Labor Day 2026

 

Pik Nik with JJ Hart (left) and wife Liz. 

Time flies when you are having fun, especially when you are just getting older in life. Once again, another Labor Day and summer have come and gone. It’s like my mom used to say, life is like a roll of toilet paper, the closer to the end it gets, the faster it goes.

Around here in Southwestern Ohio though, we are entering what is called “Indian Summer” with temperatures which remind us of August. So, most of the fall fashions we have purchased will have to wait for another month until October rolls around.

Fall has always been my favorite time of the year as the leaves of the trees begin to change their colors, football is in full swing and I get to go through my fall and winter wardrobe to see what needs updating. It is one of the joys of living in a climate which still changes four times a year. In many ways, it seems like only yesterday when I first experienced my first summer to fall fashion transition as a transgender woman.  I thought now I was finally going to get to experience all the pretty clothes that ciswomen get to do. In a sense that was true once I could afford to update my fashion and find the proper sizes which fit me. To do so, I wore out my shoes going to thrift stores looking for fashion bargains which flattered me.

Of course, I forgot to mention the cross-dressers’ national holiday, Halloween which gives us the chance to flaunt how good we can look like a woman. Often for a neutral audience. I know for me it was the first time anyone saw me as myself outside of my mirror. For the first several serious Halloween parties of my adult life, I experienced the good and bad of being in public as a trans woman or even a novice cross-dresser. The good part was that I think I was successful in presenting as a woman while having the freedom to do it. However, the bad part was having to wait an entire year to do it again. Finally, I could take it no longer and needed desperately to take my feminine show on the road and head out to the malls unattended.

Once I began to try to get out of the mirror and into the world as a trans woman, Halloween just became the icing on my cake as my so-called “costume” changed from shock value trashy all the way to professional ciswoman ideas designed to see if I could fool people I did not know. No pun intended, but I made the transition from trash to class quite easily and I loved it. It gave me the direction I needed to go forward in my male to female femininization journey. I will be presenting more of my Halloween adventures as we get closer to the actual date of the holiday.

Sadly, not all my memories of fall are good ones. I vividly remember the nights I drove around alone seeking answers to my confused life which basically revolved around which gender was I and what was I ever going to do about my upcoming date with the Army. The rapidly blowing leaves in front of my headlights only reflected the despair of my life at that time.

So, that is why Labor Day represents more than just another holiday to me. As I said, the holiday makes me feel deeply about beginnings and ends as nature starts her transition from summer to winter and calls it fall and gives us brilliantly colored trees and cooler temperatures to enjoy.

Just a short Labor Day post today celebrating the beginning of fall around here. No matter where you are, I hope you can celebrate it too!

 

 

 

Figuring it All Out

 

Image from Erik McLean 
on UnSplash.  

I correspond quite a bit with one of my regular readers “Bobbie” whose life and mine amazingly align up in many ways including our military service. And if my memory is correct, she also benefited from a heavily influenced lesbian set of interactions. My apologies if I am wrong with my old memory which is like a steel trap…a rusted one. Because I heavily benefited (and still do to this day) with my feminine “upbringing” with my lesbian friends.

At any rate the reason for this post I to explain how Bobbie and I diverged on our gender paths. One very important way was when Bobbie went into how precisely she planned her male to female transition. All the way down to having a supportive wife. Which I did not and I needed to work my transition around her because she flat out refused to live with another woman. But on the other hand, did not mind that I was a cross dresser. She even went as far as scraping money from our limited family finances for me to rent a motel room to cross-dress in so I did not have to go out from our house which was on a heavily traveled street.

 Another way I diverged from Bobbie was her employment as a man required her to have several backup plans for every move, which mine didn’t. I was in the fast-paced casual dining industry which required me to work in an environment which constantly changed and was very difficult to plan ahead for. All of which really appealed to me at the time. Also, for various other reasons, I have decided to stay away from all gender related surgeries. Much different from Bobbie as I will translate for you:

“When the transformation began, the checklist was social first, add HRT, get the orchi and then the bottom surgery. A BA may be in the offing as my P has finally exhausted any more growth and a "Barely B" doesn't quite cut it.” Translating, “Orchi” means removal of the testicles, “BA” means breast augmentation surgery and “P” means taking progesterone hormones in addition to any Estradiol you may be also taking. Finally, “Barely B” means her breast size under the hormones she is taking, and “bottom surgery” is genital realignment surgery and is a major move.

I also decided against taking any progesterone after my endocrinologist did not like the idea at the Veterans Administration. But on the other hand, I started like Bobbie did with social and then went to the HRT or hormone replacement therapy and then went off to live my life as a transfeminine person. By this time, I was in my sixties, excited about my new life and set out to find someone unique enough to want to share it with me.

As you can tell, the whole male to female femininization path is not for the weak of heart and very much trashes the idea that transgender women embark down this extreme path out of a desire to just dress and look like a ciswoman. I get amused when I read that and think if the person saying it only knew the truth, they would certainly think differently.

Also, you can tell from Bobbie’s and I’s paths, there are many different ways to get to where we want to go as transgender women and transgender men. Even though my first dinner date as a trans woman was with a trans man, I still thought I knew the layers of the lesbian community, but I did not. Not only was I learning something totally new, but at the same time, finding out where I fit in. As the result of pure effort and observation, I learned I fit in quite well with the femmes or “lipstick” lesbians I encountered. To this day, I still benefit from my initial friendships I made with lesbians. As I have been in a relationship with a ciswoman lesbian for over fourteen years now and is going strong.

You may not have the circumstance or the ability yet to go “social” like Bobbie and I did, but the world is always changing, and you can change with it. Change is also different. You can plan ahead for six different scenarios (like Bobbie did) or pretty much just step out into the world and do the best you can like I did. I think now, I just wanted someone to realize my truth who knew me, but then it grew into carving out a whole new feminine life away from my old male one. I guess you could say I won the battle by taking an approach I never thought of taking. It was only then that I did set up an orderly “bucket list” of what I wanted to try to do behind the gender curtain in the world at large. As I was getting closer and closer to a dream life I never thought I could succeed in, for the first time in my life I needed to plan ahead and then let destiny take control of my life.

