Macho Remembered

Image from the Jessie Hart Archives

 I don't think I ever considered myself as a macho guy but then again, there were times I needed to be. 

Those were the times on the football field, in the Army
or when I was at work when my macho image worked to my advantage. Mainly because I needed it to. In fact, on occasion, I came to rely upon it to do better in life. On other occasions, my main macho props were cigars and beer. 

Interestingly, when I transitioned, I discovered a new side of macho. Very early on when I was coming out as a novice transgender woman, I shied away from any contact with a man I felt was macho. I thought he would recoil at any interaction with me. Slowly but surely, I learned none of it  rarely ever happened. For the most part the majority of all men tended to ignore me  anyhow and the pressure to succeed went away. 

The biggest example I can recall is the time I developed a friendship with a big bear of a guy at one of the venue's where I was a regular. He was part of a small group of diverse people I met on a weekly basis. While I was part of the group, the guy also fell victim to an ill-fated marriage to another member of the group, a long dark haired beauty who also was a hair dresser as well as part time exotic dancer. As you most likely can imagine the marriage just wouldn't work. What happened was, the remainder of the group basically shunned him. All except me. I gave him a shoulder to lean on. What I neglected to mention was the guy owned a classic motorcycle. Even though I was never really a fan of motorcycles, I could appreciate the inherent beauty of the machine and I could pass along my ideas to him.

It wasn't long before he came into the venue and ended up setting next to me to talk. He was the first macho guy I became comfortable with but sadly he moved on too soon when he transferred to another lumber yard in a neighboring town. I never had the chance to hitch a ride on the back of his classic bike. From him I learned confidence in my dealings with all men. Including the first time I was asked out to dinner from a transgender man. 

Which leads me to yet another different attraction I always felt when I was with a group of lesbians. If you don't know, lesbians range all the way from lipstick women to super butch lesbians. For whatever reason, I never had any problem attracting to and relating to the super butch spectrums of lesbian women. I have never been shy writing about the time the super butch cornered me and strongly suggested I sing karaoke with her. I very poorly did it and took off before she had any other chances to talk to me. 

Oddly, my interactions with macho guys also extended into the male gay community. When Liz and I went to Mardi Gras several years ago we ended up in a gay bar heavily frequented by "bears" or macho bearded large men. There, as well as several Prides we went to, I had "Bears" smile and speak to me. 

Perhaps it all has to do with the aura I project. I lived such a long portion of my life attempting to survive in a male world, I still have an in-depth knowledge of the culture. Which doesn't explain the paranoia I always felt when dealing with men. Perhaps I will never lose my fear. 

Finally, what I also learned was many men who project as macho really aren't in the toxic sense and they are more secure in their masculinity. Which makes them safer for all women... Cis-gender and transgender. We need more non toxic men.

Was the Big Easy, Easy?

Image from Jade Photography 
on UnSplash

Several years ago, my wife Liz and I made the journey on a tour bus from Cincinnati to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. New Orleans is also known as the "Big Easy". 

As it turned out, the trip turned out to be anything but easy. It was a very challenging learning experience. Previously, Liz and I had gone on other bus tours with the same company which were shorter and turned out to be pleasant. The only main challenge which occurred was not being allowed to use the in bus restroom except in times of dire emergency.  Very quickly I learned the "pleasures" of standing in line with a group of other women waiting to use the bathroom. Often at a cramped state supplied roadside rest. After the first couple of times with the same women, I seemingly was accepted and allowed to do my very basic business without incident. I was relieved in more ways than the obvious.

