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.

 

 

 

 

Working Smarter not Harder as a Trans Girl

 

Image from Erik Mclean 
on UnSplash.

Before we get started on today’s post, here is a little background on my annual visit to the endocrinologist yesterday at the Veteran’s Administration in Dayton, Ohio.

It turns out, I was just wasting a lot of mental time and effort as I was worried about this appointment. I was worried that she would not renew my Estradiol prescription for the next year. But she did with no questions asked. The only other real problem I asked was why my Estradiol blood levels dropped as much as they did on my last visit to the vampires to have them checked. She did not know and thought I should have them checked again and see where they checked out. So, that is where we left it.

In the same vein, I had a great question from reader “Morgan” asking me if I could sense any differences in my moods when my levels went down since we both are older and on the hormonal patches. I told her no, I did not see any difference except in a new infuriating amount of hair I needed to get rid of on my arms. Since that time, the hair seems to be retreating, so hopefully that signals my levels returned to where they usually were. And, as far as moods go, normally I do feel an overall sense of wellness on the days I change my patches as well as a welcome swelling of my breasts.  I hope that covers the question Morgan, and thanks for asking.

As far as the deeper problem of feeling so much paranoia that I felt before the appointment, I think it goes back to my entire progression on the gender path I took to my transfeminine womanhood. It always seemed I was working harder not smarter as I attempted to fill out my feminine gender workbook as fast as I could. It was because I did not have the benefit all the other girls had growing up in a world of ciswomen where I was excluded. Every gender stop sign that I faced deepened my paranoia that I could ever have a chance of making it to my dream goal of crossing the male to female gender border and settling in as a successful transgender woman.

The first part I faced was just working to blend in with the ciswomen public I was around. I wanted to live the old saying that if it walked like a duck and looked like a duck, then it was a duck. My problem was even when I thought my clothes and makeup were on point and looked good, here I was walking like a circus clown in drag in my high heels. Putting my transfeminine persona into motion presented a real problem for me. It seemed like it was not so long ago that I was having the problem learning how to walk like a man out of puberty so I would not be called a sissy by the bullies and here I was trying to reverse the process. It took me a while to try to perfect my version of a woman’s unique style of movement but with a lot of practice I calmed my paranoia when I entered a room full of strangers and did the best I could. Then, I needed to work smarter, not harder trying to remember which gender I was on which day I was presenting. I worked in a pressure packed male dominated industry and it was as if the clock had been turned back and I was worried about being called a sissy again.

Another problem I was having was keeping my mind on whatever gender I was. An example would be all the time I wasted at work wondering what it would be like to live the life the ciswomen around me were living. Or better yet, daydreaming of the next time I could try when I could flip the switch and sneak out of the house again as a convincing transgender woman. If I could reclaim just a portion of the time I wasted, I worked harder not smarter as a person caught between two genders, what a relaxing, extra successful life I could have led. I was stubborn though and persisted through the decades just getting by thinking I could juggle being a parttime woman and a parttime man. Finally, it all became too much for me to handle mentally, so I needed to make a choice. But even then, I had to make certain that I was making the right decision, so I set out to change my path into a more challenging direction.

What I did was to throw caution to the wind and try to experience situations I always wondered what it would be like if I was an actual ciswoman. To do so, I had to finally earn my way behind the gender curtain and really attempt what my own unique path to trans womanhood really required of me. Essentially, the whole process required total commitment from me, and I needed to start making future decisions which would dramatically change the rest of my life. I was nearing sixty and my transgender biological clock was ticking loudly in my mind. If I was ever going to make my move to live fulltime as a woman, I better do it and it was time.

Better yet, I had a circle of women friends to help me socialize into the feminine community and I set out to secure a doctor’s approval to start HRT or gender affirming hormones. The timing was all right for my big move, and I no longer had to work harder more than smarter to do it. Most importantly, my paranoia about doing it all was at an all time low as for a change, destiny was on my side. Against all odds, I was able to meet a stable loving woman online as well as my daughter came on to accept me when I told her my deepest secret about wanting to be a woman my entire life.

