Go Away!!!

 

Image from Military. Com

Well, the long arm of the felon running the country has reached all the way down into my life again, seemingly so soon after he got into office. 

Recently, the Veteran's Administration issued a new directive stating all healthcare for transgender veterans would be halted. For those of you who may not know, I am a transgender veteran who benefits from VA healthcare. Which means, I receive my gender affirming hormones from the VA. The meds are not free, and I pay a co-pay. In addition, for years, I took advantage of free mental health services which helped me immeasurably when I was beginning my transition. I was lost and needed the help. 

Of course, I was initially really upset that once again the felon attempting to run the country should be running my life for me again. At the age of seventy-five, I live a quiet life with my wife Liz and our two cats. I am not out to hurt anyone, so why should tRumpt be screwing around in my life. For sure, I knew it was coming when he was elected along with so many other politicians who used the transgender minority to raise false fears about us. After speaking to Liz, we immediately began thinking of ways to procure my hormones which made me feel better.

This morning as I began to research the directive, in typical government double speak, I read the VA would stop providing crucial care for new gender dysphoric patients. Which of course leaves me out but not all my transgender sisters and brothers who need help with their gender issues after being discharged from the military and I feel for all of them. Here is a statement concerning the problems which will be created by ceasing care:

"VA's rollback of crucial protections, specifically the elimination of Directive 1341, is a direct assault on the well-being of vulnerable LGBTQ+ veterans, jeopardizing their access to essential care," Rachel Branaman, executive director of Modern Military Association of America, said in a statement."

Every Friday, I attend a LGBTQ support group meeting virtually at the Dayton, Ohio VA, and this Friday I hope to find out more about this latest attempt to erase the transgender population. Already, the workers who are left in the offices have been told to remove all flags from their offices. Which as we all knew, meant all Pride flags. 

I hope to learn more then before I have a crucial May appointment with my Endocrinologist who dispenses my gender affirming hormones. 

In the meantime, you trans women who wrote in and said the felon would not be that bad are enjoying all the benefits of his lies. Even you cross dressers in your closet should beware. 

Born This Way

Image from Vonecia Carswell
on UnSplash. 

 I had no choice; I was born with gender issues which I would have to deal with my entire life.

It is also International Women's Day, so in many ways, the gender issues I did deal with intersect with each other. Along the way, I have received pushback about saying I was a woman at all which I understand. At first, the transphobes attacked me with the old broken argument that I could not be a woman because I could not birth a child. I simply pointed out, many females for whatever reason cannot or choose not to have children. Their choice certainly does not make them any less of a woman.

So, how can I claim Women's Day as my own? Mainly because I worked so hard to gain my transgender womanhood and it should be included with every woman everywhere. At the least, I can provide unique perspectives on my life. Trans women everywhere are fighting now for their very right to exist as women and should accepted as such. In fact, I had some good news-bad news from the VA where I obtain my gender affirming hormones about my future availability of the meds. In my Veterans Administration LGBTQ support group meeting yesterday, the moderator passed along the good news about the long reach of the current felon's administration. The good news was there would be no changes to transgender care, but the bad news was, it said for now. We all know that is not good news. In the meantime, I received my new shipment of estradiol patches this week along with three refills which are plenty to hold me over to my next endocrinologist visit in the early part of May. 

Back I go to the subject at hand. As I always mention, transgender women never had the girl's workbook to benefit from. We never had on hands advice or guidance from our mothers or from the other girls around us. We were left on the outside looking in. What it meant was, we really had to hit the ground running when we came out into the world, we had a lot to learn. Lessons in femininity were often swift and brutal. As I survived mine, I earned my way into celebrating International Women's Day and you should too. 

I sense from the comments I receive here on the blog; I have a wide range of readers from weekend cross dressers, all the way to post operative transgender women. The only point I am attempting to point out is, no matter where you might be on the gender spectrum, you still matter. None of us have a crystal ball telling us the future. For you cross dressers, sooner or later, you may have the chance to open your closet door and live a life you possibly just dreamed of. As I found out, never say never is a good quote when it comes to a possible later in life gender transition. Along the way also, I learned I had tons of knowledge of the world I could offer to other women. Because of my life masquerading as a man, I have a leg up on demystifying the male world for other women.

Even though transgender women may be the underdogs in the overall women of women, we belong in celebrations such as International Women's Day because we were born this way.

The Comfort Zone

 

My trans friend Racquel

As a transgender woman or a trans man, you often encounter major barriers when it comes to reaching our gender comfort zones.

We have all sorts of setbacks such as family and spouses, employment and potential loss of friends. Giving up the life we had been leading is never an easy decision to make. It's definitely more than just an easy choice which a percentage of people (or transphobes) think it is. For some reason, they think it is just a matter of transgender people putting away their clothes and returning to their birth genders. They don't understand how deep our experiences run. Along the way, we become very resilient in our journeys and for the most part, our tribe is strong.

We are strong, in part, because of the time and experiences we went through to reach our comfort zones. I know I had to endure stares all the way to out and out laughter in the early days when I went out and challenged the world. Catching up with all the years I lost not growing up as a girl really came back to haunt me when I had to struggle to catch up. No one taught me the basics of fashion and makeup. More importantly, I did not have the confidence I needed to move forward to even learn if my gender dreams could ever become a reality. Which was the most important thing to me.

