A Little Success Goes a long Way

 

Hair by JJ Hart. Bead Work
by Liz T Designs

In the life of a novice transgender woman or man, a little success can go a long way. Mainly because very few of us are blessed with the natural gender characteristics of the gender we feel is truly us to get us started.

At that point, we must feel our way along. Sometimes submitting ourselves to abuse from the public as we go forth in the world for the first time. In my case, I make no secret of the many times I headed back home in tears after being laughed at to my face in public. Somehow, through it all, I was able to catch and enjoy brief moments of gender euphoria to keep me going to a distant dream of possibly living a life as a full-time transgender woman. Of course, I did not have any idea that I actually could do it.

I was fortunate that practice made perfect (or close to it) as I was able to improve my makeup and clothing skills to where I could survive in public when I left my mirror. Which I discovered was one of my biggest problems because it had the tendency to lie to me when it came to my overall appearance as a woman. Too many times, I went out thinking I looked great and then had the world slap me down in laughter because of the mirror. Plus, my male ego was giving me the wrong impression of how to look as I attempted the sexy look when I was in my thirties not in my teens. There could be no shortcuts in being able to present myself well as a trans woman, I would have to concentrate harder on my makeup and wardrobe than anything I ever tried before. Just because I was trying to dress sexy and show too much skin would not work in the real world if I was to blend in with the other ciswomen around me.

Finally, success did come to me as I haunted the thrift stores in my area for just the right fashion to attempt to flatter my testosterone poisoned body. It turned out I could not attempt to test my success until I left the gay venues I was going to and tried to go straight with my public excursions. The gays did not care how I looked and just viewed me as a drag queen any how so I was wasting my time until I discovered how I could make it or not in the big sports bars I was used to going to as a man. When I followed my three-step method of acceptance, I had no problems being accepted. My three steps were to put my fear behind me and smile, never cause any trouble and tip well earned me the right that every regular had. Especially the one I cherished more than anything else, the right to use the women’s restroom.

With my success came responsibility. I needed to be on the alert for other strangers who wanted to talk to me. Especially ciswomen who were curious about why I wanted in their world. Success in my communication skills led me to learn more about living behind the scenes as a ciswoman than I ever though I could. My primary example I always use is how women use the power of nonverbal and passive aggressive communication to get by in the world. Especially when it comes with dealing with men. It was very difficult for me to learn the basics women use to live but as I did, a whole exciting new world opened to me. Perhaps the best part of it all was that it felt so natural, so I knew I was on the right gender path in my life for the first time.

My success then began to go a long way when I discovered a small circle of women friends I could socialize with on a regular basis. I was always a social person anyway, so the fit seemed fun and natural to me as I gained the confidence I never had before when I was a solitary, lonely cross-dresser. And the best part was, I was having the opportunity to learn from the other women around me about knowing how it really was to interact with the world as a transgender woman rather than how I always dreamed it would be. Needless to say, I learned a lot.

I looked at my whole experience as paying dues as I went from being laughed at in public all the way to having my own set of ciswomen friends to socialize with and even marrying one later in life. Ironically, it was my wife Liz who convinced me once and for all to put my male self behind me, give away all my male clothes and start gender affirming hormones. Which I had always considered the next logical step in my male to female gender transition. It turned out, hormones would be the great “aha” moment in my life as the femininization process took hold. It was as if I should have always been on the hormones because the process felt so natural. The changes went way past the external softening of the skin, breast and hair changes all the way to all the internal changes such as emotions and more.

For me, success took a long time coming, and early failures at passing in public made me very timid. Once I made it through all of that, success came more naturally to me. All the way from just leaving the house cross dressed to HRT, my life became a blur of changes. Sure, the battles I needed to fight came at me fast and furious because I was so embedded in the male culture but I was able to fight my way through them and be successful as I discovered a little success went a long way and kept me going along my gender path towards a life I had only dreamed of.

Alone in a Crowded Room

 

Image from Bruno Aquirre 
on UnSplash.

I often refer to the days when I was first going out and seeking clues to my true identity as going out to be alone. I called it that because I had not yet met any regular acquaintances that I would have called friends on a regular basis. So, I was surrounded by a group of strangers no matter where I went. Even so, it was better than sitting at home by myself staring wishfully into the mirror.