Karma was coming around to pay me back for all the paranoia I experienced when I was working harder more than smarter. For the first time in my life, I allowed myself to be happy.

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

Courage or Something Else?

 

Image from Miquel Bruna
on UnSplash. 

Recently, I have exchanged a few comments with a reader named “Janie” and we somehow got into the subject of being courageous in our male to female gender transitions. Also, on occasion, I get someone calling me courageous on how I decided to follow my path to leading a transfeminine life.

The problem is I never considered myself courageous as I tried and tried to establish myself where I could blend in, in a world of ciswomen everywhere. Here are two examples, the first coming from “Janie.” When she said she wished she had the courage (and I am paraphrasing) to come out as a full-fledged transgender woman as a teenager. On the other hand, I wished I would have had the courage to follow my instincts and come out of my closet when I was honorably discharged from the Army and had very little male baggage to think about. I was still becoming established in the working world, had no children yet and a future wife who did not seem to care what I did. I would never again have that sort of opportunity to live a life as my authentic self without waiting on the world to catch up.

It turned out that I still had a lot of living to do before I could find my way up my path to being a fulfilled transgender woman. Sure, there were plenty of opportunities to overcome when I was petrified to try to overcome my male self and enter the world of women, but I never thought I needed an extraordinary amount of courage to do it. I always reserved that amount of praise for war heroes and first responders who ran towards danger, not away from it. I was not running towards danger; I was just doing what I had to do to survive.

Ironically, the world evolved around me when it came to gender issues over the years. You may remember when the film “Tootsie” came out and gave a realistic idea of what ciswomen go through in the world through the ideas of a man (Dustin Hoffman) living the experience. Sadly, the new look into the genders did not last until today when coming out into the world possibly did take a lot of courage after all. Lives could be wrecked when you would not be fully accepted as a trans woman with your spouse, your family, your friends and your employment. Especially today when the orange Russian asset in Washington DC is leading the charge against us for no real reason.

Getting back to the task at hand, the something else when it came to the courage question, as I said, came down to pure survival. Not some sort of a hobby of putting on a dress and makeup to attempt to look good as a woman. The problem was that I knew at a very early age just looking at my girlish image in the mirror was never going to be enough to satisfy my gender desires. I simply wanted more. To live like the girls around me I so envied in school. An idea which would come back to heavily influence my life in later years. I fought my feminine instincts hard, which ended up doing nothing more than potentially destroying my mental health and my life as I led a very self-destructive life. It seemed everything my male self-had built up, I needed to try to tear down. I would not have wished what I went through on my worst enemy. So, I set out to do what I could to save myself.

During those days of discovery, I learned firsthand the idea of having persistence over any idea of having courage. Survival became my goal in life as I set out to build a feminine lifestyle from scratch. Deep-down, the idea kept coming to me that I was doing the right thing, no matter how painful it might turn out to be. In fact, I went all the way back to my childhood, so I knew it was more than just a temporary rush of gender euphoria as a trans woman when I was accepted in the world. I was surviving as me with little or no courage needed. Just a liberal amount of fear on the occasions when things were not going so well like when I had the police called on me for using the restroom of my choice. It was my own fault for being in a redneck venue I had not taken the time to set up being a regular yet. Then I never had the courage to go back.

I will never try to speak for “Janie” or anyone else who regularly reads my work, but on my end, no matter how much I did not respect the work my male self-did for me over the years there are certain things I would have really missed if I had followed my instincts and come out before I had the chance to build any sort of a life. I would have missed the once in a lifetime opportunity to have a wonderful daughter and a loving wife which I was with for twenty-five years until her untimely death. We had many good times, interwoven with the bad caused by my gender issues. I don’t know if I would have ever had the courage to ever totally leave her and wished she could have been around to experience my growth into a mature transgender woman. Of course, now, I will never find out.