Slowly but surely, with success, my time in the comfort zone came around and I survived. It was never easy. To this day, when we traveled to the Florida Keys recently, after all I had been through in my life chasing my gender, I still was very nervous about several things I would face along the way on the bus tour.  I did not know how I would fare as a transgender woman on a bus full of strangers. Especially when it came to having restroom privileges as we traveled through the deep south. However, I can't spotlight the deep south for its anti-transgender laws when my native Ohio recently has passed some of the most restrictive trans laws in the country. I guess you could say, I could run but I could not hide.

Quickly, my fears dissolved as the other women on the bus began to not so slyly question my wife Liz and I's relationship. The reason was one woman said to Liz, she thought we were sisters. Which really increased my confidence and put me in a comfort zone which would last for the rest of the trip.

My comfort zone expanded, and I was able to enjoy my new reality of acceptance in my transgender womanhood. Of course, it was all challenged when I caught Covid on the way back to Ohio and ended up in a suburban Atlanta hospital. I was fortunate in that I had my Covid vaccine three months before and my case was lessened in its severity. My three days stay in the hospital really challenged my comfort zone because I have never had any gender altering surgeries. So, even though the staff initially thought I was a woman, it quickly became evident I was still a biological male. Hopefully, I won't have to go through an experience such as that for a while again.

As we all know, comfort zones are fleeting and have to be earned. You need to be patient and do the best you can until your confidence as a transgender woman or trans man comes along, and you are finally comfortable in your own skin. 

Staying in your Own Lane

 

Image from Gabriel
Silverio on UnSplash.

As I transitioned into my own version of transgender womanhood, there were plenty of opportunities to not stay in my own lane.

First of all, I needed to get my presentation house in order so I could even receive a fair chance at starting. Paraphrasing "Stana" of "Femulate Blog" fame, in order to pass properly, I needed to first signal before I accelerated and moved to the outside lane. For me, acceleration was not an immediate or easy thing to do. Before I began to see any progress, I needed to put the mirror behind me and seek approval from the public at large. Once I was able to do that, then I needed to push away any of my ingrained male thoughts I was having on how I should look. He was leading me towards a totally trashy look which was attracting too much negative attention. If I wanted to stay in the feminine lane and be successful at all, I would have to change...quickly.

Once I began to be more comfortable and accepted in the feminine lane I was in, I needed to then learn all the nuances of the new life I had chosen. Immediately, the concept of passive aggression got to me. Too many times, I was fooled by another woman's smiling face or indirect suggestions. Examples included the times when I was complimented on how I looked. I was told how good I looked without the extra statement, for a man dressed as a woman. Regardless, I had too many claw marks down my back from encounters with women who I perceived as harmless. It took me awhile to learn the new lane I was in with other women. Once the scars healed on my back, I developed the knowledge and thick skin I would need to get in the passing lane and survive.

As I cautiously began to live more and more in my new gender lane, the more natural life became. I developed a whole new group of women friends and learned tons of ideas from them on how to stay where I was. The group of us partied into many nights and I discovered I was still messing up by trying to live in both gender worlds. I guess you could say, when the going became rough in the feminine lane I was in, I could always escape back into my male privileged world I knew so well. Finally, with the help of my friends who were primarily lesbians, they taught me my validation did not have to come from men, it could come from within. It was the only signal I needed to switch gender lanes and stay there.

These days, with the current political climate, we transgender women and trans men are trying to be forced back into our original lanes. It is in times such as these when we still have to be as visible as possible and live our lives as authentically as possible. As I have written several times, my own demarcation point of support is coming up in May with the Veterans Administration health care system. In May I have an appointment with my Endocrinologist and the opportunity to get my Estradiol prescription renewed. I naturally don't have total confidence the government won't step in and block my gender affirming hormones. I am sure, I will be writing about my fears as the date gets closer.

I am desperately trying to stay in my own lane which meant years ago I was able to live as the person I was always meant to be. At my current age of seventy-five, there is no way I am going back to my old lane I was unhappily living.     

Take Nothing for Granted

 

A night out with JJ Hart.

Last night, my wife Liz, her adult son and I went out to dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant. When we did, several questions came to mind.

I wondered of course if I would encounter any unapproving vocal fellow patrons who were protesting the mere presence of a transgender woman in the venue. Since we had been there many times in the past, I did not have much fear of that happening. Again, last night, nothing happened as I was treated the same as any other guest in the very busy venue. 

Then, I began to worry further about the influence of our current felon in chief and his attacks on illegals. I wondered what the Hispanic staff thought or worried about future ICE raids in Cincinnati which is considered a sanctuary city which should make it a target from the tRumpt goons. 

I had plenty to think about as we waited our fifteen minutes to be seated. As I people watched, I naturally wondered how many had voted for the felon. How could they? But, on the plus side, I was back out after myself imposed Covid quarantine. It felt great to be out and about and finally free from all the disease's evil effects. 

Everyone around us was minding their own business and we were minding ours. All the way to being addressed to as "ladies." Which is always very affirming. Through the entire evening, I was able somehow to put my election bitterness behind me and have a good time.

Hopefully, I did not overdo it and will have the opportunity to do it again soon. Also, I hope the masses who voted for the administration who is trying to erase all transgender people everywhere in the country will somehow feel the error of their ways. My personal paranoia date is coming up in May with my endo doc. Then, I will need a refill to my Estradiol hormones. Since I am under the Veterans Administration health care system, at any time I fear, the orange felon could reach out and try to cancel my care. We shall see and I will be forced to take it one day at a time.

