was successfully transitioning into my second act, I needed to make sure I was doing it correctly. It turned out I had all the help I needed. In addition to the cisgender women I always mention, there was one important person I don’t mention enough. That person turned out to be very real and important to me. She was my inner feminine person who had been waiting for all those years and decades for her chance to fully come out into the world. Once she finally did, she knew completely what to do and what was ahead for my second act of my life. Mainly, all the nuances of life as a woman if I really wanted to go there. She knew the best part of my life was yet to come.

More importantly, I had finally made it through the bleak years when often I thought there would be no tomorrow. Or at least my dream of living a feminine life would never be realized. Often it set off a series of insecurities in myself which set back my life. Act one was bleeding because I could not get to act two.

When I finally made it to my second act, it was as if I had lifted a heavy weight off my shoulders, and I came to a point where I needed to be more understanding and approachable in the world. I could not get away with the old male ways of internalizing my feelings and start living again. If I did try to hide as a transgender woman, I would never have a chance to provide myself with a positive outlook to other women and not come off as an unfriendly transfeminine woman which was the last thing I wanted or was.

Since I was one of the few humans who ever had the chance to stop their life and begin again so there was no way I could mess it up. I needed to enjoy life and live it the best I could.  

The Biggest Lie

 

Image from Dave Goudreau 
on UnSplash.

Sadly, the biggest lie I’ve ever told in my life regarded my biggest truth.

The lie of course, regarded my gender identity. For simplistic reasons I could say the problem I faced early in life was having a complete lack of information to lean on. It was back before the internet information years, and I thought I was the only boy in the world who wanted to be a girl part of the time.

To compensate for my cross-dressing activities, I was prepared to lie my way through it. If I was ever caught red handed because of leaving lipstick on my fingers. Due to whatever circumstances which were beyond my control and very lucky, I was never caught by my family. Although I always have wondered if my mom somehow knew but hoped my fascination with her clothes was just a phase I would grow out of. The best part was, I never was caught or questioned so I did not have to lie my way out of an ill-advised trip to a psychiatrist. Back in those days, being a transvestite (the term which was used) was a mental illness problem. Not something I wanted to face. So, I hid in fear.

As I weighed the two alternatives, fear or lying, I chose to internalize the fear I was feeling every time I put on feminine clothes. Once again, I was able to put off lying to the one biggest person in my life…myself.

All was well until I was discharged from the Army and returned to civilian life. Once I did, I began to pick up where I had left off with my gender issues. I even went as far as almost telling my first wife who was also in the Army and was being discharged several months after I was, to expect a totally different me when we met again. I was totally thinking of meeting her as my transfeminine self. As much as I secretly wanted to, deep down I knew I was not ready for such a big move, so I hid my feelings again and lied my life away, for a while.

You know what they say about lies, the more you lie, the more you have to. Just to stay above water. Before long, I was drowning in my own personal lie, until I met my second wife. She was much stronger than my first wife who never said anything negative to me at all considering my gender issues. I often thought wife number one would not protest at all if I told her I was leaving for a period of time for sex realignment surgery. She was just too easy, and I divorced her to be with my second wife who also knew of my cross dressing. Which started out good but deteriorated

I say deteriorated because my second wife did all she could to support my growing gender issues until I had outgrown both of us. All of the times she encouraged me to go ahead and rent a motel room and spend the day out as a woman taught me valuable lessons. First and foremost, I could make it in the world as my feminine self after all. Then, the big lies started as I began to go out on my own when my wife was at work, from the house. Which was something I told her I would never do. By doing so, I began to live the biggest lie of all, as I was increasingly aggressive in my attempts to do more and more in the world away from my masculine self.

Naturally, the tailspin I put our marriage into put a strain on both of us. Especially when she caught me going out. When she did, a massive fight would break out for days until somehow an uneasy truce would be called. At times, things would be so bad, my wife told me just be man enough to be a woman. The problem was, I was still lying to myself thinking I could keep my married life balanced with my transfeminine one. I just was not that good a juggler to do it. Again, mainly because I could not face my truth.

Sadly, my second wife passed away before I faced my truth. Being the wise one in the relationship, she knew me better than I knew myself. Pushing me to pay attention to what it really meant to be a woman.

Now I just wish I did listen to her and went ahead and transitioned. Sure, it would have been difficult but living the life we lived was difficult too and I could have started living with a clear conscience. Being the stubborn person that I was, I kept on living a lie until I could take it no longer and finally made the move into a life I could enjoy as a fulltime transgender woman.

By the time I transitioned most of the important friends I had known (including my wife) had passed away. Leaving me alone in the world to carve out a new life in my sixties. It would have been very difficult, but I wish I had listened to my wife and been man enough to be a woman sooner.

 

 

Riding the Gender Merry go Round

 

Image from Stanley Kustamen 
on UnSplash. 

Catching the gender merry go round when it was in mid-spin was never easy. As I always point out, I had no workbook on how to achieve my feminine desires that were available to me.

I often wondered what magical experiences were available to the girls around me but were off limits to me. What did the girls really learn about being feminine from each other? Was makeup one of them? I was jealous because I had none of the early basics of applying makeup. The closest I came when I was painting the model cars I had. I never was very good at skillfully painting cars, so I wondered how I would ever be good at painting myself. Enamored, I remember watching my mom apply her makeup as I looked for any small hints I could follow but I never seemed to learn.

Of course, there was much more to jumping on a spinning merry go round than just skillfully applying makeup. There were clothes to worry about too, and how could I afford them on the very limited budget I was on. I resorted to taking any small jobs I could as a kid to augment the meager allowance I received at home. In fact, my major source of income was a neighborhood newspaper route I took on. When I added all my funds up, I usually had enough money to buy my own makeup, panty hose and other rare items such as a pair of shoes I was lucky to find.

Once I was able to be confident in my ability to jump on the merry go round, then I needed to worry about hanging on. In the early days of my public explorations, I was having a very difficult time presenting well at all and I often was laughed at by others on the merry go round until I began to learn what I was doing wrong, and I could fill out my feminizing presentation workbook. It was a win for me when I could quit using crayons on my face and use them to color my workbook, I was less and less a clown in drag, and more and more an androgynous person for the public to judge my gender. For once, I could rightfully claim my seat along others on the merry go round because I had earned my spot as much as they did.