Examples of how destiny led me to successful outcomes were when I was matched up at the VA with a therapist who was knowledgeable about LGBTQ persons and specifically trans ones and was willing and able to help me with important tasks such changing as many of my legal markers that I could. She was really good and even helped me separate my depression and anxiety issues from my gender dysphoria. Maybe most importantly, she opened the door for my approval for HRT which I still cherish today. Sadly, my therapist moved on but I was lucky to have her when I did.

No matter where you are in your gender journey, I always enjoy hearing from you. As I said, remember there is no right or wrong way to discover your true self. I am always interested to hear of different paths. Humans are a very complex tribe and being transgender might be the most complex as all. Just remember you are in excellent company.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Violating Gender Boundaries

 

JJ Hart. Pushing my gender\
boundaries. 

Very early in life I learned that violating gender boundaries could result in severe trouble.

It was obvious to me that the male dominated family I was born into would ever accept a son who wanted to be a daughter. So, I had no choice but to turn inward with my developing feminine senses in the male world I was trying to be a part of. I was born way too early to take advantage of the forthcoming online information world with the advent of computers and social media. Again, I was trapped into trying to cross-dress my feelings away anytime I had the chance.

The other main problem I had was that the gender boundaries were so rigid and demanding I could not see any way out of my dark, lonely gender closet. I lived in a rural area with mostly boys and no girls to have a point of reference from. I only remember one occasion when the only girl in the neighborhood was persuaded by a couple of the boys to show her naked genitals to the group, and I was not excited but embarrassed for her at the time. Just another example of how my sexuality was developing away from the “normal” male’s. I had no need to see her private parts and wondered why I was so different. Little did I know, it was just the beginning of challenging my gender boundaries during my life.

As far as the rest of my life went, I wasn’t much of a challenger of anything. It wasn’t until I reached my college years and was drafted into the military during the Vietnam War, did I begin to challenge the system. At the same time, I was starting to challenge the war and the politics around it, I was pushing my cross-dressing boundaries by starting to leave my house more dressed as the person I wanted to see if I could become. I even made what turned out to be a huge mistake by coming out to my fiancé as a transvestite or cross-dresser back in those days. I say huge mistake because she wanted me to tell the draft board I was gay to stay out of the military service. Even then, I knew a lot about myself and did not have to push my gender boundaries so far to lie and tell someone I was gay. As a side note, then and now I did not have anything against the gay community, but I just knew there was a real difference between them and me.

Of course, the military stopped any gender challenging I was thinking of doing dead in its tracks for nearly three years of my young life. The only challenge I could do was mental in nature as I imagined how life could be better for me as a transfeminine person when I was discharged from the Army. Even then, I was restricted in my gender thinking to the reality in life. What I almost did was send a letter (remember them?) to my future first wife explaining it maybe a transwoman picking her up at the airport when she arrived for the first time. She was in the Army too and was discharged about nine months after I was.

Little did I know, if I had decided to test my gender boundaries then it may have been one of the better times to do it because I did not have the chance to build up all the troublesome male baggage I would acquire later in life. On the plus side, I had a very new car that I had shipped home from Germany, my stereo equipment and a sizeable bank account to start a new life with. On the negative side, I thought I had a good chance of losing my family, friends and job if I started all over as a woman.

Long story short, I did not have the courage to push my gender boundaries any further than they were at the time. Except for a few Halloween adventures, and the occasional night out, my life as a trans woman was mundane. It was not until I could not take it any longer the annual yearly adventures at Halloween, did I start to really push my luck by going out more often. My early explorations were rough to say the least until I settled down and learn how to blend in with the ciswomen who I found really ran the world I wanted to be a part of.

As the world let me in as a transgender woman and/or I finally learned the truth of who I was, I kicked and pushed until my gender boundaries came down. It was like the steep slope I write about as I slid down trying my best to hold on to what was left of my old male life but failing miserably. As I continued to gain my new feminine ground behind the gender curtain, which was hidden from me for so long, I had pushed by gender boundary so far, I was too far gone. I was no longer afraid of the fall and knew I was too far gone to ever go back to being my old male self.

From then on, gender boundaries did not mean much to me except from my former history as a man, I could see both sides of the border from where I lived as a trans woman. Leaving the man’s club scared almost all of the cismen away but attracted as many of the ciswomen that I needed to set up a new boundary. The new boundary was one which validated myself as a woman for the first time in my life and it seemed I was learning daily how to adjust to my new situation.

From that point forward, I changed my legal name and became extra serious about my physical and mental well being by being approved for HRT or gender affirming hormones. It just seemed by that time, I was just doing what came natural in solidifying my new gender boundaries. Sure, they were all big moves in my life, but good ones that I had always dreamed of making.

As always. Thanks to all of you who read along with my lifetime worth of experiences. Your responses and comments make it so worthwhile for me!

 

 

 

 

Living the Dream

 

Image from Randy Tarampi
on UnSplash.

I discovered before I could live a dream of living as my own unique sense of womanhood, I needed to discover exactly what that meant.

I knew very early on it was much more than just applying makeup and parading around in one of mom’s dresses. It went much deeper than that. I wanted to be a girl as badly as anything I had ever wanted in my life.

The problem was that I was stuck in an information “never-never” land with no internet or social media of any sort to provide key information on what it really meant to have issues with your gender and not just throw you aside with some sort of a mental illness diagnosis. I did know enough about myself to know I was not mentally ill for wanting to be everything feminine. So, I did the only thing I knew how, day dream my life away envying the ciswomen around me.

As I grew into myself, I learned more about my dream and the overall demands it would make upon my life. Even though I tried not too, I still added extra male baggage such as a child, marriage and a better career to my life. I always thought I would be better off lonely with just having myself to depend on if I ever had to get rid of it all in my male world and start all over again as a transgender woman. Another problem was that I was tantalizing close to encountering other gender conflicted people who were actively following their dreams, so I knew it was possible.

For example, I just missed crossing paths in my broadcasting career with other trans women who were actively following their dream. One at a small radio station I worked at in my hometown and another I ran into at a AFTN Thailand radio/tv reunion in New Orleans. Sadly, the trans woman was so shy and backwards, I could not even get her attention to say hello.

