Fight or Flight?

 

Image from Anna Deli
on UnSplash.

As a man, fight or flight became very important to me. Primarily because I needed to become the protector of the loved ones around me and myself.

To be clear, I was never much of a physical fighter, but as I grew into manhood, I was not shy of confrontations either. I could use my size and or male knowledge to back off most potential opponents. For the most part, it was a straightforward proposition. Rule, or be ruled.

Of course, when I transitioned from my unwanted male life into a new exciting feminine world, my idea of fight or flight needed to dramatically change, before I got hurt.

Not too long ago, I had a question from one of my readers asking me what the most important male privilege that I lost was. I replied, the loss of my personal security. I found out quite quickly how dangerous men can be to women a couple times right after I transitioned and left myself in compromising situations around toxic men. I was fortunate my second wife was around to bail me out the first time and I was able to spend my last five-dollar bill to pay two guys off to leave me alone on the second. The best five dollars I had ever spent! (There probably should be something to the effect I was cheap but not easy brought up too!)

All kidding aside, escaping these situations taught me valuable fight or flight lessons. Gone were the days of out bluffing other men in potentially harmful situations, and in were the days of planning ahead to stay out of situations which could cause me trouble. Keep in mind also, I was spending most of my time out to be alone in those days, so I as completely alone as a transgender woman. If I passed as a cisgender woman, was I in better shape than if I was read as being a trans woman. There was no good alternative, and I always kept flight ideas in the back of my mind if I needed them. I think one of my biggest paranoias was having some bigot sneak up on me from behind and pull my wig off. Which never happened.

Through it all, I suffered from not having a girlhood to grow up in where I could learn the lessons all cisgender women know. Such as doing their best not to find themselves in dark unlit parking lots alone. Following my close call on a dark city street outside two gay venues, from then on, I had a trans man friend of mine walk me to my car to be safe. It was a different experience to be sure for me, but there was/is safety in numbers when it comes to leaving your male safety privilege behind.

When it comes right down to it, your fight or flight chapter of your gender workbook needs to be filled out quite quickly. I know several transgender women who carry weapons in their purses for protection. Even though I was infantry trained on weapons in the Army, I choose not to arm myself because of the fear of shooting myself. My wife Liz and I have talked about the possibility of buying pepper spray as a deterrent, but we just don’t really go anywhere where we could be in danger of using it. So, we have not acted on any moves to arm ourselves yet. Plus, Liz went through some intensive martial arts training several years ago which she could use. There is a plan for us to use if we have to fight in an increasingly toxic world in which I am just about totally worthless at the age of seventy-five and with mobility issues. Ironically, I have experienced yet another full circle moment in my life as I have gone from a fight-first mentality, all the way to a flight first priority. I guess it comes with the territory of being a senior citizen transgender woman.

Whatever the case is for you, please be careful in whatever path you choose to go as a transfeminine person. Just use your new feminine wiles to help you stay safe just knowing it is a possibly toxic world depending upon where you live. I have an on-line acquaintance who lives in rural Tennessee who has been slowly coming out in the recent months, and by sheer willpower, she has chosen to stay and fight for her existence. It takes a lot of courage to say to one of her neighbors who threatened her job by saying she was transgender, to get over it, but she finally did. And she still kept her job, so it is possible to fight instead of fleeing. As I said, just be careful if you do it.

I think the worse bigots to fight are the Bible thumpers who want to quote scripture to you. I am far from a biblical scholar and can never remember a rebuttal to use when and if it ever happens to me. It never has because I would have to fight not to flee the situation.

 

The Same Old Road

Image from Danijel Skabic
on UnSplash. 

Quite early in life, I grew tired of the same old gender path I was on. Although I could not exactly put a finger on what was wrong with me, I knew something was. What is that definition of insanity? When you do something over and over again and have the same results, I think it is.

Also quite early, I thought I was the crazy one because of my deep-seated desire to be a girl when I was being forced into being a boy from birth. Little did I know, I was destined to become a late gender transitioner in life and must deal with my own form of insanity for fifty years, before I had the courage to do something about it and get off the same old gender road I was on.

As I traveled, it seemed like I was getting better than ever at finding every bump, curve and pothole along the way. Possibly, I was attempting to make my male to female journey even harder, just to prove I could do it. As I like to say, my gender workbook was blank and everyone around me could tell it. Plus, when I first began to get serious about trying out my feminine self in the world, the only outlet I had were the annual Halloween parties I went to. Early on I tried to dress sexy/trashy and then after a couple of years built myself up to trying to present as a cisgender woman at the party. Which surprisingly I was able to do way back when I was still into Halloween as my outlet from the same old gender road.

The best part was, I was able to locate side roads along the way as I was able to present better in the world as a transgender woman. The side roads enabled me to explore different rabbit holes and dead ends to see if I could survive in a new exciting environment. When I had the courage to do it, the road actually smoothed out for me, and I enjoyed myself more than I could ever dreamed I could. Even with all new gender euphoria I was experiencing, I still had to be more careful than ever that I did not crash and burn my male life…yet. I still needed him and what he could provide such as all the male privileges he had worked so hard to earn.

One way or another, I was definitely not on the same old road as I continued to experiment with living as a transfeminine person. I made mini bucket lists of the new things I needed to accomplish each day as a transgender woman and set out to do them. The list could be as small as working on a more feminine walk, all the way to going to a new venue I had never been to before as a trans woman. More often than not, I found the world accepted me as just another woman and did not really care. The whole experience was a confidence booster and enabled me to travel roads which were not the same old ones I was experiencing as a man. One of the main road twists I always mention was when I was able to escape the gay venues I was going to and finding other lesbian or straight venues which supported me.

Suddenly, I was having so much fun choosing all the new roads I found, I had a difficult time deciding where I was going to go. I never thought I was any good at road building until those exciting days when I was finding myself in the world. Some nights, I even felt like I was on some sort of a feminine interstate highway with all the interaction I was having with cisgender women I ran into. Sadly, I finally needed to slow down before I wrecked and burnt myself out, but not before I experienced more than I ever thought I could. My dream life was right down the road, if I could just reach it. I stopped, looked around and I found, all those years thinking I was crazy because of my gender issues were wrong, and I should have listened to myself long ago and I would not have to gone down all the rabbit holes I went down and then being stopped at dead end streets to prove to myself I was still the man I never was.

I was never good at auto mechanics as a man, and it showed when I tried to keep driving down the same old gender roads. As a transgender woman, I was able to take the pressure off driving down the same old roads.  