After a while, the spinning became too much for me and challenged my fragile mental health. The biggest problem I had was my refusal to face myself and my innermost truth. I was never a man cross dressing as a woman; I was a woman cross dressing as a man my entire life. The basic thought of who I really was consumed all my spare thinking. I am amazed now how much I still accomplished in my life as I suffered my mental duress. At times, it seemed my merry go round was spinning completely out of control. Plus, at the same time, I kept accumulating extra male lifetime baggage I did not really want. Sadly, the life I was living kept me from making very many close friends because I just thought I was knowing them under some sort of false pretense. I wasn’t the man they saw before them; I was a fake. Which I hated and added to my problems.

I finally came to the point where I needed to either slow down my merry go round or get off altogether. I just couldn't take it any longer. I certainly was not getting any prizes for putting myself through the anguish of staying on. I had given my ride the best shot I could, and I needed to grow in my transgender womanhood. I had tried my best to outrun and out drink my gender issues, and it was time to face the reality of who I was.

When my merry go round glided to a stop and I was able to look ahead to the new life I was about to enter. I was excited to see and live my feminine reality. I had filled out my workbook and paid my dues and was ready to go. The next time I was at an amusement park I could really enjoy the experience as a transgender woman. If anyone in the world did not like it or approve of me, I didn’t care. I had spent a major portion of my life thinking I was in the wrong. When in fact, the bigots were the ones in the wrong and they were the riders who needed to get off the merry go round first.

Climbing Walls

JJ Hart

 When I transitioned from male to the feminine person I was all along, I hit many walls.

As it turned out, some were short walls and easy to climb, and some were almost insurmountable. The problem quickly became which were which. Very early on, when life was simpler, the act of applying eye makeup initially presented itself as a major hurdle, or wall. Once I conquered that challenge, I was able to move on to bigger and better things. Little did I know, I would be facing bigger walls to climb. A few were so tall I could barely see my dream of living fulltime as a transgender woman at all.

Leaving my safe yet dark gender closet and trying my hand at living as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman in public suddenly presented me with many new walls to climb. Iniitally, there was the omnipresent pressure of presenting properly in public as a woman. To do it, I needed to overcome how my old male self-thought I should look and change it to how my femininized self knew how I had to look to blend in with her cisgender counter parts. Plus, I needed to do it on a regular basis as people were starting to remember me. There were no more changing names to fit a new wig I was wearing. At least I needed to understand that even though strangers knew I was not a cisgender woman, I needed to prove I was a person who was nice to know and got along in the world. Most of all, I was not some sort of a freak, and I needed to remember in the overwhelming number of cases, I was the first and only transgender woman the public had ever met.

The frustrating part of this time of my life came when I was taking a step forward towards climbing another wall, then slid back down when I hit it. I was rapidly losing all the press on nails I bought as I was trying to climb. I seemingly always had problems with moving like a woman. No matter how much I tried, I still ended up moving like a stiff football player in public when I walked into a venue. I worked long and hard to correct the problem and finally succeeded to an extent. Putting femininized self into motion was a problem so large, it was only topped by the communication problems I was having dealing with the public. Basically, I was scared to death of talking to anyone. It was particularly frustrating when I began to talk to other women, who I very much wanted to be friendly with.

On the other hand, men were not a problem at all, since for the most part, they left me alone. The problem was partially solved when I took feminine vocal lessons and the rest with pure practice. Finally, before I came off being unfriendly with other women, I just gave up, relaxed and did the best I could to enjoy and learn from the conversations I was having.

Before I knew it, the walls were coming down and I was gaining the all-important confidence I needed to reach my lifetime dreams of being a woman on my own terms. My terms became rather obvious over time. No major gender surgeries which I thought were too expensive and risky for a person my age of sixty. I would just have to take all my learned experiences out of the closet, put them together and do the best I could.

Another of one of my remaining tallest walls was doing more for my inner self. I solved it by becoming eligible for gender affirming hormones. My initial thought was the changes I would experience would be external, not internal. It turned out, the internal changes were more immediate and far reaching than the external changes. In fact, I can and should write an entire blog post about my changes on HRT. Briefly, I entered an entirely, the new, softer world. Suddenly, I could cry, and my senses improved. Perhaps the biggest one was I was more susceptible to changes in temperature. I learned all those years of thinking women were faking it when they were cold was true. When I was reaching for my coat on a chilly evening.

Certainly, HRT helped to tear down most of the final walls in my gender journey. I say most because I do not think all my walls will ever be totally gone. After all, I have lived most of my life as a man with all the resultant experiences and privilege. No matter what I do what is left of him will still be with me. His former life will always be with me. I just need to learn from him and conquer all the walls he put up in protest.

Pride Month

 

Image from William
Fonteneau on
UnSplash. 

These days, specifically, Pride Month means many different things to many different people.

Of course, the deluge of bigotry set off by the orange Taco felon in chief, has emboldened gender bigots everywhere to come out from under their rocks and attack the LGBTQ community as a whole and the transgender community specifically. If you are still in your closet, the bigotry probably has given you pause to consider where to go next with your gender transition, and should you attend a local Pride celebration at all.

Years ago, when I first began to check out Prides on my own, I was not happy with the number of drag queens I saw who ended up representing the transgender community if they were trying to or not. Then there were the cross dressers teetering around on their painful high heels, just to experience a day out. Overall, I saw precious few transgender women like me.

Fortunately, as the years flew by, my views on Pride began to change too. I began to see more and more trans women in the crowd. All the way to the parade marshal’s being transgender also. To me, it finally meant, we as a group were finally claiming our rightful spot under the LGBTQ umbrella, rather than always being left out in the rain. I finally reached a point where I could attend Pride and have a good time with my lesbian friends.

Bringing this all back into the present, it does not matter much what my prior Pride experiences were, it is how you feel about going today, or this month. Of course, there are safety concerns with so many crazies out and about in today’s world. Sadly, it only takes one to ruin it for the rest of us. Also, my mobility issues have severely limited my ability to go at all. So, I cannot go and be seen without lots of pain. I feel too, I did my part earlier in life so others can today.

