My Biggest "AHA" Moments

 

Image from Valentia Conde
on UnSplash.

During the long gender path which I have been fortunate to live, I have had many “aha” moments to look back on.

The problem I had was realizing that the times in my life were something I would forever remember, forget immediately, or just refuse to understand what they meant after my own ignorance set in. For my first example, I have to go way back to the first times I was exploring my mom’s clothes and makeup. I knew something was up, but I did not know exactly what and how deep it would run with me. All I knew was my desire to be feminine in any way was deeply forbidden in my family and most of society which called it being mentally ill at the time. Through it all, even though I did not fully understand what was going on with me, I did think I was mentally ill for thinking it.

That was the good news. The bad news was I was decades away from understanding the “aha” moment that I was living the wrong life as a man all along. Even if I was warned by a therapist that I respected very much that she could essentially do nothing about me wanting to be a woman and I was on my own to save a marriage that I really wanted to save. If I would have listened to her and started my male to female femininization earlier, I would have saved myself so much inner turmoil that it would have been amazing. But I did not and stubbornly hold on to the idea I could live as a man while at the same time cross-dress when ever I wanted as a woman.

Another problem was, I had moments when my feminine world was opening to me and I thought, “wow is that what being a woman was all about.” Like the day at the grocery store when I positively melted a young bagger who was stuttering as he shyly asked if he could take my groceries to the car. Right then I knew why I had such a difficult time talking to pretty girls in school when all my perceived smooth vocal abilities just disappeared. It was a giant “aha” moment when I had the chance to reverse course and cross that gender border so long ago.  

As I held on for dear life that I was just following my hobby as a cross-dresser, slowly but surely the idea of going through another male to female transition gained on me. I went back to the times when I was thinking that just putting on makeup and a dress was good enough. I always wanted to do more like the pretty girls around me did at school. I wanted to be the one being chased for a date in my new pretty clothes any time that I could. Which turned out to be never back then. Years flew by before they ever did as I began to test the world of ciswoman as a novice cross-dresser. Then, one night out of nowhere, the thought came to me that I was done just looking like a woman again, I wanted to inter-mix with them and see if I could be accepted. If I was, from that point forward I would change my self-gender perception from just being some sort of a harmless hobby to thinking about myself as a thriving transgender woman. A super scary, but exciting thought because once I went there and was successful, I could never go back to ever just thinking that I was just a man again. A real, enduring “aha” moment in my life.

The problem I had was once that I was becoming successful as a new transfeminine person, how could I stay there. Initially, I made up a new feminine persona to go with my new look. I wore the same wig and used my same new name every time I went out and before I knew it, I was being treated as a regular in all the venues I was testing out in the straight world I knew before as a man. Another big “aha” came when I was able to break the influence of all the gay venues I was going to which I really disliked and was accepted as me in a new world. Then I learned I could have fun doing it as I enjoyed my new feminine self so much that increasingly I did not want to go back at all to my old male world.

As I did, I began the all-important job of getting rid of all the male baggage I did not want or need anymore. At all costs, I hoped I could maintain a relationship with my daughter which I did, and if my brother did not accept me, so what. Which he didn’t and we went our separate ways as those two were the only two blood family that I had left. With all of that turmoil behind me, I was free to concentrate on my transgender future which did not include any surgeries at my age of sixty, but hopefully a chance to test out my body on HRT or gender affirming hormones. I was approved first by a doctor and then by the Veteran’s Administration to begin the hormonal treatment and positively loved it. It was as if my body was saying the hormones were an “aha” moment and were the missing ingredient to leading a fuller transfeminine life.

I am sure there were other “aha” moments which turned out to be bright light posts on my often dark and lonely gender path. Such as when my current wife Liz came into my life to love me and make me whole again by saying that she had never seen any male in me. I never realized that I had built up that much good karma to help my life along.

Thanks for reading my lifetime of gender experiences as a transgender woman. Hopefully, you can gain some insight to help you along.

 

Living the Dream before it Consumed Me

 

JJ Hart

As I crossed the six-decades portion of my life and spent at least five decades of it trying to stay under control by cross-dressing, I was trapped and had nowhere else to go.

It happened because I had embarked on such a complete path of looking like and moving like a ciswoman and my gender bucket list was shrinking due to too much use. All the trips to malls, antique stores, and thrift stores just became boring when I was passing through them with no problems. Even though I was bored, the idea of being successful as a transfeminine person still consumed me. And, to make matters worse, I was finding less challenges to undertake as I increasingly painted myself into a gender corner I had always dreamed about but never thought I could reach.

I always made excuses such as I was never going to be good looking enough to present well in the new world I was seeking when truthfully my overall confidence as a trans woman had more to do with my approval than my appearance ever did once I had went beyond the basic point I needed to be to blend in with the ciswomen around me. Life changed when I realized there were plenty of women in the world who dealt with being bigger in stature and even had broad shoulders such as I had. My realizations helped to give me the boost I needed to continue to let my so called “hobby” consume me.

The reason was that I was ignoring the fact that cross-dressing was much more than a hobby, it was becoming a lifestyle. The biggest problem was that nothing I did as a novice trans woman was ever good enough. Even my second wife did not like the person I was becoming when I took the time and effort to show off to her as I thought were my best feminine efforts. Even though I desperately was seeking her approval, it was becoming obvious to me that my inner feminine self and my wife were lining up to fight it out. I was left behind to pick up the pieces as I was realizing how consumed I was when I had one of my rare, sanctioned (by my wife) outings at Halloween in NYC when my wife decided she did not want to go with me. The night turned out to be a dream evening as I ended up going out with four other women dressed to thrill as I was and they all happened to be as tall as I was in our heels. The night even ended on a high note when I was asked to dance by a guy in the venue we went to. I turned him down because he had no idea that I had one basic difference from the other woman I came with.