 

  

Come Out Swinging

 

Image from Chase Li
on UnSplash.

Often, I write about running home to dress in my skirts and put makeup on to hide the failures I was feeling as a male.

My plan worked well until I discovered I was advancing so far and so quickly as a novice cross dresser or young transgender girl, I was unknowingly destroying my hiding place. Someone turned the light on in my closet and suddenly I had nowhere to go. I needed to come up with a plan to come out swinging or I was doomed. In addition, I still had to be very careful not to be caught and end up in a psychiatrist’s office declaring me mentally ill. Then I would really have nowhere to hide.

The better I became at the art of makeup and dressing myself, the more I needed to consider what I was doing and wondering if I should come out swinging at all. The problem continued to be, I was building more male privileges in the life I was living. My life was like shadow boxing myself as I sought out answers. Like most of you, I was risking a lot as I came closer to pushing all my life’s chips to the center of table and betting it all on the fact I was a transgender woman all along.

Then I went into my highly recommended experimentation years of my life. In order to have any sort of an idea if I wanted to live as a transgender woman, I needed to walk a mile in my new high heeled shoes. Those were the scary yet exciting nights when I escaped the gay venues I was going to and began to attempt to establish myself as a regular in lesbian and other straight venues I was used to going to as a man. When I did, I discovered I needed to make another transition from serious cross dresser to transgender woman exploring the world. To my amazement I was successful when I went to venues such as TGI Fridays and socialized with other professional women. Maybe I did not have to swing so hard after all to escape the dark confines of my gender closet.

To be sure, I still had setbacks when I came out into such a different world, but I had enough gender euphoria to realize I could live out my dream if I worked hard enough at it. At first, I suffered from the “what I thought a feminine life would be” syndrome. I was trying to put all those years of closely watching how women lived into actual practice without paying my dues in the world. While I resented the fact, no one would let me see behind the cisgender woman gender curtain, I was becoming a victim which did me no good in the short or long term. So what if I did not understand what I was doing wrong, I just had to figure it out and do better.

One of my major problems was solved when I finally came to the conclusion I was never going to be accepted as a cisgender woman, but I could find my own version of womanhood on my own path. That is when I started to wear only one wig, settled on one name and began to build a new serious life as a transfeminine person in the world. As I settled into a new life, I found that many people (especially women) appreciated my honesty in a world of fake people. I was surprised at all the female attention I received and was relieved I did not have to attempt to change my sexuality.

The more I changed, it seemed the more I stayed the same as my long hidden feminine soul took control finally. I was dealing with life on a one-to-one basis for a change without having to swing away all the time just to survive. As HRT hormones entered my life, it was just another example to me of what took me so long. My body took to the gender affirming hormones flawlessly and I was off to yet another transfeminine adventure. My age and hormonal status led me down a new road of dealing with confrontations, no more could I try to macho my way through trouble, I needed to take the feminine path and try not to get into a situation I could not get out of before it happened. Or no more swinging away for me. I needed to use my brain for a change.

As I have pointed out in previous posts, I was never a good athlete and could never hit a curveball when I tried to play baseball. I finally took it all to heart and quit trying to hit a curveball altogether and settled into watching the boys play baseball (and girls too) when I did not have to play. I was tired of banging my head against a hard gender wall and ended up where I always should have been as a transgender woman. I just wish I had not been so stubborn when I was doing it and had shed my male self-long before I did.

 

When Who You Are is Against the Law

 

Kim Davis wants YOUR Rights.

Yesterday, the spineless governor of my native Ohio agreed with the felon/pedo in chief tRumpt to send national guard troops to Washington DC.

The move was a stark reminder to me of how close we are as a nation to a fascist state with a dictator in charge. And, on the battle lines are transgender women and transgender men who at least here in Ohio have watched as our rights have been taken away by a heavily gerrymandered Republican legislature who prefers doing its dirty work under the late-night cover of darkness.

I am extra paranoid because I vividly remember the gay/ cross dressers being rounded up in police buses when I was young in Dayton, Ohio. I certainly don’t want those times to return for myself or especially for my transgender grandchild.

Especially horrific are the Caitlyn Jenners of the world who insist on supporting the regime in Washington. Obviously, they never really learned how it was to have their rights taken away. Perhaps you noticed, I refused to refer to Jenner as “she.” Recently, on a popular social media site I am on, a rather spirited (to say the least) discussion about cross dressers and transgender women. The moderator waded in with some sort of a statement that cross dressers cannot be transgender women and tied the discussion all in with the male privileges CD’s refuse to give up the way trans women have. Then used Jenner as an example. Being smart for a change, I stayed completely out of the fray. Almost.

I did use the example of the cross dressers and/or transgender women I knew who were strong orange felon supporters. I will never understand how they could throw themselves or the trans community under the bus and keep doing it. Their excuse was, he couldn’t be that bad. Well, he was.

Then there are the comfortable gay and lesbian tRumpt supporters who sat back in their shells and thought all the misery being brought upon the transgender community couldn’t happen to them. Now Kim Davis is back asking the corrupt supreme court to formally destroy the same sex marriage ruling the gays and lesbians celebrated so many years ago. Now their refusal to get totally behind the transgender community in our time of need is coming back to haunt them. It could and would be coming around again.

I know one of the problems with this post is I stereotyped too many people along the way. I know many in the gay, lesbian, and cross-dressing community who don’t support the sick felon and do support the trans community and that is powerful because we need everyone behind us in these desperate times.

Just imagine if you are a novice crossdresser trying to decide if you want to attempt to jump out of your gender closet and are afraid of being arrested. It’s uncomfortably close to happening in states such as Ohio. The midterms are coming and make sure you vote from your closet for the right candidates.

On the bright side (and there always is one), there are pockets of support in major cities around the country. If you are struggling, try to find a LGBTQ support group to help you come out. In the meantime, buckle up for a rough ride and stay safe.

Sorry for the rant, sometimes I just have to vent.

Female Privilege?

 

Is there such a thing as feminine privilege? Even though it is much different than male privilege, I think there is.

At first, the only privilege I could see in response to putting in all the work I was doing to present myself as an authentic woman was men would open doors for me. Ironically, opening doors for me was just a prelude to taking away my intelligence if they took the time to talk to me at all. Sort of like the tow truck driver one night who needed to explain the basics to me of how his wrecker worked before I gave in and just played the part of a dumb blond which matched the color of my wig, I was wearing that night when my car broke down.