It could be a decision to attend Pride these days is as personal as it has ever had been. Around here (Cincinnati), there are Prides every weekend. From very big to very small. All give the LGBTQ community a chance to be themselves and mingle with other like-minded individuals. Through rain and shine, I cannot remember never having a great time. From doing table work with the transgender-cross dresser support group I was a part of to going on gay bar pub crawls with Liz on a bus, we tried to do it all. Then there was the time my lesbian friends and I all got together and made the trip to Columbus, Ohio from Dayton to go the biggest Pride in Ohio. Great times were had by all, and I gained confidence as a transgender woman by trying it.

It should be noted, I did not do all this suddenly, and I needed to work my way up to the fun over the years. It is easy to say, but if I did not look out of my closet door and wonder what it would be like to go to a Pride, and try, I would have missed a big piece of my life as I transitioned into transgender womanhood. On the other hand, going to Pride has become an increasingly personal decision with the country where it is now. I know quite a few readers have expressed to me where they are in their transition and how attempting something like going to Pride would be a big risk. The fun part is, for once, you don’t have to worry about passing because people watching is one of the big sports at Pride. Just find a comfortable seat and enjoy the view.

Whatever decision you should decide to make, just make sure you are safe and comfortable in what you decide. Be prepared to collect loads of information from many LGBTQ friendly organizations. Some of which may help you in the future. In the past, at a Cincinnati Veterans Administration Pride (when they were allowed to have them) a man stopped at our table for information and later almost immediately started their transition. So, you never know.

The only other words of wisdom I have is, wear comfortable shoes! I did not for one year and paid the price. Regardless of the party atmosphere at many Prides, it is a solemn occasion when you consider the month was born out of Stonewall Bar protests in New York City. Basically, the drag queens revolted, and change began. It may take another revolt to do it again. In the meantime, enjoy your Pride month. Even if you are doing it in your closet.

 

 

Coming Home

 

JJ Hart (Center) Wife Liz on Left, 
Daughter on Right. 

The process of crossing the gender border from male to female, always felt as if I was coming home.

From the beginning, my dual genders clashed, causing me to often sacrifice my already fragile mental illness when I was diagnosed as being bi-polar. Naturally, it was difficult to separate one issue from another when I became depressed and just wanted to curl up in a ball and left alone. On most occasions, I could just cross dress in front of the mirror and take my mind temporarily off my trip to find my true home.

The trip proved to be much longer than I ever thought it would. I never considered it would take me on a fifty-year odyssey. Complete with too many blind curves and dead ends to mention. If I was to attempt to mention any of the major problems I had with my transition was there would be so many more transitions than one. The gender border crossing was so complex, it would take me several different ways at once. I finally came to the point where I was simply trying to raise the bar of living as a transgender woman every time I went out in public. In my earliest days, it meant concentrating on more than just my feminized appearance. I needed to put my appearance, no matter how good or bad, into motion. What good would it be to look like an attractive woman if I was moving like a linebacker.

Every time I made a move forward in my transition, I could imagine myself living my gender dream. Which in most cases scared me more than anything else. What would my life be like without all the male privilege I worked so hard to earn. Perhaps the only stable idea I learned was I was much more than the casual cross dresser who just wanted to put on a dress for certain occasions. As suspected from my earliest days of admiring myself in the mirror as a girl. I wanted to do much more such as be a girl or at the least find out if the public would accept me as one.

I put many hours of work into my femininized presentation. I tried and tried to get my makeup right, even to the point of losing nearly fifty pounds on a diet I undertook. When I lost weight, I was able to fit into my stylish clothes, so it was a huge win for me. Along with the intense skin care routine I followed. Suddenly, I discovered I could use less make up and prove less was more. All these moves proved coming home indeed may be reality if I kept working hard enough. For the first time in my life, I made a concerted effort to achieve a very real goal. My transgender womanhood.

As I said, coming home involved several other minor and major transitions. I began to do so called womanly duties such as grocery shopping into my days when I could. I also added gift shopping at Christmas (and other times) to my time as a woman. Through it all, I was learning how the world would possibly accept me when I was able to make it home. All these actions showed me the feasibility of proceeding with my gender plans, though many questions remained unanswered.  Such as, what would I do about the basics of my life such as what to do about my wife, extended family, friends and having a basic income to live on.

It was around this time when destiny set in to provide me with major answers in my life. Tragically my second wife passed away, at the age of fifty, along with most all of my very few male friends. As far as family was concerned, my daughter stepped up to be my most steadfast ally, until my third wife Liz stepped into my life. Finally, I learned if I waited a relatively short period of time, I could take an early retirement on Social Security and solve my financial issues. The only loss I sustained was with my brother and his extended family who roundly rejected me. So much for close family ties.

When I made it to my true home, it was like day and night. It was as if a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. My mental health improved with the help of therapy, and I was better able to face my life on a more equal basis than I ever had before. Surprisingly, I had very little re-arranging to do to live in my new house. It seemed my inner female self-had been not so patiently waiting for her chance to take over my life. Once she earned her spot in the public eye, she knew exactly what to do to survive.

 

 

The End Result?

 

Picnic time with my wife Liz on the right with
JJ Hart. 

Even though I write often about reaching my dreams of living as a transgender woman, sometimes I wonder if I had made it at all.

One of the problems I faced was thinking once I made it to my goal, there was always something else which was challenging me on my gender journey. When I was younger and so naive, I labored under the impression, looking like a woman should be my main goal. After I made it to the point where I could successfully blend in with the other women around me, I found there was so much more to do. I grew impatient with mediocrity and continually looked for more. There had to be so much more for me to discover around the next corner of my life. My prime example always was when going to the malls and clothing stores became too easy for me to do, I sought out other more difficult releases for my transgender challenges. I began to stop at restaurants to order lunch which forced me to interact one on one with employees. It all taught me the basics of communication with the public. 

I say the basics, because communication became the longest and most important part of transition which led to the end result of living my dream. How could I ever hope to live a fulfilling life as a transgender woman if I could not even talk to anyone else. I was also paranoid about anyone wanting to talk to me at all when I was out and about. First of all, I needed to relax and quit putting words in the mouth of the people I met and sit back and listen carefully what they were trying to say. For the first time in my life. The end result was I began to be able to interact with the over-whelming majority of the cisgender women who were curious about me. On the other hand, the majority of men I met wanted little to nothing to do with me, and vice versa. 