As you can tell, I really don’t believe courage had that much to do with my development as a transfeminine person. On the other hand, a heavy dose of persistence mixed in with the ultimate need to survive allowed me to make it to where I am today. I know I am basically just dealing with semantics anyhow so the only thing that matters is how you survive. With or without HRT or any gender surgeries or with extensive work it does not matter as long as you are happy and thriving.

Thanks to “Janie”, Christine and all of you who have taken the time to comment on my topics. Without all your input, my work would not be worth it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pressure Tested as a Trans Woman

 

Image from Jayson Hendrickson
on UnSplash. 

As I moved along in life, I became pressure tested on both sides of the gender border.

On the male side, I became embroiled with restaurant jobs which involved immense amounts of pressure to succeed and on my female side, I felt the same pressure to succeed when I was finally able to leave my mirror and enter the world. For the most part succeeding as a male meant more financial rewards, while the success as a transfeminine person meant more inner freedom to express myself.

Ironically, my success as a novice cross-dresser or transgender woman often came at the expense of my male self when he failed at a project in life and came running back to dresses and makeup for comfort. Even that became old though when my trans woman kept increasing the stakes in the basic battle to just be seen in public. She wanted more than the easy trips to women’s clothing stores where money was more important than gender. As she began to interact more completely in the world, the pressure to be tested time and time again increased dramatically. Especially when she had to do more than try to communicate with more than a simple “Hello” or “Thank You.” For the longest time, I was panicked and very insecure about holding any sort of a conversation with another person, woman or man.

The way I relieved the pressure of communication was simply tied to doing it over and over again until it became as natural to me as possible. I learned from my feminine vocal lessons, it was not as much about what you were saying as how you were saying it. And how I could interject little feminine vocal patterns into my speech, even though I still had a deeper voice than most women. I say most women because I immediately began to notice a few ciswomen who had lower voices but still managed to communicate in the world with no problems. All because they had the benefit of growing up around other women. As I said, the only way around my communication potential problem was to hitch up my big girl panties and begin to communicate with the world. Which in some cases was one of the last frontiers I needed to face as I climbed out of my mirror and into the world as a trans woman.

I discovered I did not really know any pressure on my initial excursions as a feminine person until the time came to use the restroom. Initially, I was very intimidated and made sure I waited until “the room” was empty before I snuck in to use it until I began to build some confidence in myself. When I did, I began to learn restroom basics such as making sure I took the time to smile and interact with any other women I may encounter. The exact opposite than what I was used to in any men’s room I used. Since I was not using the women’s room as any sort of a fun test just to prove I could, I needed to learn as much as I could about other women because of a natural need to do so. I did things such as trying to mimic the sound of “flow” when I went to the woman close in the stall next to me and of course, I needed to remember to look for toilet paper, hang my purse up and always, always stop to wash my hands as I examined my hair and makeup in the mirror. No matter how much of a hurry I was to get out of there.

Surviving the restroom wars gave me the confidence to lose some of the pressure I felt as I entered the world for the first time as a transgender woman. From there I could move on to bigger and better things such as being recognized as a regular in the selected venues I wanted to go to. When I did, I knew I would have the backing of the staff if and when I was approached by a gender bigot or TERF (ciswoman bigot) about what I was doing there at all. In fact, I think I became the token trans woman at several venues who were proud of their diversity and safely for the LGBTQ community.

If I was a more intelligent person in math, maybe I could come up with a quotient relating to how pressure relates to confidence, but I cannot. I am stuck just trying to explain what it meant to me and what it might mean to you if you are considering a gender journey such as mine. The easiest way to describe it is that it is an intensely personal journey that is often lonely and full of self-sacrifice. Which could also describe why the path or journey is so full of pressure to succeed in so many different ways. I say that because I learned on my path that there were so many different ways to achieve my dream of living the way I wanted to as a fully functional transfeminine person. Primarily I learned I did not have to be the most attractive woman in the room to be accepted. Maybe I could make it on my personality. Which is exactly what many ciswomen do.