What I was going through was losing my male privileges. The main one I always warn novice cross dressers or transgender women about is the male personal security privilege. Beware of going about your business as you had as a man when you jump the gender border because it could get you hurt. There is a reason women don’t go out alone into dark unsafe areas and you need to learn it too. You can get hurt, or worse if you have no one to protect you as a transfeminine person.

It took me awhile to realize there were many feminine privileges except for clothes and makeup. Like so many other things I was experiencing, I discovered the whole process was layered into the world of women as a whole. Much feminine privilege I found came from the separate world women create away from men. For example, to be allowed to play in the girl’s sandbox by cisgender women became much easier when and if I was accepted by an alpha female who acted as a gatekeeper. Much like when I was accepted in a venue I chose by a lead server or bartender. It was an easy way to earn the right to use the women’s room. All I needed to do was mind my own business and tip well and the alpha would do the rest.

At no point did I ever take the privileges or freedoms I had earned for granted. Because when I did, I would risk sliding back into the old male world I had come to dislike so much. There were many times when I sat alone and weighed the benefits of my new life to see if all the gender turmoil was worth it. On one hand, I was learning what my second wife told me I would have to learn about being a transgender woman, and on the other, I was scared to keep going towards a very steep gender cliff.

I suppose the biggest move I made towards learning what female privilege was all about was when I started gender affirming hormones or HRT.  As my body took to the new hormones as something it should have always had, as much as I appreciated the external changes, I appreciated the internal changes even more. My world rapidly seemed to soften as my emotional level increased for the first time in my life. I understood for the first time what women had gone through all those years in their lives. It was a privilege to try to erase as much as I could the effects of testosterone poisoning, which I had gone through so many years ago. As well as having the opportunity to go through my own version of female puberty while I still could.

The end result of my gender exploration was that each of the binary genders has their own privileges. It just is as if a man’s benefits are more pronounced, which is like a man’s life in general. As the man, I was for all those years, I was used to blustering and forcing my way through many situations I found myself in. Plus, I had very few real friends as a man which I could rely on to help when and if I found myself in a bind. Of course, women turned out to be different as I could rely on my cisgender women friends to help me in times of need. Which turned out to be mainly emotional, more than anything else.

After seeing both sides of the gender border, and having the chance to cross it, I made the right choice for me when I chose to seek out the real meaning of feminine privilege. Women certainly do not have it any easier, but I would take what I learned and feel secure in my choice to live in society as a transgender woman.

Why Not Me?

 

Image from Buddha Elemental 3D
on UnSplash. 

My life has been a series of why not me moments.

As a boy growing up in Ohio, I always wanted to be a better athlete, which turned out to be an impossible quest because there always seemed to be a better athlete in my world to take my place. Then there was my attempt to be more social in the world, but I was incredibly shy, and it was so difficult to do. So, I ended up hiding at home, thinking someday I would grow out of my shyness.

My greatest why not me moments came as I struggled with my gender identity. It became so bad with me that when a stranger asked me what I was going to be when I grew up, the only truthful answer I never gave was a woman. I internalized my thoughts and somehow hoped they would go away. Which of course, they never did. They just got worse because the main problem I had was wondering if I could do it at all. Information was incredibly difficult to come by in my sheltered male privileged world and for the most part I was lost, and I continued the path I was on. Doing my best to live a male life successfully, and at the same time, steal away moments of privacy to cross dress in front of the mirror.

Often, much to my surprise, I was semi-successful at both. I kept my increasingly gender fluid life in balance by improving my mirror image away from drag clown to beginning girl, while at the same time, keeping the bullies away from me by having an interest in sports and cars. I even went as far as dating a few girls in high school where I ended up attending both my junior and senior proms. Little did anyone know I wanted to be the one wearing the pretty gown and getting the flowers. As with the rest of my life, I got over it and moved on, no matter how difficult it was. Why not me was not working, I was still stuck in my gender quicksand and there was no handsome cowboy coming to help me out. Or strong woman as it turned out.

When I finally had had enough of being a gender victim, I opened my closet door and looked around for the first time in my life. I knew I needed to move past the once-a-year Halloween parties I was attending as my novice transfeminine self and try more ways to get out into the world to see if I could be successful or would my dream of life as a woman always must be a dream. I was ever so cautious as I began by shopping in malls and bookstores which turned out to be low impact areas for novice cross dressers or transgender women. I went to places where my money was more important than my gender which gave me the confidence to do more. More meant testing the public with new and exciting ideas such as stopping at restaurants to eat to see if I had any push back at all. I did not and moved on. Maybe, my why not me was coming true after all.

Sadly, dreams being dreams are not so easy to achieve I found out. Especially in the world of gender change. There was no way I could gloss over all the nuances of being a true transgender woman would entail. Many times, I ended up getting my new high heels stuck in more quicksand than I could have imagined and was fortunate to have found my way out, which I have written about in several blog posts. It occurred when I suffered the loss of male security privilege. However, by this time, I was able to take the good with the bad which was beginning to lessen, and I could see my dream being reality.  Which I had never thought possible.

For the first time in my life, I was beginning to live my why not me moments. I was at the threshold of living the life I had always wanted. Free from the male shackles which had tied me down. Sure, at times, it was unbelievably confusing to do, but with the help of a few women friends I always mention, I made it and was able to get out of the quicksand all together and rebuild my life.

Today, I am a woman who happened to come from a different background than most. But it was my dream to make it, and I did. As I said, I never thought I could or would.

 

 

 

 

When Being OK was not Good Enough

 

JJ Hart and wife Liz on right at Picnic.

I grew up in Ohio raised by greatest generation parents who lived through WWII and the great depression. Often, they were long on material support and short on emotional backing.

The main thing I remember from my childhood was, nothing was ever good enough. Take school for an example, while I excelled at subjects such as History and English, I really struggled with the Math and Sciences. Even still, I was expected to bring home straight A’s on my grade card every year. I had no excuses, especially when I went to high school where my mom was a teacher. She was pushing me hard for good grades to make it possible to get accepted by a good university.

I guess I became used to the pushing and figured nothing was ever good enough for myself and it carried over into my gender issues. Every time the mirror lied to me and said I was an attractive girl, I did not believe it and had to discover another way to prove it. Very quickly I learned I needed to replace the mirror with the public. Leaving my dark, lonely closet was the only way I could learn if I could ever achieve my dream of living a transfeminine life. It took every bit of courage I could muster to do it but if OK was not enough (by just standing in front of the mirror), I had to force myself into the world.