In the meantime, I can take nothing for granted. It seems as if someone could always be coming for my back simply because I am transgender and I refuse to be erased. 

Survival versus Impostor Syndrome

Conch Shells

 Many times, during my journey into transgender womanhood, I have experienced my fair share of impostor syndrome when I was able to slip in behind the gender curtain.

Most of the time, my fight with impostor syndrome happened early in life when I was first coming out. It was so unfair when I had spent so much time and effort to perfect my feminine presentation, only to be rejected by my own thoughts. The syndrome was especially strong when I was invited to girl's night's outs or used the women's room. 

On our recent vacation trip, I am happy to say, I think the old curse of impostor syndrome went totally away. Since the trip in reality had very few men in relation to women, many times when we ate meals, we ate with other women. I knew I had it made when others asked if we were sisters. Sadly, the overall physical stress of the trip began to take its toll on me. The sicker and weaker I became, the only thing I was trying to do was make it home in one piece. No matter how hard I tried, Covid was stronger and ended up putting me in a hospital in suburban Atlanta for several days, until I could regain my strength and travel again. I have written before how my daughter had to drive down from Ohio to rescue us when there were no rental cars available. 

Again, survival became the priority over worrying about petty issues about what rest room I was going to use. The only time I wavered in deciding what rest room I was going to use was when we stopped at a little seafood place in Florida around the Everglades. There were only two restrooms to use, clearly marked male and female, so the line to the women's room was very long. After a short time, a few brave women began to go ahead and use the men's room, not unlike you are able to see if you go to any major sporting events. I thought long and hard about going ahead and using the male side but ultimately decided it would be a bad idea. Since I did not have to go that bad and did not want to destroy my perfect restroom record which has gone back over a decade, I decided to wait and use the women's room. 

As we waited for our boat tour of the Everglades, we had lunch, and I was able to order a first for me, Conch Fritters. So, I was able to cross another item off my personal bucket list. During lunch, we found a seat at a table with a couple and a very gruff man wearing an Army hat. He did not seem to want to talk much to me and even though I very badly wanted to ask him where he served, I did not. In some ways, impostor syndrome had set in. 

Of course, in the hospital, as I have written about before, pure survival on my part had set in.  All I wanted was to feel better and be discharged. There was no time to be worried about any sort of impostor syndrome at all. In fact, the whole deal I went through made my ancient worries about fitting in seem very petty in comparison. 

So petty, I wonder if I was ever the same person who was so completely into obsessing on my feminine appearance. Perhaps I needed that time in my life to grow into the transgender woman I am today. I was not aware there were going to be multiple transitions as I grew into my authentic self. Being a functional woman meant so much more than just looking like one. There were factors such as developing communication and personality skills also.

The Remainder of the Vacation

 

Hemingway House,
Key West

My wife Liz and I's vacation was wrapped up when my daughter came down from Ohio to Atlanta to pick us up.

We were desperate because we could not find a car to rent anywhere for a one-way trip. We tried four or five of the major leasing agencies with no luck. All of them wanted us to bring the car back to their store after we were done, which naturally did us no good. At this point, my daughter stepped in, took a day off of work and was on the road within hours to pick us up.

The trip from her home in suburban Dayton, Ohio to where we were in Atlanta was a six-and-a-half-hour trip one way. So, it was no small undertaking. Needless to say, the least we could do was pay for her motel room the night before we made the return trip, and the gas needed for the journey.

The main benefit to me, other than being able to return home was I was surrounded by the two most fierce gender allies of my transgender womanhood. I could relax, knowing they would lead the way in case I encountered any gender bigots or transphobes as we traveled through the deep south. Of particular need was access to women's restroom since I was prescribed my Spironolactone again to help reduce the increased swelling in both of my ankles. If you are not aware, Spiro is a diuretic which is a water pill which is also used to decrease testosterone in the body. Since my testosterone levels had been near zero for years, I quit taking the medication. As soon as I started the meds again, very quickly, restrooms became my best friend. 

As luck or experience would have it, I did not have any problems with restrooms at all. Especially, on the trip back when I was wearing a face mask to protect as much as possible, those around me from the dreaded Covid virus. I had forgotten how wearing a mask, precluded almost anyone attacking my authentic self. 

I was fortunate I received the Covid booster when I did, so I caught a lesser level of the disease which could have been very bad for me at my age of seventy-five.  As it is now, I am just now regaining my strength, and my congestion is beginning to lessen. 

Even with all the struggle, I am glad I went along on the trip to the Florida Keys, especially Key West. It was all I had imagined and so much more. It was a very diverse and welcoming place I will never forget. I just wish I had not worried so much about the trip beforehand.   

The Ultimate Gender Challenge?

 

Image from Alexander Simonsen
on UnSplash

As I was in an ambulance on the way to a strange hospital in suburban Atlanta, I was so far out of it that I did not much care about being mis-gendered. I just wanted to feel better. 

All started out well as the EMS ambulance drivers referred to me without fail as Mz. Hart or Jessie. At least their kindness made me feel as if everything would indeed turn out to be OK. Then I thought how being gendered at a medical center has to be unique transgender experience. When you have to face strangers as your most fragile self. 

For a while, I was secure in the fact I would make it through the rank-and-file medical personnel accepted me as a female patient. Until I came to the most intimate point of my admission process. It was the time I needed to strip naked and fitted for an ubiquitous hospital robe. It was then when I was fitted for one of those contraptions to enable me not to wet the bed. It turned out, initially I was given a female version then asked if I wanted a male one which fit me better later on. At that point, it was obvious to me, I was confusing a portion of my nurses and that was where my wife Liz came in. Whenever a nurse refereed to me as he, Liz would promptly correct them. 