When the pressure was off, the pleasure set in for me and I could begin to refine who I wanted to be as I pursued a rare second chance in life to rebuild myself in the image I had always dreamed of. I was fortunate when I found the right people, cis women, to help me along in ways they never knew as I filled out the little nuances of my gender workbook. As I always say, I had no idea of how many layers women have to go through other than men just to live their life.

I don’t think I had a choice in my life to not live the pressurized existence that I lived. It was all built into the path I chose to take, and I grew used to it. As a transgender woman, often it seemed I had more than my fair share of pressure to deal with. That is why as a tribe, trans women and trans men have proved to be very resilient over the time we have populated the world. Regardless of what haters and bigots think.

 

 

My Last Date as a Man

 

JJ Hart in the long black wig
I wore to the concert. 

My last date as a man was very eventful as destiny was sending me a powerful message.

It all began a couple of years after my second wife passed away and I decided to again seek out feminine companionship from a ciswoman. Then I made a mistake and became enamored with the mom of one of my servers at the restaurant I owned. Mom was about my age and extremely attractive and I gathered up the courage to ask her out when I learned she was single. From there we went on several dates including one in her native Cincinnati. I was quite naïve and thought things were going fairly well until my daughter got me two tickets to a “Joe Cocker” concert at an outside summer festival near to where she lived in Dayton, Ohio.

I guess the idea of perhaps meeting my daughter scared her off, because after initially saying yes, a week before the concert she abruptly said no and I wasn’t to call her anymore. By this time in my life, I don’t think anything could surprise or hurt me more than what I was already going through, so I picked up the pieces of this brief ill-fated relationship and prepared myself to move on. But I had one problem, what was I going to do with the other ticket I had for the concert. Then my mind came up with a plan, why not invite my feminine self? It would be yet another test to see how successful my transition was coming along as well as soothing the ego wounds from being turned down by what turned out to be the last date I would ever have as a man with a ciswoman in my life.

At that point, I was very much still in the closet to my daughter, so I planned to pick up the tickets as my male self then go home later and get ready. Getting ready proved to be an adventure as I knew I could put together an upscale/casual outfit for the evening. I ended up choosing a black outfit with a three-quarter sleeve mesh top and wide legged silky black pants with black sandals. Topping it all off, I chose my long black straight-haired wig and sunglasses on my head as an accessory. After carefully applying my makeup, I was ready to take on the world as a transgender woman out to her first concert. I felt good and confident for a change as I left the house for the half hour drive to the concert venue.

Once I arrived, I gathered myself, checked my makeup and took off walking to the concert which was filling up with people fast. Since it was still light outside, I could wear my sunglasses to check out anyone who was staring at me without them knowing. I was relieved when no one noticed the tall, long-haired woman in black making her way through the crowded sidewalk to her seat. I even had enough time to walk up to the concession stand and order me a refreshing drink before the late “Joe Cocker” started his show. By this time in his career, he played his hits and I was happy.

I ended up immensely enjoying the concert. Even more so since I was spending unique public time with my transfeminine self. I walked away from the experience with a new-found confidence in myself to live my life the way I had always dreamed of. In a world where ciswomen ruled. And maybe most importantly, I don’t think I embarrassed myself by the way I looked.

Maybe I was a little too over dramatic when I mentioned destiny setting in that night, but it did because never again did I set out to date a ciswoman as my male self and go through all the dating contortions I hated so much. I don’t know why but I always had felt so much more at ease when I was dealing with women as a trans woman and I never looked back.

My last date as a man was uneventful because it never happened it seemed for a reason. In the future I was able to have much better times going to places such as roller derbies with my lesbian friends where I could relax and have fun. Something I rarely did when I was trying to date as a man.