The trip to New Orleans proved to be much longer with many more "rest stops". Again I didn't have many problems until the bus made it to the deep south and we stopped on the Mississippi/Alabama state line. As we joined the line waiting to go in, my nervousness increased. My feelings proved to be unfounded until I had to come face to face with two women after I paused to wash my hands. They took one look and me and glared and I thought here it goes. In response I smiled, dried my hands and vacated the rest room as quickly as I could. I was so scared I kept thinking a small town deep south redneck cop would be pulling the bus over looking for me. Fortunately, nothing happened and the bus then took us to the outskirts of New Orleans itself before it needed to stop for fuel. During the refueling stop again I needed to take care of business and hurriedly did it. Liz, however was behind me and took longer to get a stall, so I needed to wait alone for her. While I was waiting, I tried to waste time by looking at the truck stop tourist items like I was really going to purchase an alligator skull. My paranoia told me to keep moving as I waited for Liz and the Bus to get ready to go again. By having some sort of a purpose, I hoped to ward off any sort of unwanted advances by anyone. Which never came.

Once we arrived in the "Big Easy" the bus stopped at the big seafood restaurant with wonderful food. As I finished my meal, I excused myself and went to the restroom. While I was in there, another woman from the bus saw me and said something to the fact that I used "their" bathroom too. Since she was elderly and not overly negative, I chalked up the entire experience to education...for her. From the restaurant it was on to our fantastic hotel and the blur of an actual Mardi Gras experience,  I say blur because it is how I remember it. As a casual visitor I think being at Mardi Gras was a wonderful one time happening but a less crowded trip to New Orleans would be more enjoyable as I have been there twice now. Once as my male self.

Our trip to the actual event involved quite a bit of walking and pushing our ways through huge crowds, Plus the rest room theme raised it's potentially ugly head again as any restroom was difficult to find. We had to stop and eat off the main route to basically find a restroom to use. Before we knew it, the entire Mardi Gras experience was taken off the bucket list and we started our journey home. By this time my confidence was good and I had no more experiences to remember.   

Mardi Gras

 

Photo by Ugur Arpaci on Unsplash

Several years ago, pre Covid, my partner Liz and I decided to take a bus tour down from our native Ohio to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. We had done a couple other bus trips in the past so I was ready for the rest room challenges I would face...I thought.  

Very early on I learned  the toilet on the bus would be off limits to all except those in dire need. Which meant the bus would make scheduled stops at certain rest areas. My first learning experience came when I stood in line with approximately twenty other women waiting to use the bathroom. At the time I thought I never signed up for this but the first couple places we stopped were in rural areas, so everything went fine. So, at that time I started to gain confidence that no one on the bus would complain a transgender woman was using the wrong rest room.

On the way down to New Orleans, things began to change. The rest stops turned into truck stops and other stops along state lines in deep southern states. The worst by far came when we stopped on the Mississippi/Alabama line. I was petrified but had to go so I had no choice to join the waiting line of women. Even then, all went fairly well until I was coming out of the stall I used and came face to face with two obviously disapproving women. I tried to speed up the process and get my hands washed and leave the bathroom before I happened to run into those women again. I was so scared I was worried about a state patrolman or local sheriff pulling the bus over for a check. Fortunately nothing like that happened  and the bus rolled on without incident. 

Ironically, the only push back I received from anyone on the bus was when we arrived in New Orleans and stopped to eat at an upscale seafood restaurant. After dinner I excused myself  to use the Ladies Room and when I stepped in the door, one of the other passengers was washing her hands. She looked at me and said with a little surprise "Oh you use the same bathroom we do." She did not refer to the experience again and life on the bus went on until we arrived at our destination. A beautiful restored hotel within walking distance of Bourbon Street and the French Quarter. 

We then took full advantage of the two unplanned days we had to take advantage of the "Big Easy". Also most ot the pressure of using the rest room was  taken away. Until the night of Mardi Gras itself. Since rest rooms were at a premium, venues were requiring a purchase to use theirs. We did make our way through the madness of Bourbon Street to finally learn a couple of the venues we could eat and use the facilities at were just a block off the strip. One turned out to be the oldest gay venue in the city which we stopped at and the other a tavern which served food which had a patio style courtyard  where we could eat. 

Before it was time to turn around and go back, I decided to use what could only be described as an out house with a flush toilet. It reeked of sewer gas, so I hurriedly took care of business and started to leave. Of course when I opened the door, a line of women had formed on the other side. I felt bad if they thought I had caused the odor, but it was time to face the long walk back to the hotel. 