Anytime I experienced such a wonderful evening such as that Halloween party, I wondered if the gender euphoria I felt was worth it when I came crashing down. I was consumed with the moment and wanted to re-live it time and time again, but I was tucked away in my male work world and could not get out. Looking back, I don’t see now how I survived the balancing act I was putting myself through. I needed to physically show up as the man I never wanted to be. While at the same time spend all my mental energy remembering the transgender woman, I was. If I could have cried during that time in my life, I am sure I would have cried myself to sleep many nights worrying about my gender dysphoria and how it always threatened to wreck my life. Even to the point of almost destroying my marriage to the woman I loved deeply when my frustrations would boil over into yet another fight about me. Some of the fights were so severe that my second wife told me I was not man enough to be a woman, or why didn’t I just go away and fix the problem and make both of us happier.

Perhaps, by this time, you are wondering too why I did not take her advice and do it. The main reason was, at that time, I was not ready to give up totally on the life we had together when I was a man and even though I was increasingly being consumed by the idea I could be the trans woman I always dreamed of, I was not ready to pull the cord and jump out of the plane just yet. Because I was still afraid of the new gender heights I was reaching and selfish enough to think my wife may still come around to accept me. For those of you who don’t know, she never did and died tragically of a massive heart attack at the age of fifty.

The whole experience sent me into a major negative tailspin which I had a difficult time emerging from. I think the only reason that I did was because I had let my feminine self-consume me, and she could not wait for the opportunity to take over and live. My life had come full circle, and all the time and effort I put into my male to female femininization came back to help me. I had already put the work into how I wanted to look with my make-up and fashion basics and was already out into the world actually discovering how it would be to carve out a new transfeminine life for my very own. I had gotten what I needed as I moved ahead towards beginning HRT or gender affirming hormones. Which were something I always wanted to try as part of my overall commitment to being as close as possible to being who I always was destined to be.

When life consumed me, I was always somehow able to accept it and even thrive with it. Even though it took me decades to do it with all the ups and downs of what I had to go through. At the least, it made life interesting.

 

So Many Ways to Come Out

 

Image from Nicola Dowie
on UnSplash.

Recently, I had a response from a young transgender man on how he should attempt to come out to the world.

First of all, thanks for the comment and yes there are many ways to leave your closet and enter the world of the gender you are trying to live among. I know too that I have many trans men who stop by and read my comments which flatters me because as we flip the gender script, often the worlds we must conquer are not that different. Gaining the female or male privileges when you feminize or masculinize yourself often are the biggest issues. After you come out to spouses and family.

Over the years, I have read about coming outs that have ranged from just showing up cross-dressed as your authentic self, all the way to writing letters trying to explain the way you feel. As far as I am concerned, just all of a sudden showing up as a woman (or a man) has too much of a shock value and is counterproductive when you are trying to explain how you want to live to the person sitting across from you. Writing a letter may be more preferable if you feel more comfortable expressing yourself with written words rather than speaking one on one with someone. In my case, even though I did not feel comfortable talking to family about my upcoming changes, I hitched up my new big girl panties (under my male clothes) and asked to speak privately with those family members closest to me.  My first attempt at coming out was with my only child, a daughter and as I always write about, she took it extremely well. Just to show me life could never be that easy, my coming out to my only brother went off the rails quickly and we have not spoken since about 2014.

Having said that, I do caution trans women and trans men who are just coming out to family and loved ones that you are in a marathon not a race and sooner more than later, your family might come around. Plus, there is an increasing amount of information available now to explain your desire to live as yourself. If you have the chance, you maybe able to direct them towards the positive aspect of what you are doing and away from all the negative news they may see from politicians on the media ads. In my case, the split between my brother and I ran so deep when he refused to stand up for me and invite me to our family’s traditional Thanksgiving Dinner, I just can’t forgive him for that.

On the positive side, the relatively few people who knew the former me notice almost immediately that I am happier now. And if you give someone the chance to calm down and see the real you, they will respect that and the real you.

Of course, as we flip back to the negative side, there are always those family members that will try to throw religion in your face. Unless you are more of a biblical scholar than I am, I usually just give up on them.

Overall, I find the different sides of transitioning between transgender women and transgender men to be interesting. Since I was raised around the male dominated world of trying to force my way through difficult situations, I never gave much thought to trans men having to adjust to not being passive aggressive so much. Then there is always the idea of using the restroom which hangs over both of us. Even though trans men are in a new world in a men’s room where no one wants to make eye contact or speak, there is always the idea of having to still find a stall to use. Which conceivably could attract unwanted attention depending upon how well you present and how long you have been on testosterone. I know I have oversimplified the men’s room process and if you are a trans man, I am always up for ideas on restroom survival.

Flipping the script again, using the women’s room as a trans woman is something I know quite a bit about. The first thing I quickly learned was I needed to make contact and speak when someone else was in “the room.” From there, much of what I learned was either common sense such as never placing my purse on the floor and making sure my stall still had toilet paper all the way to trying to pee in the bowl a certain way to mimic the ciswoman in the stall next to me. Then, no matter how much I was in a hurry to leave, I had to always stop at a sink, check my face and always wash my hands.

Anyway, you cut it, when you have desire to cross the gender border either way from male to female or female to male, you must learn so many nuances of the moves you are making. Even though there are strict rules you need to follow, often times you will find yourself making up your own rules as you go along. It is just the nature of the ultra-serious game we play. What has worked for me in the past may not work for you and often I hear from readers who have supporters and non-supporters in the same family. The only advice I can offer is to embrace your new gender allies and hope your detractors come around.

The end result always must be it is your life to live and you need to live it to be happy. Sometimes your path will lead you the wrong way, just like your GPS does on occasion but it is not time to panic until you can get readjusted. Be patient, and it will happen.

