Looking Both Ways at Stop Signs on my Gender Path

 

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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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She Was Living Rent Free in my Head

 

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on UnSplash.

It took me years to realize that I had a tenant living rent free in my head all along.

I should have known from day one when I was going through my mom’s clothing that she was here to stay. In fact, she increasingly demanded more and more space in my head to justify her life as a cross-dresser or transvestite as we were called back then. I would need to wait several years for the transgender term to even become popular in our gender diverse society.

Also very early, I realized that the small closet I gave her to exist in just was not going to be enough. When she succeeded in expressing herself in the world in the smallest of occasions, she wanted to increase her space in my head. Prime examples were the days in school during study halls when I should have been actually studying. But I wasn’t as if I was having too much fun envying the girls around me who I desperately wanted to be like the next time I had the rare chance to be by myself and cross-dressed as a pretty girl in the mirror. And I realized I did not want them sexually as much as I wanted to be them physically and mentally.

It was during that portion of my life that I completely did not have any idea of how much rent-free space my evolving trans woman needed for her share of my head. Now I want back all the time my male self-spent fighting her for my life as I lived it. The gender ripping and tearing was certainly no fun, as both genders in my head fought for their right to survive. For awhile I tried the old male fallback of just try to ignore my number one problem in my life and she would somehow just disappear. When, in fact, the opposite was happening. The thrill of putting on a dress, hose and makeup would go away, and in its place, I would have a deep-seated feeling of just doing what was coming to be just natural for me. It was increasingly evident that I would need more space for my rent-free tenant to operate in as she went out to explore the world as a novice transfeminine person.

Following more than a few rough patches when she was going out in the world, my woman began to understand the sacrifice of her male ways it would take to survive. She became more serious and began to work on the basics such as presenting herself convincingly in the world. I went on a crash diet and succeeded in taking off enough weight so I could go down a size or two in the world of women’s fashion and I could find and wear stylish clothes for a change. Along with that major move, I began to take extra better care of my skin. Using a good moisturizer following every shave. Which paid off by not having to use so much foundation makeup and I could look so much more natural as if I was not trying so hard to look like an attractive woman. The trips I started to make to the department store makeup counters for guidance certainly did not hurt my progress either.

I was learning the hard way that I could not cut any corners if I was to be successful in my quest to present successfully in a world of curious ciswomen. I needed to give my rent-free tenant the opportunity to expand her space in my head and the finances to do it. I would be spotted a mile away as a man trying to be a woman if I used cheap makeup and did not do my best to shop for (and try on) clothes that fit me and even flatter my testosterone poisoned figure that I could do very little about. I did learn from my observations of the ciswomen around me that there were women of every shape and size that I could copy from and be successful. Which gave me the positive energy to carry on and pass as a trans woman friend of mine said, “Out of sheer will power.”

Even though the progress of my rent-free tenant was not moving along as fast as she wanted, there were still major obstacles in my way to deal with. Such as what would happen to my twenty-five-year marriage, my relationship with my daughter and the problem of finding a new job as a trans woman in the world. To be sure, all were major obstacles to deal with, so my tenant would have to be patient as she was beginning to understand she was the only tenant left in my head with any power. My male self was just going through the motions of life to keep a job and the outwardly show of male privilege in my life.

Finally, it was time to go on gender affirming hormones and allow my tenants to switch places. My previous rent-free tenant had earned her right to live as the dominant person in my life and my male self was left to pick up the pieces. I should say baggage more than pieces, because that is what he left me to consider in my new feminine life as a fulltime transgender woman. It was difficult to do, but I was able to keep several of my main male building blocks of my life such as my will to succeed and a deep-seated desire to bring my hobbies with me such as my love of sports. Which I learned was alright when I made ciswomen friends with the same passion for sports that I had built up over the years of my life.

While I certainly would not recommend a life like mine to anyone. Letting someone live rent free in your head for all those years was never easy. Perhaps, the only positive was, having all that time to learn the world as a trans woman gave me a stable basis to work from. That is my excuse, and I am sticking to it.

 

 

Transgender Challenges

 

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For me, the challenges of being a transgender woman ran deep and came often.

The first challenges I faced were just keeping my small collection of feminine belongings secret from my younger brother and parents. From there, my dealings with my cross-dressed self and the world only would intensify as I grew up. Very soon, the move from closet to the mirror would not be enough to satisfy my gender curiosity, and I began to leave the house when I could dress in my clothes and makeup for small walks to our rural mailbox. As puberty took its toll, finding anything to wear became my biggest problem because I was outgrowing my short mom’s clothing. She was only five foot two.

Somehow, I beat the challenge of keeping my deep gender secret to myself and kept up my routine of taking every spare moment to satisfy my desire to be a girl. Of course, it took me awhile to come close to perfecting anything which came close to being acceptable when it came to applying makeup and even shaving my legs. Which I was probably sneaking around and doing before most of the girls I was around who I envied so much. As it turned out, the magic of makeup really escaped me until I had the courage to accept the challenge of having a professional makeup artist do my makeup (and explain what he was doing) at a transgender-cross dresser social I was attending in Columbus, Ohio years later. The makeup pro taught me the basics of foundation, contouring, eyes and lips among other helpful tips. All the compliments I received showed me I was indeed on the right path I had chosen in life, and I could at least expect to fit in with other ciswomen in the world on a regular basis.