Everything changed when I came home to nearby Columbus, Ohio and was invited to very diverse small parties on a regular basis. Everyone was there, including several trans women who were headed for gender realignment surgeries that I was able to interact with and learn from. How much exactly did my dream entail? Going all the way like they did, or not was my major point of wanting to know about them. The one thing I did find out was that they had taken the time and effort to set themselves up for success in the new lives they were undertaking. One trans woman was a firefighter getting ready to retire and had a good pension and insurance coming to cover her surgery and another was a very successful electrical engineer who was extraordinarily beautiful and knew she would not have any problems continuing to work after the surgeries.

I was in neither of their classes in appearance, insurance coverage or job security to even compare myself to them, but still my dream of ever living as a transfeminine person would not go away.

Somehow, I needed to carve out my own individual gender path to success if I was ever going to make it. Finally, I learned the powerful message to just be myself and most of the rest of my problems in my male to female femininization would fade into the background. No, I was not extra attractive such as thedestiny transitioning transgender women that I knew but I realized that many of the ciswomen that I knew weren’t either. It was very shallow of me to think that all that went into to being a quality person as a woman was just appearance, so I grew past it. My focus shifted into having more confidence in myself as a good person that a stranger would like and away from just how I looked. When I did, my dream began to become a better focus. Maybe I could do it after all.

Of course, my major focus was what was I going to do with all the unwanted male baggage (and some of the wanted too) that I was planning on taking along on to my new life. At that point in time, my second wife was still alive, and she had made it a point to tell me she would never want to live with another woman, so I had to figure out what I was going to do about that major problem. Then I also had the usual conflicts we all face such as what we are going to do about employment and would any of our friends accept us.

For me, destiny came along and in one fall swoop showed me the way to living my dream. My wife passed away. Leaving me alone to consider my future about the time what was left of my close male friends died too. It turned out destiny was giving me a clean life slate to work from when I began to start all over. In addition, I was old enough to retire and work a little on the side to make ends meet and the Veterans Administration health care system which I was already a part of decided to approve gender related care or HRT for qualified veterans which I was. Destiny could not have shown me a better path to my dream than if I had planned it that way. I needed to pay my dues and work through many dark, lonely days to get to the light, but it was worth it when I did.

Finally, my dream became a focus for me when I met my future wife Liz and other ciswomen who let me into their world. I was able again to focus my dream on reality and make sure it was not a nightmare. Perhaps the best part of the entire trip up my gender path was the likelihood that I would ever make it. To say the least, my going forward was a shaky proposition to start with and all too often, my mental gender darkness threatened to catch up to me and my dream.

Thank goodness it never did, and my transgender dream became a reality.

Reality for me is also to have you join in with my thoughts. Thanks so much for doing so!

 

 

 

 

Gender Binges

 

Image from Andy Arjun
on UnSplash.  

Binge cross-dressing happened a lot to me when I was quite young.

Once I was able to scrape together my meager finances to put together a small wardrobe of feminine clothes that barely fit me, I could not stay away from wearing them more and more. In fact, I was able to come up with two main hiding places away from the prying eyes of my family and most importantly, my slightly younger brother. It was about that time that I really became involved with binging in my new clothes which I felt made me look like a pretty girl.

Very soon, regardless of the risk involved with me cross-dressing as a girl, I was doing it as much as I could get away with. I think now that my mom had to know something about my cross-dressing but was either afraid to say anything about such a complex subject or thought it was a phase that would go away. Obviously, the joke was on her. My wanting to be a woman never did go away; I just matured into it. Plus, back in the late 1950’s and early 1960's, there was very little good information about gender issues to deal with, so we were on our own as gender issues were called mental illnesses. Which even I knew at such a young age was not true. For all I knew at the time, I really liked experimenting with mom’s clothes and makeup and binge dressing was becoming routine.

As I said, once I began to mature into being a more accomplished cross-dresser (even before I considered myself transgender) I managed to dress more and more. I was even able to buy a beautiful long blond human hair wig that she hated and I loved. Finally, after I changed girlfriends, she went away and I kept the most important part of the relationship to me which of course was the wig. It brought me to a whole other level of cross-dressing away from Halloween wigs into the real deal. Back in the 1960’s when miniskirts were in, I could not wait until I could find a chance to slide on pantyhose and miniskirt and top it all off with my blond wig. Yes, I did binge any chance that I got!

Sadly, my binge dressing needed to come to a complete halt during my military years in the Army. Instead of worrying about how short I could wear my miniskirts, I had a more immediate and important problem of how to deal with weapons and drill sergeants in Army basic training. How I survived was that I put all my fond memories of cross-dressing in the back of my head and daydreamed about the future I knew I could have shaving my legs again and binge dressing as a woman.

After I served my time in the military, the only immediate release I had from all the tension I felt to be feminine at all was with all the many and varied Halloween parties I went to. During that time, I went from being a French woman with my blond hair, black outfit, tights and beret, all the way to professional woman one year when I was mistaken for a ciswoman just getting off work. The good news was I was learning a lot, and the bad news was Halloween only came about once a year. I needed desperately to find another way to binge with a purpose and express myself as a transgender woman. A term I was beginning to accept as my own.

Once I began to accept who I was, I needed to set out to prove it to myself and the world that I could live my truth. It was then that my binging took a whole different direction from where I was before. Thanks to the basic acceptance I gained from successful Halloween parties, I had the confidence to know I could look the part and blend in with society as another ciswoman. Little did I know then, the hardest part of my male to female femininization project was yet to come.

It took me finally getting out of the gay bars I regularly went to for some sort of validation I never received and into being accepted as a regular in many of the straight venues I went to and enjoyed as a man. My validation as a regular gave me the confidence to keep trying to improve myself as a transgender woman rounding out her life in the world. As I achieved goal after goal I set up on my trans bucket list, I really binged out every chance that I got which put me into a direct collision with my second wife who did not want to live with another woman and my male self who was dead against giving up his life all together.

By all out gender binging, I had set myself up for an internal war I was fortunate to survive. It took me all I could do to keep all my lives together as the years progressed. All I knew was I was able to carve out a dream existence as a transfeminine person. No one knew of my male past, and I loved experiencing every moment of my new life. Deep down, for once I felt I was fighting my self when I was binging as a trans woman and expressing my true self.

By turning back, the clock the best I could, I tried to take the best that I learned from my male life and apply it to building a solid base for my female life. I think it worked because I was able to decide which of my male baggage was important enough to bring along and I benefitted from being blessed with a long life, so I can see a number of important things come full circle (which is another blog post.)