 

 

A More Innocent Time

 

Image from Arun Sharma
on UnSplash. 

On occasion, I look back at the early days of my cross-dressing past wistfully thinking those days were the innocent ones of my life before everything began to get more complicated.

In those days, all I needed to do was make sure I did not destroy mom’s pantyhose or stockings and be careful to put back her clothes where I found them. I guess I was successful because she never said anything to me. Using her makeup was much easier because she always kept samples in a side drawer in the bathroom, I could experiment with. At that time, the whole cross-dressing experience seemed to be an innocent game. Except for my deep paranoia about getting caught. Even the paranoia led me to being more creative about hiding my feminine clothes and makeup. What I had of it.

When the reality of serving in the military during the increasingly deadly Vietnam War slowly but surely made its way into my life, much of my innocence began to go away. The stark reality of going without my dresses and makeup for three years of my young life began to set in. After I passed my draft, medical exams and tests there was nothing I could do about it. Because I was not prepared to run to Canada to evade serving in the military. During that time as well as many years after I was honorably discharged from the Army, I continued to be quite naïve or innocent that all I needed to do to survive as a transgender woman in the world was to do my best to look really feminine. These were the days when my second wife and I battled back and forth about how I was cross dressing as a woman. She always thought my makeup was overdone and I was too fond of wearing “girly” fashion for her tastes. I tried to tone it down for the occasions we went out as two women but her expectations of me were so strict that if I followed her directions, I might as well not bother cross-dressing at all.

Even though I lost most of the battles with her about my evolving fashion sense, I won a few wars when she had to ask me for makeup guidance when we were going out to a fancier setting. Revenge was sweet. For a while, life was very routine for us as we both had challenging employment when we moved from our native Ohio to the suburbs of New York City, a real culture shock to us both. I was disappointed when the more liberal attitude I expected in the big city never materialized because we had to rent from an elderly Italian man and his wife who I knew would have never accepted a trans woman in their apartment. Long story short, my wife loved NYC while I disliked it and started my habit of rapidly changing jobs and moving to outrun my gender issues. Undoubtedly, I had entered one of the most exhaustive phases of my life as I tried to balance my growing transfeminine desires with a wife, a job and a family.

By this time, my growing one on one interactions with the public were driving what I had left of my innocence away. I began to realize that I was locked in a life-or-death gender struggle which may be impossible to ignore. What did I do? I exchanged my exhausting job changing for settling down in one great job opportunity, and at the same time begin to explore the new and exciting world of being a trans woman fulltime. For a time, I was fulfilled by both aspects of my new life until I began to be overwhelmed by the speed both my job and me being able to carve out a life as a new trans woman was coming together. I never imagined I would be so successful, and so terrified about what I would do about them together.

I like to refer to the process I was going through as trying to piece together a large, complex puzzle of life. On one hand, I had my male side loving the financial increases he was seeing. Then my female side pushing back to what was more important. Making money as an unhappy man or living a softer more fulfilling life as a transgender woman. Almost daily I struggled with finding the right pieces for my puzzle. All I accomplished was taking all the satisfaction I was feeling from either side as they battled on.

As I faced the new world I was living in, I was determined to be less self-destructive but that did not work either as I continued to do things like go to my restaurant competitors dressed as my authentic trans woman self. I was not that good, and it did not take long for the gossip to get out about what I was doing. Sabotaging all that I had worked so hard to achieve in my career to finally let people know who I really was. I was destroying once and for all my male past and the innocence was gone. However, with the loss of innocence came the deep feelings that I had finally made the right choice and everything I had done in life directly or indirectly had influenced my future. My primary example is fathering my daughter, who over the years has accepted me and I love very much. Without being forced into the Army where I met her mother, I would never have had the experience of my life. I am just fortunate that I was destined to live as long as I have to have the chance to see the pieces of my puzzle come together and have a chance to experience one of the most interesting and scary experiences a human can take. That of course is crossing the gender border from male to female to live on the other side.