Overall, my hospital experience went as well as could be expected. I had reached the point of no return since I had never pursued any sort of gender realignment surgeries for any number of reasons. Including my lack of financial opportunities as well as not having good enough insurance to even think about any major operations. By this time, age had set in, as well as a fairly comfortable lifestyle with a family who accepted my transgender womanhood. Plus, I always had an aversion to pain I could not overcome so I did not even pursue any beard removal work. My lazy way out worked well with close shaves over the years along with the effects of gender affirming hormones, until it didn't. Which deep down I knew I would have to face someday. 

Well, the time was upon me last week during my hospital stay when I was too weak to get out of bed for several days so I could shave. When I was finally released to be discharged by the doctor in charge of my care, the first thing I did was closely shave and apply some light foundation as I brushed out my hair. Needless to say, I could not wait to put my hospital experience behind me. In all fairness, nearly all the hospital staff was nice to us and were intrigued by the fact Liz and I were stuck in Georgia after our bus had to leave us behind. I think they were behind me regaining my strength so I could. 

One way or another, it was an extreme gender learning experience.  

Good News from the Doc

Image from JJ Hart.

Yesterday was my Hematology appointment at the Cincinnati Veteran's Administration hospital.    

The hospital itself is surrounded by other medical facilities mostly owned and operated by the University of Cincinnati, so space is at a premium which means parking spaces are also. Even though we have a handicapped placard for the windshield, sometimes spaces close by to the door are not close enough for me to easily walk to. Regardless, I was going to try to make it yesterday with the help of my new cane. Plus, in addition to the walk to the door, I knew my wife Liz and I were facing an equally long walk once we arrived in the hospital.

I was scared and was running on extra energy as we finally made our way to the medical department where the appointment was scheduled so we actually were there ahead of time. I was scared of what the doctor would tell me about my platelets being down again from my last bloodwork. Of course, then I began to read up on what it meant and Leukemia was one of the possibilities. Then I started to build all sorts of negative bridges in my head about my mortality. So my blood pressure and nervous energy was at an all tine high when I finally met with a medical team of three. One doctor and two other fellows, whatever that meant. I was hoping for the best and expecting the worst.

It turned out almost all my worry was for nothing . I had  what was called an iron overload in my body. I have had it before and it seemingly went away for years before coming back to haunt me. It used to be I needed to go for regular blood draws called "phlebotomies" which brought the iron problem under control. So instead of Leukemia, I have too much iron in my system again which can cause fatigue, joint pain and skin discoloration among more serious issues.

From the doc, I was then sent down a couple of floors to the vampires so they could do more bloodwork before setting me free. I should mention through it all so far I was treated with respect and was never mis-gendered. I was referred to as Ms. Hart or my first name all through my visit to the VA hospital...until the very end. Just as I was leaving the bloodwork room, the woman said "thank you Sir.' Ruining my perfect day in the gender department. 

However, I was not going to let one person spoil my medical and gender euphoria I felt when we stopped off for lunch on the way home and we were referred to as "Ladies"  again. 

I am sure, I will get back my bloodwork today and will find out when my first phlebotomy in years will be scheduled. Hopefully I will feel improvement soon because Liz and I are planning a trip to the Florida Keys in January and more energy along with less back pain would be a welcome relief. As I will need all the gender euphoria I can get to help me along.

I will have much more later as we get closer to the date, in the meantime, I have some iron to get rid of.

Uncomfortably Numb

Image from M on UnSplash

Following yesterday's ill-fated election, I wasn't going to write anything at all but decided not to be a coward. 

Needless to say, I did not think the election would be as bad and disappointing as it was. It was a generational defeat for transgender women and men everywhere. 

Essentially, I will take the day off to mourn and try to figure out what it all means to me. One second I am scared and the second I am defiant. Plus I have my own health to think of, since I have a hematology appointment coming up next week. 

In the meantime, I will stay uncomfortably numb to twist an old Pink Floyd tune and be back tomorrow. 

It's Mammogram Day

 

JJ Hart, image from Columbus, Ohio.

Once a year, my doctor puts in a request for a mammogram screening for me. Mainly because breast cancer runs in the family. My maternal grandmother died of it back in the 1950's when I was quite young. 

If you have never experienced a mammogram, there is some minor discomfort involved but nothing major. In fact, I consider the whole procedure to be a rite of passage of sorts for me into my own transgender womanhood .Even though I have a difficult remembering for sure, I think this is at least my sixth or seventh mammogram. So by now, I have a very good idea of what I am facing. 

For the most part, I have been met with an inclusive caring staff and have had only only one experience with an unpleasant nurse who asked me vague questions about if I had any work done down below. Like it was any of her business one way or another. She was border line evil and happily I have never seen her again. Anymore questions like that and I would have had to report her.

I am going to a new, closer hospital today for the test and I will be interested to see how it goes. Plus it could be my last breast test because of my age. My Doctor said no one gets them anymore past the age of seventy five. So I guess when you get old, you are on your own. Regardless, I am hoping for a clear mammogram today since my blood work did not come back so good. I have an appointment with hematology coming up in mid November. Even though I want to worry about it, I am trying my best not to build any un-necessary bridges to jump off of before I need to. 