Then, as I always point out, the real work and challenge of what I was setting out to do set into my life. At the same time my male counterpart was beginning to establish himself as a successful person in his chosen career. As much as my self-destructive personality kept trying to tear down all he accomplished, it never worked, and he succeeded anyway. Which meant he was increasing the amount of potential baggage I would have to account for if I was ever going to reach my goal of living as a successful transfeminine person.

What hurt me was when I miscalculated what it was going to take to live the life I always dreamed of. The challenge was making the jump of just looking similar to a ciswoman, all the way to having a basic idea of how she lived her life. A great example of how my cross-dressing fun and games became very serious when just after I decided to go full time as a trans woman and had given away all my male clothes, my wife Liz’s dad passed away and I needed something appropriate to wear to the viewing and funeral. I was fortunate that I had several items of clothing in black, so I could be properly dressed for the occasion. A long way from the day-to-day life I was expecting to challenge me as I went through my male to female femininization project.

It turned out to be a huge step in my life when I finally accepted the challenge to live the life, I was always destined to live. I was no longer the lost kid in the mirror desperately cross-dressing his life away dreaming of a world he could not be part of. I was a full-fledged adult with a rapidly clearing view of the challenge ahead if she wanted to survive. Perhaps you noticed I used the “she” pronoun as I increasingly adopted it as my referred self. It made me feel more complete as a transgender woman. If I did not believe in myself at this point of my life, how could I convince the world who I was anyhow.

The next big challenge to me was seeing if I could be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT which I am still on (thankfully) to this day. Before I did anything with the hormonal challenge, I knew I would have to seek out a doctor’s approval to see if I was healthy enough to do it. I was able to find an ad for a doctor in nearby Dayton who said he specialized in hormonal care and I made the appointment which would change my life forever.

In our first meeting, the doctor gave me a brief physical, asked me a few questions about what I knew the HRT would do to me and started me on a minimum dosage to see if there would be any ill effects. There were not, and very soon I was on a larger dose of the magical hormones my body seemed to take to naturally and the changes to my body were on. In fact, the changes began to happen so fast, the challenge then became to move up my timetable on when I was going to give up what was left of my male existence. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide my growing breasts, softening skin and long hair from the public and all the internal changes such as emotions from myself. I finally had enough and embarked on the greatest challenge of my life at the age of sixty. I put nearly half of a century of a part-time cross-dressing life behind me and never looked back.

Destiny helped me too, when the Veterans Administration health care system which I was a part of began to treat gender dysphoria in veterans with hormonal care. I needed again to go through the approval process and made it again as it seemed as if the challenges would never end. It was worth it because it tied me in with the VA’s mental health system for my depression and anxiety issues. As luck would have it, I was paired up with a mental health professional who I was with for years and helped me with all my issues such as having my legal gender markers changed within the VA and society at large.

I guess the challenge of any first-time experience can be traumatic for any human being. It just seems unfair that transgender women and transgender men have more than their fair share of challenge.

 

 

 

 

The Original Witches Ball as an Up-and-Coming Trans Woman

 

JJ Hart.

Back in the day, the Cincinnati area used to host what was called the “Original” Witches Ball around the Halloween season of course. It was called “The Original” because several copycat dances had sprung up attempting to copy the success of the first one.  Of significance to me was the ball that year was actually the third date my wife Liz and I had been on. Our first two dates had been to a drag show and a Renaissance festival, so another themed date would fit right in until we got to know each other better.

Perhaps the highlight of the witches’ ball was the venue itself. It was in a huge vintage Victorian house which had been expanded in the past to include an auditorium with a balcony and stage. For the evening, I thought I would go all the way in black with a hand-picked outfit guaranteed to be fun and just a little on the sleezy side. I went with a short black sleeveless minidress with black panty hose, a sequined net shawl and black heels. Since I was not quite to the point where I could style my own hair and wear it, I decided to wear a long curly black wig I had purchased a long time ago. For the party, we were even able to reserve a nearby hotel room so we could get ready and spend the night without having to worry about driving since it was within walking distance.

As I was to discover later in the evening, the only mistake I made in my outfit was the high-heeled shoes I chose to wear. As the night wore on, so did the strain the shoes put on my feet. Fortunately, I was able to kick them off at key places in the venue which had carpeted floors. I guess you could say I paid the price for fashion the night of the witch’s ball. Other than that setback, I had a wonderful time with Liz enjoying the entertainment on the main stage. The costume contest (which I did not enter) and all the exotic belly dancers who performed during the evening in another part of the venue.

All too soon the party was over, and my head was still spinning over all the wonderful costumes I saw, all the vendors with their merchandise and even getting an introduction to the “Captain Jack Sparrow” impersonator who complimented me on my “costume.”

I was hoping the alcohol I consumed would dull the pain in my feet for the walk back to the hotel in my heels, but it didn’t and off came the heels and on came the sidewalk in my panty hose for the short walk back. For all the fun I had, the brief pain was worth it. Little did I know at that time, I would be able to return to the witches’ ball in the future in a much bigger role as a behind the scenes organizer. And Liz and I would be able to cement our relationship with other entertaining dates.

It turned out that the witches’ circle Liz was already part of when I met her wanted to try to take on the huge task of organizing and putting on another annual ball. The first thing they needed to do was negotiate a rate for the same venue, which was crucial for the success of the event. Since I enjoyed being part of the group putting together another ball, I was given the opportunity to set up a vendor’s table to sell cookbooks and other crafts the group had put together. The fact was not lost on me that I had transitioned with all of them from a transgender woman to just another integral part of the group. Or circle that it was referred to.