The bottom line is I have always been an impulsive person which helped me all the times I just had to binge to satisfy my needs. Dealing with my gender issues was just an integral part of that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just Feeling Good Being Me

 

Image from Mathilda Khoo
on UnSplash.

Just feeling good being me took me years to learn. In fact, I needed to go through three male to female transitions to get there. 

First, I needed to go through all my cross-dressing years and feel the angst of how I looked above everything else. In fact, when I go back and read some of my very early blog posts, all I basically mentioned was my presentation as a woman and not how I felt as one. It probably was because I did not feel transfeminine at all at that point in my life. Or, in other words, I had not matured yet in my journey to transgender womanhood.

I wonder if I had known what a long and winding route, I ended up taking, if I would have still attempted it years later. But it turned out, life had a different path for me than nearly all the other people I knew. Since I was deprived of having any input on where I wanted to go with my gender struggles, I was left on my own to find my way. Many times, the only clues that I got came from the dreams I was having that I was actually a pretty girl and was very disappointed when I still woke up in my male life. I was not feeling good at that point until I could make it back to my makeup and dresses to cross-dress in front of the mirror. That was all well and good, except the time feeling good, or gender euphoria I learned it was called, did not last very long.

Somehow, the good feelings took over regardless and I pursued a feminine life even harder. It did not matter that the more I tried to do to transform myself into a pretty girl could result in disaster if I was ever discovered. I don’t know how I never was, except mom maybe knew and just did not want to bring it up thinking I would outgrow it. It turns out the only thing I outgrew was her clothes and I had to be resourceful to find fashion items that I could add to my wardrobe and wear. Like one day in junior high school, I found a discarded stretchy elastic skirt that fit me, and I brought it home with me and cherished it for years to come. I was fortunate in finding me a pair of girls’ shoes in my size at the store where I had first gone shopping with my own money for makeup. I could even afford them along with being able to buy a new pair of panty hose. To come up with the money, I worked a rural newspaper route and put the money I earned together with money I earned from doing chores around the house. I was on a mission to succeed feeling good as me, as a girl.

The mission was due to be paused as military duty came my way during the Vietnam War as I ended up serving three years in the Army. My new task was to put my cross-dressing life on a back burner as I went away to serve. Even though I was bitter at the time since I was drafted by the government to do something I was totally against, I got a lot of good from it as I traveled the world (covering three continents in three years) and learning powerful lessons about life. Army basic training in particular taught me what I could do to survive on a temporary basis without a skirt and makeup to fall back on.

Even on those long-forced marches I was on, during a not so mild Ft. Knox winter, I learned to always look ahead and not behind me. I used the lesson on the days when I encountered a gender hater or TERF (cis woman gender gatekeeper) who wanted to berate me because I knew I could outlast them. The TERF just couldn’t grasp that I was not there to threaten their femininity, I was there to be me and live mine.

After all that learning experience, I still had a long way to go to feel good about being me. As I always say, I was similar to most other men in not understanding what really goes into a ciswomen’s life. It did not matter that I had spent my life admiring women from afar, I was still a novice at trying to go behind the gender curtain to truly understand a woman’s life. And I would not come close to feeling better about the gender disconnect in my life until I did.

I left the world of gay venues and started to enjoy my new life in either one of the very few lesbian bars which were still open at the time, or one of the big straight sports bars I was used to going to as a man. All I knew was I was being accepted as the transgender woman I always wanted to be as a regular in those venues and I loved putting my old male self completely in my past. The new strangers did not know anything about him and the positives and negatives about his life, and I wanted to keep it that way. Until I found a few friends I could trust. At that point only could I begin to fill out my life’s story to them. While at the same time never alluding to the fact that I ever lived a male life at all.

I was a little slow, but my life came full circle from being a part-time cross-dresser to a transgender woman, back to just being who I was always meant to be (me) and I could feel good about who I was for the first time in my life.

Earlier in this post when I was mentioning my military experience, I wanted to take the time to thank Dana and Bobbie for their input on my Fourth of July post. They were both in the Navy and Bobbie in particular is very active in the state of Michigan pushing equal rights for the LGBTQIA+ community. I know too there are other trans vets who follow along and I appreciate you too! All of you who just read and or comment are always deeply appreciated. Trans vet or not.

 

 

 

Destination Unknown

 

JJ Hart and wife Liz on Right.

Through most of my life, I have taken the path less traveled to an unknown destination. Many times, I have thought I knew where I was headed, only to be faced with many stop signs in my way. It was like the night I took the night bus to Ft. Knox, Kentucky to begin my Army basic training. All I really knew was I did not want to be there and I would be in for more unpleasant situations than I wanted to count. All without my precious feminine wardrobe, heels and makeup to fall back on.

To make matters worse, some of the other men on the bus were not so silently crying about their fates which were coming up, quickly because before we knew it, the bus arrived at the not so beautiful, winter-time hills of Ft. Knox and we were greeted by drill sergeants and loaded from the bus into our waiting barracks. In a small way, I guess I was fortunate that I had two friends who were drafted ahead of me into the Army who told me what to expect and gave me some sort of confidence that I could successfully survive whatever was ahead.

Actually, for me, basic training went fast seeing as how I was facing an extended period of my life without the feminine fallbacks I had always known to get me by. Keep in mind too that the Army in those days was deeply gender separated and there were no women to interact with anywhere where I was at all in basic training. So, I was forced to do all my interaction with other men which I had never been good at. It turned out to be a learning experience I will never forget and even gave me extra insight about how competitive men interact with each other when there are no ciswomen to show off for.

Through it all, my inner super repressed feminine self was busily recording all of this for use later on in my life. Any spare moment I had when I was doing some sort of a mundane task in the chow hall for dinner like peel potatoes, I was given the chance to day dream off to the future and think of the new car I was going to buy with the money I was saving because of Uncle Sam taking care of everything I needed. I dreamed of buying a new wig and clothes and making it a point to slowly drive past my first fiancé who had rejected me when I was drafted into the military. She thought I should have tried to get out of serving because I was a cross-dresser. Which was close enough to being gay for her to get me rejected from duty.