I know this is a short post but I need to get ready to go here fairly soon. It's a fairly rapid procedure, so I should have most of the results back today.  

Complacency

 

Summer Image with padding.
JJ Hart

As I did my best to transition from male to female there were many times I experienced moments of complacency.

It happened slowly enough as I kept throwing lifelines to myself so I could survive a life burdened with gender dysphoria. To add insult to injury, I was not gifted with feminine external attributes to help me along as I initially tried to make it in the world as my authentic inner self. Disguising my testosterone poisoned body was a total learning experience. Angles needed to be changed into curves using everything from pads to balloons to foam. Anything it took to perfect my image and avoid complacency. 

The main problem I had was I could not avoid all the years I had lived as a man. The male trip was never easy for me to learn and even a more difficult time to forget. I had survived and even flourished and now I was trying to give it all up and for what. To live as a woman which became an all encompassing goal. I would practice the best I could walking and moving as a feminine person. Even to the point of being called "Ma'am" when I was at work as a man. I figured it was because I projecting a feminine "aura" to the world and resolved to add the idea to my accessories when I was out in the world as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. 

I started to project very strongly that I was a woman to any stranger I was interacting with. Along with looking them in the eye, I was able to be accepted for the first time as the person I wanted to be but I still had to guard in not letting up my guard and not slipping back into any of my old male ways. Just one time walking like a linebacker or not paying any attention to my new feminine communication skills could essentially ruin my whole day. It did not matter how much time, effort or money I put into my appearance, if I forgot who I was, nothing mattered. For years, my entire existence was still so fragile until I put in the years and work to tip my gender balance.

I can't say, even today I don't experience moments of complacency. It is easy when the cis-women my age and younger are for the most part very casual in their appearance. Ironically, when I see a woman in heels and hose in the grocery store dressed to the nines, my "trans-dar" goes up and I want to take a closer look. Perhaps the person could be part of the transgender or cross dresser sisterhood. 

Through it all, complacency or not I have never forgotten how the differences in female fashion is and was one of the fun parts of transitioning. No longer was I confined by the drab and boring male fashions. I had forever admired how the woman around me had the freedom to express themselves through fashion and now I could also.

On another topic, I attended two other LBGTQ support group virtual meetings recently. The groups moderator is a trans man and does a good job of keeping everyone involved. The group is very diverse and I was surprised to see a couple of the transgender participants seemingly have partially de-transitioned over the years. Plus I learned the Veterans Administration has finally approved electrologist visits under their care and my mammogram was approved after four tries. The main problem was the hospital I wanted it done at still had an old chart on me with my dead name so getting a new one was the problem. The VA needed to approve the process and did so my dead name information has been changed on yet another document. Progress is progress I guess.

At least I was not being complacent and stayed the course until I saw results.

Unexpected Reunion

Image from Mickael Gresset on UnSplash

Recently, I experienced a fun unexpected reunion. 

I really don't get out much to test the world as a transgender woman anymore and when I do, normally my wife Liz is with me to run interference with the public. At the worst, people think we are two lesbians. Yesterday, Liz had to work and I was left to run errands on my own. I was not going anywhere spectacular so I went with a simple wardrobe of t-shirt and leggings. Since I was only going to be seen from my car in drive throughs, I did make sure to apply a light coat of foundation and lipstick. My hair as always was a challenge. It has a mind of it's own and yesterday it was a wonderful long wavy hairstyle just waiting to be loosely pulled back to face the public. My goal is to have a style which loosely flows over my shoulders and around my face. Sometimes I am successful, sometimes not so much. My hair is the only part of my image which is not age appropriate but I don't care because I went so long in my life being forced into having very short hair. 

My main challenge yesterday was when I needed to take our car to the oil change place we always go to. Making the change into male dominated spaces for some reason has always intimidated me after I transitioned into a feminine world. Perhaps it is because I know from my male past, how some men try to take advantage of women in work situations. I hate to be perceived as a weak woman but on the other hand, it is nice to be thought of as a woman at all. As I wrote, it has been awhile since I had been out on my own and I did not know what to expect when I went to the oil change place. I only knew it would have been nice to experience a reunion with my feminine self being accepted in public.

It turned out, all my fears were unfounded when I was called Ma'am at least four times during my visit. By that time my reunion was real and I felt empowered to finish the rest of my errands. On top of my initial success, all my other stops were easy by comparison. When I safely returned home, I could finally bask in the glow of my gender reunion as well as all the resultant gender euphoria. I should write also, I am spoiled at home by Liz because she has always thought of me as a woman, so I don't have to work as hard on my authentic self. 

Coming up, I have another challenge of sorts when I attend the LGBTQ support group session at the Dayton, Ohio Veterans Hospital. In the past, I have attended several others of these sessions which were met with mixed success. I think mainly because of the problem of trying to mix gay and lesbian attendees in with transgender ones. The path to understand each other was simply too great. Especially when the group was not blessed with trans women who were more quiet in their criticism of society as a whole and the VA as an entity. Sure the VA could do more for the transgender veteran but they could do a lot less also. Support in my book has to do with helping those around me more than baseless complaining about things the moderator has nothing to do with.

One way or another, I will see how it goes and since I am retired and not doing much else, why should not I take the time to attend. My experience has told me to hope for the best and expect less and maybe I will encounter someone who I can help. Or, another unexpected reunion.