When I did force myself, it was like I was getting adjusted to a new pair of shoes. At first, I was tight and uncomfortable before I started to relax and began the basics of enjoying myself. I say I began the basics, because at every turn on my gender path, it seemed I was hitting a wall. Those were the times I needed to step back and decide if I was doing the right thing.

Those examples and failures proved to me I needed to keep going. Mainly because I felt so natural when I was pushing the envelope to leave my male self behind and live more and more as a transgender woman.

On occasion, proving OK was not enough and trashing the envelope almost got me into trouble. Mainly when I began to walk the fine line when I lost my male privileges. The most important being personal security. I was out and out lucky and escaped personal harm by men in the world. I wasn’t smart enough or experienced enough to sense the danger zones women are raised around. I learned quickly to park in well-lit areas or to ask for friends to walk me to my car. I did not want to be a statistic.

As I went through the process of living within the same parameter’s cisgender women have to face, I became a sponge of sorts. Nothing I did as I transitioned was ever good enough as my parents’ lessons oddly came back to help me. I was especially attentive when I went out to socialize with my women friends. They never realized what they did for me as I formed my own version of womanhood. In many ways I became a gender hybrid. It was impossible for me to leave decades of living an impacted male existence behind me, so I tried to take the good with me. For example, I was fortunate to have worked around women in the restaurant business for most of my life and I knew the trials and tribulations cisgender women faced in the world.

To this day, I have not shaken the idea of just being OK is just OK. I must be better just to be successful in the competitive world of women. I knew they could be competitive but not as much as I discovered when I finally had the chance to play in the girl’s sandbox. The whole process made me a better person in the long run, but it was surely difficult at times. Often brief moments of gender euphoria kept me going in my darkest gender hours. That was when I needed to provide electricity in my closet to give me the ability to see right from wrong.

Since my parents were my driving force behind my personality, I never had the chance to thank them for what they did. My Mom knew about my gender issues and chose to ignore them, and my dad never knew so I doubt if either would be pleased about their child raising outcome. They never knew how well OK was never enough worked out for me in my life.

 

 

The Big Risk

 

Image from Joshua Rawson Harris
on UnSplash.

When you jump from one of the main binary genders to the other. In my case of course it meant leaving all my hard-earned male privileges behind and move into a largely unknown world.

The risk was tremendous the farther I went along. Mainly because I was accumulating an increasingly amount of male baggage. Such as family, house and good job. At the same time, I was perfecting my transfeminine appearance, which encouraged me to move forward in the world. To be sure, I was involved in being tested with a double-edged sword. Or which way should I go? I spent many wasted hours trying to obsess over my future, which was still very vague. At that point I did not even know if I could even exist in a fully transfeminine world. On nights I was accepted by the public, gender euphoria told me I could. Then, on the nights I was rejected by the public, I thought there was no way I could ever live my dream, and it would remain just that…a dream. A dream which never would go away. 

Through it all, the idea of risking all my existence remained with me and naturally scared me to my bones. I was hiding away my biggest secret and even though I did internalize it well, it was a drain on my mental health. Which is a side story I tell often because it is something I think more transgender women and trans men can learn from. At least I hope so.

Something else, I don’t think the average person understands about us, is this is not a casual joke to us, and we just cannot stop putting on a dress on a whim. We are ready to risk it all to live an authentic life as our true selves. Free from our closets. The problem was at the end of a day out, most of us must go back to our old unwanted male selves (or female selves for trans men). For me, it was always a heart-breaking experience as I tried desperately to maintain my male façade for my wife and work.  The only alternative I had was to attempt to live part of my life as a trans woman and the other half as a macho man. It tore me up.

The entire process just became worse and worse when I began to carve out an all-new life in a feminine world. The more success I felt, the less I wanted to go back to my old life and began to research the prospect of living my lifetime dream. In fact, all I can remember all I really wanted to be when I was young was, I wanted to be a woman. Which of course, I needed to keep to myself. I was miserable as I felt as if I was the only boy in the world who felt that way. It took me years to learn I was not the only male in the world who wanted to be female and was prepared to take the risk to do it.

I was able to find a couple of real live acquaintances who took the risk, almost, so I could judge what it meant for me if I decided to follow in their footsteps. I say almost because one the transsexual women I knew was a very attractive retired firefighter in Columbus, Ohio and had a very good pension to live on. The other trans woman I knew was even more attractive in her own right and a very accomplished electrical engineer and would always find a job. I had a good job but not one which would carry over to a gender transition. So, I had much more to consider, not to mention neither of the women I mentioned were in a serious spousal relationship and I was. Right in the middle of a twenty-five-year marriage. I would later come to know how similar yet drastically different our transgender community is.

The pressure I was feeling to take the final risk continued to build. Aided by the success I was having in dealing with the public, I was encouraged to take the final risk in my life. At this point, destiny stepped in to show me the way. My two major stopping points were my second wife and what I would do for an income after I transitioned.

My wife tragically died, leaving me with one to speak of to object to me leaving my old life behind and beginning a new one. Then, by that time, I was in reach of being able to retire on early Social Security income plus what I could sell online. In many ways, the lightning did come right before the rain for me and then the sun came out. When it did, I could see my dream life had arrived and I could live how I wanted to.

 

 

 

Gender Participation Trophies

 

Image from Vicktor Forgacs
on UnSplash

In the gender world, there are very few participation trophies available to anyone for simply showing up. But are there?

Early on, before I decided to allow the public to award me participation trophies, I let the mirror do it and they were always right. I was an attractive girl when I wanted to be and there was a trophy for me to hide away with my belongings, or at least for me to mentally hide away from prying eyes.

In the meantime, my male self was attempting to win as many trophies as he could because he was not very good at athletics or whatever else he was trying. As hard as he was trying, total success seemed to always evade him. What happened was, both my binary genders experienced deep frustration, and I felt less as a person.

It was not until much later that I began to be successful and win a few participation trophies, specifically as a transgender woman. Her success though just created more problems for me as he feared she would take over completely, and what would become of all his hard-earned male privileges. There was a life at stake and could not be taken lightly. No cheap shiny participation trophies to proudly place on the gender shelf of life.

