Coming Home

 

JJ Hart (Center) Wife Liz on Left, 
Daughter on Right. 

The process of crossing the gender border from male to female, always felt as if I was coming home.

From the beginning, my dual genders clashed, causing me to often sacrifice my already fragile mental illness when I was diagnosed as being bi-polar. Naturally, it was difficult to separate one issue from another when I became depressed and just wanted to curl up in a ball and left alone. On most occasions, I could just cross dress in front of the mirror and take my mind temporarily off my trip to find my true home.

The trip proved to be much longer than I ever thought it would. I never considered it would take me on a fifty-year odyssey. Complete with too many blind curves and dead ends to mention. If I was to attempt to mention any of the major problems I had with my transition was there would be so many more transitions than one. The gender border crossing was so complex, it would take me several different ways at once. I finally came to the point where I was simply trying to raise the bar of living as a transgender woman every time I went out in public. In my earliest days, it meant concentrating on more than just my feminized appearance. I needed to put my appearance, no matter how good or bad, into motion. What good would it be to look like an attractive woman if I was moving like a linebacker.

Every time I made a move forward in my transition, I could imagine myself living my gender dream. Which in most cases scared me more than anything else. What would my life be like without all the male privilege I worked so hard to earn. Perhaps the only stable idea I learned was I was much more than the casual cross dresser who just wanted to put on a dress for certain occasions. As suspected from my earliest days of admiring myself in the mirror as a girl. I wanted to do much more such as be a girl or at the least find out if the public would accept me as one.

I put many hours of work into my femininized presentation. I tried and tried to get my makeup right, even to the point of losing nearly fifty pounds on a diet I undertook. When I lost weight, I was able to fit into my stylish clothes, so it was a huge win for me. Along with the intense skin care routine I followed. Suddenly, I discovered I could use less make up and prove less was more. All these moves proved coming home indeed may be reality if I kept working hard enough. For the first time in my life, I made a concerted effort to achieve a very real goal. My transgender womanhood.

As I said, coming home involved several other minor and major transitions. I began to do so called womanly duties such as grocery shopping into my days when I could. I also added gift shopping at Christmas (and other times) to my time as a woman. Through it all, I was learning how the world would possibly accept me when I was able to make it home. All these actions showed me the feasibility of proceeding with my gender plans, though many questions remained unanswered.  Such as, what would I do about the basics of my life such as what to do about my wife, extended family, friends and having a basic income to live on.

It was around this time when destiny set in to provide me with major answers in my life. Tragically my second wife passed away, at the age of fifty, along with most all of my very few male friends. As far as family was concerned, my daughter stepped up to be my most steadfast ally, until my third wife Liz stepped into my life. Finally, I learned if I waited a relatively short period of time, I could take an early retirement on Social Security and solve my financial issues. The only loss I sustained was with my brother and his extended family who roundly rejected me. So much for close family ties.

When I made it to my true home, it was like day and night. It was as if a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. My mental health improved with the help of therapy, and I was better able to face my life on a more equal basis than I ever had before. Surprisingly, I had very little re-arranging to do to live in my new house. It seemed my inner female self-had been not so patiently waiting for her chance to take over my life. Once she earned her spot in the public eye, she knew exactly what to do to survive.

 

 

Finding Your Comfort Zone

 

Image from UnSplash.

Being a transgender woman, trans man or cross dresser means you need to find your own level of comfort as you transition.

For all sorts of reasons, some of us decide to go all the way from gender realignment surgeries to deciding to stay in their gender closets. It is a difficult decision to face the possibility of losing everything in the life you have worked so hard so succeed at over the years. 

In my case, comfort levels came sparingly to begin with, then increased in frequency as time went along. For example, I had an exceedingly difficult time becoming situated as a novice transgender woman in the world. Possibly, most of my problem came from my own refusal to face up to who I truthfully was a person. My gender situation led me to a very bad situation where I was stuck between the two binary genders, male and female. Of course, I still needed to maintain my male world in the job I worked, but on the other hand, I was spending every spare moment I had trying to reach my comfort level as a trans woman. The end result was, because I was denying my true self (female), I was wrecking my already fragile mental health. 

Fortunately, I was able to work my way through my messy mental problems and come out rather unscathed with the help of a good therapist. Together, we were able to separate my bi-polar depression issues from my transgender issues which dominated my life. And I mean total domination. I was very into advancing my life in a feminine world and attempting to figure out how and when I should let go of my old male self. Finding my comfort zone finally began to come in stages.

What I did was set up what I thought was a mini bucket list of things I wanted to do as a woman. Or at least try to. As with anything else in life, I sailed through a few of the items on my list and hit a brick wall on others. Overall, I was able to use the confidence I gained from my successful feminine ventures and go back to the drawing board and figure out what I was doing wrong on the others. For example, one of the best things I did was stop going to the gay venues where I was only perceived as a drag queen and began going to the sports venues I was comfortable in. When I did, I was encouraged to begin to build a whole new person as I quickly began to establish myself as a regular. Since my business background was in similar venues, I knew the basics of establishing yourself as a regular. Show up often, try not to be a distraction, smile often and tip well were the basics. Since I already stood out from the crowd as a transgender woman, the rest was easy. 

Through it all, the comfort zone I needed the most was access to the woman's room, for obvious reasons since beer was my drink of choice. I was overjoyed when rest room access was granted to me when I became a regular. I even was invited to join other women when they made the short trip to the bathroom. I was very sure I had arrived. 

It is easy to equate being in a gender comfort zone with acquiring all important confidence to get by in a new world. Life was amazing when I was a woman and hell when I was not, so finally, even I could tell a change was needed. No matter how complete the separation would be.

My needs had changed from my old male days and to not face them head on would be a return to the same old gender problems I had faced my entire life. For once in my life, I decided to do the right thing, and I found my comfort zone. My male self-gave up and freed me up to build my transgender womanhood. 

All I Saw were Walls

Image from Cristina Hernandez 
on UnSplash.

 I saw walls everywhere as I needed to build my own gender closet to protect me.

When I discovered I needed walls to protect my gender secret from the world when I was quite young, I managed to build strong ones. Difficult for anyone to penetrate because I felt something was basically wrong with me and if I was discovered, I knew a psychiatric visit was in my future. Back in the late 1950's and early to mid 1960's, any form of cross dressing was still considered a mental illness, and I knew well enough I was not mentally ill from wanting to try on dresses and makeup. None of that served any positive purpose, and I was driven deeper into my closet of walls. 

