When My Tomorrow Became my Today

JJ Hart

My desires to always look like a pretty girl early in life led me to always be a tomorrow person.

 I always thought that somehow tomorrow I could get a real wig, nicer clothes and more makeup which would help with my feminine transformation. I guess you could say that the whole process made me into quite the dreamer as I sat in school and envied the girls around me in their pretty clothes I could not have. At least today but maybe not tomorrow if any of my dreams came true.

Soon I discovered that dreams never came true on their own and would take an enormous amount of work on my part to make a dream happen. Especially once as complex as crossing the gender border to live a transfeminine life. I often wonder if I would have had an ounce of foresight into how difficult I was going to have it; would I have ever undertaken such a crazy path to begin with. One which would completely consume all the spare energy I could use.

The first problem I had to conquer in my feminine life was my often-frustrating attempts to look like a woman and not some sort of a clown in drag at the circus. I found I was setting the bar way too high in my appearance standards as there was never going to be a day when I could match the prettiest women I envied. I just needed to blend in with the rest of the ciswomen in the world just going about their everyday lives. It took me many painful attempts at presenting properly as a trans woman before I got it right and was able to move around in the world without causing any undue attention to myself. When I did, I was happy to stay in the present until my brief gender euphoria went away. As I crashed from the euphoria of living as myself, I was bitter, nasty and tried to take my frustrations out on the world of ciswomen around me. Why could not I be like them and live in their world held me back in mine, so I kept dreaming about the next time I could I could live my dream in the world fully cross-dressed as a woman.

The good part was that all along I was becoming better in my presentation as a woman and was finding it easier to cross the gender border. The bad part was once I did it, I wanted to stay and not go back to the male I was living. It was then that my todays became longer, and my tomorrows seemed further away. My new mentors became the established transgender women I had met at the socials I was going to in nearby Columbus, Ohio. They had crossed border and were living successful lives and I wanted to learn more about how they did it. What I learned was that every trans person’s journey was different and it was rarely ever easy. All I ever knew was that every time I was accepted into their circle, I felt natural and wanted to learn more about them.

As I look back on it, the one thing the mentors had on me was their natural beauty which I never had, so I had to keep putting my tomorrow off until I found out I could do a male to female transformation my own way. Or out of sheer willpower as I had a transwoman friend of, mine tell me in a straight bar we were in one night. By this time, I had given up on any natural feminine beauty I might have and made my tomorrow become my today by using other strengths ciswomen bring to the table when they don’t happen to share the extreme passing gene that some women have. They go on to lead fun and fulfilling lives by tuning out all the demands to be beautiful they hear. That is what I had to do because for sure ciswomen come on all shapes and models and I could certainly find a group I could fit in with. Which in my case, happened to be lesbians.

I was really seeking out the company of lesbians so to speak; I just happened to stumble across their culture at a small lesbian venue I started to go to as well a through a bartender at a big sports bar I used to go to who introduced me to her mom. Through it all, I knew the next step for me was to become more feminine by using HRT or gender affirming hormones. My approval to take the hormones focused my tomorrow so much I could not wait to get there. I changed during the time I was socializing with my new lesbian friends who took me to watch sports as well as big lesbian mixers. I was having the time of my life as my tomorrow was rapidly becoming my today.

Maybe most importantly, my friends helped me to validate myself as who I was really was as the subject of my past life as a man never came up. They did not want to know, and I did not want to bring it up as I was just appreciating my spot in my new present as a transfeminine person.

The final touches in my today came when my daughter accepted me totally and I met my current wife of over a decade Liz. They helped rid myself of any lingering doubts of how I should live my life. Over my gender cliff I went into their soft arms and my gender tomorrow was gone for good.

My only passing regret was that it took me so long to face up to who I was always was as a full-fledged human being. There was no way I should have let it go as long as I did, I should have let tomorrow be my today. I was all wrong as I tried to cross-dress my pain away. My excuse is I was jinxed all along into leading a backwards gender life thinking I was a man trying to be a woman rather than the other way around. That way, I would have never let my todays and tomorrows get mixed up the way they did.

 

 

On A Gender Vacation

 

Image from PR Media 
on Ubsplash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

Burning my Gender Bridges

 

Image from Issiac Viglione
on UnSplash. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

Try then Try Again

 

Early Days in my Gender Closet
JJ Hart.

When I first broke out of my gender closet and into the world, there were many cases of failure I needed to deal with.

For example, all the evenings in malls when I was singled out for abuse by groups of teenaged girls. So much so that I tried my best to head to the other side of the mall as quickly as I could in my new high heels before the girls noticed me and started laughing.  When that happened, many times I was sent home in tears wondering what I had done wrong with my presentation. One thing was for sure, I needed to go back to my cross-dressing drawing board and try, try again.