Once I arrived at a point when this transgender woman thought she had it all, something else would come along and proved me wrong. I learned the hard way; I needed to be careful where I went on my own as a woman in the world when my male security privilege was taken away. Navigation in a new world proved to be difficult for me. My theory of going out to be alone was at times dangerous as I actively sought out someone to be with. Overall, I was intensely lonely as a man and as a transgender woman. A complex difficulty to be sure in my life dealing with two genders. Primarily, I needed to choose what stayed and what went in my life. All I knew was, I was receiving more positive attention when I was out as a single transgender woman than when I was out as a single man. So, my choice became increasingly easier. 

The end result was, I made it to my goal of living as a fulltime transgender woman, I thought. Even though I was living my dream I never thought was possible, I found I had several other issues to conquer. All of a sudden, with all my male clothes gone and, in my past, I had to plan on what I was going to wear daily in the world. A big difference from the old days when I could look ahead a couple of days to my fashion choices. After several false starts, I made it to the world I always dreamed of, and none of it let me down.  Happiness was always fleeting in my life, but I finally found a slice of it. At times it was quite the adventure as I made my way from cross dresser to transgender woman. 

Even though my adventure had its ups and down to be sure but looking back there were more ups than downs as I made my way (or I should say, learned my way) to my ultimate end result.

The Forgotten Woman

Image from UnSplash.

 Over the years of gender infighting, I needed to carefully sustain my transgender womanhood because she often was the forgotten person.

To begin with, she began life as a second-class citizen in my world when I was born as a male in a male dominated family. Essentially, she had two walls to climb immediately to survive at all.   First of all, she did not have any on hands guidance from mom or girlfriends to show her the way through life and secondly, my male self was successful at all in the world, she was completely forgotten. The fragile complement between my genders had to be maintained at all times or she would disappear. Many times, I asked myself why I wanted her along to begin with, but the answer kept coming back, I needed her.

I discovered the hard way, the occasional trip to the hallway mirror dressed as a girl with full makeup, just was not going to cut it. I just needed more. If I could manage to look like a girl, why couldn't I be a girl, if only in my mind. The problem became, when I had to return to my male reality, I needed to forget my girl self altogether. Many days, it seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. when the only true punishment came at the expense of my already frail mental health. All too often, depression would set in when I forgot my feminine self and could not least appease her by cross dressing in the mirror. 

Another problem was, the more I appeased my forgotten woman, the more my male self-hated it. He fought hard when any portion of his life was threatened. He tried his best to make it easier in life by gaining white male privileges which were difficult to give up. I became successful as a male, but try as I might, I could not forget my inner woman. Who, at the time, was learning more and more how to establish herself in the world. Many times, my male self would win the battles in our life when along he was losing the war. A typical female move he was too blind to see as he blustered along in life. 

When my forgotten woman became less forgotten and more accomplished, my male self-started to panic as he could see the end in sight. Without being a winner. Basically, he teamed up with my second wife to attempt to save what they could of my life. At that point, decisions needed to be made in the worst way. My so-called forgotten woman had learned she could indeed live a life on her own terms. The ability to stand on her own two feet after all those years in a closet was so liberating, she knew she could never go back and, on the other hand, my guy knew deep down he was defeated. 

Living a transgender life she had always dreamed of was suddenly all that mattered. She dictated I start gender affirming hormones to feminize my body outside and inside and that was just the start to being accepted in the world. At that point my forgotten woman was not forgotten anymore, and she got her just due for all the years she waited for control. She loved every bit of it.

Reality

JJ Hart, middle, with Min and Kathy

 It took me years of denying my true gender identity to finally face the reality of who I was really was.

To do so, I needed to transition more than once to my surprise. I was naive and thought when I just put on a dress and makeup I was done transitioning. When in truth, I was only beginning my gender path. Deep down I knew there was something deeply wrong with how I viewed the world in all ways. Did I view it as male or a female. The only fact I did know was I was completely alone with my gender issues. There was no one else to talk to. 

Reality was a dark closet with no doors I could escape from. My only outlet was admiring my image in the family mirror growing up. I even went to the extent of taking on a rural newspaper route to add to my meager allowance to buy my own makeup and panty hose. By doing so, I could stay out of my mom's makeup and stop risking the possibility of snagging or running her hose. If you remember the panty hose which came in an plastic egg, I was a huge fan. The difference between just dressing in the clothes I found or bought was growing huge. No matter how much I cross dressed and admired myself in the mirror, the reality was, it was just never enough. Whatever I was doing, I could do it better. 

One of my biggest problems or dreams was to have my own glamorous wig. I grew up in the era of crew cuts or shorter hair for boys so there was nothing I could do to style what hair I had into anything resembling a feminine style. I was caught for many years, college in fact, before I could manage to sneak around and buy myself a wig I loved. It was long and blond, and I cherished it. I viewed the wig as one of the final pieces of my cross dressing puzzle. Maybe then, I could actually try to enter the world as who I was actually beginning to perceive as my authentic or true self. Little did I know, I was just spreading the seeds of my gender future.

The reality was, suddenly I was realizing I was following a life's path I wanted to be on. Each time I attempted to jump off of it, by purging all my feminine possessions. When I did, I could barely live with myself and could not wait to return to the protective confines of my transgender womanhood. Even though the path was bumpy and often threatening, the alternative of going back was even worse. The path allowed me to enter an oasis from life for me to judge where I was and where I wanted to go. As I always say, I was careful and took my time because I had so much to lose in my male life. I needed to make sure I was doing the right thing before I entered the world of women fulltime. 

Reality showed me the way; I finally put aside everything I had which screamed male and never looked back. As I said, the path I took was long and dark and I made my share of mistakes when I ran into the walls. The powder keg which was me needed to be de-fused so I could live a free life in a very pleasurable environment. I can't say the wait was worth it since I had no choice. I was stuck in a male world of my own making and did not have the courage to realize I had the power to break out and live my truth...or reality. 

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.

Transgender Dreams

 

Image from Alex Azabache 
on UnSplash.

My last question from my transgender grandchild for my yearlong book of questions I am putting together went something like this: If I had it all to do over again, what would I tell my twenty-year-old self about life.

First of all, before I answer, the questions come from a site called "Story Worth", and at the end of a year, they put all the weekly questions together to form a book on your life. It was a gift from my daughter. I am more than three-quarters through it already with a chance to add more questions for a small amount of extra money.