Soon enough, I began to escape my walls and began to explore the world as a cross dresser, long before I made my second major transition into a transgender woman. In the beginning, and for years afterwards, I grew frustrated on my progress and began to take more and more chances when I left the house as a woman. It was almost as if I was trying my best to get caught. So, everyone could see in my closet of walls and discover what was really going on with me. One way or another, discovery could lead me to a release of the gender torment I suffered from, and I could go on to live the life I had always dreamed of.

What I discovered was, dreams and reality were two different things. Or could I ever hope to go out and mix in well enough with the world of everyday cisgender women and survive. I was quite naive for years and thought I could be accepted as my form of an everyday woman by simply looking the part. Which led me to many memorable experiences in the girl's sandbox. Many of which I barely survived because I had allowed the wrong woman access to my closet. I had wrongly thought some women would allow me behind the gender curtain without a struggle and I needed to escape the sandbox with new claw marks up and down my back. Over time, my wounds healed, and I became a seasoned veteran of survival in a world ruled by women. 

As I did, my walls became the path of transition to transgender womanhood I was taking. I needed to plan far past just a day at a time presenting as a woman the best I could. How was I going to approach the time which was rapidly approaching when all of my life would be consumed by living my dream, and how did I stop it from becoming a nightmare? To make matters worse, I kept running headfirst into walls set up by my old male self. He never wanted to let go of his world and I needed to be careful I did not slip back into it when I was not paying attention to the way I walked or communicated in the world as a transgender woman. I was capable of ruining my whole day by forgetting to smile at the world, doing my best to talk like a woman, or move like a linebacker in drag. It took me years for muscle memory took over from my feminine side and I began to climb the walls I needed to be successful in the new gender world I was in. 

The best part was, I was seeing fewer and fewer walls. I had passed most of the challenges I had set up for myself. When I did, I became much happier and knew if I tried to stop the train I was on, I would go back to the miserable life I was trying to live between two genders. There was no way I was going to do that because of all the time and effort I put into releasing myself from all the walls I had built.

Building Gender Bridges

 

Image from Alexander Rotker 
on UnSplash.

I have always been one to build too many bridges to jump off of in my life. 

In fact, if I don't have anything to worry about, I will create something. Looking back, I was especially bad at building huge, tall bridges when I was at the height of my trip to transgender womanhood. I felt I was partially justified in doing so because of all the problems I experienced when I was coming out of my gender closet. 

Before I began my trip, I was a fairly freewheeling person. If something happened for me to take care of, I would and at the same time, not spend much time worrying about my future. Even though I still faced major problems in my life, I could still conquer them, or escape back behind my skirts, heels and hose to hide. As I progressed in my life, I found my time was running out as a parttime cross dresser. Either I needed to do more or purge myself altogether of a pastime which had kept me from jumping off so many bridges I had built. 

Another problem I discovered was when I began to be more skilled at building my gender bridges was becoming, I was increasingly under more pressure to be successful. The more success I felt as a transgender woman, the easier my life became except for the very serious bridges I faced such as communication with the world. 

The best time I have for building my bridges is late at night when I am trying to sleep. These days, I have plenty of things to worry about. In fact, next week, my wife Liz and I will be heading north to my daughters, mother in laws lunch. During that time, I hope to find out what has happened to my transgender grandchild job offer as a civilian nuclear engineer with the Navy in Maine. Hopefully they have been able to stay under the radar so far and has maintained the job which they wanted to start this fall. (They is their preferred pronoun.)

Going to see the family is always very affirming as I have been accepted for years as my authentic feminine self. Early on it was very difficult for me to adjust to because nearly everyone in the room had known me for years as my old male self. Others including my first wife, who is the mother of my only child usually always attends, and she has a difficult time sometimes not referring to me with the proper pronouns when recounting a few of the long-ago days when I was trying to live as a macho man. Plus, we also met each other while we both served in the Army in Germany. With all the extra baggage I carry when it comes to her, I think she has done a good job of building a new bridge to me over the years.

Now, at my advanced age of seventy-five, I find myself looking ahead at the biggest bridge of all. When it is time to enter a new reality when I pass on. I have decided to do the best I can with all the aches and pains I have and keep a positive attitude. Of course, there are other major bridges to think about also when and if I need to enter assisted living, which I am not looking forward to. Liz and I were supposed to attend a special seminar put on by an attorney specializing in "elder law", but Liz got sick, and we did not go. So sometime in my future, I need to insist we find an attorney to give us a consultation. 

In life, it seems, there are always bridges to build. It is just a special problem unique to gender conflicted transgender women and trans men. Overtime, we can become very good builders and even better at hiding our results. Fortunately, there are more and more trained therapists to help us these days. Ironically, some of us have to go through several therapists until we can find the proper fit. So, we can find someone who can build a solid bridge, rather than tear it all down. Which, if you are like me, you tried to do many times during various purges. 

A Private Journey

Virginia Prince

Being a young person with gender issues forced me into my own deep shell.

 Plus, the times I grew up in did not help. I battled having no real gender information in the times before the internet and social media. In fact, the first real indication I had there were any others who shared a similar desire to change their gender was when I discovered "Transvestia" Magazine and "Virginia Prince". Initially, I was so fascinated, I just needed to learn more.

My private journey became less private when I began to attend transvestite mixers, as they were called back then. From my well-worn pages of "Transvestia" I learned several of the mixers were within driving distance of me in my native Ohio. Immediately, I began to make plans to do the impossible dream and attend. I could not imagine what it would be like to meet in person, another cross dresser as I perceived myself to be. It all struck an emotional chord with me, and I could not wait for my first mixer. I felt, at the least, the event could help to get out of my shell and not be so private. 

Of course, I found out I was expecting way to much from my first meeting with others with gender issues. To start with, I was not prepared for the layers of participants at the mixer. Everyone from beautiful transsexuals to "cowboy" cross dressers with their hats and cigars. Somewhere, in between was me. Wondering where I should be in the group. All Virginia Prince and "Transvestia" told me was, I needed to be heterosexual in order to fit in. Prince never said anything about all the different individuals I would encounter. Long story short, I found I did not really fit in with any of the other attendees. Again, I was stuck in my own private journey.

Throughout my disappointment in not meeting more like-minded individuals to share my gender hopes and dreams with, I at least found a very few others I could socialize with. Better yet, they lived even closer to me in near-by Columbus, Ohio. One of the transsexual women had a very nice, restored home in a historic area of the city and regularly hosted her own mini mixers. Since I usually worked weekend nights, I could not make it to all of them, but the ones I could, I enjoyed immensely. 