 We only managed another couple of balls in the original venue it had was so uniquely designed for. Old and spooky to start with, it was simply ideal for what we wanted it for but the newer future places just did not come up to its standards of uniqueness, and the attendance began to decline. I did add an image showing what I did wear to the last of the old-style Cincinnati Witches Balls. I chose my black silk pants with a red sequined sleeveless top with my own hair this time around topped off with an oversized black hat you can’t see in the picture. Furthermore, I learned my shoe lessons this time around and wore a pair of sensible flats. The only positive I got from researching where we could have our next event was being invited to visit possible venues. Many of which were in Cincinnati brew pubs which meant I could sample some good beer.

These days, the Witches’ Ball event still hangs on in a vastly smaller form as it is held now only in a local bar. I, however, will always remember what the event meant to me. I was able to express myself for the last time in a hyper-Halloween atmosphere where I attempted to dress as a sexy woman and this time with a date who would become my wife later in life. From then on, I transitioned male to female into a world I had only dreamed of and any work I did on the ball was from my new viewpoint. Not to mention, I really appreciated the lack of special attention I received just because I was a trans woman in a group made up primarily of ciswomen and a few men.

I would have never thought just going to such a special venue for an outstanding event would lead to such far-reaching circumstances for me. It proved once again how life can be a strange but wonderful set up of possibilities which are there for you if you can ever set out to achieve them. For many of us that is the problem which hurts us in life. If it is something you can’t overcome.

Thanks for reading along and adding your comments. It makes it all so worthwhile for me!

 

 

You Never Know until You Try

 

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on UnSplash.

You never know until you try was drilled into me as a kid by my WWII generation parents whenever I was facing a potential difficult situation. Little did they know, their insistence on me trying to do the improbable would come back to haunt them in a very different way. Back in those days (in the 1950’s) gender issues were referred to as mental illness and any reference to their eldest son being mentally ill would have been frowned on, so I was stuck wondering if I was really a boy who wanted to be a girl.

The only thing I knew to do was to keep cross-dressing in front of the family’s full length hallway mirror. Imagining I was one of the pretty girls I desperately wanted to be. At the time, I had no idea my gender issues would last the better part of fifty years and take up huge portions of my life. Not that I could have done anything about it if I had tried which I did a number of times when I purged nearly all my feminine belongings swearing never to pick them up again. I was stuck being a male and somehow, I needed to make the best of it. Like so many people I knew with gender issues, purging never worked. The pressure built until I could take it no longer and again, I was accumulating women’s clothes again and wearing them.

At the least I tried to go back to mentally being male full-time and failed miserably at it. All I knew was when I was not thinking about getting out of my dark, lonely gender closet, I was not happy at all and when I at least tried to be me in the mirror it took the pressure off. Even if it was only for a while. At the same time, I was acutely aware that I was doing the best I could to see if I could improve my appearance as a pretty girl. How I never got caught doing all of this, I will never know, and I even resorted to taking plastic bags of clothes and makeup into the neighboring woods so I could escape the prying eyes of my slightly younger brother and family.

My mentality of never knowing you could do something until you try really came to the forefront when I was drafted into the Army during the Vietnam War. Instead of taking the two-year plan with a ticket to Southeast Asia, I took a chance and signed up to try to get a job I wanted in the American Forces Radio and Television Service. With a lot of luck and the help of a congressman whose radio station I worked for, against all odds, I got one of the sixty job slots in the Army for AFRTS. It turned out the whole process turned my life around and taught me that anything could be possible. If you went out of your way to try. Probably the most valuable lesson that I could have ever learned as I looked ahead at my path to becoming a successful transfeminine person. If it had worked for me once, why couldn’t it do it again.

As I set out to leave my gender closet behind and improve my life, I know I took on a journey I would not readily recommend to others. When I started to leave the mirror and join the world as a trans woman, I used a tool that I had already used effectively as a man in my previous life. It was alcohol, and I knew I could use it to build up much needed courage to be in the world as a transgender woman and not get myself into more trouble as I was presenting as a single woman in an establishment which served alcohol. Gay, straight or lesbian, it did not matter. I found I could get by if I stayed out of the redneck leaning venues. I was also well schooled in the artform of driving while buzzed from all my days in the Army when I did all the driving. More than anything else, this was back in the days before the major crackdowns on drunken drivers, so I was safer, and in NO WAY do I recommend what I did.

Also, what I think is tougher these days than when I was intensely lonely and looking for companionship is the world of on-line dating. When I was seeking a date, I played both sides of the gender coin, because I was in the unique position of being a transgender woman who favored lesbians. Looking back, I think I got the most attention from men seeking men dating sites. But just knowing that the amount of trash I would receive was at its best humorous and at its worst, a disaster because I refused to meet anyone in a public place which was not of my choosing. I was stood up more times than I would care to count or remember because my life was destined to change forever when I met my future wife Liz on a woman seeking woman dating site.

Liz responded to my picture saying I had sad eyes which was entirely possible at that time of my life. Amazingly, she lived relatively close to me in a town (Cincinnati) that I had always admired. From there, I began to become involved in her friend’s girl’s nights out and I was able to do more to learn what was behind the gender curtain than I had ever thought possible. The entire on-line dating world for me proved again you never know what you are going to get until you try.

These days again it is more problematic to find someone online with all the scammers out there, but destiny can never find you if you never venture out of your dark lonely closet and light up your path to a brighter future.

I wonder what my deceased parents would think now of what they taught me so long ago.

 

 

 

Being Hyper Focused as a Trans Girl

 

Image from Maxim Tolinisky 
on UnSplash.