When my three years of military service was up and I returned to the world I knew before, I returned almost exactly where I was with my cross-dressing when I left. The only difference was when Halloween rolled around and the newly restored Ohio Theatre in Columbus was having a costumed “Spook Out” with their newly restored theatre organ providing the background sound live for the silent version of the “Phantom of the Opera.” It was an opportunity for me to jump out of my dark gender closet and present my true self to the world for the first time since I was a civilian again. For the evening, I was the long blond-haired woman in heels and a minidress which of course included my freshly shaven legs and new panty hose. Outside of the heels beginning to bother me as the evening wore on, I had a wonderful time. Especially when I had the chance to see and appreciate the other costumes.

From there, the only problem I had was thinking about waiting another long year to be able to come out of my closet and express myself as a transfeminine person. I had just spent three years of my life waiting for my freedom from the Army and I did not want to wait anymore. My solution was to open my closet door and have the courage to come out on my own and not wait for another year. I knew in order to do it; I needed to take my feminine presentation standards way beyond what I was doing for Halloween if I was ever to make it in a world of ciswomen. Certainly, I made mistakes along the way as I stumbled out of the closet but managed to maintain the balance on my heels to get by in the world.

Thanks to previous life lessons I had learned to rely on myself, my inner female finally had her chance to come out and shine in the world when I started out evenings to go out and be by myself and ended up talking to other curious ciswomen wondering what I was doing in their world. I had learned to outgrow my shyness around strangers and become a social person, so my “plan” worked to perfection. I did not have to go out anymore to be by myself and my previous unknown gender destination was becoming clearer to me.

For the first time, I was able to see ahead of myself for future reference the stop signs I would face. Such as what was I going to do about all the male baggage I had managed to build up over the years against my will. If you are trans, you know what I am talking about such as spouses, family, friends and employment to begin with. Along the way, I have written entire posts about the power of stop signs and what they mean to transgender women and transgender men. I can only say, when you have negotiated all your stop signs and reached your unknown destination, you will have reached your own little utopian space because it feels so natural to you. At least it worked that way for me.

Thanks for reading along!

Any comments are always welcomed! 

 

 

The First Time

 

JJ Hart

There are plenty of first times in a person’s life that we can set up on a pedestal and remember. Such as, the first time you had sex or the first time you drove a car can create some memorable experiences.

I venture a guess that we transgender women and transgender men have more than our fair share of first times to look back on. I know I do. For example, I remember vividly the first time I went exploring in my mom’s garment drawers, and deep down something clicked inside me that I was on a new and exciting path I could never get off of. I also remember the first time I drove a car on a country road at the age of fourteen when no one else was around and I remember the first time I had sex with a woman, and she told me that I would never forget her and she was right.

For many reasons, these were the easy firsts to remember other than times such as when I was in the delivery room for the birth of my only child and negative ones such as when I needed to go to Ft. Hayes in Columbus, Ohio for my draft induction physical. Standing in a room full of naked men was not my idea of fun and a first time I did not want to revisit. There were also lesser first times such as graduating college and receiving my honorable discharge from military service that I was proud of but not as much as I was when I started to fill out my gender workbook and begin to advance towards a stable transfeminine future. It was only then that I began to grasp the importance of life’s first times that I was sometimes racing past before I even knew it. I was so bad about not living in the present and appreciating it for what it was. I was always thinking about the future before the present was over.

When I began to search for my feminine self in the world, I needed to stay in the present more than I had ever needed to in the past. If I did not, I would forget what I was trying to do that night as far as being a novice cross-dresser or transgender woman. I could be mirror-ready with my clothes, makeup and hair and still destroy that image with the wrong movements if I became too careless and forgot where and who I was. Who I was, was the most important time of my life as for the first time, I was attempting to see if I could (against all odds) survive a dream run towards my goal of living as a trans woman in a world of ciswomen everywhere.

As I did become successful, my mindset began to change, and I started to think of myself of a transgender woman more than some sort of a casual cross dresser. I knew it was completely a mental move but still a very important one as I scaled the steep walls of my gender path. At the time, the term transgender was just being used more and more, and for the first time in my life I found something that really described who I was. All those years I had gone to those “Tri-Ess” cross-dresser social mixers were wasted because I still came away with the idea that most of the others were not like me. It took me a while, but I finally began to appreciate the individual that I was for the first time. When I began to remove the cross-dresser word from my mental vocabulary, I was beginning to insert the use of woman and inwardly began to refer to myself as a she, became a milestone in my existence because I was coming to the point of understanding for the first time, I was a woman. Just one with a unique background which should be celebrated, not scorned.

My only problem I had with the whole direction I was heading in my life with my feminine self was that the potential I had to hurt others I loved in the process. And if I had followed my instincts and done the male to female transition, would I had been better off in the long run. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I was wasting my life as a man. What was left of it was only the physical image I presented to the world when I worked and when I was around friends. I was still under the impression I needed his male privileges to exist in the world which were nice to have in the short term but had to go for the first time when I decided to transition into a new, exciting transfeminine world.

Not to say the new world did not present constant challenges to not slip back into my old ingrained masculine ways from living nearly fifty years on and off in that world I was born into without a choice of getting out of. It seemed I was in a dark closet I could not get out of until I made more than a few serious efforts such as going out and carving out my own new life with people who knew nothing of my past. For the first time, I made it in a world full of ciswomen who saw nothing wrong with me being behind their gender curtain and it was as if I had always belonged to the new world I was in. Which was true, I had never been able to get there until I took chances and made the effort. Of course, back in those days, the world was in essence a kinder and gentler place with people less inclined to be in others business.

In my male life, I had always been quite guarded because I did not want anyone in my gender business. As I went female, everything changed and I did not mind anyone knowing my big secret. I was a woman of a transgender background, and I found people who respected me for my honesty on how I was living my life. For some reasons, especially lesbians who let me into their world, and socialized with me as we were regulars watching sports in a few big venues and regulars for the first time at lesbian mixers, I was invited too. In fact, often I was a better “mixer” at these socials than my friends were. I was having fun for the first time in a long time in my life.

I was moving so fast, I finally had to slow down and think of how far I was able to come with the help of my small circle of friends and my future wife Liz. I needed to work on staying in the present for the first time in my life I had a present worth living for, not just going through the motions.

Thank you all for staying with me through all my experiences, and responding with claps, comments and suggestions. As I always say, without you all, none of this is worth it to me.