Now, back to my twenty-year-old self. First of all, at that time, I was consumed by two issues. Being drafted into the military along with a strong desire to be a woman. Conflicting problems to be certain which I was having a very difficult time dealing with. In the tried and true if I had known then what I know now, I would not have spent so much time worrying about basic training and beyond. I learned as I went through basic, that after I got into shape, it was just a team building experience with military realities built in. I made it through much easier than I thought I would and then prepared myself to serve out the remainder of my three-year enlistment. To be honest, I did not join the Army because I wanted to, or I thought it would make me anymore of a man. I was drafted into the service because of the Vietnam War. 

If anything, my gender issues became stronger when I was away in the military, as I constantly day-dreamed any spare moment I had about when I would become a civilian again and be able to pursue my dream of being a woman. It was all I had to get me by. 

Little did I know at the age of twenty, how complex and difficult my gender journey would take me throughout my life. To put it into perspective, the Army only took three years away from me, while deciding to finally come out as a transgender woman, took me forty more. I am sure my twenty years old would have asked why it took me so long to face the reality of who I really was and quit making excuses. I kidded myself for years thinking I was strong and would have to admit to my twenty-year-old, I simply wasn't. 

I would also have to tell my young self to not be afraid to dream because without dreams to achieve, often we arrive nowhere. I would have never made it to my goal of transgender womanhood unless I dreamed of it all those years and took steps to finally make it. Regardless of all the self-destructive behavior I put myself through. You only have one life to live and should try to do the best you can to preserve it. 

I was fortunate to have lived long enough to see my life come full circle from that confused twenty-year-old I was. When I did, I was able to achieve transgender dreams I never thought possible.  Of course, none of us know our ultimate destinies, the least we can do is accomplish goals which lead us in the right direction.

If you are in your closet, thinking you are trapped like I was, just do your best to look for the opportunities you may have to escape. Later on in life, it all may come back to help you with your transgender dreams.

The Darkness

 

Transvestia Magazine 1960.

The darkness in my transgender closet was intense and complete. I had no windows or doors to let any light in at all.

One of the problems I had was I lived in the pre-internet era when there was little to none gender information to learn from. I needed to wait for my monthly issue of "Virginia Prince's" Transvestia Magazine for so called heterosexual cross dressers only to learn there were others like me struggling with gender issues in the world at all. Even with the brief glimpse into the lives of others, I had very little of light in my dark lonely closet. I was very far away from knowing there was absolutely nothing wrong with being me. 

With guidance from the back pages of Transvestia, I managed to gather the confidence to attend a relatively close by mixer, blending cross dressers of every sort (or transvestites as they were known back then) with transsexuals. Remember, the transgender term was not used at the time. At the time, I was very naive and thought going to a mixer or two would help me out of my gender closet.  I was wrong and all I learned was I needed to go back to my dark closet until I learned more concerning others who might share gender issues with. 

What I did learn was there was no easy way to fit in with the transvestite community. I was too much of a woman for the parttime cross dressers and not enough to fit in with the transsexuals I met who were waiting for gender realignment surgery. Deep down I knew, I was not prepared for the surgeries needed to change my genitals and gender was not between my legs for me anyhow. It was between the ears in my brain. All the process did at the time was enable me to look for a brighter light in my closet. 

Sometimes I believe that unless you have experienced a dark closet yourself, it is impossible to explain to a person who never had to go through it. I know also, there are many of you who read the blog are hopelessly stuck in your own closets. Especially, with an increasingly politically charged anti-transgender world around us. Hopefully, you live in an area which is more liberal and welcoming to those with gender issues. 

I write often about how my life slowly changed through several transitions as I deluded myself as to who I really was. I internalized my true gender for nearly fifty years. Early on, I told myself I was a man cross dressing as a woman, when the opposite was true. I was a woman cross dressing as a man the best I could. At the same time, I was nearing one of the most important transitions of my life, when I began to think of myself as a transgender woman and not a cross dresser. It was only at that point, when the darkness began to lift from my life, and I could live again. 

Hopefully, your gender life as a cross dresser or transgender person is not ruled by darkness and the light at the end of the tunnel you see is not the train.

Do the Right Thing

 

Image from UnSplash.

I learned early on from my parents when in doubt, you should always do the right thing. At the same time, I learned from them, dressing to look like a girl was not doing the right thing. So, I needed to completely hide it.

Later, when I attempted to navigate my gender path, I found many obstacles I did not foresee hurting me. But they did and brought about many doubts. Of course, the main doubt was, should I be doing all the cross dressing I was doing in public at all. Still, I persisted and improved my craft at presenting well as a femininized person. Finally, I arrived at a point where I could leave my dark gender closet and attempt to live a new scary yet exciting life. The more I explored as a novice transgender woman, the more I wanted to do. Which brought me back to the question, was I doing the right thing. 

Similar to so many of you, I suffered from extreme guilt as my second wife kept telling me my gender desires were selfish pursuits. The sad part of it was, for the most part, she was right. She wanted very little to do with me wanting to be a woman, so I kept it away from her. Not the right thing to do in a marriage but was my only recourse. At that time, I only had a distant dream of perhaps living someday as a transgender woman. All I needed was the courage to face my reality. 

Because of a number of reasons, I needed to do much more exploring the world as a transgender woman to see if I could survive. First, I had to look the part, then I needed to live the part. Standing in my way, were the usual questions of transitioning to another gender such as what would become of my family, friends and job. As well as did I really hate my male life that much. I wasted hour upon hour antagonizing over what I should do and would it be the right thing. 

I was stubborn of course and refused to do any more than observe several transsexual women I knew from a distance. From their stories I did know they had really good safe jobs or were close to retirement so they could support themselves whereas I did not and had no idea of what I would do for an income. Plus, I also needed to consider, both of them were flat out gorgeous and had no problems presenting in the world as women. I did not labor under any idea I even came close to being as attractive as them and did not have that going for me either. After taking all of this and much more into consideration, I did not know what I could do about my gender dilemma which was not doing my mental health any favors.

What I did do was try to continue on the path I was on. To increase my awareness of the world as a transgender woman as much as I could at a time, I went as far as I could. Even absorbing major clashes with my wife over what I was doing. I can't always say I did the right thing as I learned more and more about living in the new world I was seeking. There were too many times when I had to out and out lie to get out of situations, I found myself in. In all fairness to my wife, she told me to stop it and just become a woman to bring peace to both of us. Still, I did not have the courage to change my life and leave her behind. I did not do the right thing. 

