Somewhere between Heaven and Hell

 

Image from Sara Kurfess
on UnSplash

Very recently I received a comment from "J" asking me about my experiences coming out to my immediate family. After giving the comment some brief thought and I came up with this explanation, my coming out to family was somewhere between heaven and hell. 

To begin with, I had it relatively easy coming out since most of the important members of my family who needed to know anything about my transgender issues were not around. My parents, as well as many of my uncles and aunts had all passed away, leaving me only my daughter and my slightly younger brother to tell my truth to. 

The heaven and hell came in with both of these two close family members, it seemed as if destiny was showing me both sides of coming out. To begin with, I chose telling my daughter first at one of our breakfast meetings we often scheduled to catch up with our lives. One very nervous, scary morning, I chose to tell her I was indeed transgender. I will never forget her reaction which initially was a resounding why was she the last to know. Keep in mind by this time in her life, her Mom was long divorced from me and her Step Mom (my second wife) had recently passed away. So I guess she resented neither one of them telling her the depth of my gender issues. It certainly wasn't their fault because even though they knew I was a cross dresser or transvestite, even I resisted the idea of me possibly being transgender. In the meantime I was trying my best to hide any feminine desires I had from the rest of the world. Evidently, I did a good job and I was also amazed the cross dressing subject never came up with her. When she asked me why was she the last to know, I had no answer.

From then on, she gave me more support than I could have ever asked for. My daughter initially offered to take me on a shopping trip which I politely declined and then since my hair had magically grown to the point of being able to be professionally styled, she offered me a styling at her upscale spa and salon for my birthday. A gift I just couldn't turn down and after conquering my fears of going to the salon, I learned why women were so in love with their salon visits. I loved mine and I was in heaven. To the day, "J", my daughter has provided me with the heavenly acceptance I needed to make my male to female gender transition so much easier.

Now, the hell part comes in with my brother and his extended family. As luck would have it, I told my brother just before Thanksgiving over ten years ago. I wanted to know if it was OK if I attended as my authentic self or not. Before I asked out of respect, I knew the answer I would be given. My brother's in laws were all right wing leaning Southern Baptists, many of whom I always argued with during family get togethers. 

After some brief discussion with his wife, my brother sold me up the creek and said essentially it would be better if I did not attend the only family get together we planned for the whole year. The dinner was always the most important get together for my second wife and she did all the cooking a preparation for it for years after my parents passed away. So the rejection hurt a lot. I moved on quickly and haven't talked to my brother since. Which describes the end of my hellish experience of coming out to family.

Plus, I was lucky, I had my wife Liz and my daughter's extended family step in to fill the holiday void. And, I turned out better in the long term. 

I don't know, maybe destiny just wanted to show me the heaven and hell of coming out to family. While I didn't have the quantity of people to come out to as being transgender, I certainly was able to experience the quality of seeing both sides of the rejection/acceptance spectrum.

Thanks for the comment! I hope my experiences help. I value all your comments and questions! 

The Final Payment Became Due

Image from Blake Wisz 
On UnSplash

For fifty plus years I put off the inevitable, I was born to be a woman. 

I put it off for years by making partial payments to allow my male self to exist. Slowly but surely my gender currency ran out and I needed to make a change before the process killed me. As I made payments, I needed to decide (or try to) just exactly what it was I paying for. Similar to so many, I spent years believing I was engaged in a harmless past-time of just wanting to look like a girl. All along, deep down, I knew the process wasn't working because the problem was never solved. I would dress in front of the mirror and for a couple of days following, I would be satisfied with myself but then the satisfaction began to fade and life became hell for me again and again. My natural response was to keep making payments to put off the truth of my gender aspirations.

After awhile, even I learned how to better my appearance so I could escape my dark lonely gender closet and explore the world. In many ways, during this time, I considered myself a very serious cross dresser or transvestite. There was no way possible I was just innocently pursuing being a feminine person. I was going all out to get my money's worth by starting to interact with the public. In fact, I was beginning to feel as if I would be more comfortable labeling myself as transgender since I was making all the payments. 

It was about this time when I started to scrape together all of inner collateral I could find to take bigger and bigger chances in the world. I began to go to straight and lesbian bars and left the so called safe gay venues behind. By doing so, I met a whole new set of surprisingly accepting people I could associate with. In other words, I was getting my money's worth and I wanted more and more. To do so, I needed to become increasingly creative on how I spent my time. So, I began to do activities  such as Christmas shopping as well as doing a portion of the grocery shopping for the house. Any thing to experience more of the world as my authentic self. 

Through it all, I could finally see the end to all my gender payments. Several friends who I mention often helped me build confidence in myself. And sadly when my wife passed away, the main obstacle to transitioning into a full time transgender woman was put behind me. Even still, seeing the possibility of making the final payment was not an easy one to consider. I had worked too long to succeed in a male world for it to be cast aside easily. 

Finally, the powers to be said no more payments and with considerable help, I made the final gender leap of faith. Out went the old unwanted male clothes and I set out to take what I learned and make the most of the process. It was at once exciting as well as terrifying but I made it. All in all, the final payment was a relief when it was due.  

Running with a Different Pack

 

Image from Omar Lopez
on UnSplash

Back when I was living as a faux macho male, I used to be a fan of the "Big Dog" stores and was fond of using certain terminology they used to harass other store managers who were in competition with me.  Such as "If you can't run with the Big Dogs, Don't jump off the Porch. Even my second wife made sure she had given me several of their shirts. 

Little did I know later on in life, my idea of running with the big dogs would radically change. Once I started to seriously undertake a male to female gender transition did I understand who the big dogs really were. The true alpha or "big dogs" were really women. Quite quickly I realized women had to carry the weight of society on their shoulders. Women led a multi-layered complex existence which often included the burdens of raising children and holding a full time job at the same time.

To survive, I needed to learn quickly how to be accepted and be invited into cis-women circles where I found how different communication was between the two primary binary genders. It was no wonder men and women didn't understand each other. On occasion I was even asked to explain my idea of why a couple wasn't getting along. I was flattered but was at the same time a little scared I would give the wrong advice and set their relationship back even further. At the same time, I am sure none of the other women in the circle realized how much I was learning from them. After all, I was being given an once in a lifetime chance to play in the girl's sandbox. All I had to battle then was an extreme case of "impostor's syndrome" which kept questioning my right to be there in the sandbox at all.

I was fortunate also in that the circle of women I was included with were very strong individuals. What better way to learn my way in an exciting yet scary new world was there. Being able to run with the new circle increased my gender transition timetable immensely and made the whole dream of living as a fulltime transgender woman a distinct reality. I had assembled the role models I needed to move forward when they all accepted me.

The final problem I needed to face was living up to all their expectations of me. Or, what was the new person I was just becoming turn out to be. Could I be the person they expected me to be when I was still learning so much. The professional football game I was invited to was a prime example. Here I was, with my ill fitting wig and all trying to enjoy such a different experience. I had been to many games as a man but never as my true authentic self. Thanks to Kim for the wonderful time!

The final chapter in "Running with a Different Pack" has yet to be written. I still will have the final chapter to write. Hopefully it will be another smooth one once as I face the very real possibility of assisted living later in life.