On my visits, I even discovered others who were exploring their new gender lives as more than cross dressers since the new transgender terminology was still being explored. At the time, I knew I was not completely into, going through all the gender changing operations, but then again, if I could do it, I would love to pursue a trip into transgender womanhood.

Maybe I kept my journey private because I was just that type of person, or I just had never met many people I trusted with my deepest secrets. To this day, I think I can count on one hand, the people who know all about me. Even including my long-time therapist. My wife Liz used to harass me by asking me what we talked about, and I had a difficult time coming up with an answer. Even so, I am a believer in therapy, as it did help me to come up with coping mechanisms for my complicated gender life. 

As I look back, I have come a long way from the pages of "Transvestia" but not far enough to totally say I have ever left my private journey which was so completely embedded in me when I was younger.

Creating Gender Tension

Image from Tim Mossholder 
on UnSplash.

 
I am aware of the natural tension which goes on between the binary genders of male and female. 

I am also aware of the added tension which goes on when a transgender woman or trans man tries to cross the gender frontier to live on the other side. For me, at least, the tension became ridiculous and ruined my mental health which was already fragile. Before I was diagnosed with gender dysphoria, I was diagnosed with being bi-polar also. At the time, the diagnosis seemed to be a double-edged sword because I was wondering why I suffered from deep mood swings and blamed the swings on my gender issues. When I found I had deeper mental health issues, in many ways, it was a relief they were not tied in with my cross dressing. On the other hand, ideally, I could treat being bi-polar with medications and move on with my life.

My worry was any future therapy I might seek out, would involve the therapist attempting to tie my mental health in with my need to be a woman. Even though it was true, my gender needs did conflict with my mental health and cause tension, they were both separate entities and needed to be dealt with separately. I was fortunate in that I had two long term therapists who agreed with me, and I was treated as such.

However, my gender tension never went away, and, in many ways, I just learned to live with it. What I did was, resort to what I did when I was younger and try to cross dress my way through my transgender life. Predictably, when I was cross dressing, life was good and when I was not cross dressing, it was not. I was mean and tried to take it out on the world around me. I became so mean on occasion; I lost a job because of it. What no one understood was, I was being tougher on myself than anyone else. In typical male fashion, I was internalizing my feelings until they exploded. I even used therapy as a crutch with my second wife who had to put up with me. The best way for me to explain it is, I would never quite tell my wife what my therapist said. The prime example I can give you is, very early in my sessions with a certified gender therapist, she told me there was nothing to do concerning me wanting to be a woman. Sooner or later, I was to just have to follow my instincts.

There was no way, I could tell my wife that when I was supposed to be undergoing therapy to save our marriage. So, I ignored what the therapist told me and predictably, the gender tension continued and even became worse. I did my best to tread water and try to live a life divided between being a man part of the week and a trans woman when I could the remainder of the week. It nearly killed me as I tried my best to maintain an impossible life. My best was not good enough and I attempted an ill-fated suicide. When I woke up the next morning after taking all the pills I had and chasing them with alcohol, self-preservation kicked in and once again I made the wrong decision and resolved to purge most of my feminine fashion and make up, then go back to my male life. 

We all know the majority of gender purges don't work. Certainly, it did not work for me, even when I grew a beard to satisfy my second wife that I was not doing anything related to cross dressing at all. Once again, my gender tension rose to a very ugly level, and I was very unhappy. Little did I know, my life was due to change in a very tragic and dramatic way when in approximately six months, my wife passed away from a sudden heart attack. 

The life changing experience led me back to my feminine self and I never looked back. When I did, the gender tension I was suffering from disappeared and I felt free.  

Nobody Understood

 

Virginia Prince

What really hurt me when I first realized I had gender issues was when I had no one to share them with. I was all alone with my problems, or so I thought.

I lived in fear of discovery all the time from my parents or my slightly younger brother. Even then, I knew discovery meant an unpleasant trip to a psychiatrist. The closest friend to me who may have shared a few of the same feelings, ended up moving away. With him, both of us were allowed to experiment wearing his mom's old clothes and putting on her makeup. It was the closest I would ever come to having anyone to share my true life with. Ironically, we never talked about the cross dressing we were doing. We just did it. 

As I said, my friend and his family ended up moving far away and years later, I often wondered if he had any gender issues too which stayed with him. Plus, as I always point out, I spent my youth and the years leading up to college in the information "dark ages", or the time before the internet became so popular along with social media. All I had was my cherished copies of Virginia Prince's "Transvestia" publication to get me by. At the least, "Transvestia" showed me there was a community of others with the same gender leanings I had. Also, in my well-worn issues I saw meetings or mixers within driving distance of me which I could go to. I was excited when I learned I could actually meet other self-proclaimed transvestites in person. The problem was, once I learned I could meet them, was I brave enough to do it. 

You all know, I was brave enough to meet them but then I encountered another problem. No one at the mixers still seemed to understand me. I was too much of a woman for the cross dressers and not enough of one for the transexuals. This was back before the transgender term and meaning was even used and popularized, so once again, I was stuck with no one to understand me.

Finally, the world began to catch up with me and I understood where I was when it came to the cross dresser - transgender community. Even better, with the help of the internet and social media, I began to stay in touch with others with similar views. Suddenly, in many ways, everybody had some sort of an understanding about how I felt. It may have taken me a lifetime to do it, but I made it into the only community who knew what I went through.  

Maybe the problem with the world as we know it these days has been influenced by people who have never met a transgender woman or trans man at all. To understand a trans person, it certainly helps to have followed a similar path. Even briefly. 

In recent years, I went from no one to understand me to having a whole group of people who have not taken the time to even accept me on a basic human level. It seems, I have gone full circle to arrive nowhere. 

No Struggle no Progress

 

Image from UnSplash.

Basically, when it comes to doing anything really important in life, to progress you need to struggle.

As far as being transgender, often it seems our struggles are impacted. First of all, most of us are not blessed with any natural feminine characteristics to work with. At least, I did not think I had any except perhaps my legs which often ruined my fashion sense when I tried to focus on my legs and not try to cover up my wide torso and broad shoulders. I struggled with my overall image until I got it right and I began to blend in with the public at large. 

Far more important to me was the mental struggle which went along with my journey to transgender womanhood. For the longest time, it seemed as if every step forward I achieved in the world as a novice transgender woman was met by taking three steps back. Or when I thought I had conquered the world of high heels, I would catch my heel in a sidewalk crack and break it. Who knew you had to put so much work into being a girl and it was only the beginning. 