As I followed my path into transgender womanhood, I found several times that I was too focused on my goal of presenting successfully as a woman when I went out and tried to join the world.

Essentially, what I mean is I was trying too hard to mimic the way ciswomen look and how they move about in the world. I had not yet had the time out in the world to develop the muscle memory I needed to be at my best with others. I so badly did not want to slip back into my old male ways and look like a linebacker in drag in high heels in the mall. In the meantime, I was spending every spare moment I had by myself to try to practice my best feminine walk.

The problem became when I was practicing too much and forgot where I was. Looking feminine in the least at work would not have been good for my macho career. I did the best I could with the time I had to work with just was not enough to create the habits I needed to progress the way I wanted to towards my transfeminine dream. Every time I went out, I would do something wrong and destroy the image of being female that I was trying to portray. If I had my makeup, clothes and hair to a point where I was satisfied, something would come along like catching one of my heels in a sidewalk crack to hurt me. I was very frustrated at the time until I finally began to relax and began to enjoy the new world I so badly wanted to be part of. As I did it though, I was totally surprised at how complex the entire scope of what I wanted to do as a potential successful trans woman would be. My life was like one of those huge “Bloomin Onions” you get at steakhouses. Every time you peel back a layer, you find another layer to surprise you.

As it turned out, at the time I was peeling back more gender layers much quicker than I had ever imagined. I was dodging all the stop signs that I thought I would have and was able to look around my world and enjoy what I saw. Most importantly, I was becoming the me I always wanted or destined to be. Again, I was being blindsided in that I would have to go through yet another transition as my life was coming full circle. I was not becoming someone different at all. I was just becoming me.

The one remaining aspect of my transgender being I did have to remain hyper focused on was when I began in depth communication with other women. I was always paranoid that I would give away too much of my old male past when I was talking with another woman. I worked so hard to be in the world as I was, I did not want to out myself as an intruder. Quickly, I made strides to learn the different way ciswomen communicate that men just don’t understand such as non-verbal cues about danger and happiness. All the way to the power of passive aggression that women use so effectively. To aid in my efforts, I even took feminine vocal lessons to learn key terminology I would need to complete my communication efforts in the world.

As I followed this new direction on my gender path, I did slide back into being hyper focused in my quest to be me. I was intently watching all my new ciswomen friends to see how they lived their lives and how I could fit in. In essence, the new me needed a new place to live and they gave it to me without ever realizing what they were doing because they took their lives behind the feminine gender curtain for granted and I never could. And still don’t to this day since I spent so long trying my best in the dark to get there. I guess I was paying my dues as I learned what my second wife meant when she called me a terrible woman. Back then I was, but I did not want to make that mistake again. So, I became hyper focused on a new goal…earning a spot behind the gender curtain.

My confusion set in because I learned early in life what it took to survive behind the male gender curtain, but I had no clue at all what it would take to survive as a trans woman. Because I knew I would never be able to have such life altering experiences such as carrying and birthing a child such as ciswomen have but on the other hand, I still had a very unique way to my womanhood which still counted. I just had to wait and earn my way back to being me. Furthermore, I did not want to completely throw away everything that I learned for fifty years living in a man’s world. I just wanted to take the building blocks I learned and use them so I would be able to be a quality transfeminine “me” person and never be told again I made a terrible woman. If I was “making” anything from scratch, I wanted it to be presentable to the world.

Once I was able to stop being hyper focused on my early experiences with makeup, hair and appearance, reality in the world set in which meant I would have a chance to live my dream of throwing out or giving away all my male clothes and starting all over again. I hope being a hyper blend of the two main gender binaries helped me along once I finally sensed the true path I wanted to be on.

The ups and downs of life on the journey I took was never easy, but worth it when I made it to the surprise location I was heading for that I never realized. All along, I was just focused on being me.

 

A Special Kind of Crazy

 

JJ Hart

In my youth and even later when I was struggling with my deep-seated gender issues, the thought entered my mind that I may just be a little crazy to think that way. I even went as far as telling others I was not the well-adjusted person they thought I was.

Looking back now, I think I was just preparing in my own way to tell others I met that I wanted to be a woman. Which I never did for decades when it became obvious to strangers I met at cross-dressing, transgender socials I went to that I wanted to be feminine, or I would not have been there.

The first time that I told anyone that I liked to wear women’s clothes was after a Halloween party I went to in the Army of all places. Weeks later, over way too much good German beer, the topic came up with friends about how realistic my “costume” was, all the way to my shaved legs. Since I was among a few very close friends, I took a big chance with risking the remainder of the time I had in the Army and told them I was a transvestite (the term used back then) and I liked to dress as a woman. I said nothing about being crazy, and I just liked to do it.

Of course, at that time in my life, I was busy running from the fact of how deep my gender issues went. I was hiding the fact from myself that no I was not crazy, I just wanted to be a transgender woman in the days when the term was first being used. “Running” for me back in those days meant changing jobs and locations frequently to keep my mind off what I was truly running from, my gender issues. Even with all the moves I was making, I could not outrun my life and occasionally the term “crazy” snuck into my thought pattern.

To compensate, I began to do “chores” which I considered feminine in nature such as doing part of the grocery shopping for my wife dressed as a ciswoman. When I succeeded with no problems, I started to feel so natural that I continually wanted to do more. So, I began to combine my grocery shopping adventures with new visits to big shopping stores to pick up small items I could afford such as a pair of panty hose, or new makeup. Amazingly, no one bothered me or shouted, “There is that crazy man in a dress.”