I was never good with puzzles, especially my own, and to lose my innocence finishing mine was a real treat.

 

 

I Always Was a Dreamer

 

JJ Hart

I always was a dreamer and a person who thought why not me if others could do it.

I guess it all started with the parents I had who were from the “greatest generation” or WWII and Great Depression survivors. Ironically, I was taught to think for myself as long as my thoughts did not conflict with theirs. That is why I could never tell anyone in my family of my dream to someday be a woman. I needed to fall back on my default answer that I wanted to be a doctor or lawyer which kept me out of the psychiatrist’s office.

My most difficult dreams were waking up when I was still male and my vision of being feminine was just that…a vision. I had only dreamed that I was the pretty girl I desperately wanted to be. It was then that I started to play the odds that I would not be caught wearing my mom’s makeup or dresses, or worse yet get caught shopping for my own makeup in a downtown store close to where my dad worked as a banker. As luck would have it, I managed to always be clean and dressed back into my unwanted male clothes by the time my parents or my only brother came home from wherever they had been. Even though I had been able to briefly help decrease the gender pressure I felt from cross-dressing, deep down I knew I had other urges and I began to dream of what I was ever going to do about them.

The first problem I had was I had little to no confidence in my ability to present as an attractive feminine being when I tried. I was fond of thinking I looked like a circus clown in drag. And I am sure I did before I was able to come to a basic understanding of how to use makeup. On most occasions, I could only dream of the time when I could look better as a girl in my mirror and I kept playing with the odds I would not be caught and ruin my whole future as I knew it.

The playing the odds attitude helped me considerably when it came time for me to serve in the military during the long drawn out and deadly Vietnam War. Rather than serve the basic two years if I was drafted, I could have a couple other choices such as enlisting for three years and attempting to get a job I wanted to do or even join the National Guard for six years and basically stay out of the war that way. As decision time approached, I made a split-second decision to turn down the guard offer and take the enlistment offer as I hoped I could get a job in the Army that I really wanted. Which was I really wanted to continue my radio DJ career in the military which was nearly impossible to do as the Army only had sixty broadcasters in their entire system. I played with the odds and won and the three years I spent serving my country turned out to be very beneficial to me as I got exactly what I wanted. A slot in the American Forces Radio and Television Service in Thailand, then Germany.

My success in my near to impossible military profession taught me that perhaps I could be successful in my transgender dreams also. Nothing might be impossible if I only kept trying and refused to stop during my gender journey. I was naïve, which was probably for the best because I had no idea of all the stop signs, I would continue to face before I was allowed to play in the girl’s sandbox. I always knew women led a more layered, nuanced existences than men, but I didn’t know how much more different I would have it as a transfeminine person until I tried.

I knew when I started to become successful in my dream to live in a world full of competitive ciswomen, my ultimate goal might have been within reach. My presentation in the world as a trans woman was benefitted from all those frustrating hours, I spent experimenting with makeup when I was younger. The next challenges turned out to be the most difficult ones when the world (primarily ciswomen) wanted to challenge me with their curiosity about what I was doing in their world. I discovered what I already knew from my past that whatever did not kill me just made me stronger from the rare negative interactions I had with other women. I was able to learn valuable lessons on how to look for passive aggressive disagreements and recover along with the claw marks up and down my back.

Another positive was that I rarely had a wishful dream that I was a woman anymore. My feminine dreams just went to the shallow extent of showing me how my life would be if I was more attractive or had the chance of not missing all the days of growing up in the world as the girl I always knew I was. Plus, I knew I must be doing something right because none of my feminine dreams turned out to be nightmares in the real world.

In addition to wondering what my second wife would think of me now as a trans woman who has had a decade or so to fill out her gender workbook, I wonder if my parents would have ever come to accept me either. Or at least recognize the mental seeds they planted in their oldest son who turned out to be their oldest daughter after all. Somehow, the irony is not lost on me how such rigid parents could raise such a child who turned out to be such a dreamer. Somehow, I believe my dad who was a self-made successful man would have come to accept me long before my mom who I tried to come out to and was rejected years before.