Along the way, my life became a battle between two genders and for the most part, the battle destroyed me. Especially, my already frail mental health since I was already diagnosed as being Bi-Polar, I did not need any other problems I never asked for. Regardless, life moved on as I tried to roll with the punches. I was cross dressing as much as I could while at the same time, I was trying to live a life as a successful man. I managed to stay married to the same woman for twenty -five years while at the same time making good progression in my employment career. Sadly, I was stubborn, and struggle was all I knew as I lived my life. If I would have ever relaxed and looked around, I would have seen much of my progress came from just running from my problems and not facing them. My wife said it best one day when we were locked in yet another brutal argument. She said, why did not I be man enough to be a woman. The logical answer to the question was, I simply was not ready and still had a lot to learn before I jumped the male gender ship and began to live as a transgender woman. 

Very soon, my struggles reached a critical tipping point where progress was becoming the norm. I was reaching the point where I could be man enough to be a woman out of sheer determination. Sadly, by this point, my wife had passed away, so she never had a chance to meet the woman I had become. Again, I needed to struggle through a new reality of being alone after all of those years. It did not take me long to turn to my feminine self for help. In fact, the last date I had set up with another woman as a man was to an outdoor concert. At the last minute, the woman backed out, so I did the next best thing and took myself. My feminine self-had a great time and I never tried to go out with a woman as a man again.

As I began to see and reach my potential as a transgender woman, my mental health improved as well as my life as a whole. When it did, my struggles went with it.

Gender Harmony

 

My friend Racquel and her dog.

When asked when I first realized I had issues with my gender I began to tell the truth and say I had known forever.

In fact, my statements were only partially true. I knew something was wrong with me, but I did not know exactly what. When I was young, I knew how much pleasure I received when I dressed as a girl. What I was lacking was the knowledge of how much harmony I was missing by learning the aspects of living in two genders.

Over a long space in time of nearly fifty years, my male and female selves battled it out, which naturally created huge disruptions in my life. My already frail mental health was in shambles most of the time. Since I had already been diagnosed as being bi-polar by a therapist before, my gender issues seemed to be a bigger problem. In reality, both issues were working together to make my life miserable before I took action and did something about it.

I started with the easier one, my bi-polar condition. After I tried several medications, I found the right ones which I am still taking to this day. The much more difficult of the two issues destroying my inner harmony was my issue with my gender. Had I listened to my first therapist years ago when she told me there was nothing, she could do with me wanting to be a woman, I would have been better off. Maybe I would have been able to relax more with my issues and realize my transition into transgender womanhood was going to be a scary yet exciting journey I should try to relax and enjoy. Rather than fight and destroy my mental health as I did it. Plus, what made matters worse was all the people around me I attempted to make miserable too. Leading my second wife to even consider telling me to be man enough to be a woman. The problem was, back in those days, I did not have the feminine experience yet to do it. So, my miserable life continued.  Any sort of gender harmony seemed to me an impossibility.

During that time, I really set out to seriously discover what measures I would have to take to restore any sort of harmony to my life. Which essentially saved my life after a failed suicide attempt. I found I had to discover harmony or face losing my life totally. 

Initially, I was obsessing on my feminine appearance over any other aspects of being a transgender woman until my trans friend Racquel told me I passed out of sheer will power. Deep down, I knew what she was talking about. I was not and never would be the most attractive woman in the room, unless I could afford the expensive facial femininization surgery. Which I couldn't. It did not matter anyhow, since I had already decided to move forward in the world with the best possible appearance I could put together. 

Long story short, I found my path to a new life and am very fortunate to live as a full-time transgender woman. Racquel went on to several appearance altering surgeries and moved away so I have not seen her for years. I owe her for the honesty she expressed to me concerning my coming out experience. As my wife said too, there was so much more to a woman than just looking like one. Finding harmony with myself, enabled me to find harmony with others. I made friends in my new life and moved on.

NOT for Entertainment Only

 

Image from Alice Alinari
on UnSplash

As I went along my path to transgender womanhood, I found the journey was never a choice and was not for entertainment only.

My journey did not begin that way. Similar to many of you, I started by exploring my mom's underwear drawer and wearing what would fit. All of that was seemingly innocent enough unless I was caught. Then there would undoubtedly be hell to pay, along with a trip to a psychiatrist. Later I would wonder if my mom ever knew because her underwear was stretched out, but she never approached me at all. 

It was all fun and games until it wasn't. Slowly, I learned wearing girls/women's clothes was not for entertainment only. I was becoming increasingly serious about it. For the first time in my life, I was obsessing over how I looked. How was my makeup and very limited access to a wardrobe appearing in the mirror. I even went as far as shaving my legs when I thought I could get away with it. In addition, I did my best to study the other girls around me. I did not know it then, but I probably was wearing makeup before a few of the girls I knew were allowed to do it. At the time when I could not seem to muster the same passion for building the model cars I had and painting them well, makeup was an entirely different challenge and one I could not resist doing my absolute best at doing well. With no help whatsoever. 

I found, for the first time in my life, I was completely serious about doing one thing and it was being a girl. Not just looking like one. It took me years to learn just gazing at my reflection cross dressed as a feminine person was just not enough. I needed more. My problem was early on was having the budget to do anything such as being able to afford having a nice wig. It was not until my college days until I could buy a long blond wig I cherished for years. Spending all the money on one specific fashion accessory proved my passion to look good was not for entertainment only. I was really serious.

Of course, then I really started to step up my gender game. When I was released from my military service, I began to seriously explore the world as the feminine trans woman I was destined to become. As I write about often, my journey was filled with ups and downs and my mental health suffered. Definitely not the way I thought it would be when I looked at myself dressed as a girl in the mirror early in my life. What I never had a chance to consider was I was not a transvestite or cross dresser at all. In fact, I was a transgender woman and needed to accept it. I was never in it for the entertainment and my life depended on a successful outcome. 

What I mean is, I needed to stop all the self-destructive behavior I was exhibiting as I sought to destroy everything successful, I had ever done. Along the way, I had tried to lose jobs, drink too much all the way to trying to kill myself with pills. Never realizing how much I had to live for if only I followed my transgender path far enough. 

I wonder now, if I had realized how difficult my journey would be and not be entertaining would I have ever undertaken it at all. I also realize now, I never had a choice, and my life would have been better had I realized it sooner. I would love to get back just a tiny portion of the stress and tension I lost during my life as I worried about my gender. Outside of a few therapists who tried to help me by telling me the truth about myself, I was on my own. My life was never for entertainment only as I followed a gender path full of turns and dead ends before I discovered my truth in my transgender womanhood. 

Breaking the Gender Chains

 

Image from Arlem Lambunsky
on UnSplash.