While I am on the subject of things which are coming up, I need to schedule my annual mammogram and take care of an upcoming dermatology appointment at the VA here in Cincinnati. I have a  growth on my face they want to take a look at. Naturally I hope it is nothing serious and the mammogram I need because of my maternal grandmother passing away from breast cancer. I consider the process as a rite of passage into the female world for me. 

At my age, medical appointments seem to be taking over. I am just hoping for no unexpected medical reunions and more social ones. The reunions where I am one on one with the world and come out as successful. Enabling me to want to be more active again. Plus the fall season is right around the corner. It has always been my favorite time of year and it is time to go through my wardrobe to see what stays and what goes. Who knows, I may have some more unexpected reunions coming up.

Beautiful...Inisde and Out

 

Image from the Jessie Hart 
Archives...

As I obsessed with looking the best I could as a novice transgender woman or cross dresser, all I could think of was how I looked. Little did I know there was so much more coming up in my journey to living fulltime as a trans woman. I needed to live my looks as well as just admiring myself in a mirror. 

This morning turned out to be a prime example. Today I tagged along with my wife Liz to her mammogram appointment. Before I went, I applied my usual minimal amount of makeup, brushed out my hair and was essentially ready to go. While I was doing it, I felt it was time for a change. I thought I have been in a rut I have been in too long. I have essentially stopped working on my appearance and then being shocked when I am mis-gendered. 

Of course, nothing negative happened morning when it came to the doctors appointment because there were very few people waiting to begin with plus no one was paying any attention to anyone else. Since I had a spare moment, I went shopping on my phone for a foundation specifically tailored for older women. A group I naturally fit into. I found their on-line site and decided to give it a try. 

Currently, I am relying on the skin effects of gender affirming hormones, so I don't have to use a foundation at all. Or so I thought. It's occurring to me now the hormones have been a crutch for me to quit trying as much as I did. I ordered the new foundation and I will let you know my feelings. 

The end result is I need to work harder to make my inside and outside match up again. I learned long ago, similar to many cis-women, I will never be the prettiest woman in the room. I needed to find other ways to survive in the world as a new transgender woman. Little did I know, my biggest positive as a new person was already within me. My discovery was my inner feminine soul was actually good people. Opening up to others turned out to be one of my biggest pluses. The world turned out to like me. 

Doing my best to be beautiful to others, inside and out, turned out to be one of the most beneficial things I have ever done. Now, I feel it's time to get out of my rut, have some fun and get back in the game. Maybe to the point of treating Liz out to get our nails done and then have some dinner out at our favorite restaurant

I need to get us both out of the house.  

Patch Day

Image from the Jessie 
Hart Archives

I am on estradiol patches I change twice a week. The hormonal patches help to make me who I am and have been fortunate to be prescribed them for years.

Early on progress was slow as I was prescribed the minimal amount of hormones by my doctor. I remember vividly the night I asked my future wife Liz out on New Years Eve when I started my gender affirming hormones. It was a very big night. Initially I began my dosage on pills which as I said were very minimal in dosage. 

Even on the minimal amounts I still felt changes beginning to take place. Possibly because I was already in my sixties and my testosterone levels were decreasing anyhow so there were fewer hormones to do battle with. At any rate, I was beginning to see (or feel) changes primarily in my breasts. Before I knew it, I was experiencing problems finding shirts which were loose enough to not show my protruding breasts. Little did I know, there was so much more to come.

What happened was, when my doctor determined I was not experiencing any ill effects from the new hormones, I was cleared for a higher dosage. With a higher dosage came more changes which I needed to deal with and the changes forced my hand on when I thought I would need to go public as a transgender woman. At the time, as predicted by my doctor, my hair began to grow as fast as my new breasts. More importantly though were the internal changes which were beginning to take place along with the external softening of my skin and facial lines. 

Of course the internal changes were less noticeable in the beginning because I was still so obsessed with my feminine appearance. All the way to the point of thinking my appearance was the reason I went through with HRT or GAH. 

The more I became one with the new hormones which were allowed to invade my old male body, the more I began to understand the process. I really began to change when I switched my health care to the Veteran's Administration and began seeing a new endocrinologist who almost immediately changed my dosage from pills to patches so the new method would provide less wear and tear on my inner organs. At the same time, we discussed upping my dosage slightly as well as how I used my testosterone reducing medication (Spiro) at the same time. 

All of this was working together to provide me with significant internal changes. Suddenly, I could cry for the first time in my life as well as feel my world around me soften. I was more sensitive to temperature changes as well as noticing a big improvement in my sense of smell. Through it all, I even experienced my first feminine hot flashes which initially made me think I was going to internally combust. Little did I know at the time I was just going through another gender puberty in my life. As far as more external changes went, finally I started to develop hips for the first time ever.

Perhaps I am a little dramatic when I think my estradiol patches helped me to become the person I am today. Plus I never forget, how blessed I was with having the health to undertake such a radical hormonal shift in my body. I know so many who couldn't. I know also, so many other transgender women who prefer injections over patches to deliver their life changing hormones. For what ever reason, I have never had much of a problem having the patches adhere to my skin and seem to deliver an overall smoother dosage over the span of a week. That of course, is only my perspective.

Then again, there are those of you who naturally have a higher level of estrogen in your body and don't require gender afforming hormones at all to help you feel secure as a transgender woman. Whatever works, more power to you. 

Loose Ends

 

Image from the Jessie Hart
Archives

With this post, I have several loose ends to tie up and move on from...for awhile.

