In Praise of Transgender Men

 

Image from Aiden Craver
on UnSplash. 

I am fairly certain that this is the first time I have written a post which almost exclusively deals with transgender men and how they relate to trans women. But it is long overdue as I know I have several transmen who join me on occasion and read along.

Plus, they are kind enough to comment on my writing to give me an idea of what life is all about from the other side of the major transgender border. Sometimes I even have a hard time remembering what the time was like when I was struggling to be a man, so I can understand and comment back.

My actual dealing with trans men goes back to my first dinner date as a transfeminine person. At the time, the person who asked me out identified as a super butch lesbian who had not yet decided completely to live a male life. We went to dinner at TGIF Fridays and yes I was scared to be on my first date as he reminded me of later. It was the first time I was not in complete control (or thought I was) for a date and I got to see life through a whole different viewpoint.

To this day, I still follow his social media to see what he is up to and on very rare occasions in the past, he included me in some of his observations which happened when he transitioned from the other side.

It turns out, many of the same obstacles of crossing the gender border are the same but just reversed of course. Such as the problem of suddenly using the opposite restroom that you were used to using. I wondered what the shift was like from a brand-new male viewpoint when you were expected not to make any eye contact with another guy in “the room”. You were there for one reason only, and that was not to socialize, do your business and get out. Then there is the problem of having to use the stall to pee and having another guy hear you do it. As we all know, cismen have a very fragile sexuality which could be challenged unknowingly at any time when you play behind the gender curtain from female to male.

Not so long ago, I received a comment from a trans guy named “Omey” who said he was not accepted much anymore by the girls he used to know but I would think leaving the girls club would not be dealt with so harshly as leaving the men’s club is for transgender women. I know the club house door was slammed shut on me quickly when I left the men’s club for good. Again, it goes back to a man’s basic lack of belief in his sexuality. I found ciswomen did not care as much that I was living in their world as much as men resented me leaving theirs. And I wonder what transgender men face as a challenge from other men as they try to break into the “team.” Because, like the rest of us, they have no gender workbook to work from.

I know I am forgetting many of the details that went into being a successful cisman for me such as the one-on-one confrontations I had with other men. I was fortunate in that I had built up enough male privilege to get by. Basically, other men could not challenge me at work because I was the boss and could fire them. Even though that was always my last resort. I also found that men are more effective when they build teams and women when they are allowed to form cliques behind alpha-females. Which I know is a stereotype but a successful one for me.

Then there is the argument who has an easier route to passing in the world as their chosen gender, trans men or trans women. I am biased, but I think trans men have an easier time of transitioning into the public once testosterone has a chance to take hold of their body. It is the reason we see so many transgender men later in life with male pattern baldness. Before the baldness sets in, trans men also have the benefit of a good haircut which can make them appear more masculine where transgender women usually must wear wigs because their baldness has set in already.

The more intrusive cosmetic operations from both sides of the gender spectrum are pretty much a give and take in my opinion. Trans women can’t wait to grow their own breasts through HRT while trans men want to go through the traumatic operation to rid themselves of theirs. It’s all a matter of which side of the spectrum you are on, but trans women are more apt to go through more severe facial femininization surgeries to rid themselves of their testosterone poisoned male features. Not to mention the incredible expense most must go through to do it.

My praise goes out to the transgender men who can bring the best examples of the feminine culture with them. Such as deep love and understanding and applying it to a masculine world which desperately needs improving. There are far too many toxic males running around these days. I know early on I benefitted from the understanding of trans men and found them to be so much more intellectually stimulating than cismen and their drama. That is why I so enjoy hearing from trans men, ciswomen and the rest of you on a regular basis.

I am sure, no matter where you end up as a trans man or transgender woman, you are more than happy to give up your place in your old gender world to anyone who wants it. We just need to be allowed to take the best of both worlds and build a better one from it.

Thanks again to all of you who read along and even take the time to contribute to my writing! I’m sure in this post I have skimmed over many of the obstacles transgender men face, and I just hope I flipped my usual script and mentioned a few.

 

 

As the Clock Strikes Midnight

 

JJ Hart

New Year’s Eve is upon us again.

With it comes a flood of memories, some good, some not so good from both sides of my transgender border. First, let’s remember one of the ugly male experiences I had. This came from years ago when I had completed my tour of military duty and we were celebrating that as well as the New Years.

Being the huge drinker that I was, I ordered a keg of beer and a bottle of mezcal for a smallish party my second wife (to be) and I were having. Too much booze it seemed to stay socialized at all. To make a long story short, after a hard night of trying to drink the mezcal and the barrel of beer, when the clock struck zero and the ball in Times Square dropped, I did not kiss my future wife first, I committed the ultimate sin of kissing her more attractive sister. Needless to say, there was no way to hide what I did, and I was in deep trouble no matter what I had to say about it.  The damage was done, and I would have to live with it for years. In fact, I don’t think I ever lived it down.

I could blame the entire unfortunate episode on toxic masculinity setting in, but in fact, I was trying desperately to bury any thoughts that I had of being a woman on yet another New Year’s Eve. From then on, the yearly debacle which was a party on New Years went on by me in a blur. At the least I proved I could outdrink anyone else and at its best I learned the problems of acting like a fool and being careful to kiss the right person at the right time.

Nothing really changed until I met my current wife Liz approximately seven years ago when we went out on the town in downtown Cincinnati for a New Year’s Eve celebration. We began with having an Uber ride to our first destination, which was the Cincinnati Music Hall for a performance of the symphony orchestra. Even though I thought I was dressed appropriately for the occasion in my black sequined gown, I was still very terrified about going at all. It turned out that once again all the worrying in the world did not help me at all because nothing happened. I went, I blended and I conquered all those around me who may have questioned having a transgender woman in their midst. And probably, the best part was that the night was just beginning.

From the music hall, we took a terrifying taxi ride in a cab company called Einstein Taxi (really). He drove us at breakneck speed to a venue where we had dinner reservations down by the riverfront. Once we safely arrived, we did not have to wait long to be seated and once again I was met with no resistance to being me at all. The venue was also a micro-brewery which featured German food, so we ate well as we waited for the ball to drop on a New Year. This time, I made sure I was kissing the right woman. Liz of course, before it was time to head back home and no, we did not drive.

This marked the first time I can remember I did not have the thoughts of failure hanging over my head. I was not going to spend another year as my hated male self again. What a relief!

This New Year’s we have a huge college football game to watch as The Ohio State Buckeyes play Miami of Florida. Since the game does not start until seven thirty, we will have plenty of time to open a bottle of wine and toast the incoming 2026. Without dwelling on all of the problems the transgender community had heaped on us in 2025, maybe the upcoming year will be the one when the rest of the world says enough is enough and the upcoming mid term elections will sweep the evilness and the liars out. It is the country’s two hundred fiftieth anniversary. It is time to reclaim some of our past which made us great.

That is my hope for the New Year, as well as I hope you have a better year too, no matter what your goals and dreams might be. I will be spending it in the comfort of my own home with my favorite person who did more for my male to female gender transition than anyone else. It does not get any better for me and I don’t have to worry about who I am going to kiss.

Happy New Year’s!