A Transgender Marathon

Archive Image

 I'm sure you have heard the saying it's a marathon, not a sprint. This is especially true for transgender women and trans men.

Yesterday, I read a social media post from a first time transgender woman going out in public for the first time. In the post, she was bemoaning the fact after applying her makeup and seeing pictures, she did not look as good as she thought she did. My heart went out to her and I mentioned I went down the same path. Learning the art of makeup is just the first part of a transgender marathon into understanding yourself. 

Others who read the post chimed in with similar thoughts and even expanded it into impostor syndrome as a future possible reaction the person might have to face. 

Looking back, I could remember vividly how badly I felt when I first started my visits out of the house and into the public's eye. Back then, pictures were difficult to come by and were mainly only accessible by the old "photo kiosks" and drug stores. Only one time get I get brave enough to take a roll of film to one of the kiosks to see how I looked on film. I was shocked, and not in a good way, I obviously looked like a cross dresser and a bad one at that. The worst part was, the person who developed and gave me my pictures knew me and even worse yet, his Dad worked with my Dad. My marathon was almost over before it started. If I liked it or not. 

As it turned out, I moved back into the mirror and did my best to remove the negative self image I still had from the ill advised pictures. It actually took me years to try to attempt more pictures as my marathon moved on. As with anything else, the more you work on something, the better you become. Also technology was on my side with better cameras, which offered more than the very expensive Polaroids giving instant pictorial feedback. I was fascinated with my first cell phone which took pictures and better yet I had my first computer that I used to upload cross dressed pictures of myself. By doing so, I attracted attention, flattering to begin with in chatrooms until my wife caught on. She learned the computer skills faster than I did, so I needed to try to catch up as fast as possible. 

My marathon marched on, I gained more and more confidence until I reached increasing problems with my gender dysphoria. It seemed, no matter how much effort I put into my feminine appearance and deportment, the more I felt like a guy in a dress. To survive, I finally had to come to a basic conclusion. I was not as good looking as a woman I thought I was, or as bad. There was always the middle point I needed to shoot for. Finally, I knew who I was and I had the confidence to move on from new problems such as impostor syndrome. 

Again, I needed to come to a middle point where I could survive as a person. While I could never reclaim a girl's childhood experiences, or the problems associated with having periods or pregnancies, I had to go through my own set of experiences which presented their own problems. For example, I needed to try to escape my own gender demons which everyone in life seems to have, male or female, trans or not. I finally had to end the part of my marathon I agonized over for so long and claim my own brand of womanhood. Somehow I always found a way to survive and found a path. I was able to chase it and find success...in my own way. Which turned out was all I could do.

Going all the way back to the person who was just starting their public journey as a transgender person, try to make your marathon as easy as you can, Roll with the punches and move along as quickly as you can but always remembering the entire process is a marathon, not a sprint and sometimes, you are your own worst enemy. 

International Womens Day

 

Image from Joeyy Lee on UnSplash

As International Women's Day rolls around again, it is always worth mentioning how transgender women fit in the the group of women at large.

Of course, there is a group of "TERF's" or transphobic cis-gender women, who feel we trans women should be outright excluded from any sisterhood. Shame on them for their narrow minded ideas. It has always seemed to me, the more the merrier in how the feminine population is perceived and should be important to all women. Especially now with all the attacks on women's reproductive rights by Republican politicians across the country. Bottom line is diversity in how women hood is achieved should be celebrated not restricted. 

Which brings me to one of my favorite points concerning womanhood and how it is earned not just given at birth. Even though many women are born female, it doesn't mean they necessarily ever go through the process of becoming women and the same can be certainly said for men. As a transgender woman, I feel I have had to follow a gender path which has led me to my own particular brand of womanhood. So I should be included as much as the next person in "Women's Day." One day in the past I was when I was chosen to participate in a photo shoot celebrating the diversity in all women, not just the classical beautiful ones. Even though the album wasn't chosen to advance to a competition  in Chicago, I was thrilled to be a part. But that wasn't all.  

In my journey, I have been fortunate to have experienced many more positive feminine role models than negative ones who aided me in my journey. Many were lesbians who brought their own brand of being women with them since primarily showing me I didn't need a man to be validated in the world. I could stand alone and make it. On the other hand, I had other women around me who built their lives around children and family and I learned from them also how to further cherish what I had with my marriage to Liz and relationship with my daughter and her grandkids. Especially when my oldest grandchild decided to carve out a non-binary gender path of their own. All of a sudden, I was a role model on how to be brave enough to pursue a life outside the normal gender boundaries. Primarily since I never pursued any gender realignment surgeries, I still deep down knew who I was and needed to make changes  to live my truth.