Perhaps the most important is my health. I finally received the information from my Veteran's Administration doctors from my recent colonoscopy. Fortunately, everything they removed turned out to be non-cancerous and I was cleared to not return for three years. A real improvement over the last time I went through the procedure only a year ago. I was paranoid I would have to do it again so soon, or worse they would find signs of cancer. As I always like to say, without my health I am nothing. 

Another loose end was a recent meet and greet I went to with a group of diverse friends I am part of. The morning started out with the knowledge my wife Liz, who wasn't feeling good would not be going with me to the brunch which was going to be held at a close by upscale brew pub. Liz and I are normally inseparable, so I knew I would miss her. For the occasion, I wore my new boots, favorite cream colored sweater and dark leggings, Light makeup and what passed for a quick brushing of my hair and I actually felt pretty good about myself. What could go wrong? A heavy cold rain which ruined my hair on the way in because I forgot an umbrella was the first thing which went wrong. Of course I survived a little rain, didn't melt and headed in to the crowded venue  As it turned out my group was clear across the room and I received little or no extra attention as I made my way back to them. So again, I was feeling good about myself. 

All was good until the server came back to take our orders. Out of the clear blue sky (which was cloudy) when it was my turn to order she turned to me and said, can I help you "Sir". The one little word, completely ruined my mood as I told her I wasn't a "Sir." She apologized twice but the damage was already done and it took me awhile to restore my confidence as a transgender woman. The damage went so far to me that I felt sorry for my friend who was sitting next to me and heard what the server said and I think felt my shock. Other than the shaky beginnings, the rest of the meet and greet went well and I headed off to do other errands and be home so I could watch the football playoffs. 

Another loose end I have been waiting to hear about is the outreach idea I had from the Alzheimer's Association diversity group I am a part of. They were/are trying to set me up to do an interview for a statewide Ohio publication called the "Buckeye Flame." Recently I talked virtually to one of the women who was responsible for setting up the interview and she told me she would talk to the person who would be doing it for a time. Since it has been a very difficult time in Ohio for all transgender women and trans men, due to all the anti transgender laws being passed in the legislature, I am sure the publication has bigger fish to fry than talking to me. One way or another, I am sure I will find out more at a upcoming diversity council meeting I will be attending virtually soon. 

For now, that is all the loose ends of my life which need to be tied up. Hopefully, there will be more outreach coming up soon to write about. 

Scaring the Public

Image from Raphael Renter
on UnSplash 

Often when we transgender folk encounter the public, sometimes we scare them. 

Sadly, we have been demonized by all the politicians in the country with all their ignorant bills in state legislatures. Seeing as how the majority of the public hasn't had the chance to ever meet a trans person up close and personal, they have nothing to work with. I ran into it the other day when I was at the Veteran's Administration Hospital in Cincinnati. I was waiting for my wife Liz to park the car, I was leaning against the wall and most of the people just ignored me, except one. I guess these days, I pass easily as being old because she was insisting on finding me a wheelchair. As I talked her out of it, I saw the smallest pause in her demeanor and I thought, here it comes. She noticed I was transgender and there was something wrong with the picture I was presenting. My excuse was I was wearing no makeup at all because after all I was headed for a colonoscopy. Somehow, I didn't care how I would look for the procedure since they would be up close and personal with me anyhow and would know my gender truth. 

It is sad we scare the public so much seeing as how we are just trying to live as normal life as possible as the next so called hetero-gender straight persons. Another reason we scare the public so much I think  is because we have had the opportunities to see and learn what goes on behind the curtains of the opposite genders. The entire process gives us an unique perspective on society as a whole. When I was seriously involved in my gender transition, I had women friends several times ask me what their men were really thinking when they couldn't understand them. Since I had been on both sides of the gender border when I was suddenly shut out of conversations between men and I. So I had an idea of what the women were going through.

Fortunately I didn't have to explain to very many men why I would want to give up all the hard earned male privileges I had worked for. Most of all my close male friends had passed away by then and the remaining close women friends I had who first were surprised by my decision to transition into their world and then supported me. Their support of course meant the world to me and more than made up for the loss of contact with my only sibling, a younger brother and his right wing in laws who refused to support me. Since we transgender folks have been so demonized by the politicians, I hate to think what the relatives would think of me now. So I put them out of my mind. 

Hopefully, the younger generation will be able to erase all the potential damage to future generations of trans youth. What the politicians don't understand is we have been around forever and cannot be erased by laws. We may have to temporarily go slightly underground in some areas of the country but we will always continue to exist. 

As pockets of diversity continue to exist, transgender allies will continue to exist too. Perhaps by then, the average public will not be scared of us. All we want is acceptance and equal rights. 

Testosterone Challenged

Image from the Jessie
Hart Archives

Recently it was time to take our car into the shop for an oil change. When I learned I needed to accomplish such a simple task on my own (with no help from my wife Liz), my anxiety level began to rise up. 

All my anxiety stems from my early upbringing when I was struggling to find my footing at all as a male type person. On a fairly regular basis, my brother and I would accompany my Dad when he visited his best friend who happened to own and operate a auto salvage yard. For better or worse, my brother and I got to see so-called pet alligators all the way to dynamiting ponds and salvaging the fish which floated to the top. to eat.

On occasion, the experiences were fun but at other times I was wondering how I could ever break out of my well hidden feminine tendencies and be a man in the mold of my Dad who was in many ways a man who fit the stereotype of a self made man. He rose from struggling through the depression to become vice president of a bank and building his own house. I never came out to him during his life. I forever grew up in his shadow and always experienced huge doses of anxiety when I needed to participate in any male-centric activities. Which included going to any sort of auto parts stores. 