It took me a while to realize I was backwards in my public presentation thinking. I was dressing myself how a man would rather than how a ciswoman would if I stood any chance of blending in and making it in a world I only had just dreamed of. Plus, I benefitted from a crash diet I put myself on which helped me to fit into more stylish feminine clothes. It was the first time in my life that I had been so serious about anything that I could remember.

One big thing I did not realize was the total scope of the male to female femininization project I was taking on. The deeper I delved into the feminine culture I was in, the more I found I had to try to do to become successful and there were many times when I simply not a success. One time that sticks out in my mind was when I visited my gender therapist unannounced as my authentic self and sent her into obvious shock looking around to find out where her son was. I would have thought, since she advertised herself as a gender therapist, she would have been more comfortable around a person cross-dressed as themselves. But she was not. I took it as I had to keep on working on my feminine presentation to hide all the testosterone poisoning male puberty had wrecked my body with.

The more I was able to find myself behind the gender curtain as a transgender woman, the more I needed to try, try again to never stop learning more about how ciswomen spend their lives operating in the world. The circles they run in and their overall dealings with each other as well as men come to mind as I think back on my initial experiences. It was a scary yet exciting time in my life as much of the time I was still risking destroying life as I knew it, if the world discovered my deep dark secret. I had not yet concluded my secret really was that I was a woman hiding behind a man. Not the way I was living thinking I was a man trying to be a woman.

Most of the time, the world did ignore me as my presentation improved well enough to get me by but on the occasions I met the rare TERF (radical feminist) gatekeeper who did not want me behind the gender curtain, I was sent away to try, try again until I earned my way into the places I wanted to go mainly such as women’s restrooms because on my long days out I simply needed to go to the bathroom and not make it such a big deal. It took me a lot of resilience and knowledge of the feminine world to do it but I finally earned my way into the “room” also.

I have always thought that building my fragile confidence into a strong one was one of the best moves I ever made so I could relax in the world and stop trying so hard to be myself. I say fragile because there were so many times over the years when I thought I had achieved confidence only to have it shattered by an unfeeling gender bigot. By trying again and again to overcome the haters, I made it to a point where I could say to heck with them and I was going to live my own life the way I saw fit.  

When I had reached a point where I thought I had enough confidence to get me by was when something unexpected happened to challenge my path. All along, I had some sort of an idea of how complex a ciswomen’s life was than a man’s life, but until I got there as a trans woman, I did not have a real idea of how complex. It was as if every time I thought I could see a clear road ahead on my gender path, someone would throw a stop sign in my way. Making me stop what I was doing and look around. Did I really want to take all these difficult steps I was taking to be a transfeminine person after all.

Of course, once I stopped, looked around and thought about it, I discovered I was in the world which I had always belonged to and I wanted to stay in the worst way. The more I was allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox, the more natural I felt as I felt my life make a seismic shift towards becoming the person I had always meant to be. To keep trying, I needed to decide to risk losing all my remaining close friends, family and employment and embark on the road without any more stop signs.

I was not getting any younger and at the age of sixty my transgender biological clock was running out. It was time to try to see if I was still healthy enough to be approved by a doctor for gender affirming hormones or HRT and I was. Which was actually the last big gender hurdle I had to try because I had already done the social part and I did not desire any extensive facial or genital realignment surgeries. So, I could then try to discover if I could find anyone to share my unique life with.

By trying to put myself out there on dating sites and in the regular straight venues I was going to, that paid off for me too when a ciswoman lesbian from nearby Cincinnati responded to one of my on-line dating requests and we are still together fourteen years later.

All those early years of trying and failing came back to help me years later when I needed it most and my life went full circle.

Thanks for reading along and passing along all your comments and reactions! I really appreciate hearing from you.

 

 

Understanding is the First Step to Overcoming Fear

 

JJ Hart (Center) on a 
girls' night out. 

Before you can overcome fear, you need to understand exactly what you are afraid of.

I know I was petrified of leaving my closet behind and heading out into a world where I knew little or nothing as a novice cross-dresser. It took me years to overcome most of my fears except the ones I never did. Such as going into male dominated spaces by myself as a transgender woman. For some unknown reason, that one thing has always been a problem for me and my anxiety issues about coming out in the world.

When I was younger, I always thought either I would grow out of my need to feel feminine in all ways or somehow, I would lose my fear of doing it. Of course, I learned quickly that anytime soon I would not be outgrowing my urges to cross the gender border into a feminine world. In fact, my urges were getting stronger which led to more fear and anxiety about the future of my life. Out of sheer survival, I had to find out why I was so scared.