Also, I don't understand why most all women don't accept trans women on "Women's Day" or any other day to speak of. After all. we have spent time on the other side of the gender fence and decided we did not or could not live there. I have discovered though many more women than men have embraced my change. Men especially are very fragile in their sexuality and have a tendency to ignore me while women are just the opposite.   

If you are still working your way out of your closet into the world and are wondering how you fit into "Women's Day", rest assured you are in the learning process and the day is for you too. When you look at all the young women being educated and starting their own businesses, the future is certainly female and we are certainly in the right group. 

Meeting Yourself the First Time

 

Cell Phone Picture from the 
Jessie Hart Collection

Perhaps you remember when you glanced in the mirror and saw your true, authentic self looking back. I know I do. It was such a long time ago, I wondered if I thought this is great but what do I do next. What I ended up doing was going on a lifelong search to discover the feeling of meeting myself again. For the most part the process led me to an often ill fated worship of mirrors. The only other outlet available to me was the invention of disposable camera's. I took the pictures to a drive thru kiosk to be processed. Which led me to an embarrassing moment when I turned in a roll of film which turned out to be less than flattering and then having it developed by someone I knew. From the look on his face when I picked my pictures up, I knew he had a fairly good idea I was a cross dresser. 

The only other alternative available to me was the Polaroid camera when it was invented and coming into it's own commercially. As I remember, the pictures were very expensive to make up for a do it yourself photo experience. Even though I managed to buy a camera finding someone to take a picture became the real problem. I had considered the fact I thought I looked fairly good as a cross dresser in the mirror but how did it all relate to how I appeared in a picture. Which is as far as I could sneak out of my gender closet at the time. Plus, I had just started to receive my cherished editions of "Transvestia" magazine, so I was eager to compare myself to all the featured transvestites I saw there.  Somehow, someway I convinced my wife to take a few pictures of the real me so I could look. 

As I try to remember all those years ago, I still can't say I was seeing any more than the occasional sight of my true self. I was probably teased enough to think I was but all in all I was still missing the mark. I was so desperate to open the door of my gender closet anything I tried looked good by comparison to my old, boring unwanted male self. 

These days, cell phones and their advanced cameras are everywhere and it is difficult to remember when they weren't. I remember vividly of trying to talk my wife into buying me a new cell phone with a camera so I could sneak around and take pictures of myself. Sadly she had passed away before I attempted to become proficient at taking pictures of myself on a cell phone. Now, with all the photo apps available to nearly everyone, you have to take most pictures you see with a grain of salt. Many are out and out fakes. Regardless, it is still a luxury to me to be able to have such a convenient portable device with me which can help me document my true self.

Amazingly, meeting myself for the fist time still happens over and over again when I get up and look at myself in the mirror. Some days I am pleasantly surprised when I see a feminine person looking back at me. On other days, the opposite happens and I am depressed when I see my old masculine self still peeking back at me. Anymore I am used to the process and just move on before my gender dysphoria can return in full force and depress me. One thing is for sure, the ability to meet yourself for the first time is never boring.    

Mirror Mirror

I have been fortunate in that I have lived a fairly long life of seventy three years. Over the years I have had many acquaintances, friends, family and even spouses come and go. Not long ago I realized I missed an inanimate object which I deal with daily, which on occasion ranks above all the people I wrote about above in importance.

Mirror Photo courtesy 
Jessie Hart

I am referring to my mirror. Of course I have encountered and lived through many mirrors during my years. Very early in my life, a full length mirror in our long hallway became my best friend.  In fact, during the precious moments I found myself alone in, the mirror became my only friend. I loved it when I could get cross dressed as a girl and was able to walk slowly up and down the hallway thinking all along what a pretty girl I made. The mirror was of no help and added it it's positive affirmations regardless of how bad I really looked. In other words, the mirror was lying to me.

Of course my infatuation with the mirror continued. As I began to explore the world as my feminine self, many times I would push the envelope and try to dress too sexy which became too trashy. One example was when I had a platinum blond wig which was actually too short to cover dark hair on my back. Even though I knew it was happening, the mirror told me I looked so sexy I would certainly present well. Needless to say, I didn't and received way too much negative attention in a bar I went to. I was lucky to make it home without incident and the blond wig was forgotten forever.   