After I had learned the basics of blending myself into the world as a woman, I needed to be careful of the trophies which were being presented to me. I learned the hard way; not all women were forthcoming in their friendship and acceptance in their world. Many days with other ciswomen in the world. I thought I had won a participation trophy, only to have it passive aggressively pulled away. Quickly, I learned to be more careful. Life just wasn’t as easy for me when I had left the male world I was used to, and all aggressiveness was a frontal blow you could prepare for or retreat from. As with everything else, my life as a transgender woman was going to be more difficult than I thought. There would be no more running home to the mirror to hide. If I wanted to obtain more gender trophies, I would need to journey farther and farther out of my gender closet to do it.

The first inkling I could came on the night when I was drinking with a group of single professional women at a nearby TGI Fridays venue. As the bar area quickly began to fill up with women, nobody said anything out of the way to me, and I felt as if I fit right in. As a woman. I had known in advance to dress professionally, which helped me to overcome the fear I felt. So, I fit right in. When I safely made it home that night before my second wife did and removed my makeup, I gave myself a participation trophy. Mainly because, I knew I had crossed a line I could never go back to. My cross-dressing desires were much more than just a simple, innocent past-time. I knew deep down I wanted more as I pursued my own transgender womanhood.

More meant going back to Fridays and establishing myself as a regular, as well as other nearby competing venues which were happy to serve me and take my money as a trans woman. For the most part, I was compiling more trophies than I could count as I did more than surviving in my new world, I thrived. I learned too how difficult I would have it, if I continued the gender path I was on. Now, each trophy was harder and harder to get because each time I received one, it seemed the stakes were higher and higher. I was risking my twenty-five-year marriage, my family, friends and job, and I deeply felt the pressure.

At some point, I knew I would have to decide to throw out all my old male trophies and move on, but I was afraid to do it. I compared it to looking down at a steep gender cliff and wondering what would happen when and if I fell. All the trophies in the world would not save me but only real-world friends would.

Fortunately, I had those friends who had found and accepted me and made my gender landing very soft. In essence, all those new friends were initially trophies I cherished completely. They turned into the real thing over time, and I was able to carve out a life. Then I could throw out all my female trophies for good and live a realistic, genuine life as a transgender woman. My trophies became as fake to me as most of the people I met along the way, and I was able to throw them all away.

 

 

Back Up Plans

 

JJ Hart visiting Key Largo.

Following several near misses as a novice transgender woman out into the world, I began to smarten up and have back up plans when I was in perceived danger. 

After the near misses with security problems on dark streets where I should have never been alone, I hurriedly went home and looked to see if there was anything in my cross dressers handbook which would have alerted me to possible issues. Since I had a beginner's handbook, I found no such warning and because I had been raised male, I went on my way like nothing should ever happen. Well, it did, and I was fortunate to buy my way out of the problem with my last five-dollar bill. From then on, I learned my lesson and never went back there without an escort of some sort. Common sense had set in. 

Many other of my problems early in my public life as a cross dresser or transgender woman came from other less than intelligent decisions, I made on my own which set me up for failure. Such as the night when my second wife and I attended a diverse mixer in Columbus, Ohio. Against her wishes, I wore a very short mini dress with my long blond wig and ended up being trapped and nearly accosted by a much larger and aggressive "admirer" in a narrow hallway of the house we were in. My wife showed up and he backed off, giving her an ideal "I told you so" moment. From that experience I learned how helpless a woman could feel when trapped by an aggressive man. I went home and added it to my back up plans for the future and scribbled it into my mental gender notebook.

Other experiences were less stressful and even more humorous. One I will never forget was when I was tempting fate with wearing water balloons as breast forms. The double-edged sword of wearing the water filled forms was they were very fragile. Especially when I ignored the danger and made the balloons bigger. All went well, until the night one broke while I was out drinking in a venue, I was a regular in. I was lucky, when the mini flood cut loose, I was already heading for the women's room which happened to be deserted.  I was able to clean up, pay my tab and leave without further incident. I did not think telling the staff I was pregnant would have worked. When I arrived home, the water balloon breast forms became history for me, and I saved up for my first set of silicone forms. 

As the years flew by and I became more interactive with the public, I began to fill out more and more of my transgender workbook, complete with backup plans. I learned to be more cautious with my plans, allowing for more of the inevitable problems which would crop up. Even still, I was caught unaware on several occasions. One of which comes to mind when I was innocently chatting with another woman's husband when she went to the restroom. When she returned, in no uncertain terms, she made it clear I was not supposed to talk to him. My back up plan was to quickly leave, and I did.

I learned also, as I transitioned away from the male gender, very quickly I lost all my male privilege too. The old bluster my way through potentially dangerous situations went away. All of a sudden, I needed to look ahead and not put myself into those situations to start with became important. Many times, I needed to think if things could go wrong, they would. Before it was the same for my spousal relationship, I needed to begin coming home earlier so I could take off my makeup and clothes before my wife returned home from her night shift. Most of the time, I did make it, but when I did not, there was hell to pay. 

Finally, when I became freed up to live my transgender womanhood, I could store away most of my back up plans and move on. However, many of the plans I discovered were just part of being a woman anyhow, so I considered them a rite of passage. Other women grew up learning about the gender rules (right or wrong) and I needed to do the same. 

Once Your Eyes are Opened

 

JJ Hart, Club Diversity, Columbus, Ohio

In my case, once my eyes were opened as a transgender woman, I could never close them again.

Perhaps it is because I went through so many trials and tribulations to arrive where I wanted, or even desperately needed to be in my life. Since I had so few natural feminine traits to work with, I really needed to work hard to achieve a feminine presentation. I tried all sorts of ill-fated ideas before I ever got it right. Yes, it was me making the routine cross-dressing mistakes such as attempting to dress as a teen aged girl when I was thirty and had a testosterone poisoned body. All I accomplished was directing unwanted attention to myself. 

 It took me awhile to realize what I was doing, and my eyes were finally opened to what I was doing. The perception I had was I was dressing for men, when in fact, I should be doing the opposite and dressing for the women around me I needed to co-exist with. I learned the hard way, women ran the world I wanted to be part of, and I needed to do my best to get there. All of this meant I needed to keep my eyes open and do the best I could to study the women around me. Or how did the women react to the world around them, good or bad. 

Sadly, blocking my way were women such as my second wife who wanted no part of living with another woman, transgender or not. She was content with letting me learn on my own what women needed to survive in the world. Looking back on it, her process for me was the best way to go because once I learned something in my new transgender womanhood, I never forgot it. Also, magically, once I opened one door to my new life, my eyes were opened to another door. 