Which brings me back to my oil change experience. My basic problem was I thought I could have been taken advantage of since I am a transgender woman. 

The staff at the place was predictably all male and the testosterone level was very high and yes I was intimidated but I survived. It turned out the only major questions I needed to answer or respond to were how to open the hood, turn on the lights and operate the turn signals. Outside of not knowing where the hood opener was, I didn't have any major problems. Very soon, they were finished and I was on my way. No worse for wear from the extra testosterone I had to experience.  As with anything else, the build up to the event itself was much worse than going through it. I have a colonoscopy coming up in approximately one week and I know the build up would be much worse than the procedure itself. The biggest problem I had the last time I went through it was being miss-gendered by the staff. Hopefully by this time the staff will be more progressive and I won't have to put up with that this time.

Since the staff who dealt with me last time was all female, I hope they recognize my testosterone level is as low as theirs and my appearance is only damaged by an unwanted male puberty I went through.  Plus as I look at it now, the biggest problem I may face is having another sizeable polyp which would have to be removed and I receive a clean bill of health. Health, after all is everything and miss-gendering is ignorance. 

Through it all, I am sure my testosterone didn't increase and I survived my anxiety level went back to normal so I am satisfied.   

Always on Stage

 

Photo from the Jessie
Hart Archives

Sadly Sunday night involved an emergency trip to the hospital because my wife Liz was having severe pains. 

You may recall, recently she went through two surgical procedures and was progressing smoothly...or we thought. The problem with going to the hospital the way we did, in the emergency situation, I did not have any chance to prepare or, no close shave or makeup of any kind. Not even a chance to tie my hair back. I had to go the way I was  and try to rely on my inherent androgyny I have lived with since I began hormone replacement therapy years ago. As it turned out, no one on the emergency room staff seemed to care since I imagine they have seen it all.

More important of course was my wife Liz's condition which was initially diagnosed  as a bowel blockage. Fortunately, after her doctor saw her, he thought he could go forward with no further surgery but she would have to stay in the hospital on a special diet. What a relief!

The whole process meant I needed to spend the day with her yesterday at the hospital with Liz. This time at least, I got the chance to prepare. I shaved, put on some makeup and went out into the world to battle traffic to go to the hospital. Of course, during the day, I needed restrooms to use to get rid of all the coffee I drink. Most everyone was really nice except the usual two people in a group who were not. 

As I walked past a certain group in particular asking for directions to the rest rooms I was glared at by two women in particular. Since I had to go I ignored them and the fact the rest of the group's gossip had gone silent. Since it was shift change, I had to go right past the group on the way back. This time I was struggling because I can only walk so far anymore without my back killing me. So I was walking hunched over as I was in pain. Hard to present as good as possible when it is a struggle to even walk. But I had no choice I had to make it.

Make it I did, and the women who glared at me, I managed to glare right back at. After all, since I have been out and about as long as I have I am used to always being on stage as a transgender woman. Men notice me and more importantly, women do to. Most of the time, I don't have any problems at all. I mind my own business and the world minds its business. 

Happily, Liz is going to be released today so I need to go back and get her from the hospital. Once again I will get ready the way I did yesterday and face the world with a smile on my face.

Affirmation

 

Photo from the Jessie Hart
Archives

Affirmations of my gender on occasion comes from predictable sources.

It was voting day recently here in Ohio and I had the chance to be reaffirmed as my feminine self again. It all started years ago when it was time to vote shortly after I changed almost all of my legal gender markers. I vividly remember the pride I felt when the voter administration person asked for my identification card. Which in my case was my brand new driver's license complete with a new picture and the all important "F" under where it asked for my gender. 

Essentially, I knocked out two birds with one stone when I voted for the first time that year which seems like years ago now. I had always felt the need to vote all of the time because possibly my parents always did and seemingly there was always an issue on the ballot I was passionate about. Even on occasion, every once in a while a politician I was for or against would come along too. Little did I know back in those days I would be voting someday as my authentic feminine self. 

Now when I vote, not only I am doing my patriotic duty, I am doing it as a woman. In the past on occasion I think I raised more than a few gender suspicions with the occasional man who was taking my information but today I had a woman who was closer to my age and didn't seem to care at all she was talking to a transgender woman. 

Today was an important election on several fronts here in Ohio which made it more of a necessity to get out the vote. Two statewide issues were on the ballot which might just signal a new dawn of non conservative politics in a state which has become considered as a backwards one in many cases. The issues are considering abortion and marijuana, so it will be interesting to see how they turn out. Plus we had a chance to vote against a right wing school board candidate backed by out of town interests such as the "Moms for Liberty." 

I guess most importantly, no one paid me any extra attention today when I was out in the public's eye. I am starting more and more to get out again and begin moving around outside of my secure gender shell at home. I need the extra challenge to push myself along, Plus, as we approach Thanksgiving, I will have an appointment for my Covid booster shot coming up as well as another diversity council meeting for the Greater Cincinnati Alzheimer's Association. So as the holidays approach, there may be more and more chances to get out and socialize. 

No matter how I look at it, affirmation is good and helps keep my gender dysphoria to a minimum. A problem I can never seem to be rid of. Voting helps me to remember a time I wasn't so fortunate and I had to vote as my old male self. Not to mention the early fears I had of trying out my new feminine identification and voting as a brand new person. It still proves to be a wonderful memory.