As always, thank you for the comments I receive, often they are difficult to answer seeing as how we dealt with such a complex issue such as gender. I just hope, in my small way I can help.

 

 

Feminine Power Moves

 

Image from Gayatri Mohotra
on UnSplash.

When I first began to seriously explore the world as a transgender woman, I was stripped of all my male privileges and wondered what I could do to survive if I found myself in questionable situations.

The big answer I learned was to try my best not to get myself into questionable situations to begin with. Lessons learned at an early age by ciswomen everywhere such as trying their best not to jeopardize their own personal security from toxic men. When I first came out, I was used to going where I wanted to go, when I wanted to do it which led me into several tense situations. One from a much bigger cross-dresser admirer who had me in his sights in a narrow hallway where I could not escape and another time when I was approached alone on a dark city sidewalk by two men in front of a gay venue. Neither place I should have been to by myself, and I was lucky to escape without any real problems.

By this time, I was used to the only feminine power I had was having doors opened for me by men and I knew I was missing much more in life if I wanted to pay my dues and transition into a transfeminine world basically the hard way. Since I couldn’t afford to go through any of the expensive gender surgeries of the time and did not have any insurance coverage that would cover any facial surgeries, I needed to find ways to accomplish what I wanted to face on my own. I learned the hard way that I could do anything I wanted to if I set my mind to it. Or I passed out of sheer willpower according to my transgender girlfriend Racquel. All it really meant was I was able to work my way into living the life I wanted to live through more effort on my physical appearance through better makeup skills and wardrobe basics. The same things I noticed other ciswomen doing in the world who themselves did not really have “passing privileges.” I just came into my privileges as a woman from a different way.

Another difficult phase of my male to female feminization project was the impact of woman-to-woman communication which continually goes on in the world that men are not subject to. Or the world of non-verbal communication women often use between themselves. I even went to the extent of taking feminine vocal lessons which focused more on what I said rather than how I said it. The keys I was taught were mainly built around the passive aggressive tone’s ciswomen take such as “are you sure you want to do that” rather than the traditional male “don’t do that.” I got quite a bit of valuable gender information from the course to use on my path which was always full of male stop signs. To repeat what I just said in essence instead of giving me a stop sign, my inner feminine soul was saying do you really want to do this.

Of course, the answer always came back to me one way or another that I was on the right path, and I felt so natural doing it that I just had to keep exploring what was ahead around the next blind curve. It was at this point that I began to discover what I had suspected all along those ciswomen had more going for them than having doors opened by men. With the help of HRT or gender affirming hormones, I opened my world to a whole new universe of emotions and senses I never knew (or allowed) myself to have. I was the one who could reach for her coat without shame when she was cold when my thermostat went crazy with hot flashes at the same time. And I became the one who could cry a happy tear at the drop of a dime. If I needed to or not. It was all part of who I was as I began to explore my feminine power base I was developing.

As I always do, I cannot give myself much of the credit for doing more than just surviving in the new women’s world I was as I began to thrive and enjoy my new power base. As my new friends kept telling me, welcome to their world. I needed to be careful how I responded because I did not want to give up much about myself and shield my male past.

Thankfully, by this time I had given up all my male privileges and was excited to be settling into my new life as a transgender woman preparing to go fulltime into the world. By doing so, I needed to prove to myself that I was no longer afraid of being rejected as a trans woman. Primarily by men who resented that I had left the boys club behind to slip behind the gender curtain to play in the girls’ sandbox. Thanks, in no small way to my lesbian friends who showed me how to validate myself.

Somehow, I managed to give myself extra time to drain the remnants of my old male life drain away before I went all the way and gave up all my male clothes. Which was the symbolic way of me finally severing my male past altogether. As difficult as it was to give up all those decades of struggling in a life I did not like, the relief of doing it was amazing.

Before I knew it, I was enjoying everything I could in the new transfeminine life I had only ever dreamed of. I was fortunate that I was able to live through several severe gender-based self-destructive incidents that I paid my dues on and was able to move on to find a whole new set of powers.

It turned out that I was simply giving too much trust to male powers I was born into and never had a chance to do anything about it. When I did, I seized control of my true powers and never looked back.

 

 

 

 

 

A Humbling Gender Experience

 

Image from Katherine Hanlon
on UnSplash. 

For literally decades, any thoughts I had of living a successful life as a transgender woman, were only thoughts. I was never sure if I had any chance of making it. In fact, most of the time it seemed as if I was swimming against the current in a fast-moving stream of ciswomen, I wanted to interact with so badly, on their terms.

Doing it on their terms was my problem as I had always tried my best to be a strong student as a man of how all the women around me were living their lives. The main issue always was that I was only allowed to see so much of what was going on across the gender border. Again, because I was a man and had not yet paid many dues yet as a novice cross-dresser and not even a transgender woman yet. I still thought my real issue in paying my dues to be let behind the gender curtain came from my appearance in the world. Just being able to blend in with the ciswomen around me was good enough.

It was quite a humble experience when I found my appearance (and no matter how much it was improving) was not going to be enough. Even though the mirror was being kind to me as it told me I presented well, I was still stuck behind it as I still needed to put the image into motion. I was caught in the place where I looked good as a woman…for a man trying hard to accomplish it. I desperately needed to find a place where I looked as if I wasn’t trying to dress to impress. I was just being me. The problem then became who was the me I was becoming? How deep did my feminine desires run and where would they ultimately take me became the main things I thought about in my life. Every spare moment I had was spent either actively cross-dressing in front of the mirror or making plans of going public with how I looked and making the world my mirror.

As I learned the hard way my lessons on how to blend in with the world around me, often I was brutally laughed at and rejected by the world because I was dressing to thrill and not to blend. I guess I could say, I was humbled in the worst way by groups of teen girls in the malls I was just trying to shop in. My initial goal back then was to face my teen critics one-on-one until I failed completely or succeeded after many times of going back to my cross-dressing drawing board. It was like ripping a band aid off a mental wound and saying too hell with it and trying again to be successful. Until I was.

