A Day at the Coffee Shop

 

Transgender Outreach Image
University of Cincinnati. JJ Hart

My first meeting with the Pulitzer prize winning television journalist lasted nearly two hours and went well I think. 

Of course with the new current state of affairs we are dealing with in the transgender world, I was a little nervous. Ironically, my nerves were settled a bit when another customer stepped forward and purchased my coffee. While I am positive he was not overwhelmed by my beauty, perhaps in his own way he was supporting the transgender community. Regardless the journalist arrived and we began the interview, nerves and all.

Looking back at the time we spent, it is rather difficult to sort out all the details. In no real specific order we began discussing my work with the Cincinnati's Alzheimer's diversity council and how I became involved. It turned out the network I developed with the statewide (Ohio) article I did for the "Buckeye Flame" issue which was read by the journalist and he wanted to know more. That is where the meeting today came in.

Along the way, we covered almost all my life and how I arrived at the place I am today and of course what the election meant to me. I did mention I was surprised a television station would want to do an interview with a transgender woman after all we had just gone through. Essentially, he responded he liked doing stories outside of the ordinary and we started to go through my life I quickly centered the conversation on the fact I had led a fairly normal life for someone of my generation. I grew up playing football, graduated with two degrees and had served my time in the military with the American Forces Radio and Television Service. 

All of the time I served in all the different capacities of my life have led me to believe I am not much different than any other transgender person. As our lives pass us by we acquire family, friends and occupations we need to get and then need to get rid of as we change. The point I was trying to get across was we trans folk are really not that much different than anybody else and certainly not the monsters the election set us up to be.

We ended the interview with another appointment for him to join me for an upcoming walk when I sometimes come up with ideas to write about daily. 

It was an exciting day and I am looking forward to more outreach if I can do some good.   

Hitting the Transgender Wall

 

Image from Selin 
on UnSplash

There were so many times during my journey to finding my authentic self that I hit a wall or two or more. 

The easy walls came when I was younger and was trying to find makeup and wardrobe items to admire myself in the mirror. During that time and into the future, finances were a major set back. As much as I admired the pretty clothes the girls around me were wearing, I just did not have the money to afford any of them. There was no way I could go to my parents and ask for a pretty dress for my birthday or Christmas. Plus, I was stuck at a major point of my overall femininized image when it came to my hair. In those days, I was stuck with very short hair cuts such as burr or crew cuts and there was no way I could afford a wig. A major wall, to be sure as I think having the first wig I cherished did not come around until my college years in the late 1960's till the early 1970's when my military days took over. Of course I was against the wall again when my hair needed to be kept very short.

After I had served my time in the Army, I was able to secure the finances to afford a more update feminine wardrobe and my walls began to take on a more mental aspect with me. The more I was able to sneak out of the house and into the public, the more I knew I had little or no knowledge of where I wanted to go as a novice transgender woman. It seemed everything was being thrown at me at once and my mental health crumbled after I was hitting many walls at once. My male life was becoming more and more demanding as I became successful at my job and I discovered the more I explored the female world, the more I liked it. 

Even so, climbing the feminine walls were difficult. It seemed everytime I mastered one aspect of being a transgender woman such as walking, I would catch my heel in the crack of a sidewalk and ruin my whole day. As I continued along my bumpy gender path, I found mishaps with walking in heels were indeed minor in the scope of my transgender life. On the horizon loomed much more serious walls such as communication with the public and with women in particular. Overwhelmingly, men ignored me and women were curious about what I was doing in their world, I discovered quite quickly I was interacting with more women than I had ever done as a guy which was scary in many ways, including what would I say and how would I say it. 

I wondered what had I done when I was forced to actually talk the talk of the person I had become. I resorted to what had worked for me in the past as I had encountered tough trans walls to climb. I basically tried to shut my mouth and observe what was going around me. It worked to an extent until people (women) began to warm up to the new person I had become. I even was giving other women advice on how to understand their boyfriends or spouses. 

Anyway you cut it, I guess for me, gender affirming hormones created the last major wall for me to climb. At the time, I was doing my best to appear as a woman and communicate as one to the world. Beginning the hormones in many ways was a selfish move because I did it for myself. When I did, instead of more walls crashing down, they melted. HRT, when I was approved for it was a magic potent stimulant my body had been craving for years. Very quickly, I knew I had made the right move as I was able to tear the final walls down and make my way into fulltime transgender womanhood. 

Surely, I was bruised and battered by hitting all the transgender walls I needed to scale to live the life I wanted but I made it. When I look back on all the terrifying yet exciting steps I took to get to where I am mow, I wonder how I made it. First there was my appearance and battling testosterone poisoning then overcoming the problems of male behavior which also effected my life that all made for a rough journey. Surely there were too many walls to count.   

Options or Paradise

 

Liz on Left, out to eat! 

During our gender transitions, many times we have the choice of options or paradise. 

Often, options come about as not being a choice. Examples include all the days we had to rush around and hide our feminizations from our family and friends. We had no option but to hide our truths. For some if us also, our cross dressing options never became any better when we had to pursue stints in the military. Certainly, the military provided every roadblock in the world for pursuing any route to paradise for gender conflicted individuals. 

As a whole, back then, paradise was very difficult to achieve. In fact I can now refer rare paradise as gender euphoria. For many years and even decades my gender balance never changed. I was still sneaking around risking life as I knew it to momentarily express my true inner gender. Fortunately, I had the time to work on perfecting my femininized presentation. When I finally was able to pursue paradise by going out in public, I was closer than before to achieving success. In fact, once I learned to blend in with  other women in the world, I was more likely to find a fleeting sense of paradise. 

Usually, my paradise did not last long because I needed to quickly return to my male world which I was increasingly feeling uncomfortable in. I was desperately seeking other options to find more gender euphoria other than the annual Halloween parties I was going to as a woman. The parties and the transvestite/ transsexual mixers I started to go to helped me to understand the gap I was facing when I considered the ultimate outcome of where I wanted to go with my life. Instead of just embracing the usual male attributes in life, I needed to include the very real possibility I would have the option to live life out as a transgender woman. The reason I thought this way was I encountered paradise when I was experiencing the world as my true authentic self. I felt so natural and wondered why I had waited so long to do it.