The easy way out for me was just by thinking that making the gender jump into what I perceived as greener pastures, was the reason I was so scared. I was using the dresses and makeup I had acquired to hide behind and feel better in times of duress. I was too new at the gender game to consider ideas such as gender privileges which I was accumulating as a young man with out even knowing it. Privileges such as never having my intelligence questioned or having an innate sense of personal security were never questioned. I found I would not have to until much later in life when I began to present well enough as a transfeminine person to get by. All of a sudden, passing as a woman meant more than just having a man open a door for me. I had to take the good with the bad if I was ever going to be successful in making it to my dream of living as a woman on my own terms.

The more involved I became in my male to female femininization, the more I discovered there was no easy way out. Which frightened me more. I always equate it as me busily painting myself into new life corners as a trans woman which there was no easy escape from. Finally, I did see a brief escape from my unreasoning fear was when the transgender term was being popularized to gender conflicted people like me. There was a term which described people such as me who did not fit into the cross dresser-transvestite mold or the more extreme transsexual person. From the moment I saw the trans term, I immediately knew it described me. It certainly took long enough for a term to come along, which helped me, but it finally did.

Being able to read about other more accomplished transgender women and trans men helped me to understand my fears and why I was feeling them and the new less rigid gender spectrum terms helped me immensely. For the first time in my life, I could pinpoint why I was feeling a certain way and at the same time calm most of my anxieties. Gender diversity became my motto in life as I really began to explore the world of ciswomen for the first time. I had left the men’s club (and they knew it) and wanted to join the women’s club if they would have me. Yes, the world of ciswomen would have me which lessened my fears and anxieties immensely. Mainly because I had a better understanding of where I wanted to go.

Looking back, I do not know why I took so long to try to have a better understanding of who I really was. I could blame the usual suspects such as my old male self or my second wife who put up such a battle against me transitioning when in reality it was all on me. In the would of-should of department, I always should have faced up to the fact I was more female than male and should have not made life miserable for my wife when I did not “man-up” in her terms and become a woman. I guess I was never one to take the easy way out.

If I had taken any of the excess time I was wasting, I would have taken the time to calm my fears by understanding who I was as a person and try to build a better feminine person I learned I could be from all the male building blocks I had left behind. As I looked around at the new world of ciswomen, I was seeking admittance into, I realized they were more diverse than even I had given them credit for. And I would not be shunned for wanting to do something like wearing my favorite team’s jersey on game day in one of the sports bars I was a regular in because other women were beating me to it by wearing their jerseys It made my fears evaporate as my life became more fun again and certainly more fulfilling as I had always wondered what it would be like to cheer my favorite teams on in the venues I was used to going to as a woman and not a man.

Once I finally started to have a basic understanding of where my fears were coming from, I was able to better keep them under control. Which, in turn led me to being more relaxed with a chance to let my long hidden trans woman personality shine through.

I know it is difficult for all of you who are just getting started along your gender path to not be afraid because of what is at stake but if you are able to slow your life down to take a closer look at it…you will stand a better chance of understanding your fears and anxiety and living a better life.

Thanks for reading along and I hope my experiences can help you anyway I can!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Letting Tomorrow take care Of Itself as a Transgender Woman

 

Image from Valentina Conde
on UnSplash.

Since I was always a person who had a difficult time living in the present, tomorrow always loomed large in my mind.

I think it all started when I began to rebel against the masculine world I was being forced to live in and always thought tomorrow could be better. It turned out that all the wishing and hoping I did for a better tomorrow turned out to be wasted time and energy, I finally needed to take matters into my own hands, stay in the present and do something about me being stuck in my dark, restrictive, gender closet with only a mirror to help me.

It took a quantum shift of thinking on my part to even thinking about how I could change my life. First of all, it was nearly impossible for me to quit daydreaming about the next time I could cross-dress in my mom’s clothes and try on her makeup. Any time I was not actively being engaged in male activities, I was hoping that soon I would be glimpsing a view of me in a favorite miniskirt I had found by accident at school outside of the girl’s locker room. If the girl who left it behind did not want it, I certainly did before a janitor found it and threw it in the trash. I was overjoyed to add it to my small but growing feminine wardrobe at home. Hopefully away from any prying eyes who may find it.

Somehow, I managed to hide my “treasures” away and add to them with my own meager funds I had earned from my rural newspaper route and from chores I was doing around the house. I will never forget the excitement I felt when I found a pair of women’s shoes that fit me in the department store where I was sneaking in to buy my makeup and panty hose. The whole process made me feel good because for once I was not relying on anyone else to help my cross-dressing along. It all was just me, and I was in the present doing it.