Unfortunately I am a slow learner and my mirror continued to lie to me. I persisted in trying to dress as a teenaged girl in a man's body. I wore my skirts too short as well as my shorts trying to show off my legs which was fine except by doing just that I ignored the fact I had shoulders and a torso which were decidedly un-feminine. The mirror never told me to change my thinking and dress for the overall look and began to blend in responsibly with the rest of the feminine population. It was around this time when I began to separate my self from my mirror and establish new standards. Plus I was increasingly faced with having to meet the public one on one. So essentially all of them became my new mirrors. 

For the longest time, my mirror obsession declined to a point where I had to dread seeing myself in the mirror the first thing in the morning. Some days I looked and saw a vaguely feminine person looking back at me but other days the image screamed same old male and my gender dysphoria would kick in again. I would be in despair thinking even with hormone replacement therapy, I was wasting my time. Then the gender pendulum would swing back again as I rationalized I probably landed somewhere in the middle of my appearance expectations. 

Regardless I wondered why I was so vain anyway. I suppose the vanity goes all the way back to my earliest days of wanting to be and fit in with all the girls. Never stopping to think of any of the negatives involved. Most certainly the girls I so intensely admired had their own issues to deal with.

So even though my mirror has been my life long companion, in reality it has never been my lifelong friend. Often telling me just what I wanted to hear. No matter where they happened to be from my hallway at home to mirrors in mall clothing stores all the way to mirrors behind the bars I frequented, it seems I always needed a mirror as a crutch. To reassure me I was always the feminine person I always wanted to be. Put what label you want on it, cross dresser or novice transgender person I needed the help to exist. These days, except for the occasional dysphoric episode. life with my mirror has settled in a daily small makeup and skin care routine.        

In the Passing Lane

 Today I went through more old posts from last year and came up with this one from early 2021. It seems this topic never gets old in the  transgender and or cross dressing communities. After all, the importance of  syncing up our internal and external selves can never be understated.  At the least, it gives us the confidence to leave our dark gender closets and go forth in the world as our authentic selves.  This post includes a comment from Connie:

" I do agree that, for me, "blending in" is not really my desired goal. I had always been pretty quiet and rather shy as a man, while my feminine side wants to be much more social and involved. I have often joked that all I really want is to be the most beautiful girl in the room - which is only a joke if I really think that I ever am. Still, I'd much rather shine than blend. I can't make my feminine appearance be as good as Phaylen's (highly filtered and possibly photo shopped) pic portrays, but I have learned that there is so much more to "passing" than the way I look. It's much more about the self-confidence and living in truth. Although it took much longer than it should have, I finally realized that I belong and have every right to be anywhere I choose to be, as does anyone else. I want to pass as a person (the person I really am) more than an illusion I may have created."

(The "Phaylen" Connie is responding to is an LGBTQ activist and actress and does have passing privileges' probably due in part to advanced makeup and photography techniques many of us don't have access to. See below:)

More Connie: "I suppose that I have some "passing privilege" - at least, I have been told this many times. My dysphoria keeps me from recognizing this allegation, however. Beyond the primary, my secondary (male) sex characteristics add up to be a real challenge for me. Sure, there are cis women who are taller, or with broader shoulders, or with large hands, or with big heads and necks, etc. - but very few of them possess all of them together. Nevertheless, these are things that I do possess, and that I can never change. I have managed to change my attitude, though, and that has gone more toward achieving any passing privilege I have than has anything else."

Connie. Making Seattle beautiful. 

Perhaps my emphasis on blending in has to do with my intense interaction with other women over the years. Even though I had to act as if I were a man, I interacted as if I were a woman. My gender dysphoria has told me over the years I couldn't be the best looking woman in the room and just being perceived as a woman in the room was good enough. 

Anything else will have to wait until my next life. In the meantime, I just have tried my best to exist in the passing lane.

Photo Shoot

 This is one of those experiences which came from being in the right place at the right time, which never was one of my strong points during my gender transition. Plus, it happened approximately seven years ago so I have a difficult time thinking it ever happened at all. 

It all started innocently enough when Liz and I went to what can only be described as a working artist/crafters mall. It was/is located in a vintage brick shoe factory in downtown Cincinnati. My partner Liz is a quality crafter and was keenly interested in what the many shops had to offer.