For years and years I blamed myself for my transgender issues. 

I did not have access to the proper information to know otherwise. I thought somehow I was addicted to seeing myself in the mirror as a femininized person. The chains of being a male person weighed heavily on me. It was not until much later in life that I had the chance to learn I was completely wrong and I had never really had the choice to attempt to break all the chains which were restricting my life. All of this occurred in the pre-internet years and it was not until I bought my first computer did I finally began to see there were others just like me who struggled the same way in life.

At approximately the same time, I began to meet more and more diverse individuals in the new LGBTQ community. Primarily, I learned the difference between cross dressers and transgender women and men. Those involved in pursuing a life in transgender womanhood were much more serious than the average cross dresser who was actively embracing how they appeared as a woman. I was able to meet several impossibly feminine transgender women who embraced being a woman, not just looking like one. At the time I was intimidated and wondered if I could ever make the jump myself. Plus, I knew before I attempted such a radical move, I had quite a bit of work to do on myself.

I became the mistress of excuses of why I could not break my gender chains and move forward into the great unknown. What would I do about the remnants of my male life and what if anything would I do about my sexuality among with other important parts of my life. One thing I knew for certain was my desire to live as a fulltime transgender woman was more than an addiction because the process felt so natural and affirming. The entire process was stressful and damaging to my mental health because I was firmly stuck between the two main binary genders.  I would have not wished the stress I was feeling on my biggest enemy and the worst part of it all was  how I needed to internalize my feelings to the world. 

Life was so black and white at the time. Half of the time I was in the darkness of being chained to the wall of my old male life as I daydreamed of the lighter times when I could explore again and again the times I had as a woman. 

Through new woman friends and a good therapist, I was able to break out of my old gender chains and live my dream. Proving time and time again I was living the life I was meant to live. In no way did I have any lasting attraction to just wearing woman's clothes. The clothes were just a larger indication of how I wanted to live my life and were an external view to the world  which enabled me to open gender doors which were previously closed to me. 

I could not believe after the chains were broken and the new doors were opened, how much brighter my world became. Somedays I wonder if the wait was worth it. 

Turning Your Gender Corner

 

Image from the JJ Hart Archives.

As I made my way towards coming out of my closet and living as a transgender woman, I found I had many corners to navigate.

At first the corners were easy to take on but then became progressively more difficult as I moved closer to my impossible dream of escaping my male life. Through out the fifty years I lived as a serious cross dresser, it seemed I spent too much time researching to see if a life as my authentic femininized self was even possible. What was I going to do about a disapproving group of family, friends and bosses. All corners I needed to see around and judge what was next. 

At times, a few of the corners were more frustrating than others. My primary example always is when I spent years thinking my appearance as a woman (trans or not) was the all important driving factor in how I lived. There was so much more to being a woman than just how I looked. Appearance did open or close many doors but it was only the start. Also, as the internet began to have an impact in my life, I started to research more and more about what the new transgender term was all about and how did it define me. Initially, I thought it did because when I went to transgender - cross dresser mixers I did not mix well with the transvestites and leaned towards the transsexuals in the groups. I was somewhere in between and it was evident to me I had many more corners to turn before I discovered where I wanted to be.

Looking back, during that time in my life, I was gender fluid but had no way to express it. 

As I did begin to aggressively pursue my gender path, I needed to put all the labels behind me and try to determine if my dreams were indeed reachable. Right or wrong, I began to slip out of the house when my wife was at work to live an entire whole new existence as a woman. To do so, there were many blind corners I needed to face, Perhaps the biggest one was when other women wanted to strike up a conversation with me. I found they would start innocently enough with a small compliment on a facet of my wardrobe such as ear-rings and move on from there. Fortunately, most of the conversations were innocent enough as most of the women just were curious about what I was doing in their world. After the first shock of having to communicate in a brand new world, I actually turned the corner and began to appreciate the attention I was getting. I never had that amount of attention from women in my male life. The roles were reversed because I was receiving little to no attention from any of the men I met.  

Even though sometimes we follow similar paths as transgender women and trans men, the gender curves and corners are vastly different. We all have spouses or girlfriends who provide various levels of support or push-back. Often the push-back leads to mental health stress all the way to suicide attempts. 

Through therapy, often turning the gender corners you face may be easier. I know in my case, a mixture of going out on my own to start a new life along with therapy to do away with the old one worked for me. 

Now, at my age of seventy-five, I have come to realize the gender corners I will have to face will always be there as I face the possibility of advanced elderly assisted living. It all seems just a part of the problems we face as transgender women and trans men. 

How Far will You Go?

Image from UnSplash.

I have always viewed my transgender journey as a series of upward steps. A few of the steps were short and easy to take, while others were the opposite. The steps seemed to be impossibly steep and dangerous to proceed. 

Early steps were thrilling and even exciting as I snuck behind my family's back to cross dress in front of the mirror. Even so, the risk of discovery was anything but easy because I was risking so much. In those days, discovery meant a trip to a therapist who knew nothing about gender issues and even worse being treated as if I was mentally ill. 

At that point, looking ahead, I probably knew deep down, things would not get any easier with my gender issues. But, time would tell. As I progressed during my life, it suddenly became obvious  my gender issues were not going to go away. In fact, they were only to become much more serious. Mainly because my male life was becoming so much more serious too. Once I made it through my military service, I settled in to raising my new, small family which I hoped somehow would make me more of a man, while deep down I knew it would never be the case. I wondered how far I would have to go to carve out a good life. 

Fortunately, I was able to even though the trip was difficult, I made it by deciding I would go as far as I needed to go to satisfy living as my feminine authentic self. Initially, I had several major hurdles to conquer. Such as, did I want major surgeries which were much rarer and expensive back in those days as well as how my sexuality would play out as my new self. 

Since I did not have any insurance to cover the surgeries, paying for them was out of the question so I moved on. Next was my sexuality. Since I had absolutely no experience in sexual time with men, I did not know how it would go. It turned out, I did not need to experience much time with me, I never had to move on from my sexuality with women. I was becoming a transgender lesbian. 

Of course, the further I progressed in my new world, the more I had to lose as far as family, friends and employment. I needed to prepare to lose it all if I needed to. I needed to determine if it all would be worth it. In my case, all the years of fear and struggle proved to be worth it. Thanks to my lesbian wife Liz, I was accepted for who I was. 

To arrive here, I did not have to go through extensive operations and change my sexuality. I have always thought gender was between the ears and not the legs so it did not matter to me. I guess it proves how diverse the transgender community is, if we allow it to be. None of the "I'm more trans than you" syndrome which is hurtful to us all. Especially now, in a political environment which is setting out to erase the trans population, we ALL need to be united and not divided behind a bunch of archaic labels, such as cross dresser and transsexual individuals. 