Rather than become overconfident at that point, I decided to try to build upon my newfound success and work on things such as how I moved and walked in heels. I discovered that every little discovery helped in my male to female femininization project such as keeping the old male scowl off of my face when I was out as a transfeminine person. No more scaring little kids away who called me a woman which was good but a mean woman which was bad of course. It was the last thing I wanted to do after working so hard on the basics of presenting as a passable woman.

The more I progressed on my path to living as me, the more humbled I became. Too many nights I came home in disbelief at the lessons I had learned from men and ciswomen in public as I struggled to fill out my gender workbook which was way behind the rest of the world I was dealing with. I learned men did not value anything I had to say unless I was spoken to first and women had their own way of communicating around men even if the men thought they were in their conversation. Just as a starting point. I also learned of a whole new lesbian culture I knew nothing about and where I could possibly fit in as a femme lipstick lesbian. As you can understand, the terminology and how I fit in came at me quickly and again I was extremely humbled to be asked to go to lesbian mixers where I learned a lot.

I learned also that women lead much more layered existences than men do, often built around dealing with men themselves. I did not have to worry much about that because I was not attractive enough for men to pursue me and after my lesbian friends taught me I did not need a man for validation, my life brightened considerably.

As I progressed deeper and deeper along my gender path, it became increasingly obvious that I could indeed achieve my goal of someday succeeding in a feminine world. Even though in many ways it did not resemble my initial dreams. In no way did I think I could maintain my sense of sexuality as I never made it with a man. In my own way, I maintained my own “Gold Star” status that many lesbians I knew maintained. The closest I ever came to getting any real attention from a “GS” lesbian were a few kisses.

When my new world began to open up, I was very humbled to be there at all. Along the way, I have survived issues such as severe depression and negative attitudes towards me from loved ones to stick to my dreams and goals. Remembering where I came from helped me form the strong building blocks to complete such a diverse and difficult change in my life. Using the negatives in my male life to build a transfeminine one was one of the best moves I ever made in my life as I made a complete circle back through all my male years to be the person I always dreamed I could be.

I was back to being me. The only transition which really mattered.

 

 

 

 

 

Stepping off a Gender Cliff

 

Image from my first salon
visit 12 years ago.

As I slowly began to become part of the world as a transgender woman, I felt as if I was sliding down a steep slope towards a deep cliff which I could not see the bottom.

Not being able to see the bottom of the canyon I was facing was probably the scariest part of coming out as my authentic self and being allowed to be behind the gender curtain with ciswomen around me. Along the way, I worried about the smallest things such as my appearance, all the way to how I sounded if I had needed to talk to someone else. Many times, in an emergency only because I was so unsure of myself as a novice transfeminine person. Sadly, I learned the hard way that as weak as my communication skills as a trans woman were, not communicating at all with other women was worse. Because not saying anything made me come off as being somehow stuck up or worse yet, bitchy.

Through it all, I came off sliding slowly down my gender path as I ignored several stop signs thrown up by my male self or my second wife who knew she was in danger of losing her husband altogether. For most of my journey at this point of my life, I was in the dark and used that as an excuse of why I had just ignored or run the stop signs I was facing. Whatever the case, I was living an exciting yet scary time of my life.

When I came out to my daughter nearly a dozen years ago, I finally had lost my grip on the small trees and vines I was holding onto during my steep descent into trans womanhood.  She surprised me by promptly supporting me and her only question was why was she the last to know, when in fact she was the first to know I was much more than a part-time crossdresser (as my first wife and her mother thought), I was actually a transgender woman who was afraid to admit it to the world.

Since my birthday was right around the corner, my daughter volunteered as a gift to me to take me to her hair salon/spa for a haircut and color makeover on my hair which had become long enough to work with. Even though the whole idea scared me to death, I took her up on the offer and she made the appointment which would forever change my life.

Before I knew it or could even entertain any thoughts of backing out the day was upon me and the next thing I knew I was with my daughter and her stylist looking at seemingly endless color and style combinations that I needed to choose from. Plus, I had to walk past a endless line of women in chairs who had nothing else to do but give me their undivided attention as I walked by, nervous as hell and trying my best not to show it. Fortunately, I had a complimentary glass of wine to calm me down as I chose a highlighted blond/red cut which all of us thought suited me the best.

Once I was done and allowed to see myself, I have to say I was impressed and knew why ciswomen everywhere put so much emphasis on taking care of the hair through salons everywhere. As I left, I felt as if I could skip my daily dose of gender affirming hormones because the estrogen was so thick in the air in the salon. As I said, it all added up to a day I will never forget thanks to my supportive daughter I could never thank enough over the years as she helped me pick out a new legal name change that my three grandkids could easily grasp. Ironically, the middle grandchild who was in the fourth grade had a teacher who was an out gay teacher in the school system and had my grandchild as a student. Then my daughter needed to explain the difference in their gay teacher and their transgender grandparent. As you can tell, diversity ruled in their house and went full circle when my oldest grandchild came out as trans.

As it turned out, I had nothing to fear from sliding off my gender cliff because it turned out I had built such a group of supportive people to help me when I fell. Of course, I always have to mention my future third wife Liz who along with my daughter turned out to be my best allies during my male to female feminization project. In fact, it turned out they knew me better than I knew myself and showed me the way to success. Liz in particular always told me that she never saw any male in me at all. Which in many ways provided me with the powerful shove down my gender cliff into a world I always should have been part of in the world of ciswomen. I don’t know what I would have done without the guidance of women such as Kim and Nikki also. I just know I probably would have kept up the male charade I was living longer than I did.