As we slowly made our way through the venue, we came across a photographer and her friend who just happened to be putting together an album of the different types of women they could find. Then their effort would be judged in Chicago by another group. Before I knew it, they were strongly suggesting I should become a part of their photo shoot. 

Of course I was flattered they wanted me to be a part of their compilation. And thought it was a great idea to include a transgender woman as one of the different women who can be found in the world. But then the doubts and misgivings began to filter in. What would I wear to the photo shoot? How much makeup should I wear were just two questions I had. My fears were not justified though when they gave me instructions on what to wear, including makeup.

In a short period of time, I found myself being photographed by a real live professional. While I loved the attention, I was scared to death! How would the pictures portray me and how would my gender dysphoria react. Before I knew it, my time as a photography model was over and I headed home.

It took a couple weeks before I saw the results and I was indeed disappointed. Somehow I thought I would look better but what you see is what you get. I used to have the exact pictures they shared with me but try as I might I can't find one. So, the one I shared in this post is close to the same time period of my life.

None ot it mattered as the entry they put together and sent on to the Chicago competition didn't win anyhow. 

My input wasn't over though as I as well the other models were invited to a gallery presentation here in Cincinnati. When I went, I promptly made my presence known by spilling a glass of wine all over the catering table.

Even though we didn't win any prizes, I will always remember my all too brief role as a photo shoot model in 2015.

Another Transgender First

 

Vogue’s September issue is making history.

The US magazine chose eight models for the cover of the most anticipated issue of the year — including Ariel Nicholson, the glossy’s first openly transgender cover star.

The 20-year-old model posed alongside Anok Yai, Bella Hadid, Precious Lee, Kaia Gerber, Yumi Nu, Lourdes “Lola” Leon and Sherry Shi.

Shot in Vogue’s World Trade Center office, the diverse array of models were selected to represent “Generation America” on the historic cover, ahead of September’s America-themed Met Gala.

Ariel Nicholson cheers along with the other catwalkers in the cover shot, wearing a bright green Christopher John Rogers sweater and matching polka-dot skirt by the same designer.

Inspiration is Fleeting

Or is it? Every morning when I wake up, I do a quick self examination of my body to see what hurts the most, or at all. Very quickly I then move on to thinking about the blog and what I have written about in the past. Every now and then, I come up with a former experience from years ago in my past.

Plus every once in a while, I am able to find a picture to aid in the story. An example is this picture from a decade ago in 2010.  Somehow, I was able to come up with my own version of primitive photo shopping on my cell phone. I did it by taking my picture in a mirror so I could see myself as I did it. My goal was to take a picture to add to my profile on the multiple dating sites I was exploring. 

The hair in the photo was a wig of course. Ironically my hair currently is as long and nearly as wavy if I add a liberal amount of mousse after I wash it. 

It's also taken me nearly a decade to grow my own breasts which were comparable to the forms I wore back then. Of course I am fortunate to have been able to undergo hormone replacement therapy at my age.

So, inspiration for a blog post is fleeting when I am well over 6,000 posts written for Cyrsti's Condo.

One good thing about the picture is, it is the one my partner Liz saw and decided to respond to me because I had "sad eyes". At that point in time I did. 

It was taken before I found a circle of accepting friends who helped me transition and gain a whole new level of inspiration.
 

Pictures

Very rarely do we learn the story behind any of the pictures we see on line. In fact, I stopped even looking at one site I used to be active on because I was beginning to doubt more than a few of the "glamorous" transgender women or cross dressers weren't actually cis women in reality. I tried to tell myself too, pictures can be photo shopped and are only moments in time. So much more goes into presenting as a woman than is represented in a picture. 

But, the neat thing is about pictures is, they often are all we have to pass along idea's and remember where we were at a time and place, Take this picture of me for example. First of all it was taken a couple of years ago when I had longer and a darker/auburn hair. Secondly, it was taken in one of those mirrors with special soft surround light, All of which contributed to making me look different than I normally did. Finally, it was taken during one of those rare moments in time i had my finger nails professionally done. All in all, the picture is still me...with an asterisk. I have to add though, nothing of what I did would be different than many cis women would do to enhance their appearance in a picture. 