As the years went by, I learned that the ciswomen around me did not think I was crazy. They thought I was more curious than anything else as they wondered why I would leave the men’s club to play in their world. Ironically, as they were taking care of their curiosity, at the same time, I was learning from them. I had always envied girls (then women) so much as I followed them from afar, and now I had the chance to go back behind the gender curtain and learn first hand about the pluses and negatives of a ciswoman’s life and did I want to be a part of it or was I just following a crazy path off a cliff.

I learned quickly that I was following the right path, no matter how crazy it seemed at the time. The more I explored the world as a trans woman, I found the more exploration I needed to do but that was OK with me because again, my life for a change did not feel forced and so natural because I was not fighting to be something I was not…a man. All of a sudden, my life made sense and a was a special kind of crazy, a transfeminine person. At that point, I knew I would have to lose for good all the formidable white male privileges I had earned over the years. Even I was surprised to say “buh-bye” to all privilege I had built up.

Not all benefits I had living as a man were so easy to give up such as part of my intelligence and my personal security. I did not have many interactions with men one on one, but I learned the process of letting the man take the lead in most all situations. Especially when it came to sports, where I knew a lot about what was going on. The other privilege or benefit I needed to give up quickly was when it came to my personal security. I was not prepared for the world I was facing now in which I was fair game for any toxic man. I was fortunate to have escaped injury a couple of times when I broke the rules that ciswomen grow up with such as not finding your self in a compromising position on a dark city street all alone. I thought at the time, I was crazy to do it and never did it again.

Most recently, the craziest thing I have done is to let my precious Estradiol prescription run nearly all the way out. In fact, I am down to my last applications of patches this week as I am waiting for another refill which I have been notified is coming today. I have written in the past a couple of times about the paranoia I felt when I had a recent appointment with my endocrinologist who prescribes my HRT medications. It turned out that that all my crazy paranoia about the far reach of the orange felon in the White House rejecting any ideas of me receiving gender affirming care through the Veterans Administration would ever happen again. Instead, I received a prescription which will last me through another year until our next appointment.

Once again, it was proven that I am a special kind of crazy which I wish I had learned to embrace earlier in life. It would have made life so much richer just knowing I had the chance to experience life on both sides of the binary gender border.

 

 

 

 

 

A Trans Girls' WOW is Real

 

Image from Raamin Ka
on Unsplash.

One of the many reasons I kept moving towards my dream of living as a fulltime transfeminine person were the “WOW” experiences I was having.

Of course, I was a fan of the gender euphoria I experienced when I cross dressed in front of the mirror as myself for the first time. The downside was the buzz from the euphoria did not last that long and then I was stuck back in the life of my unwanted male self. Deep down I knew there was much more to what I was doing except putting on pantyhose, makeup and a dress. I just was not ready yet to face my truth in life.

As I got older and more experienced in being a cross-dresser, I began to separate the gender euphoria episodes with the WOW times I had on very rare occasions. I suppose the reason was that I felt the euphoria so much deeper in my soul that I was doing the right thing with my life. It was then, that I began to seek out a term which described my life to me and it just happened to co-inside with the new use of the transgender word. When I first read about it on our new computer, I thought WOW that is me and I finally made a discovery I could really use to feel like I was not alone.

This new thought pattern led me into the belief that I was no longer a man dressed as a woman when I left the house, I was a trans woman of my own experiences capped off by the TGIF Friday’s experience when I gathered the courage to go out one night and mingle with a group of ciswomen just getting off of work at a nearby mall. It turned out to be a first of a kind WOW experience as I was treated fairly and even managed to put my fear aside and stay for a second drink when I pondered the fact that my life would never be quite the same again.

As I followed up on my Friday’s experience, my emphasis began to be on increasing my visibility out of the gay venues and into the straight ones. I WOW ed myself when I was able to be accepted as fast as I was in most of the liberal places I chose to try. Such as sports bars where I could enjoy a large beer and follow my favorite teams. No longer as a man but as a transgender woman when everybody of any worth left me alone. The WOW was real when I followed my basics of never causing any problems, being friendly to the staff and tipping well. It worked for me nearly every time except when I slipped up and tried to go to a couple redneck venues just to see if I could.

I think then, my WOW’s slowed down as I needed to slow down my advance into the world of ciswomen because of negative pushbacks from my male self and my wife. Both of whom did not want to see me as a woman of any type. My male self because he did not want to lose any of the male privilege, he worked so hard to build up, and my wife because she did not want to lose her husband. Both were quality opponents and put up very big fights. At the time, my inner female simply retreated and waited for her chance to live as part of my overall dream. She had temporarily lost the battle but eventually would win the war.

In order to win the war, my feminine self-had to continue to have the courage to carve out a totally new life as a trans woman in the straight venues I mentioned. I had WOW moments when I was even able to communicate effectively with men who were not intimidated by a woman who had left the men’s club. The whole process just helped me to be a better, more rounded person. I figured if I was starting from scratch again in life, I better do my best to do it the right way.

I must have been successful, because I was able (with a little help from destiny) to start a new complete life as a transfeminine person. My biggest WOW I always mention was the small group of diverse women friends I was able to fit into. Most were lesbians but some were not and even one was transgender. The best part was that I was beginning to enjoy my new life immensely and was starting to fit right in as I build in layers of living between the new feminine me and my old male self no one ever knew. Mostly from going to artists’ and writers’ meetups in Cincinnati as a total stranger and sharing my ideas of writing a blog. It all helped me to establish myself as me and help do away with the remaining shyness I had from meeting strangers.