Perhaps the ironic part of them providing me a safe landing was when all the ciswomen refused to take any credit. The only response I ever got was welcome to our world when I tried to share stories about my first hot flashes, so I learned to keep quiet and learn how to protect myself when the expected gender crash happened. Because of women such as Min and Kathy, their initial invitations to their girls only nights out helped me to learn what life behind the gender curtain was really all about.

If I had known all I had learned earlier about being a transfeminine person, I would have definitely taken the plunge down my cliff earlier than I did. Not much I can do about it now as I am very much where I wanted to be and the plunge was not too bad after all.

 

 

Destination Unknown

 

JJ Hart and wife Liz on Right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks for reading along!

Any comments are always welcomed! 

 

 

Hey You!!!! Meeting Myself in the Middle

 

Image from Adam Winger
on UnSplash. 

For me, meeting myself in the mirror was never easy to do. While the group of boys I grew up around were blissfully doing boy things without a problem, I was struggling with the idea that I wanted to be a girl.

Sadly, for the longest time, I thought that someday I would have the chance to outgrow what would become for all to call gender dysphoria. For me, I was just a kid with problems I had no idea of how to conquer. Through all this time of my life my favorite quote to pass along was when some adult asked me what I wanted to become when I grew up, I could never tell the truth and say a woman as I lied and said a doctor or a lawyer. The only thing with certain that I knew was I would get an immediate trip to the psychiatrist if I had ever told the truth compliments of my parents. 

As I always say, age entitled me to a chance not to outgrow being a cross-dresser but did give me the opportunity to meet myself in the middle and start to mature into the transgender woman I am today. Before I did though, I needed to come up with an understanding of what the middle of being me really meant. What made it all so difficult was that my male life when it was going well it was very good, but when it was bad, I wanted out immediately. As I ran to my makeup, dresses and heels for comfort in the mirror.

The middle began to be harder and harder for me to find when I left the home mirror, gathered my courage and headed into the world as a transfeminine person. Many times, I could almost see and sense my middle person in the public mirrors I was still using to build myself up in places such as clothing stores in the malls and changing rooms I had started to use in all the thrift stores I was shopping to discover the latest fashion item I could wear. I was never any good shopping for women’s clothes as a man, as my feminine self-wanted to do it all and make all the final choices for herself.

In addition to fighting for the middle with my male self, I needed to fight my second wife for the rights to her husband. Like my male-self, my wife was a formidable opponent to any idea of me transitioning any further into the feminine world I increasingly wanted to live in. In many ways, she held all the gender cards because she knew I was a cross dresser when we met but never/ever agreed to me going past that point as she said she did not sign up to live with another woman. For whatever reason she never liked the transgender woman I was becoming and passed away before she could meet the finished product I had become. I don’t blame her because she just got caught in the middle of me not wanting to admit to what I always knew deep down…there was actually no middle point to me, I was destined to eventually live my life among ciswomen as an equal transgender woman.

The problem was, getting to the point of realizing all of this was easy to write about and harder to do. The biggest mistake I made was thinking my gender balance between male and female was so good that I could live as both in the world. While I maintained a long-term marriage and a good job. Trying to go all in on both genders cost me my already fragile mental health as I was still trying to do my research in the public eye about which gender direction I wanted to go. Long story short, I found without too much trouble I could carve out a new feminine life without the world questioning anything about my old male life. As I surveyed the world suddenly, I could see gender possibilities opening for me that I never thought possible before.

During this time in my life, I think I met myself in the middle too fast and tried unsuccessfully to slow my progress down until I could figure out what to do about the rest of my life. Primarily my second wife and my very lucrative job. Plus, on the other hand, I had put this gender teeter totter in motion, and it increasingly looked as if I could not get off. I kept up the old male charade I was forced to live as long as I needed to, and with the help of a few ciswomen friends, I was able to find a new middle point in my life as a trans woman. Which seemed to work well, until HRT or gender affirming hormones came my way, and the balance of my life was changed forever.

I had always viewed the possibility of me taking the gender altering hormones as a line of demarcation of me never going back to my old male life and it was. From the obvious growth of my breasts and hair to the overall softening of my skin and facial lines the changes came fast and furious and again I was forced to move up my timeline to discard (or give away) all my old male clothes and set my sights on a new bright future. Away from all the uncertainties of going back and forth between the two main binary genders of womanhood and manhood. My lifetime of juggling identities went away, my mental health improved as I entered the world I had always dreamed of my entire life that I had finally earned my way into.

The “earn” word is important here because of all the trial and error (mostly error) I put into finally facing the reality of my true gender and forever stopped meeting myself in the middle. Was it worth it? Sure, because I ended up not having any choice after all.

 

 

 

 

Who Had it Easier

 

JJ Hart

The most ridiculous understatement I ever made to myself was thinking how much easier women have it in their lives than men do.

Those were the simpler days of just envying all the girls around me for their ability to wear pretty clothes when I was stuck in my usual boring male attire. As you can tell, my adolescent thought patterns about gender were much shallower back in those days. All I knew was I was having issues with going through male puberty and all its hair and added angles to my body while the girls were adding all the curves I so desperately wanted. It was about that time when I started to further torture myself by having dreams of being a pretty girl when I just had to wake up again to the same old world, I was so tired of at such an early age.

Another benefit I saw from the outside from being a girl was on the dating front. From my ultra shy vantage point, boys had to do all the work to chase a girl but gave it no thought to be a girl with no boys having any interest in you at all. It seemed all my ideas came from the problem I had for years of not being allowed to see behind the gender curtain to go through the insecurities of a girl’s puberty. As their bodies ramp up the necessities for possible childbirth later in life.  Which leads me to this, the incredibly short period of time a ciswoman has to level out their hormones and have the chance to live a so-called normal life. First, they have to go through puberty which shapes their bodies then go through child birthing years which strain their bodies and then go through menopause to reduce all the hormones again. Not to mention all the monthly menstrual periods most women must live with too.