 

 

 

Graduation Season

 

Image from Logan Isbell
on UnSplash.

It is graduation season around me, and it brought up all sorts of memories of my own graduations. Many far from the usual school graduations everyone thinks about when we think about moving on with life. Plus, it goes much further than just thinking about the pretty new fashions women get to wear on their celebration days. If they choose to do it.

When I look all the way back to my high school graduation days, I always tie it with the prom season which was very close to it. My senior year was actually my second prom, but nothing really changed. I was still very envious of my date’s beautiful prom dress and corsage (which I had to buy her) to add insult to injury. No matter how hard I tried, I wanted the high heeled shoe to be on my foot and not hers and I would be taken out for the evening. Graduation was not as bad as prom because every graduate had to wear the same black gowns, hiding their new fashions until they went to an after-graduation party. But, even so, I still had misgivings about what I was facing following my graduation. As I faced hurdles such as surviving college and the military service which sometime made my gender issues pale in comparison.

Even though I realized a college graduation was in my future too, I did not think of all the other times I would have to graduate in life to survive. Examples included the times in the Army when I needed to graduate basic training all the way to making my way through the “Defense Information School” in Indianapolis. Time was flying by as I transitioned from the college world to the Army and back again three years later when I pursued my second college degree. Aside from brief moments of regression and purging, my desire to be a transfeminine person never went away and was in fact getting stronger. Little did I know I was facing more graduations confined only to how I viewed myself as a person.

Backtracking a bit and going back to my very first time I saw myself in girl’s clothes and makeup in front of a mirror. I realized I had graduated from being a so called “normal” boy forever. Plus, there would be several future gender graduations when I transitioned from being a cross-dresser to a transgender woman and when I began to take HRT or gender affirming hormones under a doctor’s care and took another major step towards my dream of being a fulltime trans woman.

By the time I had gone through all these graduations, even I would have thought I would have grown tired of the process. But I did not. I started to crave the next step in my occupation and my life as a transgender woman. Which put me on a collision course for my future. It came down to which one I would save after the major gender collision in my life. Following years and years of success, one would just have to go. Just trying to look ahead up my winding gender path became a major problem as increasingly carving out a life as a novice transfeminine person on my own terms became a priority over every thing else, I loved in my life.

At this point, my graduations began to slow down and became smaller in nature. Every time I was successful at trying to be the person I always wanted to be, I celebrated my own mini gender victory and resolved to do better on my path. No longer did I have to be envious of the ciswomen around me, since I was allowed to be behind the gender curtain. Which was another graduation for me, as I loved it. It was a major reward for all the work I put into filling out my gender workbook. As a matter of fact, it was the best graduation I had ever had in my life.  If I wanted to, I could wear the pretty dress all the other women around me were wearing.

Until then, I think I was taking all the graduations and transitions I was taking for granted. I was not raised to think anything I did was good enough, so being pleased with my progress towards my dream and being happy about it was a first for me. Ironically, I even was able to use the same restroom in the dinner club I took my second prom date to years later when it became a gay venue. It was as close as I could ever come to reliving the inadequacies I felt so long ago as I looked at myself in the women’s restroom mirror.

Humans are blessed to be able to graduate to many different levels as they transition through life. It is sad because of whatever reason, some people (men and women) are never socialized to make it to a point when they can claim the status of being a man or a woman. They are doomed to never making it past the stage of being male or female and never took the opportunity to graduate to the next level of life. They are the ones who are jealous of and hate transgender women and transgender men for reasons they do not even understand. Often, they are stuck in the past and never have the chance to escape.

If you are busy trying to figure out your next stop on your gender journey, I hope you can take the next careful step and graduate to the level you want to be. In the end, graduation is much more than having a framed certificate for your wall and who would consider having a framed certificate saying you made it to your own form of womanhood above your desk anyhow. Wouldn’t that be something?

Your destination should be your own sense of satisfaction or even happiness because you undertook one of the most difficult journeys a human can take. Congratulations!

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                       

 

The First Time

 

Image from Jon Tyson 
on UnSplash.

Like most of you, as I look back at an increasingly long life, I tend to remember many firsts I accomplished.

Of course, my gender dealings are among the top things I remember along with the first time I had sex with a girl, all the way to the first time I drove a car. I also vividly remember the first prom date I went on and how amazed I was when on the first night of basic training in the Army how many of the men around me were crying. I may have felt like crying too because the military was taking away my makeup, dresses, and wigs but I would be damned if I would cry in public about it.

Through it all, I learned the hard way to wait out the hard times and try to look ahead and not behind me for a better future. The first time I remember it happened was when we were on a long-forced march during the wintertime at Ft. Knox, Kentucky. I was feeling sorry for myself until I looked back and looked at how far I had come. From it I learned a lifetime lesson I could fall back on when I was feeling down. Which was often when I could not have any way to express myself as a feminine person by cross-dressing.

I had no idea when I resumed my civilian life after the Army how much I would have changed when I had the freedom to explore who I was. Even to the point of trying to come out to my mom. I was naïve and thought that even though I was accepted when I came out to anyone for the first time about being a transvestite (as we were called back then) while I was still in the Army, my mom would accept me also. I was wrong and all she offered was a trip to a psychiatrist rather than any understanding. So, my first time coming out to any of my family was a complete failure and the subject was never brought up again. I went back into my gender closet and slammed the door shut again. The only redeeming value I had was my closet was big enough to have a mirror to lie to me about my cross-dressing future when I needed it.

The first time I made a major step into the world as a future transgender woman was when I started to go to Halloween parties where I could express my true self. After a rocky beginning, I settled into a professional woman’s “costume” which brought me acceptance and gave me hope that possibly I could make it to make dream of living fulltime as a transfeminine person if I looked ahead and learned from my experiences.

From those humble Halloween beginnings, I began to explore a number of other firsts on my gender path. I figured if strangers were mistaking me for a woman at the parties I was going to, I would not have to wait another year to do it again and started to visit venues such as clothing stores in big malls as well as safe places such as coffee shops and bookstores. When that worked for me, I expanded my gender outreach into more challenging venues such as restaurants where I needed to interact with more people.