Following leaving my painfully shy days behind me and becoming a rather social person, I did miss the interaction with the public. Going out alone was the only recourse I had which brought up several other problems. One of which was if I did present as a successful woman sitting by herself at a busy bar, always invited trouble because I was so out of place. It was during those times that I used my cell phone as a prop. In essence signaling to people, I was waiting for someone to arrive and join me. Plus, in the cold winter months, I could place my coat or jacket on the seat next to me to act like it was occupied. Both of which helped keep away any unwanted advances from mainly intoxicated men. On the other hand, other intoxicated ciswomen did not count, and I welcomed any of their advances which completely outnumbered men. Mainly because the women were so curious about what I was doing in their world.

Another problem I had was a huge case of impostor syndrome I suffered from. No matter how nice the stranger approaching me was, somehow, I felt I did not quite belong in the new exciting world I was in. It took me a while to get adjusted to the fact I was succeeding in a life that I had previously only considered a dream. I also still considered myself a rank amateur because of how I was able to conduct myself as a new transgender woman. I knew very little about how ciswomen communicated in the world away from men and it showed. For the longest time, the little nuances women use to communicate escaped me. Forcing me into shutting down and just listening to others and sometimes coming off as a standoffish bitch. Which was the last thing on my mind to happen.

I began to move away from being a stranger in a crowded room when I began to have enough confidence in myself to move forward. I was no longer just an virtual impostor just observing the world to jump in and inserting how I felt about things and people around me. A word of warning though, it took me a while to get there. Too much trial and error before I gained the confidence in my own unique form of womanhood which differed from many other women around me but at the same time, was still as complete. Sort of.

It was not until I began to build up my own circle of friends who happened to be mainly lesbians did, I began to relax and truly enjoy myself. I was no longer an imposter but now a full-fledged participant in my resurgent social life. Probably the only mistake I made was when I did not realize how different two of my friends were who I kept inviting to our impromptu meetings at sports bars and lesbian mixers. I was still naïve to the lesbian culture and did not realize the differences between a so-called gold star lesbian and one that had been with a man. I had one gold star friend along with another who had been previously married with three kids, so on occasion sparks did fly. In the meantime, I was off in my own little world jumping at the chance to be a wing person for one of my friends and trying to set her up with another woman at the mixer. It never worked, but I had a fun time trying.

The best part was I was no longer a stranger in a crowded room. I was becoming a full-fledged participant and loved it. The only problem I was having then was my new feminine life was starting to seriously force my hard-earned male life into an early retirement. A retirement he was so not ready for. Often the gender conflict I endured was mental and brutal. I did the only thing I knew to do and that was to internalize my feelings and move on. Which was the last thing I should have tried to do. My male self-wanted to keep me being a stranger in a crowded room so he could have his way. What he did not count on was, the more I worked on my dream gender life, the bigger and more accepting the room became.

The more I think about it, the more I think my male self-wanted to keep my female self as a kept woman. Validated by him only. Eventually, my transfeminine soul won out and he needed to face the truth. He was always part of living a lie in my life. Since my impostor syndrome was for the most part gone, it was the last remaining significant part of my life for him to cling to.

It felt so good to no longer just to be going out to be alone and know I would have the chance to meet my friends or even make new ones. Because I had hid my true self away for all those years, my transgender dream self could not wait for a chance to live and express herself in a crowded room.

 

 

Loneliness

 

Image from Engin Arkyurt
on UnSplash. 

Growing up as I transitioned from my unwanted male birth gender into my feminine one, often I was intensely lonely. The mirror was no replacement for real people.

Since I was still in the pre-internet generation, I found it impossible to reach out and socialize with any others with similar gender issues. I mean, how strange was it that I wanted to be a girl anyway? To make matters worse, the thought of who I should be dominated my daily thinking. I separated myself from the rest of the world my age. I lived in a rural area with very few friends to start with, so I had very few potential friends to begin with. To combat my problems, I did the usual male reaction and internalized everything since I had no choice on coming out to my parents.