Regardless of the label, we all had to decide how far we want to go to satisfy our gender urges. Or sadly, how many risks did we want to take to change our life forever. It all proves how we never had a choice in who we are as transphobes seem to think we do. How far you go is entirely a personal decision which takes a lot of work and trial and error to accomplish. It' all depends how in depth you want to go. For example, the night I went out to see if I could meet and blend in with other single women on their own turf and survive. I did make it and knew I could never go back to the life I had before in the mirror. I wanted to go more in-depth. 

From then on, I needed the confidence to do it.

Happlily Ever After?

 

Image from Dave 
Goudreau on
UnSplash. 

When it comes to transgender women and trans men, is there ever a happy ending?

As we examine our lives , again and again, we inevitably encounter many pains as we make the transition from one gender to another. Most of us (including me) go through a period of time when we consider ourselves to be cross dressers or transvestites. We were in our own state of limbo, not knowing where we were going. I am amazed when anyone in the outside world thinks our life was so much easier and we were wearing the clothes of the opposite sex as some sort of a lark.

The fact remains, amidst the brief moments of gender euphoria in front of the mirror, we never actually had a choice when it came to our gender issues. In the case of many people such as me, my journey was very lonely and singular and I wondered if I could ever live happily ever after as a transgender woman. It seemed like the impossible dream and if I could ever arrive there, perhaps I could finally become happy. But happiness for me had always been fleeting. Probably because I had never seen much of happy in my family growing up. We were taught anything we did was never good enough. It carried over into my life as a novice transgender woman. 

No matter how attractive I thought I was, there always had to be more. I needed to be better as a trans woman. It turned out I did need to be better to survive in a new feminine world but getting there was a challenge when I went too far, too fast in the wrong direction. Primarily when I went over board in how I was dressing myself way too slutty and attracting the wrong attention to myself. It wasn't the type of validation I was seeking. It took me awhile to realize I could not make it to any semblance of happiness on the path I was on. 

I learned I never would have a chance to be happy in transgender womanhood, unless I began to change my ways and began to dress to blend in with the world. Once I did, I learned I had a whole new set of challenges I needed to face to be happy. Similar to many of you, I faced spousal issues as well as job, family and friends. I always considered changing my gender was a difficult task to take but I never knew all the nuances of making the change I would have to take. Being a woman, trans or not, was a very layered process and I would ever be happy if and when I ever arrived at my goal of living fulltime as my authentic self. 

Then there were the gender affirming hormones I decided to pursue. Before I could begin the meds, I needed permission from a doctor and a therapist to begin. Adding to the importance of the move but once I started the hormones, I knew I was in the right place and I would not turn back to my old unwanted male life.

Even with the HRT, happiness was still fleeting as I faced a wonderful new world. Most likely because there were still instances of public setbacks I still had to negotiate, which included times when my mind was playing gender tricks on me. I was still influenced by sixty years of living a male life and being conditioned to never be happy.

Now, at the age o seventy five, I know I certainly have fewer years ahead than behind me. Now I have to make a concerted effort to be happy. If I don't, it will be too late.

The Sixty Four Crayon Box

Image from Leisy Vidal on UnSplash

I view gender in light of all the recent attacks  on the transgender community from a certain political party here in Ohio not called the Democrats, as a big box of crayons. The whole shameful process just shows how little the Republicans care to know about the trans community,

Rather, if they like it or not, almost all humans fall on some sort of a gender spectrum. It seems, men have fewer crayons to pick from because of their innate insecurities concerning their own gender and or sexuality. Which is a whole separate subject.

I know when I began to color in my own life, I needed the big box of crayons because I did not fit the male mold I was in. Whatever the world thought of me, I needed more out of my life than a restricted male existence. Instead of viewing myself as the round peg being forced into the square hole, I started to see myself as a multi-colored individual with many new gender frontiers to explore. My journey was destined to take me far past the rather quick romance with all the pretty fashion, all the way into a in-depth dive into what a life as a transgender woman would be all about. As I was busy coloring my future, I found I needed different colors to enable me to express myself more completely.

Examples were plentiful. Such as when I looked the part of a woman, how was I ever going to communicate as one. I was so busy coloring, I needed a whole new box of crayons to keep up with my life I was attempting to balance between two genders. To further stereotype the whole process, I quit using all the drab and darker colors and began to use the lighter more vibrant ones as I lived more and more in a femininized world.

The more I went to diverse transgender mixers in nearby Columbus, Ohio, the more I learned about others who were coloring in their gender lives too. I was able observe everyone from those who had almost completed their new lives, all the way to those who were working with broken crayons and severely struggling. All of it was an extreme eye opener for me because I was so naïve when it came to the transgender or LGBTQ world as a whole. Normally what happened was, I took everything in and ended up going back home and thinking about it. A solitary pursuit since I did not have anyone to talk to about it except for the occasional therapist. 

Therapy produced mixed results when several I went to did not want to discuss or see my colored design of who I truly was. It wasn't until I sought out one of the rare gender therapists back then who told me the truth. Basically, she said my picture was beautiful and there was nothing I could do about wanting to proceed on my path to transgender womanhood. I wish I would have listened and started to change my life back then but I was stubborn and hung on to my part-time male existence which at the least, paid the bills. 

As transgender women and men, we really need the extra courage to keep coloring our pictures. For example, in my case, if my health holds up, I will be on gender affirming hormones the rest of my life. Hopefully, I will need another sixty four box of crayons as my life expands as a transgender woman.

 

What Would Mom Say

Image from Jenna Norman
on UnSplash

This week my question to answer on the year long bio I am writing for my daughter and family as well as my wife Liz involved what parent I learned the most from.  

As I compared my Mom and Dad, easily I learned the most from Mom. Outside of the usual circumstances, I found I could find many more opportunities to spotlight Mom's influence on me. For example, I remember at a very early age watching Mom put on her makeup. Being a product of the "greatest generation" she was not shy about dressing up. However, I don't think watching makeup being applied led me to being a transvestite or even a transgender woman really mattered. Somehow the gender issues I faced went much deeper. Perhaps as deep as the medication Mom took during her pregnancy (DES) which was offered to women at the time to prevent problem births.

It turned out, I was successfully delivered just before my parents had decided to give up after three still births and adopt a child. I think because of all of that, my Mom put an extra emphasis on raising me and my brother who came along two years later. So much so, I wonder now what would have happened if Mom would have realized she had a daughter rather than a son. In all fairness to her, the fifties during my youth had very little information on gender issues. When it was available, gender issues were known as mental illness. 