As I moved along in years and experience, I increasingly wanted to break out of my dark closet to see if I could exist in the world, in the present for once as the person I was coming to believe could be my true self. I learned the hard way that the public would not be as forgiving as much as my mirror was as I was treated quite rudely the first several times I went out. Even in places I should have had no problems in such as the big shopping malls back when they were popular. I couldn’t seem to dodge the giggles and stares I got from the teen girls before I learned to stay in the present, be who I was and begin to blend in with the group of other ciswomen in the mall. I learned the hard way to dress for them and not rely on some sort of trashy look that appealed to men. Which was getting me clocked as a man in drag every time.

All this new reality was teaching me I could indeed enjoy the present when I was out in the world. But not enough to keep me there when I was back in my unwanted male world. I have always wished I could get back just a portion of the time I wasted daydreaming of how it would be if I was the only ciswoman in a business meeting I was in. I know I could have been more effective…if I could have been accepted. Which I would not discover how difficult that would be until I got out further in the world as a transgender woman. I will always remember how I was shunned by a small group of men I somehow became involved in a discussion with when I first came out of my shell. Quickly I discovered, as a woman among cismen, I would have to fight for my right to be heard on an equal basis.

The more I was out in the world, the more I was forced to stay in the present. If I did not, I could find myself slipping back into old male habits which would give my past away much sooner. Such as not employing my old “stay away” male scowl and replacing it with a much more pleasant feminine look which said I was happy to be here. Which got me by. Other areas of just being a woman I needed to concentrate on was how I moved around in the world when I was still trying to juggle being in both worlds of male and female. One day I needed to be feminine, and the next masculine ended up taking a real toll on my mental health as I did not know somedays what present I was supposed to be in.

Plus, the one aspect of being in the now as a transgender woman was the one I always mention, communication. As I was blissfully (sometimes) going along my gender path, suddenly more and more ciswomen wanted to know about me and were curious why I would be in their world. I was totally blindsided when I needed to start and participate in entire conversations with other women who appeared in my world. I discovered communication went way past just how my voice sounded into exactly what I was saying and how fast I could pick up two uniquely feminine communication aspects. Non-verbal communication and passive aggressive behavior. The normal ciswomen who interacted with me ended up using all their skills to size me up and often it turned into quite the contest that I needed to stay on my toes to get through.

Eventually, surviving all the gender wars I went through, made me a better, more well-rounded trans woman who could hold her own in the world. Primarily because I had built up the confidence to do it, and it became my number one accessory. So, what if my makeup or walk wasn’t exactly correct, I knew who I was and it showed. There was no blood in my water for the human sharks around me to come after.

All those years of trying to get into my present and stay there finally paid off for me, but only after I had paid all my dues.

 

 

 

 

 

Living the Dream

 

Image from Randy Tarampi
on UnSplash.

I discovered before I could live a dream of living as my own unique sense of womanhood, I needed to discover exactly what that meant.

I knew very early on it was much more than just applying makeup and parading around in one of mom’s dresses. It went much deeper than that. I wanted to be a girl as badly as anything I had ever wanted in my life.

The problem was that I was stuck in an information “never-never” land with no internet or social media of any sort to provide key information on what it really meant to have issues with your gender and not just throw you aside with some sort of a mental illness diagnosis. I did know enough about myself to know I was not mentally ill for wanting to be everything feminine. So, I did the only thing I knew how, day dream my life away envying the ciswomen around me.

As I grew into myself, I learned more about my dream and the overall demands it would make upon my life. Even though I tried not too, I still added extra male baggage such as a child, marriage and a better career to my life. I always thought I would be better off lonely with just having myself to depend on if I ever had to get rid of it all in my male world and start all over again as a transgender woman. Another problem was that I was tantalizing close to encountering other gender conflicted people who were actively following their dreams, so I knew it was possible.

For example, I just missed crossing paths in my broadcasting career with other trans women who were actively following their dream. One at a small radio station I worked at in my hometown and another I ran into at a AFTN Thailand radio/tv reunion in New Orleans. Sadly, the trans woman was so shy and backwards, I could not even get her attention to say hello.

Everything changed when I came home to nearby Columbus, Ohio and was invited to very diverse small parties on a regular basis. Everyone was there, including several trans women who were headed for gender realignment surgeries that I was able to interact with and learn from. How much exactly did my dream entail? Going all the way like they did, or not was my major point of wanting to know about them. The one thing I did find out was that they had taken the time and effort to set themselves up for success in the new lives they were undertaking. One trans woman was a firefighter getting ready to retire and had a good pension and insurance coming to cover her surgery and another was a very successful electrical engineer who was extraordinarily beautiful and knew she would not have any problems continuing to work after the surgeries.