What if I had experienced paradise a decade earlier than I did when I went to a TGIF restaurant and bar determined to mix with other single women. Maybe I was just waiting for the world to catch up to me but more than likely the opposite was happening. I had the options to catch up to the world and I took the chance. By the time I ventured out into the world, I had certainly paid my dues and was  ready to reap the benefits. 

Still I was frustrated when the benefits of my new life were just out of reach. Such as the times when I was so comfortable in my new feminine world I actually forgot where I was and caught myself slipping back into a male mode. I still did not have the full closure from my old male self I so desperately needed. I kept running into unexpected roadblocks and stop signs on my gender path such as a spouse's death which changed my ideas of where I was headed but not for long. Soon with fewer and fewer options to consider as well as a solid new life I was building, paradise was closer than ever before. 

As transgender women or trans men, we often experience periods of options or paradise as we follow our difficult, unique gender paths which separate us from other humans. The whole journey hopefully makes paradise worth it.  

Trans Weariness

A night out with my wife Liz on left.

Over the span of my life, I have gone through more than a few bouts of weariness.

I was especially tired of being made fun of when it took me many trips to the clothing stores to finally find the correct fashion so I could blend in with other women well enough to get by. Marching to the beat of my own fashion drum was certainly not getting the results I wanted. It got so bad, strangers were stopping me in stores to ask for pictures and not in a good way.

I kept working through all the dark days until the gender clouds parted and I could actually see glimpses of my authentic feminine self. The whole process now happily seems so far away but the process still scars me in so many ways. Especially all the times, I came home in tears following being laughed at after my mirror had lied to me and told me I was an amazing woman. It took me years of work to prove the doubters wrong and I could actually live a successful life as a transgender woman. My biggest problem came from the fact my biggest doubter was my male self. I grew so weary of him telling me I could never live my dream life as a trans woman. 

In many ways too, I grew weary of being a cross dresser and wanted more out of life. It took me trying several terrifying experiences in public to change my mindset around into who I really was. I was right when I was so young when I thought I wanted more than to just look like a woman, I wanted to be a woman. My problem was, life kept getting in my way. Through my formative years of high school and beyond, I had the very real threat of being drafted into the military hanging over my head. Most certainly, I would have a three year break in my quest to determine my gender needs. I was more fortunate than many my age and escaped combat in Vietnam and even got away with coming out for the first time to a few close Army friends after a Halloween party when I told them I was a transvestite. Coming out was an enlightening experience until I was out of the Army and attempted to come out to my Mom. I was roundly rejected and ended back up firmly in my closet. 

In those days, Halloween parties were my salvation from the weariness I felt from everyday male life. Even though they were few and far between, the parties allowed me to get out of the house and interact with the world as a very novice cross dresser or transgender woman. I was able to learn the basics of what I would need to do to survive in a new world I was considering trying. From the Halloween parties I was able to find and participate in transvestite mixers in nearby towns to where I lived. At the social events, I was able to see and interact with others in the cross dressing community so I could judge where I was at and where I wanted to go. When I did, life became less wearisome and I had an exciting reason to look ahead at my next feminine adventure. 

By this time, I was ready to come out of my unwanted male world even further and I was learning so much life took on a new meaning. I learned what transgender meant to me and how I fit in in the trans world which had many layers to it. More than a few of the layers were less than positive and I began to ignore them or called them "trans Nazi's" and rapidly moved on. Basically, they were the people who held their self esteem above others due to the number of gender surgeries they had undergone. Since I had not (and never have) undergone any genital realignment surgeries, they assumed they were better than me. Rejection was quick on my part.

Weariness ceased to be a problem when everytime I went out into the world as a transgender woman I was learning something new. It could be something small such as a fashion error all the way to a huge learning experience of losing my male privilege in personal safety. When I almost ended up hurt. From it all, I ended up learning and doing better.

I guess I should say too, how much my life changed when I started gender affirming hormones. Weariness with my old male self certainly went away as all the changes were different, surprising and rapid. 

Life became like a roller coaster. Once I reached the top and headed down, it was thrilling.

 

It Has Never Been a Sprint

 

Image from Marcus
Spiske on UnSplash

A transgender life is never a sprint, it is a marathon. 

From the first time we slide on the hose and view ourselves in a mirror, we never believe the gender journey we have started would last as long as it did. Initially for me, I was on a very short term program when I would cross dress as a girl one day and live off the proverbial buzz until I could follow my dream and cross dress again. 

I wonder now if I had known the journey I followed would have so many bumps in the road and would have lasted so long would I have still done it. On the other hand, I was never a sprinter and a marathon was a closer match to my personality. Plus, there were milestones along the way which kept me going. Very early on, I knew I needed much more than just the feel of women's clothes to propel me forward. There just had to be more than just looking like a girl, I wanted to do more and be a girl. I knew the journey would be difficult and maybe impossible but I needed to keep trying. 

First of all, I needed to learn the basics of feminine appearance so I could safely explore the world as my new exciting self. With no help and very little money, I haunted the thrift stores trying different wardrobe items which were very inexpensive until I finally began to see improvement. My sprint during the time in my life when I was experimenting more and more was exhausting. The one thing which was evident to me was I was on my own. To win or lose was my passion but first I needed to see away around surviving a stint in the military where I could not express my feminine self. Fortunately, I could fall back on what my male self had taught me about internalizing my feelings. During my three years of military service, I managed to survive without cross dressing except for one notable Halloween party which led to me coming out to a few friends of mine as a transvestite. Included in the group of three was a woman who was to become my first wife and the mother of my only child. This brief sprint set the stage for me coming out to others in the future. 

For awhile, I was over confident about others accepting my authentic self until a conversation with my Mom brought me back down to earth. She soundly rejected me and I was off I pursuing my gender marathon again. Even with the set back, I had plenty of energy to move forward. Move forward I did, regardless of living with an unapproving wife. I needed to hide nearly all of what I was doing as I ran my next sprint. 

By this time, my sprints were becoming more defined as  I was increasingly discovering my dream of living a fulltime life as a transgender woman just could be a reality. Next up on my sprint were gender affirming hormones and making the decision to never look back where I had come from as a male and plan ahead a life as a transgender woman. 