As I opened a new door, I knew I could never go back to my old male life which was bringing me down. I felt so good and natural in my new life, there was really no choice to be made. The only problem was what was I going to do with all the male baggage I had acquired over the years. Similar to most of you, I had the usual assortment of spouses, family, friends and employment to deal with. Fortunately, I started my transition process with the person who turned out to be the most accepting of all my family and friends. I am speaking of my daughter and her immediate encouragement helped pave my way to more attempts at telling the world about my authentic self. I ended up going one for two in the family process when I was roundly rejected by my brother and his family. He opened my eyes to what transgender rejection could really be like.

Still, I persisted, knowing I was on the right path and my eyes were not deceiving me. It took me awhile, but I finally gained the confidence to look another woman in the eye and communicate one on one with her. To do so, I needed to not concentrate on how I sounded and instead put an emphasis on what I said. In order to survive, I needed to keep my eyes open at all times because certainly every other woman was not going to be my friend. 

I did keep my eyes open and learned the hard way to keep my head on a swivel. There were many claws I needed to be aware of. Quickly, I was hardened to what the new world was like around me. More and more, I could never go back to the male privileges I had before. Even though, I lost much of my intelligence according to most men and especially lost my personal security, I still wanted more and more of my transgender womanhood. 

You might say, I acquired new 20-20 vision and it was perfect in many ways. It was a long and difficult learning process, but it was the best life I could have ever imagined, and I just felt I had done it sooner. 

Your Personal Best

 

Image from Markus Winkler
on UnSplash.

If you have ever worked in any sort of a competitive industry, perhaps you have heard a phrase similar to keep your eye on the ball.

Many times, in my long journey to being a full-fledged out and about transgender woman, I have wished I paused to remember such a goal. One image comes to mind when years ago I was trying to pump gas into my car at a gas station along the interstate when I was traveling back to Cincinnati to meet Liz before we were actually married. 

To begin with, I was a little flustered, even to the point of panicked when I discovered I did not have much money at all on my debit card and had no cash at all. As I said, I was nearly panicked and ended up pulling up to the wrong pump to try to fuel my car. For some reason, I had chosen a diesel pump and fortunately was having no success in putting the nozzle into my gasoline powered car. As I struggled, a man pulled up nearby and came to my aid by telling me I was at the wrong pump. I profusely thanked him and moved to the correct pump but not before I needed to go in the station and pay. Exactly what I did not want to do. I had no choice due to my mistake and needed to finally go inside and confess my mistake to a clerk inside who had no sympathy for the dumb person making the mistake. 

It was just one of many times, I took my eye off the ball and barely snuck by with a little help from above. Another time I remember was one night when it was snowing quite a bit, but I decided I needed to go out anyhow. With out giving anything much thought, I figured the night would be ideal to wear my new medium heel boots to give my fashion image a personal boost. All was going well until I went into one of favorite regular venues and found a seat at the bar. All along, I was confident I could slide down off the bar stool without falling. It turns out, I was overconfident as I tumbled very a womanly fall to the hard floor. I was lucky and all I hurt was my pride. From then on, the boots remained in my closet when it was snowy or even wet outside. 

Most of the time, when I was pushing the envelope and taking my eye off the ball, it was not because I was trying to do my personal best as a novice transgender woman. Even though I had established "safe" places I could go, I kept trying to go other places where I was not welcome such as the one lesbian bar I kept trying to go to. Unlike the other lesbian venue, I was accepted in (which accepted me), the first place tried to make my visit as uncomfortable as possible. Until I finally just stayed away and gave all my money to the place where I was liked. Once I did that, I could relax and enjoy myself.

I learned also, my personal best was not exploring the limits of where I should go as a transgender woman. It meant staying off dark urban streets by myself, or even unlit mall parking lots. I had not realized yet I had lost my male security privilege and needed to add a whole new level of security to my life.

Through it all, as I made my gender journey, I slowly learned how to keep my eye on the ball and do my personal best. Anything less, and I would revert back to my old unwanted male life and find myself back to where I started. Equally frustrating, was the fact I would have wasted all the time I put into pursuing my goals. I found my path and decided to stick with it.  

Running and Hiding

Image from JJ Hart archives,

I spent over a half of a century in my life running and hiding from the gender issues I faced all of the time. 

First, most of the time I hid my desire to dress like all of the girls around me. Of course, in order to accomplish anything, I needed to suppress any urges I had to be at one as a girl in the mirror. My Mom never knew how much she helped me in my early days of cross dressing. Before I outgrew her, I took advantage of wearing her fashion wardrobe, not to mention her makeup too. Much pressure to hide to be sure because if I was discovered, intensive therapy or worse would be in my future.

Also very early on, I ran to places I thought I would be safe. I hid a collection of clothes and makeup in the woods beside our house in the country. In my own world, I could escape my brother and family and briefly enjoy my small attempt at gender freedom. On other very rare occasions, when my family was not home, I escaped to the bathroom and applied my clothes and makeup which was an ideal time to see myself in the full-length mirror in the hallway.   

As I grew older and my male life became more complex, running and hiding became much more difficult. Plus, I had so much more to lose in my life if I was discovered. The more I ran from my issues, the more pressure I faced. What happened was, after I was freed from the restrictions of my military service, I was able to run harder hoping to free my gender issues even better. I changed jobs and locations frequently trying to outrun my life and for the most part was more miserable than ever before. I moved my small family to the suburbs of New York City, then back again to my native Ohio. Along the way, we lived in an old farmhouse in rural Southern Ohio and back again to urban areas such as Columbus, Ohio.

Sadly, it took me many years to understand all the running and hiding was doing me no good. The problem was inside me and could not be out-ran and was mentally exhausting.  Once I learned the solution to my problems were closer than I thought, my journey to transgender womanhood became clearer but in many ways no easier. I still needed to strip back all the layers of femininity and do my best to cross the gender border. I think now, the communications I had with the world as a novice transgender woman were the most difficult part of the journey. I needed time and effort to overcome the fear I had with looking another women in the eye when we spoke. For the most part, I just wanted to run and hide. 

Every time I did not run, I developed more confidence in myself. In other words, with the help of other cis-women friends I had, I found and embraced my own transgender womanhood. No longer was I stuck in an old male life I never really wanted regardless of all the privileges I had accumulated from just being older and white. 