Throughout the years, I always mistakenly thought girls had all the benefits in life I always wanted. Girls were able to wear the pretty clothes I wanted, be gifted the dolls I wanted and even never had to worry about being drafted and serving in the military. Male privileges were not known to me in those days because I had not yet earned any. As a side note, once I did earn the benefits of being male, I learned some of them were automatic and I did not want them anyhow.

I have forever wondered what my life would have been with Mom had I been born a biological female. Being as similar personality wise as we were, we fought quite a bit as mother/pseudo son and I have to think it would have been worse as a daughter. Mom was very headstrong and I am sure we would have had battles over fashion styles in the 1960's as well as when I could begin using makeup. In fact, when I was sneaking around using her makeup, I was probably younger than I would have been had I been her actual daughter.  I am sure too, Mom would have tried to influence me into going to her college and joining her sorority. She would have done her best to push me down a certain path which was certainly going against my generation's rules at that time in history during the upheaval in the later 1960's.

By this time, you may be asking where was Dad during all of this. It was not like he was not an influence in my life but he was not as hands on as Mom was. He was long on providing and short on emotions which I struggled with for most of my life. One thing I remember most about him was how desperate I was to never disappoint him and since I rarely if ever heard a positive from him, I never knew what he really thought of my life. He was blessed with excellent health and outlived my Mom by ten years and I never came out to him before his death from Dementia.

I did try to come out to Mom but it was a dismal failure for both of us. Predictably, when I told her I wanted to be a woman, she offered up mental health counseling. The conversation took place just after I was finished with my military duty and was never mentioned again until her death fifty years later. I used to hold her thoughts against her and was quite bitter but I gradually mellowed with age and came to realize she was just a product of her generation. 

To honor all her sacrifices, I used her first name as my middle name when I legally changed my gender markers nearly ten years ago. Had I had the opportunity to be accepted as her daughter from the beginning, it would have been interesting how our lives would have intersected. Way past the pushback I would have received for wearing my skirts too short and wearing too much makeup when I was a teenager. I know what Mom would have said. You aren't leaving the house looking like that. Maybe I should have thought of that when I tried and failed to dress that way later in life.  

 

Transgender Guilt

Image from Civil War Cemetery
Cincinnati, Ohio.

 For many years I felt guilty about having my gender issues.

After all, I felt so alone in my desire to leave my male self behind and live in a feminine world. Not only was I alone, I even was scorned when I tried to express my desires. As I grew through the stages of being a weekend cross dresser into a novice transgender woman, I waited for the guilt to go away or at the least diminish. It never did. In fact, my guilt increased. 

Factors arose such as what would I tell my daughter and my wife, all the way to how I would manage to support myself and my family when it seemed I could lose everything if I transitioned. Selling my life out to be a woman seemed at times to be such a selfish idea and I felt guilty. So much guilt, it stressed me out so badly it wrecked my already fragile mental health. I would not have wished my gender problems on my worst enemy and even a bigger problem I had was there were few people I could even talk to about it. 

Sure, I had a therapist, but even then I felt guilty of sacrificing my masculinity and talking about my inner feelings. I had a gender storm inside me I could not get out and I was stuck between a cruel rock and a hard place. The reason was I was trying to live in both of the main binary gender worlds. For three days, I was learning if I could exist in a feminine world and in the next three days I had to go back to my boring male world. On the extra day, sometimes I lived in both genders, at least in my head. Of course doing all of this did nothing to relieve the guilt I felt on how I was living my life.

The more I lived my life between the genders, the more I could see what was coming. I was lying to myself when I tried to tell myself my inner woman was winning the contest for my soul. When I was spending my three days experiencing life as a trans woman, I felt more alive and excited about my future than even before. At the same time, I still felt the doubt creeping in about if I could make it at all. Perhaps freedom from guilt was on the horizon if I could just make it. So, I kept trying different things to enhance my future.

As I always point out, my male self pulled out all the stops and threw in guilt as one of the main weapons to keep the status quo he always fought for. As he fought, he made sure he brought up all of the fond memories of the time we spent together. 

Finally, his efforts proved to be to no avail as I started to put together a new life as a transgender woman. It turned out he could not compete with my truth, I had always been destined to be feminine. It was an unfair fight, guilt or no guilt. I could take the battle no longer and gave in before the stress literally killed me. I will forever remember the night when I gave in to my feminine side and decided to research if I was healthy enough at the age of sixty to undergo gender affirming hormone therapy. Which would signal a point to me which I could never to back to life as a man. 

From that point forward, I was able to give the remainder of my male clothes away along with the guilt they carried with them. I moved forward to legally changing my name and all the identification documents which could be be legally done in my state and with the Veteran's Administration. I was doing my best to put all the transgender guilt as far as I could into my rear view mirror. 

Down but Not Out

 

First Girl's Night Out.
I am on the bottom row, left.

There have been many times during my transgender journey which I have felt down.

However, a little voice in my head kept telling me to keep going and if I did, I could achieve my dream of living a feminine life.  I write many times (mainly for those of you who are still new to the transgender or cross dressing world) how I was ridiculed intensely when I first tried to explore the public as a woman. After being laughed at, I always headed home in a hurry and tried to go back to the drawing board to try to determine what I was doing wrong. It took me awhile to figure out I needed to get past my male ego of what a woman should look like and into blending in with the rest of the female world. The mirror and my head turned out to be powerful opponents. 

I need to stress, it took me years of being down to turn my learning curve the opposite way and turn my frown into a smile when I was out in the world. Along the way, I needed to adjust my thinking on how I was accepted. I needed to realize I would never be the most attractive woman in the room and begin to fall back on my personality to get along. I was transgender and different but so what I was a good person. When I accomplished being at the least friendly to others, I began to be accepted into small groups of acquaintances who accepted me for my true self. In one of the venues I became a regular in, I have vibrant memories of a group of five diverse women and even a few men who I could set in with and have a beverage. 

It all proved to me I was resilient and could survive most things, including my growth as a transgender woman. Even though life was about ready to deal me several severe setbacks I was not expecting, I could make it. 

When life did hit me with setbacks, they were sledgehammer type blows. It seemed life was fond of giving me setbacks such as my wife passing away along with most of my best friends. It nearly finished me off when I had to close my restaurant I worked so hard to buy. More or less, I was left with my house, two dogs and an old car to re-erect my life. 