You regulars know what happened next. My wife passed away quite tragically from a heart attack leaving me all alone with my dogs to put my life back together. I rapidly turned to my inner feminine self as the strongest person around and did the right thing and finally turned to a life I always just dreamed of. 

On a side note, I may be missing a day of blogging tomorrow as my wife Liz and I have a daylong seminar to attend. Sorry for the inconvenience!

Wait? There is More?

 

Hand Beaded Hair Beret
by Liz T Designs
Haur by JJ Hart. 

When I reached every dead end on my gender path, I thought I was finished with my dream of ever being a transgender woman.

It turned out, when I researched every dead end, most were just blind curves I needed to negotiate, so I pushed on. It turned out, one of my biggest problems I had was dealing with my own fears. Would I be discovered and laughed at or worse. When neither started to happen, I gathered my courage to do more and more in the world.

Mentally, I was able to make another major transition from cross dresser (which never worked for me), all the way to transgender, which did. The process turned out to be one of the biggest mental moves of my life and in many ways saved me from harming myself. All the years of not making a connection and connecting my gender dots were over, and finally, I was able to understand why my life had been so difficult. Mainly, it was because I was so busy fighting myself, I did not have the room to search for anything else. Keep in mind too, while this was going on, I was also trying to juggle a male life which I was succeeding at. Making it more and more difficult to give up.

Through it all, I did find out there was so much more to my femininized life than my old male one. To get there, I needed to keep pushing. I set up mini bucket lists where I wanted to try out as a trans woman to see if I would be accepted. At first, I went to the easy venues such as malls, clothing stores and bookstores to see if I could make it in my new world. Once I did, I attempted to step up my layers of difficulty to challenge myself to be better, and at the same time build my confidence to seek out more in my new life. My end goal with all of this was to discover if I indeed did have any chance to live my lifelong dream of being a woman. Even though I went too far on my bucket list ideas, I still had to push forward because so much was at stake in my life. Afterall, I had family, friends and jobs to consider among other things I did not consider yet because they were beyond the next blind corner. 

Sometimes, what was behind the next blind corner was easy to deal with and other times presented me with situations which were very difficult to deal with. Such as the time I had the police called on me due to an ill-advised rest room visit, all the way to being run out of my regular venues by a group of men who were harassing me. Predictably, it took me quite a bit of time to regain my confidence, but I did and moved on to greener gender pastures. 

One of my biggest obstacles to finding the greener pastures was my lack of knowledge in communicating as a woman. I never thought the public would want to interact with me as quickly as they did, and I was not in the least prepared for it. For the first time in my life, I needed to really listen to other people and prepare early for a proper response which was good enough to get me by. I even resorted to taking feminine vocalization courses at the Veterans Administration to help get me to the next corner to see if there was more to do. 

It always seemed there was more to do as I attempted to immerse myself into my transgender womanhood. Especially when I started gender affirming hormones. When I did, welcome changes began to happen quicker than I expected and once again, I was not prepared for what I was facing. For example, I had a timetable in my head for when I could finally put all the male life behind me and start a new life from all the gender work, I had done. Primarily, because of early surprising breast development, I needed to scrap my mental timetable and get started on my new life. From there, there would be no looking back.

From HRT forward, I thought there would be fewer mores in my life, but I was wrong. My wife Liz came along and with her, she expected me to accompany her in the world doing things I had never tried before. We went on vacations, went to the symphony as well as junk yards for car parts and made a life together. 

Now as I look to the final chapters coming up in my life, I know there are many more significant mores in my life coming up. It is just a part of life. Maybe transgender women and trans men just have more to navigate than the average person as we seek a new gender life. 

What Came First?

 

Image from Alexander Grey
on UnSplash. 

Today was "patch" day, when I changed out my gender affirming hormonal estradiol patches, which I do twice a week. 

Every time I change out my patches to new ones, I think back to all the changes I went through when I first started years ago. Among other things, I remember how impatient I was to see and feel changes I hoped were forthcoming. I was also disappointed when I learned I would have to start on a very minimal dosage until the doctor and I could see if there were going to be any negatives to the treatment. Fortunately, there were not, and I was given progressively higher doses until I was finally assigned to an endocrinologist for more specialized treatment. At the time, the Dayton, Ohio VA Hospital did not have an Endo, so I needed to wait until they found me an outside provider for my care. After quite a bit of pushing on my part, the VA finally came through and I was set until they came up with their own Endo. Which I have to this day.

In the meantime, I was experiencing many significant changes to my body and surprisingly, to my mind. It was like my body had already been set up for the new HRT hormones and felt very natural with the changes. It is easy to write about the external changes I always mention, such as breast growth, hair growth and the overall softening of my skin. As I mentioned in a recent post, suddenly I was able to present better when I was out in public because I was able to wear less makeup and get my own hair styled and colored how I wanted it. 

Less obvious to the world, but more obvious to me were the internal changes I began to rapidly feel with the new hormones in my body. What came first was I was losing more and more contact with my old male self. I was losing my old testosterone edge and began to really mellow out. I went through puberty again and even experienced my first hot flashes as my body adjusted to the new femininized world it was in. Most certainly, my male self-had come first out of necessity, but the HRT allowed my feminine self the chance to catch up. I even learned women were not making it up when they were saying they were cold all the time, when my thermostat went crazy, and I was too. 

One of the only drawbacks I experienced was I needed to move up my life transition timeline, because changes were beginning to happen so rapidly. I could no longer wear most of my male shirts because of my new breasts and I needed to always be careful to tie back my hair when I was butching it up when I was going out. Also, my facial hair never really changed as I knew it wouldn't, but my body hair nearly completely went away, which was great.

As I said, there were no drawbacks when I left my male world internally. I never missed the actions of my male self who always seemed to be on edge. I became very introspective on what I was going through and could even began to be able to cry for the first time in my life. It was then I learned there were different sort of tears. Tears of sorrow and tears of joy were quite possible. 

I had no choice, my male self-came first and I ended up trying decades of cross dressing to fight him. But as I changed, gender affirming hormones were a huge part of it. In many ways, HRT was the deciding factor in finding my way into transgender womanhood. 