As far as the entire Mardi Gras experience went, I wouldn't trade it for the world but it is certainly designed for a younger person than me. It's definitely the party to go to if you are worried about presenting as an out transgender woman. Obviously nearly anything goes. 

Restroom availability and usage are a different story. At some point you are going to have to pull down those big girl panties and go for it. You haven't lived until you have waited in a line of women at a rest room. Mardi Gras or not it is a rite of transgender passage.  

The "Castle"

I remember when I started to transition into the feminine gender in public, one of the biggest misconceptions I had to change was the Ladies Room. I did know from my days as a restaurant manager the "room" wasn't the "castle" most men thought it to be.To be blunt about it, I encountered too many bloody messes when women couldn't be bothered to dispose of sanitary products properly.  Also over the years, I overheard much more gossip along the way than I ever heard in a men's room.

Slowly and sometimes painfully, I learned I wasn't always welcome in the "room" too. In one case I was screamed at and called a perve and even had the cops called on me in another. Fortunately, that was years ago and now I don't experience many problems (at all) and have really enjoyed the increase in gender neutral bathrooms. I think even though it has been over seven years since I have had a real issue, it only takes one person to trigger another problem. 

For another take on rest rooms and my Mardi Gras restroom post, here's Connie:

Woman's Room

"Been there - on the stinky restroom dilemma. One can't help but be a little embarrassed, and it's not like you can try to explain to the next person in line that it wasn't you.

It's been so many years since I've used a men's room that I am almost unable, anymore, to remember the difference (other than the urinals). I can say, though, that I was surprised to learn that the sounds and odors in the ladies room were worse than what went on in the men's rooms I had used for most of my life. Maybe it's because the ladies room is a refuge, where a lady can finally relax from all of the expectations that come with being one by the outside world. What goes on in the stall may not stay in the stall, but it still stays inside the ladies room - one hopes.

Considering what goes on during Fat Tuesday, it might be a good idea to avoid ladies rooms for a couple of days, anyway. I know that the traditional Cajun cuisine does a number on my system) :-)"

So true!

Off to See the Wizard

It's travel day with Liz today and a cold one at that. Wind chill temperatures are expected to "hover" around 20 degrees (F) today. So Spring has not sprung yet.

Today, I am going with Liz to her Doctor's appointment, to her office to pick up a piece for her computer (she works from home) and go to the drugstore to pick up her new prescription.

Unfortunately, we are not down in New Orleans for the annual Mardi Gras celebration. We were able to go several years ago.

As you can imagine, it was quite the experience. I remember quite clearly the transgender PTSD I still experienced when I went. Needless to say, that was a wasted emotion. No one remotely cared. The most embarrassing moment came as I was coming out of a women's restroom in a restaurant we stopped to eat at. The person who used it before me (to put it lightly) made it smell very foul. Unfortunately, the space was very small and it retained the odor quite well. I attended to business in a hurry and opened the door to a line of women waiting to use it. Needless to say, the first couple of women in line were not entranced with me and probably unfairly blamed me for the smell.

Looking back on the whole trip, restrooms seem to dominate. I also remember quite clearly having to stop at a road side bathroom stop on the Alabama-Mississippi border. Two women read me as I was leaving and I spent the next half hour on the tour bus wondering if a cop was going to pull us over. Nothing happened.

None of that takes away though from the wonderful party atmosphere of the whole event! I had been to New Orleans before (not on Mardi Gras) and my second trip did not disappoint either.

Road Princess

The reality of the last seven days was overshadowed by the place I was headed. I had no idea of what was to occur.
Let me lay out some details.