The only real negative I had was a chance meeting with a drunk lesbian bigot who wanted to know my “real” name. The more I attempted to ignore her, the more she would not leave me alone until my future wife Liz came back and ran her off. The whole negative experience happened years ago at a lesbian Valentine’s dance in Cincinnati, but I remember her obvious dislike for me to this day. Certainly, a negative WOW since my relationship with the lesbian community had always been so positive.

As you can tell, my WOW experiences always came from me stepping out of my male gender box and trying new things. Some successful, some not but if I did not try, I would have never known how bright my future could be. My lesson to all of you is to be careful as you follow your own gender journeys, the world is a changing place for all of us and finding our niche is becoming harder. Hopefully, you can stay the course and be successful.

 

 

 

 

 

Who You Going to Call as a Trans Girl

 

My friend Raquel 

One of my biggest problems when I decided to test the world as a new cross-dresser or transgender woman was having no one to ask about my issues. For example, why was I getting “clocked” or read every time I left the mirror and went to the mall. It turned out that the issue was just tied into how I was dressing my male contoured body by not doing my best to blend in. Ciswomen everywhere were laughing at me from my cross-dressing mistakes and ruining my all-important confidence.

As I said, I had absolutely no one to go to, to discuss the problems I was having in the world. I had no mom to try to rein me in in my trans-teen years or a peer group of girls my age for me to copy. As it was when I was mom’s phantom daughter, I ended up wearing makeup and shaving my legs before most of the girls my age were allowed to do it. Mom, for some reason, never looked for the tell-tale signs of being a curious girl from her oldest son.

Skipping ahead quite a bit, my closet was truly dark in the years before the internet when all there was, was Virginia Prince and “Transvestia” or the “Tri-Ess” social mixers I used to attend every time I could. My hope was that I could find a friend or acquaintance that I could get to know to understand our unique gender issues, but it never worked out that way and I still did not have anyone to call with my cross-dressing problems. The only thing I walked away with was I came away with being more confused than ever before. I did not know how many layers of individuals I would be able to meet at the social mixers I was able to attend. Many more levels than the publications I was reading from “Virginia” led me to believe that existed when she was calling her group as one for heterosexual men only. She probably needed to turn a blind eye and ignore all the activity going on beyond the hotel room doors where the mixers were being held. There was most likely different kinds of mixing than Virginia and the “Tri-Ess” groups would have approved of.

All sexuality aside, there was a diverse group of people who attended, all the way from men in dresses with cigars and cowboy hats trying to hide their femininity to the ultra-feminine “A” listers who were on their way to gender alignment surgeries. Neither of which did I fit in with. I was somewhere in between once again with no one to call or hang out with and exchange trans-girl talk.

It turned out, I only made one significant trans friend and that was Raquel before she moved away from our native Ohio to Dallas, Texas. Even if we were on slightly differing transition paths, we still had enough in common to get along and socialize. She was headed towards gender operations and attracting men while I was on the path of staying the same physically and hanging out with lesbian women. Opposites do attract too in the world of transgender women when we keep an open mind about who is on the right path. The whole situation with Raquel briefly gave me a person to call, and I truly appreciated it even though we have not seen each other in person for years as she is still in Dallas and I am with my wife Liz in Cincinnati.

As I bring up Liz and other ciswomen who were instrumental in bringing out my best as a transwoman, my interactions with them brought on an entirely different dynamic. It was not as if I was calling them for advice on my male to female femininization project, they were always there if I needed them. I was still embarking on an intense learning project as I crossed the gender border for the first time. So, I needed their input like how my lesbian friend Kim handled a man harassing her in a sports bar about her “Pittsburgh Steelers” leather jacket. I did not have to call her for her knowledge; it was right there for my taking. Learning is always easier if you are having fun, and I was having a blast.

We transgender women (no matter where you are on your path) begin our lives as adults on the outside looking into to the world of ciswomen we so completely want to be a part of. In my life I went full circle of having my first fiancé dress me head to toe as a woman when I took the time and effort to call her. She ended up holding it against me for the rest of the time we were together and worse yet, I was not that impressed with her makeup job anyhow. In my circle, she was actually the only ciswoman I sought out for help. The rest, I learned the art of femininity by osmosis or by just observing everything my friends were doing and thinking I could do it too.

The main big problem comes when our frail confidence is shattered when someone says we can’t succeed and major setbacks occur. Unless you are fortunate enough to have an understanding spouse or friend to help you through the rough patches, it still is hard to find someone to call. My suggestion at that point is to seek out help from a local LGBTQ group you can interact with. In person or even virtually until you can regain your confidence about your authentic transfeminine self. Where there is a will, there is a way out of the darkest gender closet.

When you do, maybe you can reach the best step ever and be able to pay forward your confidence in life to help others in need. Which is my main goal for writing this blog. I don’t want to see anyone suffering needlessly in their dark closet.

 

Success is no Accident in the Trans World

 

Image from Priscilla du Preeze
on UnSplash. 

Success is definitely no accident in the world of transgender women and transgender men. Very few of us survive our puberty by having no natural characteristics of our authentic selves that we want to be.  I know I wanted nothing to do with the size and angles my male body was willing me to have without my permission.

It was not until I became very serious about my male to female femininization project did, I take the necessary steps I needed to take to begin to ensure my future successes were no accident. The first step I took was to try to make myself smaller for I could fit into more stylish feminine clothes. Naturally, all I could do to make me smaller was to go on a diet. I was successful in a short period of time because I had a very active job and my high male metabolism was still working well. I ended up losing nearly fifty pounds quickly and had the fun job of going back to the thrift stores and searching for new clothes in my size and trying them on.