It turned out the second part of my life turned out to be so much more fulfilling than the first part. Even though I was frustrated at times that I waited so long, it was worth the wait. Especially when I learned the hormones did not change my sexuality. I was still attracted to women, and I found some were attracted to me as a transgender lesbian. It was all so exciting and new, I could not get enough of my new life and it did not matter what came first.

A Failure

 

JJ Hart at a Witches Ball.

There were many times in my life when I felt as if I was a failure.

I can blame a portion of my feelings on my parents who I feel placed unrealistic expectations on me in my male life. Of course, my up-and-coming female life was hidden from them, so I felt they had no control over me. Only the mirror seemed to. When I was able to transform myself into what I thought was a passable girl, no one could take the fact away from me I was a success in something. In fact, in those days, it was easy not to be a failure because I was so alone with my cross-dressing urges.

Even so, I still had problems thinking somehow, I was a failure. The major problem was I could never seem to get enough of viewing myself as a girl in the mirror. I began to think even though I had a temporary fix on my life, there was a deeper problem. Looking back now, I sense the problem was much deeper than just wanting to wear makeup and feminine wardrobe, I was going through the earliest stages of discovering I was transgender. The only problem was the transgender term and knowledge of had not been invented yet. Leading me to believe once again I was a failure.

As the years crept by and the overall knowledge of gender issues increased, I began to realize I was less of a failure. However, at that point, I began to explore the world more and more as a novice transgender woman so again I was beginning to feel as a failure when life did not work out for me. I was struggling to maintain my demanding male life, my married life, and my new life as a transgender woman. In time, the strain became too much, and it wrecked my fragile mental health. Most of the time, I did not know which way I was going, especially in my gender life. I needed to be careful when I was at work in a macho atmosphere not to slip up and show my feminine side and vice versa when I was experimenting with my feminized self. I certainly did not want to show any of my well-worn masculine tendencies.

Another problem was I had the idea I knew everything I needed to know about being a woman. Afterall, I found myself in a place where I looked the part. When I found out I did not, the difficult portion of my gender journey began. Putting the femininized version of myself I had created into motion was very difficult. Specifically, when I needed to actually communicate for the first time with the world. I felt as if I was a failure all over again and needed to start all over on my extended path to transgender womanhood. It turned out I did not really have to but still needed to work hard to look the public in the eye and have confidence in myself and improve my overall communication with the world. Eventually, I needed to enroll in feminine vocal lessons to improve myself. 

By improving myself, I was able to re-enter the world as an improved transgender woman and survive. I needed to roll up my sleeves and got to work to be a non-failure in a very demanding world.

Living the Dream

Image of dreaming woman from 
James Forbus on UnSplash.

 For the greater part of a half a century, the thought of transgender womanhood remained a distant dream for me.

The main reason was, I spent decades denying who I really was, as my male self-sought to rule me. Sadly, he either won many gender battles or made life overall miserable for me. When he was doing it, my dream remained in place as I wondered how big my rainbow was and would I ever live my dream. In the meantime, I kept experimenting in the world as an out transgender woman. 

When I had the chance, I would do things such as attend downtown festivals all the way to watching an outdoor concert as my new exciting authentic self. I had a black leotard top I often wore with a favorite pair of flair legged silky pants and a glittering pair of black and gold sandals. I even went as far at the daylight festival I went to; I added a pair of sunglasses so I could see anyone checking me out in a negative way without them being able to see my eyes. My biggest discovery was no one paid me any real attention. In other words, I was beginning to think I could actually live out my dream of transgender womanhood. 

From there I attempted to expand my new exciting life. I completely enjoyed the time I spent living my dream and soon, never wanted to go back to my male life. When I was forced back, I hated it. Often, I took it out on my second wife and other close people around me. By internalizing my dream, I grew angrier and angrier and almost lost good jobs because of it. 

It was not until I began to spend almost all of my spare time living my dream, did I realize I could really succeed at it. Finally, I had made the transition from the mirror to the world and was ready to attempt to learn to do more. Overall, I began to have more success than failures when I learned not to push my gender envelope too far. I was accepted at several venues where I wanted to go to watch sports and drink beer plus, I gained a couple unexpected female friends when I did it. I was discovering I was closer and closer to my dream of transgender womanhood was almost here and I wanted more and more of it.

I did not think I would ever make it to my dream, but destiny was on my side and all of a sudden, at the age of sixty, I realized I was at a huge make it or break it time of my life. Either I completed my gender transition then, or I never would have the chance again. I seized the opportunity and even had the chance of meeting the cisgender woman of my dreams who accepted and even encouraged me to be a better version of myself. She told me very few humans ever have the chance to reinvent themselves, so I should strive to do it right. As I did.

At my age of seventy-five now, I still have the everyday pain which comes with age, but I try to write and walk every day to stay active. Perhaps by doing so, I can expand my dream to the fullest. 

Thanks for reading along! I hope you can live out your dream also.

Creating Gender Tension

Image from Tim Mossholder 
on UnSplash.

 
I am aware of the natural tension which goes on between the binary genders of male and female. 

I am also aware of the added tension which goes on when a transgender woman or trans man tries to cross the gender frontier to live on the other side. For me, at least, the tension became ridiculous and ruined my mental health which was already fragile. Before I was diagnosed with gender dysphoria, I was diagnosed with being bi-polar also. At the time, the diagnosis seemed to be a double-edged sword because I was wondering why I suffered from deep mood swings and blamed the swings on my gender issues. When I found I had deeper mental health issues, in many ways, it was a relief they were not tied in with my cross dressing. On the other hand, ideally, I could treat being bi-polar with medications and move on with my life.

My worry was any future therapy I might seek out, would involve the therapist attempting to tie my mental health in with my need to be a woman. Even though it was true, my gender needs did conflict with my mental health and cause tension, they were both separate entities and needed to be dealt with separately. I was fortunate in that I had two long term therapists who agreed with me, and I was treated as such.