The only constant I found on my gender marathon was change. Every time I thought I had it made in the process, something came along to disrupt my thinking. It could be as minor as being mis-gendered in the world or so much more now as I reach the twi-light of my life. Now making it to the finish line of my gender marathon in the best shape possible is my main goal.

Teamwork makes the Dreamwork as a Trans Woman

Girls Night Out, I am on the bottom far left.

Similar to so many other cross dressers or novice transgender women I have heard from, they dream of enlisting a cis-woman to aid in their appearance.

I was included in having a similar fantasy. All the way to the point of begging my fiancé to completely dress me as a woman if I rented an out of the way motel room for privacy. Sadly, for me, she agreed and she did do her best to dress me as the woman of my dreams.  I say sadly for two reasons. The first being I did not see that much of an improvement over what I was able to do for myself since by that time I had practiced in the mirror myself for years. The second reason I say sadly came years later when I was facing being drafted into the military and being sent off to Vietnam. At the time she pressed me to tell the draft board I was gay to be deferred from going. Even though I didn't and don't have anything against the gay community, I knew I wasn't gay and wasn't going to lie to escape military service. The end result was she ended up breaking the engagement when I went off to the Army which I learned later was the best thing which could have happened in my life to that point.

As you can tell, I didn't have anyone to enable my teamwork work from any sort of a dream work. One of the problems I was having was working my way through exactly what my gender dream. I was still years away from facing my reality of being a transgender woman. So I suffered alone with my gender dysphoria before I was able to break out of my gender closet. It wasn't until much later when I discovered the beneficial beauty of having cis-woman friends who accepted the new transgender me for who I was. When I let it happen, my dreamwork began to flourish. 

Quickly I began to learn the world from the aspect of being an invited participant in girls' nights out. I was invited along to several different groups of women. All the way from married women to younger girls still in the dating pool. Neither mattered to me because I was learning so much about living a women's life with no men around. Even though when I went out with the younger group, I found how it was to be the decidedly older and less attractive woman in the group. Again, it didn't matter as I flattered and happy to be invited to begin with. 

This was an exciting time of my life when all of a sudden my dream of living a life of a fulltime transgender woman seemed to be so reachable. Being included and  embraced by the women I met was the difference. We went to birthday dinners together, went to parties with each other and of course used the rest room together, All of which turned into the ultimate bonding experience as a new trans woman.

Was I scared? Sure I was but the embraces I received within the group quickly put me at ease so I could enjoy myself and gain confidence in the new feminine person I was creating. It turned out I did not have much creating to do because once my feminine soul hit the world, she flourished. 

Even still, being in a women's world and experiencing their teamwork, did make the dream work happen for me. I was a better person for it once I left my gender dysphoria behind. My mental health improved as well as everything else in my life once I left my male self behind.

A Point of No Return

 

Image from the Jessie Hart
Archives.

For nearly a half a century I considered myself a more or less serious cross dresser or transvestite. In addition, I considered the transvestite label little more than just that, a label which was appropriate just to  use around others. Even though I rarely told anyone else about my gender issues.

The only people I can remember telling would number under ten before I finally came out into the world as a novice transgender woman. The first people I ever trusted enough to share my biggest secret oddly enough were friends I had in the Army. My disclosure came after I risked what was left of my time in the Army by dressing totally as a woman for a Halloween party.  Following the party, several weeks later under the influence of great German beer, the subject of the party came up. Of course then, the conversation went to what our costumes were. 

When the subject turned to me and how good I looked, I gathered the courage and told the three others the night was not the first time I had cross dressed as a woman and in fact I was a transvestite. I ended up taking a major leap of faith telling them because I still had approximately six or seven months to go on my enlistment and conceivably I could have encountered problems if the gender information I disclosed got into the wrong hands. After making it so far towards an honorable discharge, I certainly did not want to destroy the time I had put in. Plus, what would I tell my friends and family at home when I arrived back there early. 

To make a long story short, nothing negative happened with telling my friends I was in reality a transvestite and the experience was very liberating. On the other hand, I was not going to tell the rest of the world my secret. Of importance is the fact one of the people I told that night turned out to be the mother of my child and future wife. So I did not have to worry about telling her once we became married. I see her to this day and we still get along. Sadly, the other two friends I told are now deceased and I lost track of them almost completely before they passed. 

All of this brings me to the next person I told which was my Mom. It happened one night shortly after I was discharged and I was living at home for a very short while. One night when I came home from partying with my friends she was waiting up for me just like back in my college days. Somehow the conversation turned to my life and what I was up to. Out of the clear blue sky I decided to tell her my deepest secret about being a transvestite. I was still feeling liberated from telling my friends in the Army and felt secure in telling her, betting she would never tell my Dad. Just about the time I was feeling good about including Mom in my world, she turned around and roundly rejected me. All she really did was offer to pay for psychiatric care to solve the problem. Very quickly I rejected her offer and said no one was going to, in essence, plug me into a socket for electro-shock therapy.  From then on until she died, the subject of my growing gender dysphoria was never brought up again. 

The last person I came out to when I was still in my gender closet was my second wife. I write extensively concerning our gender battles but the fact remains she supported me as a cross dresser until I began my transition into a transgender woman. In essence, over the span of our twenty five year marriage, we just grew apart until her untimely death. 

Once I reached the point of no return in my male to female gender transition. there was no point in worrying about telling anyone I was transgender. It was obvious to the public who interacted with me what I was and they were left to draw their own conclusion. All of a sudden, all the pressure was off of me. All I needed to do was to do my best to present to the public who I really was. Plus, I would be remiss if I did not mention the roles gender affirming hormones played in my experiences. I was so happy with the results I was experiencing, I never wanted to go back to a testosterone filled life. For once, a plan came together for me and the point of no return never had to be challenged. 

Outreach Revisited

Trans Flag over Cincinnati City Hall.

This week has come and gone, along with  the two outreach events I had.  One was easier than the other. The first was our virtual meeting of the local Cincinnati Alzheimer's group I am a part of. 