Photo by Liz T

First of all we were going down to New Orleans on a tour bus which is an approximate 12 hour trip on the road with nearly 20 other peeps older than even I. The good part of the experience is we were on a bus and the bad part was we were on a bus. I was able to spend mega time with my girl friend and see parts of the country I wasn't familiar with. Some of the country I want to see again. Some I don't. I had the feeling that parts of Alabama and Mississippi haven't seen many transgender folk. A bus rolling down the road doesn't present a problem but rest room stops obviously do. Also it's tough to blend with a group of 70 something women headed into a rest stop. Plus the first task was to win them over. I don't labor under any impression they viewed me as a card carrying genetic woman but I'm fairly sure the discussion over what I really was and my relationship with my girlfriend was. That of course didn't bother me and by the time the trip was over I was accepted by most as a de facto woman. Oddly, the acceptance showed me how far I have come down my transgender path and how far I have to go. I learned why reputable therapists and SRS centers want you to live as a woman or man before you go down a surgical path of no return.

On later posts (for all you statisticians) I will break down my perceptions of the public perception of me and no I didn't forget the basis of this all: Mardi Gras itself. I can only say the event is everything I thought it would me and more and so is the city of New Orleans itself. They do a fabulous job. Returning to the city itself reinforced how much I love the food, music and architecture. On the dark side, examples of the terrible devastation of hurricane Katrina are still evident. I can't vouch for other huge parties but I believe Mardi Gras lives up to it's reputation as one of the best. I'm far from a tour guide but I do have more than a couple ideas of how to navigate the area now and can't wait to go back.

I will use this quote often: "The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat" because it describes my trip. My girlfriend gave me a journal to jot down ideas and I have plenty to cover and they are coming up here in Cyrsti's Condo.

Home Again!

Just rolled back in from Mardi Gras.
I'm fairly sure I can write tons of words about the experience...and will.
Right now I can say the week was simply amazing from all different angles.
I am going to try to break everything out to attempt to make some sort of sense.
Basically the trip was a blur of switching genders in the deep south of the US...not just New Orleans.
Name it and it happened. Acceptance, non acceptance- stares and stealth all combined to make this a fun and sometimes scary trip. I would say once in a lifetime but starting a new lifetime would be more accurate!
Stay tuned!!!

Mardi Gras Countdown

Well, I'm down to approximately a week before my trip to New Orleans and Mardi Gras.
I believe I can post to Cyrsti's Condo  from my girl friend's lap top so perhaps I can document this "epic" journey.
Typically, people who haven't seen me for awhile or check in with an email ask me if I am going on the whole trip as a woman. Yes I am!
While questions such as that from people( I think a couple should know better) sometimes aggravate me but overall I know I'm still an educational process for myself and those around me. Plus they remember my "in between days". Trying to explain I don't wear wigs anymore is often the hardest part. Perhaps some people didn't know I ever did? Not many I'm sure!
My fashion plans are simple: concentrating on being as attractive and comfortable as I can be.
I'm sooo looking forward this trip and it is occasions such as this which make all the struggles I've gone through worth the trouble.
In fact the whole idea seems surreal at times and I sometimes wonder why I didn't start the transition process earlier. A couple days ago on another site, another "person of age" reminded me of the days of our youth when it was possible to be arrested for "dressing in the clothes of the opposite sex". So I guess that could have been a deterrent. Too late to cry over spilled foundation now!
I'm just happy to have lasted this long on this world and am fortunate to take off on yet another part of my transgender journey- which just happens to pass through New Orleans!

Countdown to Fat Tuesday!

As always, time is flying by and my trip to Mardi Gras is coming up in less than two weeks.
The trip to "Naw Awlins" will provide a number of firsts.

It's my first trip to Mardi Gras although I have been to the city a couple of times. It's my first trip to the city as a woman and the first time I have had to pack for such an adventure. Since I have never been one to shy away from a party, this is a big one!

Of course the packing part is providing the biggest challenge. I will be leaning heavily on my girlfriend for guidance!!!!
So far, I have made my hair appointment for a couple days before we leave and still have to schedule a time to get my nails done. Then I have to find a dog sitter for my constant furry companion and I'm off!!!
Of course I will keep you up to date.