I was in neither of their classes in appearance, insurance coverage or job security to even compare myself to them, but still my dream of ever living as a transfeminine person would not go away.

Somehow, I needed to carve out my own individual gender path to success if I was ever going to make it. Finally, I learned the powerful message to just be myself and most of the rest of my problems in my male to female femininization would fade into the background. No, I was not extra attractive such as thedestiny transitioning transgender women that I knew but I realized that many of the ciswomen that I knew weren’t either. It was very shallow of me to think that all that went into to being a quality person as a woman was just appearance, so I grew past it. My focus shifted into having more confidence in myself as a good person that a stranger would like and away from just how I looked. When I did, my dream began to become a better focus. Maybe I could do it after all.

Of course, my major focus was what was I going to do with all the unwanted male baggage (and some of the wanted too) that I was planning on taking along on to my new life. At that point in time, my second wife was still alive, and she had made it a point to tell me she would never want to live with another woman, so I had to figure out what I was going to do about that major problem. Then I also had the usual conflicts we all face such as what we are going to do about employment and would any of our friends accept us.

For me, destiny came along and in one fall swoop showed me the way to living my dream. My wife passed away. Leaving me alone to consider my future about the time what was left of my close male friends died too. It turned out destiny was giving me a clean life slate to work from when I began to start all over. In addition, I was old enough to retire and work a little on the side to make ends meet and the Veterans Administration health care system which I was already a part of decided to approve gender related care or HRT for qualified veterans which I was. Destiny could not have shown me a better path to my dream than if I had planned it that way. I needed to pay my dues and work through many dark, lonely days to get to the light, but it was worth it when I did.

Finally, my dream became a focus for me when I met my future wife Liz and other ciswomen who let me into their world. I was able again to focus my dream on reality and make sure it was not a nightmare. Perhaps the best part of the entire trip up my gender path was the likelihood that I would ever make it. To say the least, my going forward was a shaky proposition to start with and all too often, my mental gender darkness threatened to catch up to me and my dream.

Thank goodness it never did, and my transgender dream became a reality.

Reality for me is also to have you join in with my thoughts. Thanks so much for doing so!

 

 

 

 

How Much Courage did it Take You?

 

Image from Jon Tyson
on UnSplash.

Often, I hear the words courage or bravery kicked around when it came to mentioning someone coming out of their closet into the real world.

In my case, I would have to replace either of the words with just being afraid of what would happen if I did not pursue my gender dreams of living as a transgender woman. Mainly because I was so self-destructive when it came to causing self-harm to my unwanted male self. I drove too fast and recklessly, drank way too much and even tried to actively kill myself once because of my gender dysphoria.

Especially after I had the rare chance to talk to my friends who survived brutal combat in the Vietnam War, I reserved the terms brave and courage for them. Because in many ways, I was just doing what came naturally when I cross-dressed in front of the mirror at home. It turned out staying in my own little feminine world was very easy until I began to want to see if I could stretch my luck and actually leave the house looking as close as I thought I could to a pretty girl. The only reality I did know was I was scared to death.

Little by little, my fear began to subside, and I wanted to expand my explorations to bigger and better venues such as the malls which were just beginning to come into their own back in those days. Still. I didn’t think I was brave enough to do it. Or was I just being stupid by risking losing everything that I worked so hard to build up in my male life. My ego dictated that I did not dwell on the stupid aspect of trying to femininize my testosterone poisoned body. I just wanted to blend in with the rest of the ciswomen I envied so much. As much as I was being abused by certain segments of the public, I began to use another term to describe myself and that was stubborn. In fact, I think that would be a great title to a new PBS show (Public Broadcasting System) called the “Stubborn Cross-dresser.”

As I continued on my gender path towards finally being allowed to join the girls’ club, my stubbornness in trying new things was both a blessing and a curse. A prime example was when I was trying to hang on to my teen fashion sense way too long. It was a curse, and my blessing came along when I became stubborn enough to keep going back to my cross-dressing drawing board until I fixed the problem and became able to blend in better with the women, I wanted to notice me. After the death of my second wife of twenty-five years, I was desperately lonely and did not want to attempt to build another life as a man when the possibility of building one as a trans woman was right in front of me. If I was brave enough to take advantage of a life I had only dreamed of. Was I going to take the easy way out and try to be a man again or build upon what I had learned as a novice transgender woman became my major question to answer.