As I began to enjoy my time as a novice trans woman more and more, the problems of how much male baggage I still had began to cause a strain with my mental health which was already fragile. All my male life, I had tried to fight a losing battle to get rid of any possible positive male belongings that I had by moving all around to different jobs and being very self-destructive. Like runaway trains on the same track, the successes I could not wish away were coming at me from the male and female side. I could not shake the fact I had a very successful marriage, a good daughter and great job I had worked hard for so easily as I had imagined. It was the first time in my life I felt bad about being successful.

At the same time all of this was happening, I realized I was transitioning again as my transwoman self. It happened when I grew tired (again) of thinking of myself as a man who was just cross-dressing as a woman into more of a woman myself. It seemed I was facing firsts every week when I snuck out of the house to be myself. I was terrified and excited at the same time with the way my life was unfolding. I had never planned on how my life was turning out, even though I hoped that it would. I never dreamed I could carve out a new life as a transgender woman as quickly as I did.

Now I could look back on all the other first times I could remember as being important and add my series of transitions as a male to female feminized person with them. My first stable communications with other women one on one immediately come to mind as firsts. It was because I was allowed behind the gender curtain in a way I never was when I was acting to be a man. Plus, I can never leave out the impact HRT or gender affirming hormones had on my life. All of a sudden, my inside feelings and external images began to sync up, and my world softened on the hormones. Making many of my previous firsts in life seem minor in comparison. Who cares about marching at Ft. Knox when I could feel so good about myself. Truthfully though, one first led to another and made my life much fuller as I look back on it.

I never realized all the firsts were just a sign of where destiny was leading me in my life and I should have paid more attention when all I wanted to do as a kid was to be a woman when I grew up. I was always a go with the flow as a person, and the flow took me eventually exactly where I wanted to go as a transgender woman…with a lot of help from my friends.

 

 

 

Easter Envy

 

Image from Annie Spratt
on UnSplash. 

Once again, it is Easter and time for some ciswomen to model their new colorful, feminine dresses and accessories to the world.

Like most of you, I remember the envy I felt when once again I needed to be forced into a restrictive suit and tie for one of the rare occasions we went to church. Why couldn’t I be one of the girls in their Easter finery. All the envy in the world I felt did me no good as off to church we went. My parents thought I just did not want to go to church (which I didn’t) but did not realize the real reason. I was just jealous of the girls.

Back in those days, I had very little inkling of how my desire to look like the other girls ran much deeper than I ever thought it would. I was scratching the surface of where I would end up in life as a fulltime transgender woman. I thought it was an innocent hobby that perhaps some day I would grow out of when the opposite happened. I grew into it. If I had any idea of all the growing pains I would feel over the years as I grew into my true self, I don’t know if I would ever undertake the gender path I did.

The truth of the matter is that I did not think I had any choice. I was born into an unforgiving male world that I was expected to excel at. I knew too that if my cross-dressing or gender secret was uncovered, I would be sent to a psychiatrist and told I was mentally ill. I did not know exactly what was going on with me, but I knew I was not mentally ill for just wanting to be feminine. On the other hand, I knew my WWII/Depression era parents would have any idea of what was going on with their eldest son to take any creative measures to help. The first measure would be acceptance. In my wildest dreams, did I ever think they would buy me a pretty new dress for Easter and do away with my suit and tie forever. My parents were simply not built that way so that they could step out of their rigid parenting box to help me. I was stuck in a male world until I could figure a way out on my own.

Over the years, regardless of setbacks such as military service, I was fairly successful in my male life. Which ironically made it harder for me to give it all up and cross the gender border when the time came. One thing I never lost was the envy I felt for all ciswomen who inherited from birth what I wanted so bad. I kept remembering the girls and women in their Easter dresses, even though I rarely wore a dress as I attempted to blend into the world as a woman. It seemed fashion had gone away from the frilly feminine basics once I arrived at the point where I could take advantage of the new world I was in. For years what I did take advantage of was the fashion trend where I could wear oversized sweaters with miniskirts, flats and opaque tights. Sadly, fashion moved on, and I needed to also if I was still going to blend in with the world as a transgender woman. Not only did I have to try to equal the cis women I was around, I needed to be better. So, I went with denim mini’s with long flowing tops to attempt to hide my oversized male torso.

Even with all the effort I was putting in, it never seemed to be enough to compensate myself for not being the pretty girl in her new dress at Easter. Ironically, then I found out from my wife Liz how she was a tomboy and did not like all the frilly Easter fashion she had to wear and was always under inspection from her mom on getting her new white tights dirty. I learned the view of the other gender side was not always the better one. It left the door open for a greater understanding of what females go through to be socialized into women and why some never make it.

This Easter, if you are religious, I hope you have the opportunity to celebrate the true message of the day and you don’t get hung up on what the ciswomen and girls around you are wearing. Although, I don’t see many women getting all dressed up for any reason anymore. Maybe if I attended any sort of church services at all, I would.

At any rate, celebrate Easter in your world the best you can!

 

 

 

 

 

Honesty was Always the Best Policy

 

Image from Jon Tyson on 
UnSplash. 

Very early on in my life, I thought my default mechanism to anyone challenging my masculinity would be to lie about it. Fortunately, I did not have to take that route often because of all the elaborate ways I utilized to hide my feminine desires. Examples were the times I was competing in sports or working on cars. People close to me just assumed I was a “normal” male.

It wasn’t until much later in life when I began to get serious about dating women, did honesty become a real priority when it came to explaining my life. My first experience with telling a woman I was serious about, has been relayed several times here as recently as in the last several days. She is the one I coerced into dressing me head to toe as a woman which was the first time a ciswoman had attempted to do it for me. The whole plan turned out to be a disaster because of so many things. As I have mentioned before, I just wasn’t that impressed with the outcome she presented to me as she applied my makeup and the long blond wig I so desperately wanted. By then, I had spent years doing my own makeup and I thought I did a better job.

Little did I know that disappointment would only be the beginning of many with her. Being honest in our relationship early on led to an engagement but then a total break up because of a date I had with Uncle Sam and the Vietnam War. Rather than support me as I served, my then fiancé insisted I tell the draft board and the world I was gay to try to not get drafted which would have been a total lie. I knew I was a cross dresser but also had a pretty good idea I was not gay. Instead of wrecking my personal life as I knew it, we broke the engagement and went on our not so merry ways. I knew where I was headed, the US Army for three years. It was not the most pleasant time I ever spent in my life, but at least I was honest with myself.