The second was much more difficult for several different reasons. The first one was I needed to be there in person. Which meant I needed to navigate the congested area of the University of Cincinnati campus where the Transgender Wellness Clinic was being held. Of course, as predicted, the GPS on my phone wouldn't work, so I made several wrong turns along the way before I made it. 

Once I did manage to arrive, I received a warm welcome plus the closest parking spot available for the event. In fact, the walking distance to the elevators was very close and a welcome respite for the long, congested drive. 

Since the Wellness Clinic was held on a college campus, the crowd was predictably young. As far as the panel itself went, I was a little disappointed in that I was by far the elder of the group. I thought several others in my age category would volunteer to come but I learned they all turned down coming except for me. The organizer said they expressed fear when approached about coming. From that point onward, I made a point of me not having any fear of being seen in public and I am slowly but surely trying to get out more. No matter how stressful it may be. 

As far as questions went, most of them revolved on how times have changed since all the panel members came out of their gender closets. Even though, most of the other panelists were half my age, several of them came out approximately the same time I did, since they had the courage to follow their inner souls faster than I did. Since I have known several of them for years, the reunion was fun. Plus, there was quite a bit of good group interaction from the panel. Even better, was when I found out how many people listened to my introduction and picked up on the fact I am a transgender veteran and thanked me for my service. 

I left the panel feeling better about the world after urging the younger generation to stay politically active and fight all the negative political changes which are under court challenges here in Ohio. On the positive side also, the trans woman who invited me to the Wellness event also was able to raise the transgender flag over the Cincinnati City Hall.   

The trip home was predictably the same with me making the wrong turns and getting lost but somehow I found my way. Which might also describe my gender journey. Don't panic, just try to find another route and keep moving towards a goal. My only main problem I encountered was a huge interstate traffic jam caused by a bad accident. After I arrived home, I finally had a chance to look back with pride that I was included in such a wonderful event. 

Pictures were taken and if I see any, I will pass them along to all of you. 

Mom Approved

Image from Kelly Sikkema
on UnSplash

 
Very few transgender women or trans men have the benefit of an approving Mother. I can't imagine my Mom ever providing me the fashion or the help to become the girl I strongly wanted to become. 

My parents were members of the "greatest generation" who went through the great depression and WWII. Both of those major events certainly shaped them into individuals who were strong on providing for a family and weak on emotional support. Which was exactly what I needed. My Dad's family was very male dominated and my brother and I were expected to follow in his footsteps. Wanting to be feminine at all did not fit in to the advance family plans my parents had for their eldest son. I was expected to grow up, go to college and marry into my social class or higher. Quickly I was discovering, I had different ideas.

Even though I was busy playing sports and working on other male activities. I can't say I excelled at any of them but I tried my best. One thing is for sure, I was on my own because there was no way I could ever bring up my true gender feelings to my parents. Especially my Mom, who often took the lead in raising my brother and I. So, I was solidly hidden away in my dark lonely closet until I could break out much later in life. 

Through it all, I still sought out my parents approval. My Dad was very difficult to out due because he was very much the stereotypical self made man. He built his own house and rose to a bank VP position with a high school diploma. He served in the Army Air Corps in WWII, so at least my military duty in many ways corresponded to his. My brother on the other hand thanks to a high draft number, never had to serve at all. It took until I was out of the Army for me to try to come out to my Mom. One night after drinking with my friends, she was waiting up for me (before I could move out into my own place) and I blurted out I was a transvestite. I don't know what kind of a reaction I thought I would get but it was anything but the negative one I received. She recoiled and immediately volunteered to pay for therapy which in those days was the approved method for dealing with gender dysphoria. I basically said go to hell and that was the last time it was it ever brought up to her. And I never came out to my Dad either before his death at the age of 86. 

It took my daughter to break the chain of family disapproval of transgender issues and help with our over all family mental health. Growing up, my oldest grandchild (a girl) kept showing signs to my daughter she was having issues with her gender. When she was mad at Mom, she would say things such as what if I liked girls instead of boys. Since all three of my grandkids knew I was transgender, threatening my daughter with gender issues was pointless. Now my eldest grandchild goes by the "they" pronouns, has a partner and goes to The Ohio State University. Needless to say, I am so proud of my daughter and her family. It shows how much can change in a generation or two in a family. 

Even though my Mom never approved of my feminine soul and I never had her input on my cross dressing desires, I understand now she was just a product of her generation. During her later years, she was a little difficult to deal with, so as I said, we never discussed my gender issues again. I wish now I would have given her the opportunity. 

To make up for it, I adopted her first name as my new legal middle name when I changed my gender markers years ago. It was the best I could do to bury any lingering resentment I may feel. Maybe somewhere now, I am Mom approved as the daughter she never had.   

Jealousy Issues

Image from the Jessie Hart 
Archives.

Many times during my life, my relationship with women or even girls went from being envious all the way to being out and out jealous. Christmas was a prime example when I had to sit back and watch my girl cousins in their pretty new dresses and outfits while I was stuck in my boring shirt and tie feeling something like a stuffed sausage. Not to mention the gifts they received versus my unwanted boy toys. The best I could hope for was to receive a small amount of cash for a gift which I could use to sneak out and buy me makeup or other feminine items.

When I was younger, I always held out the hope my life would change for the better but it never did around women until much later. 

In middle school when the puberty hormones began to kick in for both genders, my feelings of jealousy began to increase also. Here I was developing unwanted angles to my body as well as extra facial hair while the girls around me were gaining curves was sometimes unbearable. Testosterone poisoning was ruining my life and every night I would go to sleep wishing I could wake up with all the attributes the girls around me had. Of course that never happened and life went on the best as possible.

On top of all my other gender envy, the Vietnam War began to be a very real risk for me. Spending time in the military away from my all too brief cross dressing time in front of the mirror was a reality I never wanted to face, until I did. In addition, how fair was it, the women around me never had to face such a bump in the road? I kept thinking why me until I was drafted and went ahead and served my time in the military the same as my Dad before me and as my friends around me. Tragically, I knew a few friends who only returned in boxes. Proving death was a very real threat.