Finally, I needed to “man-up” and be a woman as my second wife used to tell me and when I had the courage to do it, I felt a deep happiness in life I never had before. In fact the feminine privilege I found to be the most pleasant was the fact that I was allowed the opportunity to be happy. For the first time in my life, I was able to align my sun, moon, and stars so I did not have to fight a gender battle on two fronts which kept me unhappy and on edge. I positively loved my new life along with my first chance ever to just be happy with what I had.

If you are one of the many gender conflicted individuals trying to decide if and when you will make the ultimate choice to go for the gender border as a trans woman or trans man, my only advice must be, look deeply inside yourself for your answer. Your answer is there If you are stubborn enough to find it. Life is like an old merry-go-round and often it is difficult to slow it down to see the real world spinning in front of you. And if destiny puts you on the right path to do it, you can discover a group of well-meaning friends (ciswomen or men for you trans men) who can help you along. Making you a better person than you ever thought you could be. I would never have thought that the gender dysphoria that I felt would end up causing me so many problems in my life.

Before your life ends and you move on to whatever other place of existence you believe in, you have the basic right to be happy. You can deal in semantics and call your gender journey as being brave or having courage all you want but the end result is you being the natural person who you always should have been.

Somehow, we have been chosen to lead a different life’s journey than most of the others in the human race. Call us brave or courageous if you want but as a tribe, we are doing what we were always been destined to do. It is just too bad we are met with such resistance by haters in the world. As well as the gatekeepers who want to keep us away from our chosen genders. When I speak about gatekeepers, immediately radical feminist TERFs come to mind who have no business in ours.

Best wishes on your successful gender journey and summoning enough courage (if you want to call it that) to get out into the world and live your best life.

Thanks again to all of you who join me in my experiences, and I hope we can all learn from them. I apologize to all of you who have commented. I am a little behind getting back to you because of technical problems.

 

 

 

 

 

Gender Affirmation Day

 

Image from Ava Sol
on UnSplash.

Recently, I had a rare opportunity to meet and enjoy the company of a small group of family for breakfast which I like to call a gender affirmation day.

Precisely, there were four of us including my daughter, son-in-law, my wife Liz and myself. For the morning, I chose a breakfast only small chain venue which we had never been able to go to before. Since it has been a while since I have seen daughter and son-in-law, I was very happy to see them. In addition, I have three grandchildren who did not come since they are adults now and have their own lives to attend too. Plus, the oldest, is a nuclear engineer and lives in Maine and the next two in age (both boys) are traveling in Japan. The youngest is some sort of a bio-engineering student at “The Ohio State University.”

Getting back to my experience, I was dressed very casual in my favorite jeans, new OSU T-shirt and comfortable tennis shoes to face the world at large in a place I had never been to at all. Plus, I did put on some light makeup and partially tied back my increasingly long hair. We were lucky enough to beat the Saturday morning breakfast rush and got a seat as the place was filling up. As I always do, I try to find out if anyone is paying any extra attention to me as Liz and I made our way to our seats. Nobody did except this pesky kid (boy) who would not stop staring at me after we sat down close to where he was sitting. Through it all, I managed to ignore him until his family finished eating and left before we did. Leaving me to completely concentrate on my food and the pleasant conversation that was going on.

As I always point out, being transgender in my daughter’s extended family is not much of an anomaly after all. The nuclear engineer in Maine is trans and my first wife (who is my daughter’s mother) has a transgender man cousin. Diversity runs in the family, whether the naysayers, which are a few, like it or not. My first wife’s in-laws are very redneck conservatives, the same as my ex-communicated brother’s. So, I have not talked to him in over a decade.

My daughter was and is one of my strongest allies and used me as an example to all three of her kids on diversity in the family. She has always been by myside during my male to female feminization journey and I love her deeply for that and how she turned my out-of-control life around when she was born. As a point of reference, she will be fifty years this year and I am trying desperately to come up with something special to do for her but she I like most all of the other ciswomen in my life, they do not have a grasp on what they did for me.

Since now, I spend so much of my time isolated from the real world and because I have mobility issues, I don’t have a chance to match wits with the public anymore and face people such as the pesky kid who would not quit staring at me. It is a good thing he was not sitting at an angle where Liz or my daughter could see him or there could have been some sort of an altercation about having manners. That would have been bad because I am used to fighting my own rare battles. As most kids do, he got bored and turned his attention back to his breakfast. Per norm, is mom was too busy on her phone to be paying any attention to her kids and at least they were not screaming.