Running and hiding just became too exhausting and demanding to continue with it. I finally gave into the pressure and began to live in my truth. What took me so long. I still wonder. My male life just wasn't so much fun and successful to continue. I consider myself one of the fortunate humans to escape the bonds my gender roots had confined me with.    

It is NOT a Choice

Image from Alexander Grey 
on UnSplash

I still get aggravated when someone says being transgender is a choice.

Realistically, why would I have ever chosen to live the life I am living. Would I have made the choice to give up everything I worked so hard to achieve just to put on a dress, makeup and heels and attempt to live a feminine life. All the material benefits I had acquired as part of my life as a white male privileges disappeared for good, if I wanted them to to or not.

Suddenly, I learned the hard way what it was like to have my personal security threatened as well as being mansplained when I attempted to insert my feelings on a topic I knew quite a bit about. Quickly I discovered many examples. I nearly found out the hard way, if I dressed too provocatively at a mixer, I would be cornered and harassed by an over bearing transvestite admirer. In an instant, I learned how it would be to be a helpless woman being overwhelmed by a much larger man. Not a pleasant experience and it was not all of my lessons. One night when I was blissfully minding my own business on a dark city sidewalk, I was approached by two sketchy men wanting a handout. Fortunately, I still had a lone five dollar bill for them and they went on their way. From then on my new feminine common sense began to grow and I started to develop the gender protective sense all women acquire as part of their life experiences.

None of what I was experiencing was a choice and not part of me being validating  myself as a woman. All I needed to know was I had no choice but to follow my path if I was able to look myself in the mirror and know I was doing the right thing. Coupled with the natural feelings I was experiencing, my supposed choice was made. 

I knew over a span of time, I would learn to deal with being mansplained was something I just had to deal with as a transgender woman. I will never forget the day I had to sit in a tow truck and be subjected to being bored when the driver was telling me how the truck worked. Finally, I gave him my best blond act until he finished all his rock bottom explanations. On one of my few dates with men, quickly I found I knew nothing about subjects such as sports and politics.

Why would I choose to be something as difficult as being a woman? My entire life became dedicated to proving the world wrong. I could carve out and experience a new life as a transgender woman and thrive. But again, I needed to prove all the naysayers wrong. The only natural feminine attribute I started with was my brain. Which for some reason, kept telling me I was doing life completely wrong because I was living it as a male instead of my more natural female. Finally, all the pressure to change and all the stress to explore the world as a trans woman. I was living in a world of alternate facts which was increasingly too complex to handle. I came to the point where I felt as an impostor when I went out of the house as a man. Can you imagine that? Feeling as an impostor when you attempt to live as your birth gender. It happened to me.

All the process proved to an outsider is gender issues are not a choice. During the process none of us understands, we are born into system we never asked for. The path is often a bumpy one with plenty of curves and stop signs. We have to wait our turn before we move on. 

For any number of reasons, the true number of transgender women and trans men may never be known. One thing is for sure, there are many more hidden transgender individuals waiting to take their turn and enter the world. Regardless of all the negative publicity we receive, transgender people have been around forever and will remain a part of the human experience. After all, we don't have a choice.

Did I Get it Right?

Out to eat with my wife Liz on left. 

I make no secret of the amount of major moves I needed to make to how I arrived to live my life as a transgender woman. Now at my advanced age of seventy four, I wonder if did I get it right.

Of course like most of you, I needed to give up much more than my unusual white male privileges to transition. Along the way, there were marriages/ spouses, friends, family and job losses to deal with. In other words, many sacrifices to make to follow my gender path. In other ways, destiny and years enabled me to transition to a feminine life. My one big deterrent was my relationship with my second wife who in no uncertain terms was telling me she did not want to live with another woman. In fact she made it abundantly clear she didn't like my woman self at all. Except when she needed help with her make up. What could I say? She was correct when she said she didn't sign up for all the gender issues she was now dealing with in our marriage. 

Most of you know she died suddenly from a massive heart attack. The tragedy freed me up to do my own thing. My own thing turned out to be I quickly turned to my own woman for comfort. I discovered almost immediately, I got it right as I was having the time of my life as I explored a new world as an out transgender woman. 

I also found I got it right when I discovered other women in the world who would accept me without having any knowledge of my old male past. When I did, I was able to really begin to live a new life of my dreams. I also did it right on how I was able to raise my daughter who ended up being one of my biggest supporters to this day. However, I didn't get it right with my brother and his in-laws who roundly rejected me. Sadly, by this time, most all of my very few real friends had passed away so coming out to many people was not a problem. 

So, by waiting so long to complete my male to female gender transition worked out right to me plus, even though I was not enjoying my old male life anymore, I still took advantage of the male privileges I would lose. It finally got to the point it was ridiculous to continue a life anymore split between the two major binary genders. The stress and tension became too much for my mental health to sustain and I tried alcohol to solve my gender problems.

I did it right and stopped drinking as much as I did before I permanently injured my body and when I moved to Cincinnati to live with my future wife Liz. Liz encouraged me to permanently leave my male life behind and live fulltime as a woman with her when she told me she never had seen any male in me at all. Even when I was trying to be.

Finally, I really did it right when I was medically cleared to begin taking gender affirming hormones. My body accepted the changes easily and I loved them. So all in all, I did it right when I decided to transition into a full time transgender woman. Destiny was leading the way the whole time and the only mistake I made was when I tried to get in it's way.

  

 

Life in Her World

Image from the Jessie Hart
Archives

Once I was preparing to live as a transgender woman, I needed to figure out what to do with my new life. . 

As it turned out, even though I had worked for years to figure out my ultimate gender puzzle, I found I still had a long way to go. When everything ceased to be in my mind and into the world, I faced the formidable task of rebuilding my life as a trans woman and leaving my male past behind. The first major problem came from my old male self accepting any of the idea at all. He kept reminding me of all the risks I would be taking if I transitioned. What would happen to my family, friends and employment if I entered my new exciting world. What I did for the longest time was attempt to live with one foot in one gender and one foot in another. Of course, my less than wonderful idea did not work and the pressure to move into her world fulltime became unbearable. I finally realized I did not have a choice and  I just had to complete my transition. I emphasize I had no choice because some transphobic individuals think I did. I would like them to live just a small time in a transgender life to permanently change their minds.

Another problem I had was the longer I lived in my new trans life, the more routine it became.  I found myself slipping back into my old male bad habits which were long gone. When my white, male privileges disappeared, I had no where to turn when life turned the tables on me. A primary example came on the occasions when my personal security was threatened as a novice transgender woman just learning the world. I discovered I could not just bluster or bluff away problematic situations which arose in the world. In many situations, like every other woman,  I needed to work hard to distance myself from the problem and try to learn from it.  Every time I slipped back into male mode, I was rudely reminded of what I did and quickly adjusted.  