Time went by in the Army until I found myself in a place to exercise some of my cross-dressing desires by going to a hospital Halloween party I was invited to by friends. By doing so, I through caution to the wind and decided to go all out dressed as a woman. I only had about eight months or so to go in the Army, so I was willing to risk getting in trouble to satisfy my need to cross-dress after such a long time of being denied.

All three of my closest friends that I socialized with all the time were at the party too, and as luck would have it, several weeks later, the subject of our “costumes” came up after a long night of enjoying very good German beer. When my turn came to talk about how I had went to all the effort to femininize myself for one night (including shaving my legs), I finally just was honest with my friends and told them I was a transvestite and the Halloween party was far from being just a one night deal of seeing what it would be like to dress as a woman. It was the first time I had ever admitted to anyone that I had a fondness for being a woman, so it was quite the liberating experience.

It was also a far-reaching experience because included in my group of friends was a woman who I got to know quite well. So, well in fact that later on we went on to be married and she became the mother of my only daughter who I cherish to this day and is one of my biggest supporters. Obviously, from day one in our relationship, she was aware of my feminine desires and accepted them.

Much of the same happened with my second wife, who was much more strong willed than wife number one. Even so, I felt honesty was the best policy and I nervously told her again I was a transvestite or cross-dresser before we were married. Ironically, the problem came with me not cheating on her with myself. What I was increasingly doing was doing exactly what I had sworn not to do. Leave the house dressed as a woman. By doing so, I broke one of the main bonds of our marriage which was not lying to her about what I was doing all the time.

Needless to say, like any other ciswoman, my second wife had keen instincts of what I was doing and was constantly on the outlook for things like extra forgotten makeup on my face when I was out and about as a novice trans woman. Since I prided myself in the rest of my life on my honesty, the constant lying I was doing to the woman I loved broke my heart. Especially when I could not stop doing it.

My heart was further shattered when she passed away quite unexpectedly from a massive heart attack and I was on my own after twenty-five years of marriage. The only redeeming thing I did was completely purge my feminine side for six months before she died. Even to the point of growing a beard. It was the only thing I could do to try to redeem myself.

Ironically, her death forced open the biggest door to my honesty there was, being honest with myself. When I looked deep, I found that all along I had been just wasting my time trying to be a man with all the privilege that came with it. I had learned to play the male game effectively but did not want any thing to do with my gender prizes after I won them. Being honest with myself for a change was the best feeling of all except I did feel guilty about all the stress and tension I had put others through because of my inner weakness. Total honesty certainly would have been the best policy in my life.

 

 

 

 

I Needed Help

 

Image from Kelly Sikkema on UnSplash.

Starting at the very beginning of my long gender journey, it seemed I needed help at every turn.

For the longest time, I thought any ciswoman could help me improve my major concern of just looking as feminine as I could. When it finally happened to me in my college days, I was so practiced in the art of makeup, I thought I could still do a better job than the woman who was working on me. I was truly disappointed and all I ended up doing was out myself as a transvestite (or cross-dresser) to someone who would hold it against me later in life. Lesson learned and it took me years to trust anyone at all with my secret. Ironically, my secret carried over all the way to the transgender-crossdresser mixer where I had the courage to take off my wig and makeup and experience the makeup magic of a professional artist. “He” was able to work wonders with my appearance and even explain what he was doing. More than any ciswoman had ever been able to do for me. So it wasn’t a woman at all who helped me initially, it was a man.

As the years flew by though, the next help I tried was therapy. I needed it to help save my long-term marriage to my second wife who was always against me leaving the house as a transfeminine person. Several times, when she caught me, I volunteered to go therapy to hopefully solve my “problem”. It turns out, therapy ran the gamut for me from very good to very bad. But overall, the good was very good and outdid the very bad, where the therapist did not know anything about gender issues or even care to learn by listening to me. I even went to the extent of driving a long distance to one of the only practicing gender therapists in Ohio at that time. She was good and even was the first therapist to diagnose my Bi-polar depression at a time when I had to fight a major battle just to get out of bed and go to work.

On top of that, she gave me the best advice that I have never listened to. That she could do nothing about me wanting to be a girl. Only I could fight that battle, if I chose to. As I said, I chose not to listen and went on to fight a losing gender battle for years which turned out to be a waste of time and energy.

The next therapist of note that I had turned out to be a match made in heaven by such a place as the Veterans’ Administration. When I applied for gender affirming hormones under VA’s new program way back then, I had to go through therapy to be approved. It ended up working so well that not only did my new therapist pave the way for HRT, but she also ended up producing the paperwork I needed to change my legal gender markers within the VA and in the outside world too. I was with her for years before she moved on to another hospital and now the only therapy, I need is the LGBTQ support group meeting I attend most every Friday.

As you can tell, therapy has been a mixed blessing for me. At times, it is a total waste of time and energy but at other times a real-life saver. Perhaps it was my own fault because I did not understand you can only get out of therapy what you put into it. Being the self-contained, stubborn person that I am, it took me a while to understand what I was trying to accomplish.

As I backed off therapy as my major impact in my male to female femininization process, I began to rely on my dealings with the public to get me by in life. I still needed major help, but I needed to find different places to find it. That is where my socialization process as a transgender woman became so valuable. Since I had become a social person as a male before my wife and close friends had all passed away, I was intensely lonely with no where to turn except to my inner feminine self.

She guided me slowly to a spot where I still needed help but could hide it. What I mean is I could learn from every social interaction I encountered. The small group of ciswomen I socialized with became my teachers and even my protectors without them even realizing it. I was going through a master’s class in gender at such a rapid pace I could not believe my good fortune. For the first time in my life, other women were coming to me for help as a transgender woman. They sensed my background in both the major binary genders could prove to be valuable lessons for them as women with men.

It felt good to me to be able to pay forward in any small way I could any of the lessons I had learned the hard way. Being with therapy or any other help I could give. It is another reason I decided to start blogging about my gender dysphoria so many years before. It is interesting to read any of those ancient posts and see how many of them just revolved my appearance as a cross dresser before I transitioned into a full-time trans woman.

Sometimes too, help can come in ways when you least expect it. From a supporting spouse, all the way to finding your whole new LGBTQ community, there are many ways to find help. Hopefully, you can find your own help. No matter how large or small it could be. Just be ready to accept it when it is offered.