Since my daughter’s world is so busy with work and acting as a home care person for her mom, it is difficult for us to put together the time to get together, and I can take advantage of a powerful shot of gender affirmation. Because I can still benefit from it so much and I have always been just me to her and the rest of her extended family no matter what gender I was living as. As a matter of fact, it took me longer to adjust to them accepting the authentic me than them to me. One of the reasons was because the pressure of living an unwanted life was over and I was free to be happy. They knew me better than I knew myself.

More than likely, I won’t have to wait as long as I did this time for another shot of gender affirmation from person who went through my transition with me because my daughter has access to many old pictures of my family I need for my book I am writing for them about my life. She lives in Dayton, Ohio about an hour away from where I live in Cincinnati so it’s not like we live right around the corner from each other. Plus, her big birthday is coming up on Labor Day, so perhaps we can pick up the photos then and if her mother-in-law throws a big party, there will be more gender affirmation for me to selfishly enjoy. Maybe my second wife was right, my gender struggles were all about me.

In many ways, gender affirmation is just another term for having an extended period of gender euphoria. It is just another way of saying that I need to be relieved of my transgender insecurities because they run so deep. Maybe it is because I was forced into that male box, I wanted no part of for so long yet eventually learned to master in so many ways. Or me just wanting to be a transfeminine person was so difficult for me to accomplish, I could never forget the struggle and still bear the scars from him fighting me for control.

Regardless of my insecurities, I still try to keep them hidden around my supporters and do my best to show my appreciation for the gender affirmation they have given me.

 

 

 

Open Up, I am Coming In!

 

Image from Jason Hoehne
on UnSplash. 

During the many years I have written my blog, I always have been careful to give credit where credit is due, to the ciswomen who helped me go behind the gender curtain.

Initially, I thought most of the women interacted with me because they were curious about what I wanted to do in their world. But lately I wonder if how I acted had anything to do with it. What I mean is, by that had anything to do from the point I had reached on my gender path as I transitioned from cross-dresser to transgender woman. As I had reached the point of meeting the women who showed a casual interest in me, I had already taken my appearance and movement levels as a woman to a higher level. I did not have to worry about any of that and could concentrate on the matter at hand, communicating with mostly other ciswomen.

When I did so, I was not giving them a chance to wonder who I was as I was not coming off to the world as a clown in drag anymore. I was announcing myself as a person who wanted to be let in behind the gender curtain. Something I had dreamed of for years. By the time I was behind the curtain, I felt so natural that there was no way I was going back. I thought, open that curtain, I was coming in and you couldn’t stop me.

That was the point in my life I could put my potential male aggressiveness behind me because I found more women were willing to help my gender cause rather than hinder it. I encountered very few negative TERF’s or radical feminists who rejected me totally as some sort of self-imposed gatekeepers to the feminine world. So, my very fragile confidence as a transfeminine person was rarely questioned, and life went on. Basically, how I wanted it to.

It was about that time also that I began to learn all the nuances of a woman’s life I would need to survive in it when I jumped into playing in the girls’ sandbox. Somehow, I needed to prove I was not the terrible woman my second wife always called me after the fights we had about me progressing from being a cross-dresser to a transgender woman whose next step was being approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT. The only clue she gave me was she was not talking about my appearance as a woman. Thankfully, even though my feelings were hurting deeply, I needed to somehow figure out what she was telling me. It took me years, but I did.

What she was talking about was I did not have the basic experiences of a woman yet to build a new life as a trans woman. I was stuck in quicksand trying to get the feminine experiences I needed when no one would help me get there. Finally, I decided I needed to find out for myself if I was ever to not being a terrible woman. There were two labels I rebelled at in life. The first that early on I could be called mentally ill because of my gender issues and the second was that I made a terrible woman when I was clueless in what that meant.

The good news was that later in life I learned both were wrong and I escaped my own brand of quicksand and was finally able to leave most all the male baggage behind I wanted to lose and use the rest of the blocks to build a solid future as a transgender woman. Perhaps it was easier for me to build a new feminine life because the weight of my old life was behind me and I was happier. Humans are like sharks and can sense when blood is in the water with another unhappy toxic person and ciswomen are especially good at it. I think they sensed with me that I was honest in my path, and it was OK to open up and let me in.

Ironically, the only real problem I faced was concentrating on taking the old “don’t mess with me” male scowl that I had perfected over the years off my face. The last thing I wanted to do was to come as far as I had in my male to female femininization project was to ruin it all with a simple facial expression.

When I made it to the point where going behind the women’s gender curtain was not going to be a problem, I needed to make sure I was not screaming open up, I am coming in to anyone. That would have been like announcing my arrival in a woman’s restroom. I learned to do it with a small smile just like the other women do in the most sacred of women’s only spaces.