In the days when I was busy with just being the “pretty, pretty princess” as my wife called me, she was taking me to task about never experiencing the so called downs of being a woman because I just wanted to appear as one, perfect my makeup and wear my pantyhose and heels as much as I could. For years, I went on clicking my merry way in my heels not giving much thought to what she was telling me. It was not until many years later that my heels finally led me to a path where I could finally learn what she was talking about.

Essentially, what I was able to learn from being a transgender woman and being able to live on both sides of the gender border was that both genders have their challenges. That humans are born as male and female, then get socialized (if they are lucky) into men and women. We transfeminine persons just were born into an unwanted male gender and were socialized into our chosen lives as trans women. The whole process gives us a deeper understanding of the world as we look into who has it easier in life, ciswomen or men.

Since the socialization process of being a male was what I was born into proved to be partially successful one for me, I have always thought men have had it easier. And women have it harder because they must put up with men. Even though, my gender dysphoria issues made me difficult to live with as a husband, I somehow have always found a woman to make the journey with me. Someday, I will have to write a post on the differences of my three wives during my life.

As I continued in vain to find the easy way out in my life, being a guy was the way to go as I found success in being able to bluster my way through in many situations and in others wondering how I would approach them as a transgender woman.

Finally, my gender travel took me behind the gender curtain where I could hear firsthand the experiences of all my ciswomen friends. It was not until then did I realize the grass was not always so green on the other side of the binary gender border. The only problem I did have was reversing all my experiences in the conversations we were having from male to female, so I did not out myself to my friends. I knew I was beginning to be successful when strangers outside of my circle of friends began to ask me questions on what to do about getting along with their boyfriend. I was flattered that other women had trusted me with their problems and were looking for input.

My own socialization journey had taught me that neither gender had it easier. Stereotyping here, men largely bluster and run when they can’t get their way and women are left to raise the kids and pick up the pieces. It is difficult to take such a complex subject such as gender and not stereotype something about it at some point, so I apologize.

I am sure that no matter where you are on your gender journey, you will encounter your own set of standards when it comes to the male and female genders and where you fit. It will certainly be an interesting journey with many individuals trying to tell you to stop. At that point, you must decide if maybe you have had it more difficult than either of the two main binary genders you have encountered. Many of them simply will not have the understanding it takes to approve of your journey, and you will have to move on. But, on the other hand, there could others who approve of you and even want to help. Just be careful that you know which is which.

When it comes right down to it, that girl you envied from afar in study hall, all the way to the woman whose fashion and passing privilege you admired so much both had their own problems to deal with. You just must get behind the feminine gender curtain to figure out just what they were.

 

 

 

 

When Nothing Else Mattered

 

Image from Klara Khokhlova
on UnSplash. 

Perhaps, similar to many of you, you have been described as selfish when you pursued your gender desires. I know, I was by my second wife as she told me many times my desire to be a pretty cross-dresser in my life was not all about me.

During this time of my life, sadly or not, all my spare thoughts and time dedicated to my cross-dressing activities, so yes, it was all about me. I did my best not to be that way, but I was failing miserably. Especially when I figured it out, I could leave the house as me and do a portion of the household chores such as grocery shopping. I figured by doing so, I was helping my wife and at the same time helping myself.

The more proficient I became at doing my new portion of some of the weekday household chores, the more I felt that nothing else mattered to me than my quest to explore my inner femininity. Increasingly, I broke the rules and made excuses to leave the house and explore the new, natural and exciting world I was experiencing.

As years always do, mine flew by in a blur as I became more proficient in perfecting my feminine appearance and it began to be more apparent to me that the life as I was living as a man would have to be sacrificed at some point if I wanted to pursue my dream goal of living as a transfeminine person. That is when I began to fall back on my ill-fated male habits of internalizing all my feminine feelings. Hoping that eventually, they would just go away. Compliments of my latest purge of my cross-dressing belongings.

Very soon, it became evident that all the purging in the world would not rid me of my deep-seated gender issues and nothing else began to matter, not even the massive fights my second wife and I were having when she caught me out of the house as myself. I would go to any extent possible to try to mend the wounds from my breaking the promises not to ever go out again unattended, all the way to promising I would go to a therapist in Columbus, Ohio who specialized in gender care to attempt to solve my “problem.” Even then, I would not listen to the therapist who told me that my gender issues were not a “problem”, and there was nothing she could do about them. I made the mistake again of thinking there was something radical I could do about how I was attempting to live my life. I could keep trying to sneak out of the house and try to learn more about my possibilities of living life as a transgender woman, while at the same time continue to live with my wife. She always know I was a cross-dresser but was completely dead set against me going any further towards being approved for gender affirming hormones (HRT) and living as my authentic self.

Perhaps the biggest problem was I was not sure what my authentic self really was. I knew I loved my second wife as much as the day I married her years before, but I really was not sure of how deep my transgender issues were going to run. Plus, all the research I was doing into a new life, jeopardized my old life which at times was not so bad because I was accumulating all the male privileges such as wife, family and job that I did not necessarily want to get rid of. The whole situation just mentally tore me up as I did not know what gender I was going to be from day to day. Was I going to try to be my true self or go out into the world again and “act” like the strong man I was not.

It all led me to feeling completely detached from the world and wanting to end it all because I felt so worthless to everybody. Fortunately, after I hit rock bottom, I got help from a good therapist and was prescribed medications which helped my on-going Bi-polar disorder and anxiety. It turned out my anxiety was triggered in many ways by my gender issues so that was easier to solve, but my depression was not so my new meds really helped. Giving credit to where credit is due, my help came through the Veterans Administration health care system and as luck would have it, I was teamed up with a therapist who knew what she was doing when it came to depression and LGBTQ care.