However, my gender tension never went away, and, in many ways, I just learned to live with it. What I did was, resort to what I did when I was younger and try to cross dress my way through my transgender life. Predictably, when I was cross dressing, life was good and when I was not cross dressing, it was not. I was mean and tried to take it out on the world around me. I became so mean on occasion; I lost a job because of it. What no one understood was, I was being tougher on myself than anyone else. In typical male fashion, I was internalizing my feelings until they exploded. I even used therapy as a crutch with my second wife who had to put up with me. The best way for me to explain it is, I would never quite tell my wife what my therapist said. The prime example I can give you is, very early in my sessions with a certified gender therapist, she told me there was nothing to do concerning me wanting to be a woman. Sooner or later, I was to just have to follow my instincts.

There was no way, I could tell my wife that when I was supposed to be undergoing therapy to save our marriage. So, I ignored what the therapist told me and predictably, the gender tension continued and even became worse. I did my best to tread water and try to live a life divided between being a man part of the week and a trans woman when I could the remainder of the week. It nearly killed me as I tried my best to maintain an impossible life. My best was not good enough and I attempted an ill-fated suicide. When I woke up the next morning after taking all the pills I had and chasing them with alcohol, self-preservation kicked in and once again I made the wrong decision and resolved to purge most of my feminine fashion and make up, then go back to my male life. 

We all know the majority of gender purges don't work. Certainly, it did not work for me, even when I grew a beard to satisfy my second wife that I was not doing anything related to cross dressing at all. Once again, my gender tension rose to a very ugly level, and I was very unhappy. Little did I know, my life was due to change in a very tragic and dramatic way when in approximately six months, my wife passed away from a sudden heart attack. 

The life changing experience led me back to my feminine self and I never looked back. When I did, the gender tension I was suffering from disappeared and I felt free.  

Transgender Destiny?

 

Image from Marvin 
Kuhn on UnSplash.

When some unknowing person says something like I had a choice to be transgender, I just laugh and say being trans was simply my destiny.

I believe my journey began before birth when my mom was prescribed the D.E.S. medication which was popular at the time for women who had a history of experiencing problem pregnancies. Since my mom had undergone three still births before me, it seems to me, she would have been a prime candidate for the drug when I was born in 1949. 

From the very brief studies I have seen on D.E.S., it was supposed to flood the mother's womb with estrogen. Which of course affected the fetus also. 

How ironic would it be that the initial dose of estrogen I received in the womb would later on come back to help me. It took me fifty years, but eventually I discovered when I went on HRT or gender affirming hormones, how natural I would feel. No adverse effects at all, just a warm feeling I was finally doing what was right. In other words, I was coming home. The only problem was my life was filled with the gender torment of fighting my basic will to be feminine. What if I had just given in to my instincts so much earlier. Would life had been more pleasant?

The problem was though, gender was never cut and dry with me. I was cursed with a male body which on one hand kept the bullies away but on the other, made it very difficult to obtain a feminine look when I found the secret time to cross dress as a girl. I had to take one or another which caused me considerable stress to my mental health. Waking up every day wondering if I was a boy or a girl, was certainly no fun. 

Plus, there was absolutely no one I could explain my gender issues to. I grew up in a male dominated family and knew there would be no way I could be accepted. I knew, even being caught in girls' clothes would earn me a trip to a psychiatrist. Deep down, I knew there was nothing mentally wrong with me, so I did want not any part of a visit. Remember, this was back in the 1950's when there was little to no knowledge of gender issues. In fact, gender issues were labeled as mental disorders. All that happened was, I was driven deeper into my feminine gender shell.  

As time went on, I developed a very thick shell which when I finally ready to do so, was difficult to escape from. In other words, I needed to establish too many levels of feminine escape before I made the final jump to the other gender frontier. I needed to slowly discover if the other gender as a transgender woman would provide me what I had been missing all of my life. I felt as if I was sliding down a slippery slope into a valley, I knew very little about. 

As I slid down the slope, I saw bit and pieces of my old life go by as I mourned some of the pieces and I rejoiced at others. As I felt more and more comfortable in my new transgender womanhood, I knew the landing would be as soft as possible. I found my gender needs had changed, for the best. I finally took my chance at the age of sixty to forever change my life and live fulltime as a transgender woman.

I finally had my chance to fulfill my D.E.S. destiny. I could not reclaim the time I had lost but I could lead a better life going forward.

A Spectator in my Own Life

 

Image from Ryan 
Mangino on UnSplash.

There were many times during my life as a transgender woman, I felt as if I was a spectator looking in on the action.

The whole process was very strange to say the least as I was thinking, just who was that person. Plus, having the chance to think what I was doing was a totally different sensation. The entire problem stemmed I think, from the earlier years of my life when I was positive, I was two different people all together. One male and one female. It was not until much later on when I began to realize I was always feminine and fought all things male when I could.

Slowly but surely, I began to realize the truth and began to notice my cross-dressing nights out involved much more than just attempting to look the best I could. My spectator began slowly to change away from watching a male life unfold to watching a female one do the same. Helping me were the girls-night-out invitations I received. Following a bout of impostor's syndrome, I suffered through, I settled down and enjoyed myself. When I came to the conclusion I had just as much right there as the next woman. We had all came to our right of womanhood through different paths and mine was just different.

Finally, I grew tired of just being a spectator in my feminine life and wanted more. More meant being a spectator in my male life. Since I was still working and living part-time as a man, it meant I really needed to concentrate on my speech and movements when I was still a guy. In fact, there were a couple of embarrassing times when I was called Ma'am at work when I was in male mode. 

Early on, being a spectator in my own life was certainly a curiosity. Especially, when I thought I was just a cross dresser and putting on a dress was just a hobby. The closer I moved to true transgender womanhood, the more I learned that was not true. As I always say, the key moment in my life came when I realized I was not a man cross dressing as a woman, I was a woman cross dressing as a man. The tragic part was I went through male puberty and was testosterone poisoned as I grew up. I did not appreciate when my soft body turned to hardened angles as well as the other male changes but there was nothing I could do.

When I found my gender destination, I stopped being a spectator and began to be a more involved participant. For me, flipping my gender became an intensely frightening but natural part of my life. Living my dream was so dominant in my thought pattern, I had no problem with girls-nights-out and even could not wait for them. My newfound confidence as a woman completely pushed any idea of me being a spectator aside and opened the door for me to be a more well-rounded participant. Of course, confidence always grows more confidence, and I grew to the point where I had nothing else to prove to the other women I was around.

As I look back, being a spectator in my own life as sometimes a necessary but very different part of my existence. The entire process sometimes helped me to understand where I was going towards my dream of transgender womanhood.