The next step I took to improve my work to become more feminine to the public was to take better care of my skin. Every day I was careful to moisturize my face after I shaved to make it easier for me to use less makeup because I knew less was more when it came to using makeup. It was a start but was all I could do without the public and my wife beginning to notice a major change in me. Even so, I was proud of the beginning steps I was taking towards my overall femininization.

It proved to me that over the long haul, none of this path I was on would be easy to navigate as I sought to cross the gender border. Also, what I did not know was how much more difficult my life would be because just looking like a ciswoman would not be the end result of the process. It would just be the beginning when I left the mirror and challenged the world as a novice cross-dresser or transgender woman. I never realized the depth and scope of the world women use to run their lives. With or without the help of men.

By accepting the challenge of femineity I was seeking, I was also challenged to move like a woman and more importantly communicate as a woman because I discovered quickly how many other women wondered what I was doing in their world. From the ease of dealing with clothing stores clerks to having conversations with women at restaurant/bars I was at, I found I was dealing with much more interaction than I ever had as a man. My new success was no accident, but I needed to work hard to keep it and always stay aware of my new surroundings. One slip up and the setback could be tremendous and discouraging to my dream goal of being able to live full-time as a transfeminine person.

Many times, my frustration grew over the decades that I struggled with my gender issues. Was I going too fast by going out into the world, or not enough to keep learning what I needed to know to progress along my gender path which kept showing me infuriating stop signs along the way. Particularly from my male self who was becoming very successful in his business world. He was making it difficult to choose between his growing male privileges and living the life I had always dreamed of. Ironically, it was lessons he learned at work which were carried over to my female life that proved that success was no accident. If I wanted my goal bad enough, I could achieve it.

As I progressed with carving out my new feminine life as a trans woman, I found that my successes were painting me into corners which were difficult to get out of. I had nights when butch lesbians were flirting with me and buying me drinks until I ran out of time and had to be back home before my wife was take my makeup off then calmly try to wind down by watching television. I was on the gender rollercoaster going from one high to another and eventually it was too much to take.

Before I broke for the final time and had to make a decision between staying with my wife as a man and deciding to live my life as a woman, she took my decision away and suddenly passed away. Leaving me all alone with my other woman who happened to be me. It took a while for the shock to wear off, but when it did, my internal female took right over and claimed her territory in my life. She thought success was no accident and she had claimed hers by paying for those dues all those decades when she was hidden for the most part. In the light of day, she flourished and never looked back. Especially when HRT or gender affirming hormones were introduced into her old male system.

The ultimate measure of success is coming around and transitioning ourselves from transgender into just being ourselves. Many of us have to go through extensive gender realignment surgeries to do it, and some not but that is OK. Whatever makes you whole as a person is the final key to the lock or piece to the puzzle. I am sure that whatever the case, everyone who succeeded in finding themselves would agree that success was no accident. They had to work hard to achieve it.

If you are on your path, just keep up the hard work you are doing, and you can find success also. Pursuing such a complex journey will never be easy but as the saying goes, if it was easy, would it be worth it.

Thanks to all of you who read along with my posts! All your thoughts, comments, claps and subscriptions are always welcomed.

 

 

 

 

Mother's Day and the Battle for Gender Supremacy

 

Image from Daiga Elaby
on UnSplash.

Before I get started on today’s post, I would like to mention Mother’s Day, and all it means to me. First of all, it gives me the chance to remember all the problems my mom went through to have me. Such as, going through three still born babies before my parents kept trying and had me. Without their determination, I would not be here today. Which is the main reason why I adopted my mom’s first name as my legal name when I changed it years ago.

Plus, even though my mom and I were much alike and fought quite a bit through my youth, I managed to use her as a roll model as I slowly grew into the daughter, she never accepted having. I view her now as a one of kind woman who presented herself to me as an unknowing roll model. Happy Mother’s Day to all of you reading today who may be ciswomen and birthed your own children! We all know how important you are to the world. If your mom is still around, do your best to try to bridge the gender gap. Although I was never able to do it with mine before she passed away years ago.

Now, on to the post for today which has to do with my remaining male gender and how he got in the way of my transfeminine progress in life. I already mentioned the fights I had with my mom as she taught me to fight like she did. Bring anything you could think of to make sure you have at least a decent chance of winning the battle you were in. I think she indirectly taught me valuable lessons about fighting as a girl because I had to resort to being mental and not physical with my fighting.

As it turned out, just the aspect of having fights with other males never materialized much with me as I was growing up. I tried to hide behind liking sports and cars to hide my true love of fashion and makeup to keep the bullies away and for the most part it worked. It also worked when I failed at trying something such as sports, getting beat, and having the chance to run home and soothe my feelings behind one of my favorite dresses and makeup.

This plan was all well and good when I was just dealing with just minor athletic events and became much more serious when it came to activities such as work and life in general. I quickly learned that if I was to be successful, I could not just take my feelings home and cross-dress, I needed to stay there and fight. I needed to push hard to keep my transgender issues at bay and take care of myself. Even though in the background, my feminine self was always waiting to get out and thrive in the world. Sort of like that app on your computer which is always running in the background. Because every situation I faced, I secretly wondered how I would face it as a trans woman. At that point, I needed to face the real possibility that I would just have to experiment with new situations in life from the view that ciswomen do.

That was when I got out of the gay venues I was going to and back into the straight venues I had grown used to going to as a man. Of course, I found the entire process to be extremely terrifying yet natural as I settled down into my new world. A world where I did not have to worry about what my feminine instincts were telling me as I was actively acting upon them. I was free and gender for once was not getting in my way. All I had to worry about was my fear of discovery disrupting my new life.