In a recent Cyrsti's Condo post, I used one of a couple of Connie's pictures I happen to have on file to accent one of her comments. Here, is her return comment:

"So, the pic you chose was taken about eleven years ago. It was that very day that I came out, in person, to a woman friend. It was the first time anyone from my past life had met me as Connie (other than my wife). My friend had no idea of what she was about to see, when she stopped by my house on her way home from work. It went well, but I decided, afterward, that I would never surprise another like that again. I realized that it wasn't really fair to the other person, as it can put them on the spot. Then, it took another three years to come out to most everyone else - except most of my in-laws (about 100 of them, if you count cousins and such). The word had spread, though, so it was just a matter of making a gender reveal, of sorts, at a (very) large family gathering, in 2014. I don't remember exactly when we first met on that (pastel color) site, but, with all the back-and-forth yapping we did, I can't believe we waited so long to finally take action. I look at that pic of myself, and I see that I was beyond ready to transition at that time. I may not be as young, and less wrinkly and saggy as I was, but I'm still every bit the smartass. Sarcasm is not limited by gender! ;-) BTW, in my story, I was both of the people in the Thunderbird. I have had dreams, since my pre-teens, of being behind the wheel of a turquoise '57 T-Bird. I'm in a cute halter top that is tied at the midriff to show my skinny waist, my natural long blonde hair covered by a silk scarf, with big sunglasses and red lipstick on. Oh, and I can't forget the perfectly manicured and painted fingernails, as my lovely hands are resting on top of the steering wheel. Too late now; I can't get there from here, either."

Nice! Thanks for the memory!  Also as many of you who read the post comments know, Marcia also remembers our (witty???) give and take on the website I mentioned (not by name) because I believe it still exists. It's a small world in the trans community if we like it or not.

Mixed Emotions

Thanks to the wonderful people at Facebook, recently they pulled up this ancient picture of me in the summer of 2014.

I like the picture on a few levels and on the other hand don't like.

In many ways I consider this a transition photo. I was moving away from being a blond and closer to wearing my own hair.

What you may not see in the picture is the torment I suffered from the wig's hairline. It's one of the few wigs I ever owned I even took a pair of scissors to. It's a wig though which brings back fond memories.

I wore it to my first "girl's night out" when I was invited by a group of young women I had met at one of the venues I frequented many times. Even though I was scared to go, I also was excited to tag along also. I put together one of my black outfits with a tank top and a long black skirt with a slit up the side. It turned out not to matter much as the younger more attractive women received most of the attention anyhow.

I had more luck when I wore the same outfit (and wig) to a big gay venue one night to meet a couple of friends. One was a trans man and the other a lesbian. I ended up having a fun evening and asking them to accompany me to my car when I was leaving. I had learned the hard way not to walk around the venue by myself.

Now, back to the picture. What I do like is my expression. I feel as if it gave me an impression of strength. The breasts of course were not natural. They were mine only in a sense they were given to me as a gift years earlier from a cross dresser who was purging his storage shed. Plus the way I was sitting only gives a slight indication of how over weight I was at the time.

I am sure you have to be transgender to put so much effort into breaking down an old picture.

Mirror Mirror...

Over my life, I have suffered from a love/hate relationship with my mirror.

It started early on as I benefited from a long hallway we had in the house which featured a full length mirror at one end. I could get cross dressed up and fantasize I was a beautiful girl. Unfortunately it was much later in life when I learned how wrong the mirror could be. The best example would be when the mirror thought one of my best described as a drag queen outfit would look good at the mall. I even put together a tennis outfit once. I can only imagine now how ridiculous I looked. In fact, many times the public told me with their reaction.

As the cell phone camera began to emerge though, the mirror emerged in a new light. Even though I owned an aging regular camera which has since went totally obsolete, the cell phone gave me a new avenue to view myself and show myself to the world. After extensive experimentation, I found I could take a better picture of myself if I took it from the mirror. Or so I thought. Seemingly, I could put any picture on a dating site and get a positive reaction.

Actually though, one of my pictures attracted my partner Liz on a dating site called Zoosk. Rest assured the process was long and grueling, as I suffered many cases of being stood up by men looking for a date. On the other hand, Liz was attracted to my photo because of my sad eyes. She felt a connection.

Every once in a while, I still sneak in a mirror picture. Here is one of my favorites from two winters ago. It was taken after a fun night on the town with Liz, in our hotel room. It had one of those fancy lighted mirrors in the room and I couldn't resist as Liz was already asleep.

After I see it, I want to color my hair again and shift the part back to the center. I have to keep telling myself to stay the course with my current silver gray hair which according to my "experts" (Liz and my stylist) is kinder to my complexion, age etc.

Plus, this mirror pic does not represent my real everyday life anymore. As with any picture, it only represents a small slice of time.