Even though I was still very jealous of the women around me, I attempted to channel my envy in a positive manner. I say try because I know now looking back how I failed. There were so many times, I didn't bother to notice or take the effort to mention how attractive my wife looked. All the time I knew how insecure she was and I should have stepped up to help her, more than I ever did. Looking back, I was too jealous of her because she was living the life I wanted to live. Then she was gone (passed away) and I never had the chance to recoup my losses. 

In place of my jealousy issues, I tried my best to learn more and more about a woman's real life and why I never should have been as envious or jealous as I became. I never took a moment to stop and realize the other gender grass wasn't always as green as I thought it was. As I pursued a life as a transgender woman on gender affirming hormones, I discovered a new world beyond one with all the white male privileges I took for granted. Such as just having a portion of my daily respect automatically given to me because of my gender. The main privileges were job advancement and personal security. 

Cis-women on the other hand have to go through the intense hormonal changes their body goes through to prepare them for possible motherhood. Periods and later on, menopause are just a few of the problems women have to face more dramatically than men. I always thought too, it would have been better to have been the gender which was the prettier one as well as the pursued one as men always needed to be the one to ask someone out. I so badly wanted to be the one who was invited which was partially because I was always so shy around women or girls. 

Fortunately I don't think my jealousy issues ever reached a toxic level. More or less I just retreated into my gender shell and hoped for a better day to come. Which it did when at the age of sixty I finally came out full time as a transgender woman. After a lifetime of studying women, I think I took the shorter path to my gender freedom, while at the same time putting all of my gender envy behind me. In many ways each of the binary genders has their own weights to bear as they go through life. 

The best we can hope for is, the process makes us stronger. 

  

Trying too Hard

Photo from the 
Jessie Hart Archives

As I was attempting to find my way in a new feminine world, I caught myself trying too hard to succeed. 

I tried too hard primarily when I tried to upgrade my presentation as a very serious cross dresser or novice transgender woman. The biggest problem I was having was, concentrating just on how I presented was the wrong path to take...if I took it too seriously. What I mean is, I needed to appear the best I could without going overboard and opening myself up to scorn or negative pushback. I was stubborn and held on to my hard earned previous ideas and took quite a while until I arrived at the point where I could blend in with other women close to my age. 

Now I wish I could have seen the light at the end of my gender tunnel was not the train and was actually a light which would shine bright on my future as a transgender woman. I just had to reach out and grab it if I had the courage. I was far from being any sort of a hero or role model, I was simply a person desperate to find herself and find my way down my gender path. It turned out, lessons I had previously learned in my male life came back to really help me. A prime example was my biggest lesson from Army basic training. A friend of mine who went through basic ahead of me said don't listen to drill sergeant threats and as soon as you got into shape there wasn't much else they could do to you. I connected the dots to the public scorn I received early on as a cross dresser. Once I recovered and learned what I did wrong, I could move on to be successful. 

At this point, defining success is important. Success to me became when I relaxed to the point where I could enjoy myself to a point. Often my male and female selves were fighting a serious battle for my soul. Of course my male self did not want to give up all the privileges he earned the hard way in a life he never really wanted. At the same time my strong feminine self was still wondering and waiting when her turn would come. It finally did work out for her and she didn't have to try too hard to enjoy it.

In fact, the whole time she was struggling to see the light, she was learning what she would need to do when her chance came. Now, life has come to her naturally and she is able to enjoy it. No more obsessing about what would happen next as far as her gender is concerned. Now fashion can be fun again and not so much of a chore wondering if everything works together. 

During the holidays, since my daughter has converted to Judaism, and my wife Liz is Wiccan, I don't have to try too hard anymore to find the perfect gift. 

On occasion, at my age, I think I have paid my dues primarily on my gender path. Now I can hope for the best as my life nears its end. Not being a pessimist, I am seventy four and no one lives forever and I consider myself fortunate to be one of the few humans to have experienced a life on both sides of the main binary genders.  

I Wish

Ralphie from the
Christmas Story Movie...

 Christmas is perhaps the peak holiday of the year to wish for things you may never receive. 

I always thought my wish was the impossible dream . It was to wake up in  the morning and leave my old male self behind. If I had my way, which I never did, if anyone asked what I wanted as a gift. I wanted so badly to be gifted a doll or a toy kitchen to play with. I was so deeply hidden in my boy life, all I received as gifts were boy things such as BB Guns. If you are a fan of the movie "A Christmas Story" as I am, I was the direct opposite of the child star "Ralphie". In the movie, he wished and hoped for a "Daisy" BB Gun, which he finally received. I, on the other hand was gifted a Daisy and all I really got in return was shot in the arm by my brother. 

In those days, I did quite a bit of wishing I was a girl. When we went on vacation one year, I spent the boring times on the interstate highway looking for, then admiring teen girls in other cars. Especially a dark haired beauty I remember who I really wanted to be. I ended up putting my pillow over my head and existed somehow until we stopped the next time. In fact, my whole life was just existing until the next time I could sneak around and put on my feminine clothes. 

I don't know what I was thinking but I was never sure what my older years would be. The only certainty at the time was the likelihood I would have to serve time in the military because of the Vietnam War which seemingly was endless. I just knew my search to be my authentic self would have to be on hold at some point. I say search because I was never certain what the ultimate gender question with me would be. 

As I have detailed in several earlier posts, when the holiday shopping season turned out to eclipse Halloween as my favorite holiday. I learned so much about my feminine self during this time of the year while at the same time I was gifting others. The end result was I could indeed at least live a life as a transgender woman if I wanted to. All the wishing I had endured in my life could finally end and reality could set in. 

It all turned out I was gifting myself with the ultimate gift I ever could receive. Before you think such a gift was selfish, it was a desperately needed gift I needed to even survive. Attempting to live in a world I never wanted was killing me, literally.  It wasn't much longer when I decided to write about my life in the hope it could help others who may have gender issues. 

This Christmas, I hope you are able to celebrate the holiday as you see fit, religious or not. I know this is the most difficult time of the year when LGBTQ+ and primarily transgender individuals suffer. Too many of us have lost family (including me) for just being ourselves. Sadly, all I can really do is wish you the best and as always thanks so much for taking the time to stop by Cyrsti's Condo. 
 