By this time, my second wife had tragically passed away from a major heart attack leaving me totally alone with my thoughts. Quickly, since nothing else mattered, I took the path of least resistance into my own form of womanhood. All those dues I was paying as a cross dresser working with my appearance came back to help me when I could hit the ground running in my heels (not really) and concentrate on rounding out my persona of the trans woman I wanted to me in the world of alpha cis women around me. I was able to see and learn from what they did to make their lives more fulfilling as women, and I wanted to do that too. I was having fun while at the same time was secretly learning everything I could from the ciswomen around me.

Most certainly, nothing else mattered when I sought out approval for my gender affirming hormones from a doctor I found in an LGBTQ newspaper. Along with the hormones, I was putting my new life together by legally changing all the gender documents I could with the VA and in the civilian world. Very soon, my old male life was in my past and my “dead” name faded away.

The only thing that did matter was building a new life with my third wife Liz, a lesbian ciswoman who accepted me for what I was. I could not let a second chance such as that pass me by.

 

 

Gender Evolution

 

Image from Hoite Prins
on UnSplash. 

Sometimes I think I give the wrong impression when it comes to my reactions to cross-dressing as a whole.

In reality, the last thing I want to do is put myself up on some sort of pedestal because I have survived my own personal gender wars and evolved from a young boy experimenting in his women’s clothes to living full-time as a transfeminine person in the world. After all, I was the one who spent nearly four decades cross-dressing my life away trying to make a final decision on which way my life would take me. So, saying “just a cross-dresser” would be totally wrong for me to do. In fact, cross dressing saved my life from taking off the overall pressure I was feeling from living my gender conflicted life. Just the slightest glimmer of hope I got from the mirror was all I had to get by and I used it to the max.

As I look back from the journey I took from wearing my mom’s clothes when they still fit me, all the way to getting rid of all my male clothing altogether (except my Army uniform), it was quite the lifetime of evolution. Sadly, not all the times were good, but they were all deep learning experiences. Such as all the times I was dressing to thrill myself. Not to properly attempt to blend in with the ciswomen around me. Very difficult lessons to learn as I needed to put my faux teenaged cross-dressing years behind me quickly if I ever wanted to be a success. I was far from being a teen girl since I was in my thirties with the testosterone poisoned body I was working with. I needed to evolve and do it fast if I was ever would be able test the idea I could survive as a transgender woman, leading a successful life.

Suddenly, out of the clear blue sky which was my existence more or less back in those days, something mentally clicked in me as I was preparing to go out into the world one night. As I slipped into my panty hose and heels, put on my makeup and wig, my whole thought pattern changed. I was no longer trying to just go out and successfully present well as a look-a-like ciswoman, I was going out to fit right into their community as a novice trans woman. The thought hit me like a thunderbolt and scared me to even think that way, but I could feel my life making a seismic shift for the better. If I could be successful, which still was a big question.

I am not shy about writing about one of the most exciting nights of my life went I went to mingle with a group of professional ciswomen who worked at a nearby mall. I don’t know what scared me worse, the fear of being recognized as an intruder and embarrassed or the fear of knowing if I was successful, I could never go back to the male life I was starting to evolve away from. I just know I was so scared I thought I would need an oxygen tank to help me breathe when I went in the venue to mingle with all those young attractive women.

You can probably guess what happened from there. I was very successful and knew my future as a cross-dresser was behind me as I had evolved into a novice transgender woman. Complete with two new straight venues I had established myself in as a regular. Something I never thought possible just a few months before when I was frequenting gay venues getting mistaken for just another drag queen. I should be more appreciative towards the reaction I received from the gay community because their attitudes sent me flying to places, I knew and enjoyed as a man. If I had evolved enough as a trans woman to do it.

At that point, my evolution into being allowed behind the women’s gender curtain was forced fed to me quickly. Mainly from other women who I met and wanted to help me adjust to the world I so desperately wanted to be a part of. Sometimes, I was overconfident and was sent back to my gender drawing board when I tried to go too fast, too soon but I never had to go back to the days when I was learning to adjust to the world outside my closet as a cross-dresser. Every angle I pursued in the world seemed to be new and exciting as I learned my feminine lessons well. You might say, I was the ultimate gender sponge because I was finally realizing my gender light at the end of the tunnel was not the train and a good life as a transfeminine person was certainly possible if I kept evolving. All the years of worrying about my future I had wasted in my life were just that…wasted and I needed to move on.

Better yet, I learned the world of ciswomen I was evolving into was worth every bit of the work I had put into it. Sure, I did encounter a few haters, bigots and TERF’s (ciswomen who hated me) but with my newfound confidence I had evolved into, I could quickly ignore them and get along with my life. If I got to the point where I ever needed my new friends to step up for me, they would but I had made it to the point where I could fight my own battles if I needed to.

In many ways, I see the evolution of transgender women and transgender men as the future as now the genders seem to be blurring for the younger generations. Maybe when the old white men finally die out, their bigotry will die out with them. Right now they are scared of the potential a trans tribe carries to understand what goes on both sides of the gender coin and we will be allowed to evolve back to where we were with native American cultures which honored us. But that is an evolvement topic for another time.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

Visiting the Vampires

 

Image from Mike Lloyd
on UnSplash.

Today was a rushed visit to the Cincinnati Veterans Hospital for bloodwork before they shut down for a week to switch over to a new digital system that we all know will cause new headaches.

Most all my bloodwork can be done at an off-site closer clinic to my house which does not require a trip downtown into a very congested area. Plus, with my mobility issues, it makes the entire process of going downtown for specialized work very unpopular with me and my wife Liz who must do all the driving.