Just moving around became a priority for me. I needed to unlearn the male walk and talk and learn to try to flow like a woman. I practiced everytime I could until I thought I had achieved a basic successful walk so I would  not look like a line backer in a dress. The whole process became easier when I finally realized I needed to put my male self away and adopt the feminine one forever. Without totally knowing it, I had moved away from my cross dressing days into a life in her world as a transgender woman. As far as talking was involved in the process, I write about the feminine art of communication often. As a male my habit of frontal aggression needed to go away as I found myself in a world dominated by passive aggression. All too often, I suffered the pain of claw marks on my back when I thought I knew what another woman was thinking or doing. Instead of making the first move in situations, I learned to lay back and let the other woman make the first move and then go from there.

Life in her world then became a question of how confident I had become. I came to realize even though another woman realized my path was different than hers, I still could be accepted as an equal. When I reached this moment of confidence, my life changed forever and I knew I could live the life I always dreamed of. In her world where I always belonged. 

In order to do so, I needed to finally trust my inner feminine soul to take over and run my life. She did a wonderful job since she had waited so long to do it. I was able to become a well rounded person in her world.

Mansplaining a Trans Girl

Woman being 
mansplained by Al Eimes
on Unsplash .

First, mansplaining to me is a highly insulting way to communicate with women and one I tried my best not to do before I transitioned into the world of a transgender woman. 

In fact I think I went out of the way to not mansplain anything to the women I worked and lived around. I hope now it wasn't noticeable and I was coming off as dismissal. Regardless, I did my best until I was admitted behind the gender curtain and was able to see how the female half lived. 

The problem was, I took so many years to get to the point of being allowed to look behind the curtain and play in the girl's sandbox. So I never quite understood what the mansplaining fuss was all about, until it slapped me one night in a regular venue I was accepted in. What happened was somehow I became part of a small group of men discussing a topic I knew a lot about, like sports. I was still new to the system and tried to interject my thoughts into the conversation. Just as I would have as my male self. To my surprise, I was rudely ignored by the men and I quickly left and went on my way. The whole process was another of my life changing moments when I was transitioning. 

I didn't know what I was expecting since I had seen mansplaining all my life from other men around me when they interacted with women. Why would I be any different? Well, I wasn't and the better my presentation as a transgender woman became, the more I was talked down to. It was like I had lost most of my intelligence and all my life time experiences in addition to other male privileges. 

Quickly I learned to play the game of being a dumb blond, which I was most of the time back in those days. A prime example came one night when my car broke down and I had to call a tow truck. As luck would have it, a well meaning policeman showed up to help and between the driver and the cop figured out the best route to get my car home without even asking me. I was infuriated until the whole evening declined even farther when the tow driver started to explain to me how his wrecker worked. on the ride back Finally, I relaxed and started to ask him questions about what his wife packed him for dinner and why were wheels round. (Just kidding.) But I tried to make the questions of my status as a woman for him which was obviously very low. 

Maybe I should have been happy I presented so well that I lost a main part of myself forever. I learned how women are really treated and prepared myself for other gender lessons. The main one I write about often is the loss of personal security I witnessed up close and personal when I transitioned. I learned to park in the most well lit and safest places I could with the shortest walk to wherever I was going, to name one important point. For the first time in my life, I was the prey when I was out in the public's eye and it was quite the change.

Slowly but surely on the rare occasions I needed to communicate with a man, I learned to draw from my personal experiences and understand where he was coming from. I waited for him to come to me and interject my ideas when I could as a transgender woman. By doing so, I was able to build my confidence back up in public. 

Today when I am mansplained, I take it with a grain of salt because I know there are plenty of women who reverse the process with their communication with men. I remember several nights when I was fine with talking to the woman in a couple I didn't know and having it all change in a flash when he started to show any interest at all in me. There was no womansplaining going on as I instantly knew where I stood. It also never took me long to understand all the non-verbal cues women use to signal each other. 

 It is one of the reasons both binary genders have such a difficult time of communicating. Upper level understanding of the genders is one of the rare benefits of being transgender and should be embraced. When you can do it, you truly have the chance to advance as a human. 

Transgender Pressure Cooker

Image from Jeshoots.com. 

When someone writes or says something about me being a transgender woman being a choice, I have to laugh. 

I'm sure those of you who have gone through life the way I have with gender issues would agree. Primarily because we have given up so much to cross the gender frontier. Primarily, I am referring to losing family, spouses, employment and gender privileges to transition. Just losing male privileges alone is a major issue. Very quickly I discovered I lost a portion of my intelligence when by accident I became involved in a conversation with several men. I found I was not respected in their world until I finally got tired of being ignored and left the group. Then I began to not speak much until I was spoken to until I began to gain more confidence. 

When I began to be successful, the pressure to be even better as a transgender woman started to increase. For several reasons, my fragile mental health became worse as I started to try to live a life situated between the two main primary genders. In other words, I was stuck in a gender fluid universe I did not want to be in. Living one day as a man and the next as a transgender woman, nearly killed me.  It became so bad I needed to make a conscious effort daily determining what gender I was going to be that day. How was I walking and talking were just a few of the many gender considerations I was going through as the pressure kept increasing. 

All of a sudden, I was able to establish a whole new identity as a trans woman. I was talking to other women and building a small circle of friends which taught me so much about the world I so much wanted to be a part of. I kept going because the process became so natural to me and very soon the main source of pressure came from having to return to what was left of my male life. Even thinking about going back caused me stress and added pressure. 

Finally, I knew I had no way around it and never really had a choice with my life. As a gender therapist told me so many years ago, there ultimately would be no choice for me if I was a transgender woman. Sadly I did not believe her and stubbornly went on to fight a losing gender battle for years before I gave up and faced my gender reality. By doing so, I tried very self destructive measures including suicide and excessive alcohol abuse before I started to live my truth. 

I had no choice and needed to give up all the pressure I felt to transition into a feminine world before it all literally killed me. Thank goodness for all the friends and family I had who helped me through my difficult pressure packed days. The more good days I had with them led to my belief I could live my gender truth full time. Ultimately transitioning was similar to sliding down a hill towards a steep cliff for me. I had others around me who took the pressure off and made the landing a soft one.