Veterans Weekend

 

Civil War Cemetery image from 
the Jessie Hart archives.  

Since I am a veteran of the Army during the Vietnam War era, I feel as if I can expand the observance of Veterans Day to more than one day.

Veterans I think should be recognized for their service as well as their sacrifice. It should be noted many vets joined the military to try to outrun their gender issues. Or, the well worn, the military will make me a man theory. More than a few transgender people tried the same method by getting married and having children. In my defense, I did neither. I was in essence drafted into the military and decided to get married to my first wife just ahead of the birth of my only child. 

Interestingly, since I now live as a transgender woman, most of my friends and acquaintances don't remember at all that I am a veteran. As such, I receive very few thanks from anyone for my service. Then again, it fits right in with my experience as a Vietnam Vet. For those who don't remember or aren't old enough, the war was very unpopular. Even to the point of taking it out on the people who served. I gave my Army uniform to my Mom while telling her I never wanted to see it again. In the years following, I reclaimed it as memories started to fade.

It always bears mentioning, the number of in the closet transgender veterans who never had a chance to escape their gender closets and ended up paying the ultimate cost for their country is tremendous. Veterans Day is just one of several days of the year we should pause to remember those service men and women who paid the ultimate sacrifice for their country. And what would we have without their service. 

Also, I would like to take the opportunity to thank all the other veterans who I know read this blog.  Thanks for your service.

Gender Equity

Photo from the Jessie Hart
Archives 

In our lives as transgender women or trans men, we can't help building gender equity.

What I mean is when you are forced into a gender lifestyle you really don't accept, you have no choice to adapt and survive. In my case, it meant doing my absolute best to play sports as well as doing other boy things. I put together model cars, was gifted a BB Gun (when I really wanted a doll) as well as other male type activities. None of which I was ever very good at, probably because I did not really buy into participating entirely.

Even still, as much as I didn't want to, I was still building equity being male. Of course I learned how to interact one on one primarily with other guys. Sadly never having much of a chance to see and know any girls at all since I was painfully shy. To survive, I needed to study all the femininity around me from afar and do the best I could.

As life progressed, I needed to fall back on my male equity more and more. It was especially important when I served my three years in the Army during the Vietnam War. Specifically during basic training, I needed to learn how to act like an alpha male and how to deal with all the ones I faced. Again, even though I was successful, I didn't really want to be. Also, I knew the more equity as a man I acquired, the harder it would be to some day give it all up.

And one day it all did come crashing down. I was looking at giving up what I called the "three F's" or family, friends and finances. The reality was I was going through a stressful time in my life when I was going through gender ripping and tearing as I was seriously considering living fulltime as a transgender woman. It meant giving up all my male equity or privileges I had worked so hard to obtain. I had already faced several of my privileges being taken away such as intelligence but I was ill prepared when I had to face other issues such a personal security when I tried to live a public life as a trans woman. Even with all the changes and new pressures, I knew it was still worth selling my equity to live a feminine life.

The pressure to sell became so great, I finally broke down, embraced my new life and decided to transition into a new life I had only ever dreamed of. Little did I know, deep in the background of my life my feminine person had been watching and learning also. She was just biding her time until she had a chance to live. She was building her own equity which made the entire gender transition so much easier. 

I am fortunate in that I was able to cash in to what was left of my male equity and transfer the proceeds to my existing (hidden) feminine self. Between the two, I was able to move on and never look back.   

 

 

We Met in a Mirror

Image from Laura Chouette 
on UnSplash

Along the way I have vivid recollections of how I met most of the memorable cis (or natural born) women in my life. As it turned out, I married several of them. 

Perhaps the most important woman I met was myself when I glimpsed her for the first time in a full length mirror we had at home when I was growing up. All I really remember is the feeling of gender euphoria I felt. Something clicked mentally and I knew somehow, someway I needed to try to cross dress again and even do my best to perfect the image staring back at me. 

Over the years, the problem became I became too addicted to what the mirror was showing me. For as much as I loved playing in the mirror, I was to learn the hard way the whole process was a one way street. As I broke out of my gender closet and into the world, the public did not see me the same as the mirror did. Stares and laughter all too often followed me around during my earliest gender adventures as a novice cross dresser. 

Still I persisted and learned without the help of the women in my life. The only one who tried turned out to be a dismal failure. She was my fiancé from my college days and I talked her into dressing me head to toe as a woman. I say failure because after she was done, I did not see much improvement over my efforts. Plus, over time, she held my gender issues against me and even wanted me to tell the military I was gay to stay out of the Vietnam War. Something I never did and went off to serve my three years, away from her. Which was a real blessing from many angles. 

From there I stayed mostly single until my last year in the Army when I met my first wife who was in the Women's Army Corps, also stationed where I was in Germany. We stayed together after both of us discharged all the way to when we had my only child, a daughter. My first wife knew of and mostly accepted the fact I was a cross dresser before we were married and was never really bothered about it. During this time I was beginning to learn my new life was everything but living in a mirror. I was beginning to take on the world as my authentic self when I met my second wife.

I was working at a radio station in Ohio where we met and I just knew I had to divorce my first wife and be with her. She was so full of life and strong willed, I thought she might do me good and went all out to be with her. Through it all, she as my first wife knew I was a cross dresser and accepted it also. We were married for twenty five years until she passed away from a massive heart attack at the age of fifty. Till the day she died nothing changed about how she viewed my cross dressing but she firmly drew the line at no HRT hormones or for me going towards being a transgender woman at all. 

As I wrote in my post yesterday, I was between the rock and the hard place when if came to my transgender issues. I had taken the steps to firmly move out of the mirror and into the world. The mirror became the place where I just checked myself out every morning to see if I looked masculine or the least bit feminine. Most of the time setting off my gender dysphoria or despair. I finally came to the conclusion nothing was as bad as it seemed or as good as the mirror tried to tell me. I had come to the middle point I needed to meet in the mirror.   

Falling Leaves

Image from Melissa Askew
on UnSplash

We are coming close to the peak of fall weather here in Southwestern Ohio.

The leaves on our trees are beginning their seasonal changes to red and gold and are starting to fall from the trees. On top of all of that we have been blessed (so far) with fairly mild temperatures and sunshine. In fact, we will have several days in the seventies this week. All weather news aside, fall has always been a bittersweet time of the year for me. 