To my surprise, most of the world around me did not seem to care there was a novice trans woman around them. No one screamed “Hey! That’s a man” when I entered the room and at the worse all I received in response was a few stares. Mostly from women. When I did, I always made sure to stand up straight and try to make eye contact if a could as if to say what is wrong with you? There is nothing wrong with me. As we all know, humans are like sharks in the water who are attracted to blood. When I showed the hard-earned confidence, I gained to project my authentic feminine self, the sharks left me alone. I can’t emphasize enough though the bumps and bruises I took to my ego to find the much-needed confidence to get by.

I did get by and stopped most all my gender battles which helped me to end all the self-destructive behavior I had carried around with me for decades. It certainly took a while for all the emotional scarring to go away and for me to clean up my act. As I always say, it was like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders when I finally gave in to the transfeminine person I always was meant to be. And I was allowed to continue to fill out my gender workbook as I was socialized in the world of ciswomen by the small group of women friends, I had built around me. I was able to learn a little or a lot from all of them except for one. Which was my biggest issue…

In other words, the biggest boulder on my path to move was getting my male gender out of the way. He was stubborn and hung on to his male privileges as long as he could. All to no avail. I finally had to give up on trying to use all my old male strength to help me and resorted to a more feminine approach of slowly chipping away at portions of the rock. Success led to more success and before I knew it, I had a new exciting path to my future open for me ahead. It was bright, exciting and I never wanted to even think about going back.

 

 

 

 

Life is Too Short to be Ordinary.

 

Image from Frolicsome Fairy
on UnSplash.

I saw this quote on a television show I watch regularly and it resonated as a transgender woman with me. Here is the quote: “Life is too short to be ordinary.”  I immediately thought that a trans woman’s or trans man’s life is anything but ordinary in the world we live in today.

I also thought of a few of the final battles I had with myself before I finally gave in to my feminine desires at the age of sixty and decided to try to enter the transfeminine world permanently. It was never a move I took lightly, which was probably one of the reasons it took me so long to make my final choice to join the girls’ club and leave the good old boys’ club behind.

What I attempted to do was weigh all the good and bad I had accomplished in my long life and use it to make my decision. To be fair, I did have many male experiences which I felt I needed to take into consideration as positives I would have to leave behind if I proceeded with my male to female feminization efforts. The end result was I found that I did not live an ordinary life for several reasons, and one of them was because I spent so much time on the gender path I obsessed about. The others involved just the ordinary life’s challenges that everyone goes through such as maintaining a family, a marriage and trying to be successful in a profession you can tolerate. I kept coming back to my gender issues which set me apart from the great majority of the world, in a good way.

Along the way, I had come to appreciate the difference between the two main binary genders by actually having the chance to live them. It occurred to me that I was having a chance very few humans have the chance to do and I should make the best of it and keep going. At the time, I was spending approximately half of my time in the world as a transgender woman anyhow, so the jump to going fulltime was becoming less and less intimidating to me.

One of the main final factors I needed to consider was how natural I felt living in each gender I was trying to maintain. After hours of thought and contemplation, I came to the realization I had never felt natural as a man. I had to struggle to make any long-lasting friends and it seemed all my accomplishments were for my public persona only. As I always say, I was never a man cross-dressing as a woman. I was a woman cross dressing as a man. From that, I realized I had always felt more comfortable as a feminine person and time was running short for me to grasp the opportunity to change for good. I was sixty at the time and it did not take a genius to realize I had lived more years than I still had to go on this earth.

Finally, it struck my stubborn head that I had been blessed to live everything but an ordinary life and I should follow my natural inclination to stay in a feminine mode. When I did, it was as if I was allowed to take a ton of rocks from my shoulders. As I assumed the life I always should have lived, I began the finishing touches of my new existence by being approved for HRT or gender affirming hormones by a doctor I read about in a local LGBTQ newspaper I saw. My body’s reaction was simple and to the point and I could hear it saying what took you so long as the changes from the hormones were so natural and immediate. In fact, the changes came so fast that I needed to move up my timeline for when I would transition completely away from my old male self.

It does not seem possible that all those gender changes were over fifteen years ago now and my world changed as positively as I ever hoped that it would. The path I took was completely personal and had its share of stop signs and blind curves but somehow, I made it. Probably because my inner self felt it was the only way to go. If working from a male background to being a transfeminine person was the way my path took me, I would gladly go along for the ride. The ride turned out to be uniquely interesting along with being extremely scary when I gave up and lost all my male privilege before I learned the essence of having female privileges.

I was fortunate that I was blessed with a healthy long life. Long enough to see the circle come around from gender darkness to light. So, you could say, my life was long enough to make it interesting and look around all those steep walls and blind curves to see what was on the other side waiting for me.

If the world would let it be, gender is just a human need on a spectrum like so many others and trans people are just trying to live their lives like so many others. And I know gender is much more than a black and white reality to all of us. You can view yourself anywhere from a weekend cross-dresser all the way to a post-op woman and all should be accepted under our complex umbrella of people. It’s just another way we are far from ordinary and difficult for the average person to understand. It is also difficult to explain to a loved one when we do not fully understand what is going on ourselves, which often takes a long time to happen.

Rest assured that even if your life may be different and/or difficult at times, I will be far from ordinary.

Thank you all for your comments, claps and new subscriptions! Without all of you, none of what I try to pass along would be worth it.