The old saying the darkest hour was right before the dawn was true for me  I was down but I had one huge card up my favorite blouse's sleeve. Since I was so far down why not start all over again as my dream self. My inner female had always been strong enough  to fight for her existence, so why no let her have it. Karma was on my side also, as it was about this time the Veterans Administration  health care system which I was already a part of suddenly approved the use of gender affirming hormones for transgender veterans. I only needed approval from a VA therapist to start the program. It turned out I was with Dr. C. my therapist for over ten years and she worked miracles for me.

Maybe it was because I was able to outlive a suicide attempt and years of self destructive behavior that I was able to come full circle in my life and end up on my heels. I was down but not out and discovered people in the world who could and would step up to accept me as my authentic self. Even though I needed to make the effort first. Which for me was very difficult. In the end, the whole process made me a better person.

Gender Anxieties or Paradise

Image from Cacique 
Nacimento on'
UnSplash

During my gender transition, all the way to today, I have experienced my share of anxieties.

Early examples revolved basically around the way I looked when I was cross dressed in my very limited feminine wardrobe. I kept telling myself I was OK when I with my cross dressing and I was for a couple of days before my gender anxiety returned. Making me difficult to live with. Paradise was fleeting and hard to find. 

Much later on in life, when I began to try out the public's perception of me, the whole process was anxiety ridden. When I used to shop till I dropped in clothing stores, my feminine life was easy because everyone was just interested in selling me something. Or I was in thrift stores where the clerks barely looked at me at all. Maybe because they were used to waiting on cross dressers? Very soon I came away with feeling no anxiety at all when I shopped so I felt I needed to challenge myself further. I needed to see if it would ever be possible to live my dream of being a full-time transgender woman. It was close to this time also when I began to seriously challenge the world as a woman at various Halloween parties I went to. Most of them happened when I was married to my first wife who knew I was a crossdresser  when I married her, so there were no surprises when she saw the "costume" I settled on. 

Even at Halloween, I experienced growth with my gender issues. When I dressed trashy, early on, I was treated the same way but when I decided to see if I could present as a business woman at the party, I was treated with more respect and even surprise at my true gender. Little did I know at the time when I dressed as a woman, I was presenting as my true gender. Very quickly I learned, Halloween was never enough and I needed to express my authentic self as a woman more than once a year. When I did, I began to do more of the household grocery shopping as a novice transgender woman as well as haunting the antique malls and bookstores for the perfect gift for my wife. Anything to take me out of my male comfort zone. When I was successful I was in paradise and when I failed, of course the opposite occurred and  I was sent back to my gender drawing board to re-think my plans. Could I ever make it to my dream the way I was heading. 

Spoiler alert, I could and did make it. Somehow and through the help of therapy I was able to work my way through a large amount of my gender anxiety. My therapist helped me to realize there was absolutely nothing wrong with my transgender desires. Which was as close as she could come to telling me I should proceed with my dreams. Paradise was reachable if I wanted to pursue it farther and I had already accomplished most of the hard work. I had established myself a foothold in the world as a transgender woman and it felt so good and natural, so what was I waiting for.

The answer to what was I waiting for was the outside chance my male self would finally get on board with my decision. He didn't and hung on to the bitter end. In fact he tried to ruin my transition all the way to when I was medically approved to begin gender affirming hormones or HRT. What happened was, the HRT changes were so dramatic, even my male self needed to finally give up and go away. He finally did, leaving most all of my gender anxiety behind and replacing it with a lifetime of feeling freedom such as I had never felt before. 

I had paid my dues and it was time to move on.

Trans Girl Destiny

 

Image from
the JJ Hart
Archives.

When I was given the keys to a transgender existence, on occasion I have to pause and consider how I have arrived here.

Unlocking all the mysteries of crossing the gender border proved to be more than I could deal with on occasion but I kept on moving forward. Trying to find out what it meant to achieve my dream of living as a transgender woman. Finally I learned to relax and let destiny take it's course. Before I could even begin to relax, I needed to learn the new rules of the road.

The rules of being a woman were not easy to learn before I was accepted for admittance into the club. I discovered along the way there were more female privilege's other than having doors opened for me by men. One of the biggest ones was being allowed to communicate with other women on a mostly non confrontational-passive aggressive platform. Along the way, the lessons learned were brutal and I ended up walking away with many scratches or claw marks on my back. Primarily I found not to even try to look at or get close to a woman's man. It frustrated me because the man always made the first move and I had no real interest at all but none of it mattered to the other woman. Another mystery solved as I worked my way towards my transgender destiny. 

During the years in between my final solution to my gender issues, I was held back by many circumstances beyond my immediate control. I felt pressure to maintain my marriage of twenty five years and a job I was rapidly progressing in. To maintain my life, I tried to balance my existence between the two primary binary genders which only provided temporary relief and in some cases, even made it worse. When I became more successful in living as a trans woman, I felt so good and natural, I just wanted more and more. Which included no going back to my old male life which ironically I worked so hard to maintain. Destiny was trying to tell me eventually I would have to give it all up and start over but I could not find the courage to do it.

As I waited and waited for my chance to transition, I came to the point of no return. Magically, at the age of sixty destiny really came into play. First of all, I was to the point when I considered gender affirming hormones as the next huge move I could make concerning my chance to live as a full-time transgender woman. As I was considering the move, the Veteran's Administration suddenly announced they would now cover HRT as part of their health care for veterans. Which I happened to be a part of. The only hold up was I needed to see a therapist at the VA for an approval. I still remember how nervous I was the first time I went to see my therapist and after a second visit, I had my approval for my life changing hormones. 

It was around this time too, my second wife had passed away. Leaving me very much on my own to consider any gender decisions. My choice as clear and impactful as destiny was showing me the way forward and leave my ill-fated dual gender life behind and live as a transgender woman. When I did, I found I had other major decisions to make such as the possibility of undergoing major gender realignment surgeries. I decided against it for several reasons such as I did not have any insurance to cover it and the VA in those days was not covering SRS at all. Similar to Medicare covering breast augmentation or facial femininization surgeries. I am not sure how much any of those entities support those surgeries to this day, so don't quote me on it. The only aspect I decided on was my gender was between my ears and not my legs and those closest to me viewed me as a woman. So I had achieved my goal.

I can't forget the final part of my transition life which destiny played an important role was the financial part. Since age wise I was so close to being able to retire early on social security, I could sell my vintage items on the side and make enough to go ahead and retire. Which meant I would not have to worry about doing a gender transition when I was working. 

So, I had secured my big three aspects of my transition so I had no real reason not to pursue my transgender dreams. Destiny worked for me.