I positively loved the fashion changes the cooler weather brought about. Primarily because I could cover all the pesky arm hair I couldn't cover with summer fashions with any long sleeved tops or blouses. I couldn't shave my arms because I needed to wear short sleeves on occasion when I worked in the kitchen at work. I also was/am fond of the leggings I acquired. My thought pattern is the tight leggings gave my legs a feminine shape. Completing my outfits, I normally wore fuzzy, oversized sweaters. My wardrobe even was approved by my ultra critical second wife. For the most part, this was the sweet part of the bittersweet term.

The bitter portion came when I stopped to consider the overall changes of the season. I vividly remember when I was coming home one night when I was living in Bowling Green, Ohio shortly before I went into the Army. The wind was blowing leaves across the road ahead of me in my headlights. Even in my pre-hormonal days, I nearly cried when I thought of all the upcoming changes which were coming in my life. Not only could I not pursue my gender goals, it was looking as if I couldn't even cross dress in my feminine clothes at all for the three years when I was in the military. All of the sudden, the weight of the world was coming down on me. On top of that, my fiancé at the time decided to break up with me because I was a cross dresser so I was all alone in my time of need.

To add insult to injury, I was able to bring a small wardrobe of clothes, wig and makeup with me to dress up in the apartment when my other roommates were away for break. I came home one night and after I did my prep work (shaving my legs and face) I went to look for my clothes and they were gone. Someone I discovered my hiding place and taken it all. I was equal parts mad and devastated because I just didn't have the courage to bring it up to my roommates when they returned from winter break. Besides, by this time, I only had a few weeks before I needed to report to Ft. Knox, Kentucky for basic training. I managed to salvage a bit of fun in the situation knowing how little humor a drill sergeant would have had if I showed up in a mini skirt. So I didn't need the clothes anyhow.  

These days, since I have transitioned into a transgender woman's life as far as I want to, I can enjoy the fall weather and leaves for what they are. A beautiful reminder of how life and seasons change for the better, even if I know the cold of winter isn't so far away. Without ever trying to look too far ahead, I know after the drab winter months, the green leaves and grass returns for another warm season. I mention often how the seasonal changes are fun for me because I can examine my feminine wardrobe and update it for the season ahead, Something I was always jealous of the cis-women around me during most of my life. I represented the drab winter too much it seemed while the women were able to explore new colors and fashions when the seasons changed. 

I guess you can say, I paid my seasonal fashion dues the difficult way and can now try to enjoy my new feminine transgender life. I view it this way, I lived nearly sixty years as a man and now I have lived over ten years as a transwoman. I had a lot of catching up to do. All the cross dressing in the world couldn't make up for the fact I couldn't take the final step and transition. The only good feelings I could take away from all my crossdressing experiences in the world were, at the least, I leaned many lessons of what I was getting myself into when I left the male world and entered the world of women. It wasn't easy as I needed to learn to play in the girl's sandbox before I earned my way in.

The Power of Halloween

 

Image from Danie Franco
on UnSplash

During my life of realizing how deeply my gender issues went, the more important Halloween parties became to me. 

I could say going to Halloween parties dressed as a woman began innocently enough. All I really wanted to do was go out and feel the thrill of wearing a short dress with freshly shaven legs and new silky panty hose. Little did I know, I would experience so much more as the years went by.

My first "costumes" were simply trying to dress as trashy as I could, trying my best to "thrill" my friends into thinking I could be an attractive woman. It turned out to be a process I would go through for Halloweens to come. Dressing to thrill just wasn't enough, dressing to be mistaken for a woman became my goal. 

Even still, my first Halloween party when I seriously dressed as a woman was a memorable one from several different reasons. Ironically, the party happened when I was in the Army stationed in Germany. I was fortunate when I was assigned to work at the AFN (American Forces Radio and TV Europe). Naturally, compared to others with more strictly military duties. I also managed to live in a separate barracks with others assigned to a medical commissary. We had it easy. 

When Halloween rolled around, the people in the medical group decided to have a big party and it was my big chance to put two years of being cross dressing frustrated behind me. Finally I had the opportunity to cross dress again if only I could find the clothes and makeup I needed to look the part, Since it has been so many years ago, 1975, I don't really remember how I came up with all the necessities I  needed to dress as a prostitute but I did. Short mini dress, high heels and long blond wig completed my outfit and to the party I went. I ended up having a great time, which included too much German beer and Jägermeister. Through it all, I remember all the prying hands I needed to fend off from places they should not have been.

The big question I had was, did I do too good of an effort to be attractive? I always considered shaved legs was the deciding point between someone who casually dressed as a woman for Halloween and someone else who was way too serious. Plus, I still had to keep in mind, I still had a year to go in the Army and I did not want to lose my chance for a honorable discharge if someone looked at my "costume" and decided it was too gay. 

It turned out not to matter anyhow. A couple weeks later when my group of three close friends and I got together for dinner (and beer) I ended up being indirectly asked how serious I was about looking like a woman. I blurted out very serious and that I was a transvestite. The first time I had admitted it to anyone. As free as I felt at the moment, putting myself out there could have been potentially very harmful to me as I tried to finish my military service. Fortunately nothing ever came of my letting others in to my "secret" and I served out my time with an honorable discharge. 

From then on, I couldn't wait for my next chance to leave the mirror behind and express my feminine self in the world. Sadly, the only time I could do it was Halloween which I will have plenty of interesting posts about coming up.   

From Dreams to Reality

 

Image from the Jessie Hart
Collection

Very early in life, when I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I never told the truth. I would fall back on the politically gender correct answer and say the usual such as a lawyer, doctor etc. The reason I say politically correct is because how I really wanted to answer was with the truth. All along I wanted just to be a woman when I grew up.

I do think, at the time, I did know what a difficult proposition being feminine was all about. Primarily against my will, all along I was becoming more entrenched in a male lifestyle I never wanted. When I was being the square peg being pounded or forced into societies' square hole, I hated it. Even then I put up a brave front and liked the popular male things such as sports and cars, in reality I wanted to be the kid with the new doll baby at Christmas rather than the BB Gun I was gifted. But, life went on along with a pending meeting with the military along with the Vietnam War. I outran the war as long as I could. Finally it caught up with me and I enlisted for three years in the Army, rather than being drafted and insuring me a sure date with Vietnam. 