Now that I have made it through the major obstacles of feminization, I learned to evolve myself into the person I always dreamed of being. I escaped all of the quicksand of a gender transition by staying on my feet in my heels as I needed to be quite selfish at times to make sure I stayed in my deadly serious gender game. It was nothing I was ever happy about but on the other hand, I was stuck in pure survival mode looking for the best way out.

Whatever you want to call it, surviving a gender struggle is no joke and all the transphobes need to walk a mile in our existence to discover just that. In the meantime, you may just have to use the “Open Up” on them to let you in.

 

 

Imagine your Dream

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

 

It's Your World to Live In

 

Image from Gabriel Silverio
on UnSplash. 

When it comes down to it, it is your life to live and no one else’s. But life comes in the way.

The problem is often for transgender women and transgender men, it is easier said than done to live our own lives. Especially for those of us who had to wait until later in life to go after our dreams of transitioning into a feminine world. Perhaps, you were like I was and called selfish for my one-sided obsession about even seeing if my male to female dreams could ever become a reality. My second wife was fond of telling me my cross dressing should not be all about me.

The longer I pursued life on my new transfeminine gender path, I realized she was right. In order for me to move ahead in a world which felt so natural to me, I had to be selfish. It was the only way I could make the difficult decision to take a leap of faith and try to jump the gender border.

Back in those days, the only thing I could hang my pantyhose on were the annual Halloween parties I was going to dressed in my feminine finest. During these early parties, I learned a few of the basics I would need to survive as a trans woman later in life. Such as how visibly trained the human animal is to the genders, and if I was to go to the feminine side, everyone (male and female) would be noticing me. My new visible role in the world took some time and effort to get used to, but I did finally do it when I learned to dress to blend with the other ciswomen around me. It was my life to live, and I was coming closer and closer to deciding how I wanted to live it.

Before I did, I discovered I still had a whole lot of living to do before I made my decision. The problem was my male life on occasion was not that bad. Which gave me false hope that I could save it. All it did, as I juggled two genders at once, was to make my life a mental health hell as I struggled to maintain any sort of life I wanted. On one side, I had the increasingly financially successful male self-making it harder to give up all that he had earned and the male privileges which came with it. Struggling with my feminine side which felt she was in a more natural position to thrive. The end result was whatever decision I made just had to be the right one. With so much at stake in my life, I needed to go back to being very selfish with myself to make it.

In the meantime, I went into a heavy experimentation period of my life as a novice transgender woman. My goal was to try to live every moment that I could discover what a ciswoman has to go through in her life. So, I could tell if I wanted to do the same thing. I wanted to be more than the “pretty, pretty princess” that my second wife always called me when she was trying to make fun of my femininity to learn what she was really talking about. It was a struggle, but eventually I did by setting up my own version of a transgender bucket list of things to do. What did a ciswoman know that I did not became my main goal in life when I shed my male clothes and went out in the world as a trans woman. Overall, my plan worked well for me except the times I tried too hard and ended up in redneck bars where a single woman should have not been to begin with.

I did so much, I wore out my bucket list of obvious things to do and began to examine the difference between male and female privilege in society. Losing my male privilege brought about no real surprises such as having my intelligence challenged and learning to be more careful with my personal safety. While the main feminine privilege I felt was the freedom to be myself in the world and went way past just having doors opened for me by men. Needless to say, I was in love with the whole path I was on as a transfeminine person and could not wait to get back to it anytime I had to leave and go back to my increasingly unwanted male life.  I was stubborn but then again, I slowly realized I could never go back to the life I had lived before. No matter how successful it was.

As I reached the age of sixty, I could put it off no longer no matter how stubborn my male self-had become. When my second wife passed away from a massive heart attack, he was left with no allies in my life to fight with and was done. I had paid my cross-dressing dues by doing the best I could with what I had to work with appearance wise and had gone out of my way to experiment with how ciswomen live by putting myself in actual situations in life which I could expect to happen. After all of that, I just needed the final push off my gender cliff, and land in a world of my own choosing. Without a perpetual balancing act.

In other words, I guess you could say I went too far in paying my own dues during the approximately fifty years it took me to lead a life to discover who I always was. I decided long ago tt was too late to cry over what I did or did not do and to look forward to the time I have left in the world. At the least, I found living a life on both sides of the binary gender border was as scary as it was interesting. How many other humans get to experience what a transgender women or transgender man gets to see in one lifetime.

Sure, we experience our ups and downs but so does everyone else and we can have such an interesting path to claim a life which was always meant to be ours.

HEY YOU! Thanks for joining me in my journey and commenting or clapping for my posts. You make it all so worthwhile.