It wasn’t until I learned of the “Tranvestia” publication and Virginia Prince that I learned there might be a light of my gender tunnel which was not the train. I learned maybe an entire life of loneliness was not in store for me. I eagerly read of all the other pretty transvestites in the pages who managed to even stay married and have a career. Life went on for me in the 1960’s and then, all of the sudden, I had bigger problems ahead than wanting to be a girl. At that time, the draft for the Vietnam War had me directly in its crosshairs, with very few alternatives to consider. One of the main ones was what I was going to do concerning my gender challenges. Somehow, I knew the drill sergeants in Army basic training were not going to allow miniskirts as part of the uniform.

Making the best of a bad situation, I enlisted for three years to attempt being included in the American Forces Radio and Television Service and thanks to a couple contacts I developed with my congressman, I was fortunate enough to make it and left home for my three-year tour.

In the Army, I was anything but lonely and my confidence as a person increased, but at the same time my inner woman suffered. I resorted to my old habit of daydreaming of what I would do to make myself the most attractive woman I could following my military discharge. I even dreamed of which new car I would buy to show up my fiancé who deserted me when I had to join the Army. Instead of receiving mail from home from a girlfriend or lover, all I had was me and the letters I received from mom. The forced teamwork activities of basic training kept my mind off my basics for the most part. Was I a man or a woman. Certainly, basic was no place to figure it out. I needed to be the best man I could be to get by.

Time went by and I was awarded a spot with AFRTS which in turn, kept me out of most of heavy-duty Army duties. I was sent to Thailand, then Germany so I was able to see and sample two other cultures. Courtesy of Uncle Sam. Best yet, I was able to fight off my loneliness and even met my first wife and mother of my child in Germany where she was also serving at the time.

I suppose you can say I became quite self-contained as a person by the time I was discharged by the Army. I even went as far as coming out to my closest friends as a transvestite and my mom when I arrived home. I was successful with my friends who did not care and rejected by mom who wanted to send me to a psychiatrist. We never mentioned my gender issues again until she passed away. Sadly, she never knew (or accepted) she had a daughter instead of a son.

When I entered the time of my life when I finally learned and embraced the idea, I was transgender, I entered an entirely different set of being lonely, primarily because everything in my life was in question including my sexuality. I quickly discovered on the nights I went out to be alone, I was attracting much more female attention than male. Which I loved. I just needed to be careful where I went and who I talked to being a single trans woman alone. After a couple of close calls, I started to take more precautions and became safer.

I finally emerged from my loneliest period of my life, which I call my dark time, with new women friends and even a new wife in my life. Who I am still with to this day.

Sadly, I still carry the scars of my lonely times in my life, and I am still very guarded with others. I have a regular reader by the name of “Georgette” who wrote in and said our transitions never end. I am sure my transition from my lifetime of loneliness will never end either. But as far as the entire transgender community as a whole goes, I know I am fortunate.

Going Out to be Alone?

Every once in while, or especially after the transgender - cross dresser support group meetings I go to, I like to reflect back to the early days when I was exploring the feminine world. Overall I was trying to figure out when and if I could live full time as a transgender woman.

Back in those days, for the most part I was having fun. These days I receive satisfaction from the rare days when I think I look my best. I know years ago when I went out, I liked to think I was going out to be alone.

Let me explain. First of all, I was still grieving the passing of my wife and close friends. I was intensely lonely but was aware any or all of my forthcoming friendships would have to revolve around me as a different gender. Not an easy thing to do.

Liz and I's vacation picture from the "Royal Gorge" train in Colorado.

So I cross dressed all up and went to several of the sports bars I used to go to before as a guy. For the most part I was successful. For awhile I was able to spend an evening in my own little world, thinking no one would notice my secret. It worked when I let nobody in.

As it turned out though, that didn't work very long. I found several people who were attracted to me as a friend regardless of my secret. Essentially, they found a way into my solitary world. Ironically, the people most interested in me were all women and I quickly bonded with them. I did have a couple dates with guys which never seemed to work.

Then I even went on several on line dating sites and found the person (Liz) I was destined to move in with and start a relationship which now is going strong at eight years.

Even at that point, I was still clutching at what remained of my guy self. He just didn't want to let go. It took my partner Liz to kick me totally out of the closet.

So now, I don't have to worry about going out to be alone anymore. I am so fortunate.