I dreamed of pursuing a goal of pursuing my early career in the radio broadcasting business while I served my military service for my country. Sure it was all a long shot but the long shot suddenly became a reality with the help of a local congressman whose radio station I worked for. With his backing, I was able to work a year in Thailand for the AFTN Radio and Television Network and then against all odds, managed to end up in Germany working a year and a half for AFN or the American Forces Network Europe. In doing so I was able to experience new cultures on different continents while I tried to keep my eye on the goal I couldn't seem to lose, the desire to be a woman.   

As we approach Halloween season, it is important to note how important Halloween was to me. Primarily because the parties I attended in "costume" as a woman allowed me to experiment on how far I was advancing  my feminine presentation and more importantly could I exist in the public's eye as my dream  woman. I have plenty of posts I will be sharing as we come closer to the actual day of Halloween. 

Spoiler alert, of course I finally did overcome all my doubts of ever being able to live out my dream but found I still had a long distance to go on my gender journey. Every time I think I was making progress, I found I still had so much farther to go.  As destiny directed me, I painted myself into a gender corner I couldn't delude myself to continue. I was ready to take the final step and live my dream of being a full time transgender woman. No more of just thinking I was just a weekend cross dresser, I needed more.

When I did, the final step was till more scary and ambitious than I ever imagined. I still remember the day I gave what was left of my male clothes to the thrift store and resolved to never look back on my old male life. No more just hiding behind my cross dressing until I could escape back to my comfortable world of male privileges. Through it all, my HRT or hormone replacement therapy helped to alter my male body enough to help my difficult attempt to present convincingly as a woman. 

From dreams to reality, the long twisting gender experience was worth it. My lifelong dream was a true one and I learned I was not making anything up. I was living how I wanted. 

Day Dreamer

 

Recent PicNic. Liz on Right.

Throughout all the years of my life, I wish I could reclaim just a small portion of the time I lost day dreaming of my gender issues.

Of course I am referring to are the times when I zoned out of my reality into a world where I left my unwanted male world behind and live as a female. I vividly remember having a complete crush on the girls who sat around me during study halls in junior high as well as high school. I never had a sexual crush, I really wanted to be them. During the years which followed, my feelings towards women never really changed until I married and began to have a differing view of women after observing them close up. I found in many ways, women and men face similar challenges. Just on different stages. 

Through it all, I wanted to still be feminine and spent plenty of time thinking and worrying about the process. During the Vietnam War era, I was jealous of women since they couldn't be drafted into the military which was probably my peak of wanting to be a female. For awhile, during the rigors of going through Army Basic Training, I was able to briefly escape the even stronger stresses of living with gender problems. I say briefly,  because it wasn't very long until my old gender issues returned. In fact, one of my best day dreams was to reappear in front of my fiancé who ditched me just before I was to leave to join the military. In the worst way, I wanted to come back in a new car looking better than she did. Revenge would be sweet but it never came. You might say, as I grew into my authentic self, I moved past her altogether. 

It ended up requiring nearly a total male to female gender transition for me to mostly completely lose being a day dreamer. The more issues and even problems I encountered as a transgender woman taught me I didn't have to day dream about the transition process any longer. As I said, it is important to note not all the day dreams I felt turned out to be good. I ended up living through too many negative life experiences which for the most part revolved around my new appearance and where I tried to do in my new life. Perhaps one of the main lessons I learned was women were always on stage. Men admired them from one angle while other women did also for totally different reasons. It was quite the learning process and robbed me of any extra time I had to day dream.

Sadly, we only have one life to live and I can't go back and reclaim any of the time and energy I lost when I was a novice transgender woman. On the other hand, the experiences I gained from my life could not be traded for anything I could have ever expected. Now my day dream problem has been reversed so I don't live too much in the past.  

Normalcy is for the Weak

 

Image from Joshua Rawson
Harris on UnSplash

Growing up, my expectations from "Greatest Generation" era parents were to fit into the square peg to square hole example. 

To me, it meant being a "normal" boy. Loving sports and playing in the woods next door. The only problem of course was I didn't want anything to do with much of anything associated with being a male. For years and years, I just thought I was not normal as I was sure there couldn't be anyone else who felt the same way I did. 

Ironically, for the shortest period of time, I did encounter a friend in my tweener years who very much leaned towards to being a serious cross dresser or transvestite as it was known back then. Before our experimentations into his Mom's wardrobe and makeup progressed too far, he moved far away. I was left once again thinking I was the only one into being feminine. 

As I went through life, I felt I was never "normal" primarily because of my gender dysphoria which I knew I had long before the term transgender was ever used. The farther I progressed however, I learned I was attracted to others who were not "normal" by society's standards. I think deep down I was attracted to them because I thought they would be the friends who would accept my authentic transgender self. Sadly, once I was starting to embrace my non-normal self, I was forced into the ultimate square peg into a square hole experience, known as Army basic training. BCT was the ultimate team building experience. 

Ironically, the exact opposite happened to me. Surviving basic gave me the tools I needed to further embrace who I was. I knew if I put my mind to something, I could be a success, even if it was in a so-called normal profession. Much to my parent's chagrin I ended up for years as a radio disc jockey. A profession long on enjoyment but extremely short on money. As I struggled financially, I added a daughter who directly caused me to seek a more settled environment. From there I found myself in a thirty year (plus) career in the commercial restaurant business. Little did I know, the food business back in those days was in an incredible expansion phase. Allowing me to jump jobs as I tried to out run my gender issues. From the outside looking in, I am sure I appeared a little more than a little crazy. During that period, I was fond of telling anyone who appeared interested I was not normal.

It turned out, through it all, I was normal. Once I did transition into the life of my authentic transgender self, I calmed down and began to realize all of the sudden once I was living as my true self, I was normal. 

The path I took to get there was not at all easy and not for the weak of heart. I just needed to be the round peg being pushed into the round hole.