The specialized test I needed to get done before the shutdown June fourth was for my Estradiol blood levels. For some reason, my levels had dropped nearly fifty points from a level they had been at for literally years. For that reason, my endocrinologist requested another test of my HRT levels. When this level comes back, if it stays low, it will be interesting to see what ideas she has, such as maybe doing away with the patch system and switching to injections which for no real reason, I have always stayed away from.  I am not afraid of needles; I am just lazy about the possibility of giving myself injections. One way or another, I will have to jump off that bridge when I come to it. I think my hormonal levels have jumped back up because of an overall increase in the fullness of my breasts, so I may be jumping to conclusions I did not have to.

Past that, we were able to beat the rush this morning at the VA because the vampires (blood lab people) open up at six thirty and we were able to get an early start and be there before seven. For the appointment, I chose a three-quarter sleeve feminine lace trimmed blouse, leggings and flats. Along with a light application of makeup which seemed to work because I was not misgendered at all and was actually smiled at by several men who passed me by on the way to the second-floor labs. I will take that as a win everyday since I have had mixed results over the years at that hospital. Usually, the smaller clinic I go to is better because they know and remember me, but they just could not do the specialized Estradiol test because they needed to send it out for testing.

Now I play the waiting game (which if you were in the military, you know what I am talking about) before I can get the results back. I doubt if it will be very soon because of the overall system disruptions which are coming up.

This is a short post today because it is my transgender grandchild’s birthday today who is working up in Maine and I have to send them birthday wishes plus a small gift. Happy Birthday “A.”

 

  

Looking Both Ways at Stop Signs on my Gender Path

 

Image from Alex Azerbache
on UnSplash.

I learned the hard way; I needed to look carefully both ways when crossing my gender path from male to female. If I did not, I ran the risk of being caught in the wild world of everyday traffic around me. When I left my mirror for the first time, gathered all my courage and went out into the world, I discovered basically three groups of people.

By far, the biggest group I didn’t need to pay much attention to were all the people who were going about their lives and not needing to notice anyone else. The second group was smaller and mostly just curious. They were mostly women and were curious why a man would leave a life of privilege to want to live as a woman. Or at least try to look like one. Sadly, the most vocal of the three groups were the gender bigots, TERFS (cis women who hate trans women and want to deny our existence) or just plain haters who wanted to make my business theirs. I learned the hard way several times to take nothing for granted when I went out in the world and look both ways at stop signs on my gender path.

I also learned the hard way that no matter how good I thought I looked and moved on a certain day, someone would always see through my efforts to be a presentable transgender woman and take exception with it. Some were mean and wanted to make fun of me, and some were not but I always had to be aware of the possibility of ill-will coming my way. I needed to come to a full stop until the unpleasantness went away, and I could go about living the new life as a transfeminine person I felt so comfortable in. When my confidence began to grow to a point where I could navigate most of the public comfortably, I did not care what the occasional gender bigot thought, and my confidence turned out to be my biggest weapon against hatred against me. It was tough to do, because the confidence was so frail but somehow, I was able to do it as I became more effective in my feminine presentation skills.

It probably was because this was the time of my life when I was obsessed with every little aspect of my appearance as a woman. Every now and then, I take the time to go back and read some of my earliest posts and I am continually amazed about appearance centric my writings were woven around. Just the right amount of makeup and how I did my eyes, all the way to just the right accessories to go with my outfits were prime examples of what I was writing about. It was no wonder that my second wife delighted in calling me the “pretty, pretty princess” when she told me I knew nothing about being a woman.

Rather than discourage me, her comments spurred me on to try to figure out what she meant. All along I thought I was the ultimate student of the ciswomen around me, only to learn I had not yet scratched the surface of what I needed to learn to earn myself a spot in the girls’ sandbox. Looking back, I do think my expertise in making my feminine appearance better did help me because for the most part (except for my wife) most ciswomen knew I was serious in my journey to be let behind the gender curtain as I needed to stop on my gender path, look both ways for ciswomen, let them through and then move ahead on my own. And by the way, the “princess” got her revenge one night when my wife needed to ask for advice on which makeup to wear.

When I finally was allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox, the stop signs I routinely faced really began to multiply. I had gone the extra distance to lead my inner feminine trans person out of the mirror and into the world by doing a deep dive into the basics of makeup and appearance all the way to working diligently on my feminine movements so I would not look like a linebacker in drag in heels at the mall. All my efforts worked out so well that the world wanted to communicate with me. Which put me into shock because I was woefully short on any experience to do it. All I had ever done was speak very briefly with cashiers and was not prepared to carry on any sort of a conversation.

All I did know was ciswomen communicate on a different wavelength than men and I needed quickly to find out what it was and how to do it, so I could survive my next stop sign. Surprisingly, I was a quick learner and mimicked the women around me the best I could until I became semi-comfortable in conversations with them. Primarily, I learned that for the first time in my life I needed to listen closely to what another woman was telling me because she could be talking in feminine “tongues.” In other words, I learned ciswomen use a lot of nonverbal communication when they don’t want men to know what they are talking about and use a lot of passive aggressive words when they communicate. When I stopped at the verbal stop sign, I needed to use extra caution to make sure a smiling face was not hiding behind my back aggression when we interacted.

I survived my communication days partially from taking feminine vocal lessons which specifically helped me to use terms which were more feminine in nature and not so male orientated. Which I was used to. I said I was a quick learner, but learning fast was all I could do to survive in the new feminine world I loved so much. I found myself immersed in a labor of love that I wanted more and more of every night that I spent interacting socially with my ciswomen friends. It was like I was back in grade school again learning the basics of being a quality feminine person.

From then on out, the only stop signs I saw were the ones I learned on my new path with women to stop at which they had done their whole lives and I was making up for in my own way quickly. The “pretty, pretty princess” had grown up, but sadly my second wife missed my progress when she tragically passed away early in life from a massive heart attack. I don’t think we could have ever stayed together. Being friends on the other hand was probably a possibility because we were together for twenty-five years of our lives. It will be forever one of the mysteries I will never solve. A giant stop sign.