Even then, she could not break my spirit or my dreams.

 

Are you Worthy, or an Impostor

 

Image from Strechath Gupta 
on UnSplash

As a transgender woman or a transgender man do you ever think you are worthy of all the contortions you put yourself through to arrive at your dream goal. What gives you the right to challenge one of a human’s most sacred basics, the gender you were supposedly born with.

To make matters worse, you have the orange felon in Washington (and his followers) oversimplifying any idea of a gender spectrum saying there are just men and women. When we know there is no such thing because we live it every day. Many of us (including me) wondered for the longest time if we are worth the time to try to handle such a inner spirit which was called a dual spirit by quite a few ancient cultures before the white Puritans got ahold of our society. Forget about being held up to be honored for our knowledge of the world, we became scorned. But that is not the subject of this post, I want to try to talk about us.

The first time when I truly faced the problem of being worthy enough to think of myself as a transgender woman was when I started to attend regular girl’s night out functions and still felt as if I was some sort of an outsider. Or, I had a strong case of impostor syndrome setting in. It took me awhile to get used to where I was behind the gender curtain, feel like I deserved to be there as much as the next woman and relaxed and started to enjoy myself. As I write about often, at this point in my life I had my second wife and male self-fighting me as hard as they could to keep me male and hurt my chances of ever achieving my dream of living as a complete transfeminine person. Without the guilt I felt and had no impostor syndrome.

What kept me going through all the resistance I was feeling was the whole femininization process felt so natural. Even with the day my wife could had left me behind in the small Cleveland, Ohio tavern venue we were visiting as two women before we went to a transgender-cross dresser social mixer. What happened was, we were sitting at the bar enjoying a drink when a good-looking man on a Harley motorcycle pulled up outside, came in and sat next to my wife and started a conversation. For the first time in my life, I felt powerless to do anything about what I was about to go through if the man offered my wife a ride on his Harley. In addition, my wife played her hand for all it was worth before she decided to not go with him leaving me behind. With no male privileges to protect me. I was taught quite the lesson about female-to-female competition when it came to men and would I ever be worthy enough to compete. Don’t be fooled into thinking that women don’t compete as much as men. They do, just on a different level of intensity at different times.

It literally took me years to accomplish what I wanted to, but I did feel I had the confidence to stand up for myself as a trans woman. In other words, I finally had been able to put the total package together on my trip out of the mirror and into the world. It felt good until I found I was not there yet and was not worthy of feeling secure in calling myself a proud transgender woman. I wanted to be more; I just wanted to be worthy of just being the me I always dreamed I could be. I wanted to be able to compete the next time my wife encountered a man she was attracted to for his attention on an equal footing. Sadly, I never could before she passed away.

To be worthy for me, also took the work of several friends I always mention who taught me so much about being a woman in the world. Primarily in the area of dealing with me. Being lesbians, they taught me I did not need a man’s attention to validate my being in the world. And I was no worse for wear after leaving the men’s club for good and greener pastures with feminine privileges such as the basic freedom to see the world like me. Being allowed to express my emotions when I needed to be a prime example.

Are you worthy can only be answered by you. I know from reading the comments I get, many of you are taking the cautious exploration methods that I took on the path to my gender goals. The method I took was certainly much slower than just tearing the bandage off saying to the world, here I am. Sometimes I wondered what that would have been like when I considered trying it as early as when I was discharged from the Army. Before I had the chance to start building any sort of male life at all. Naturally, the world was much different back in the 1970’s, early 80’s when I was discharged so I will never know what my life would have been like. All I do know was my initial exploration into coming out to my mom were dismal failures and I probably would have been disowned by my family.

Also, it is never too late to think of yourself as being worthy of going behind the other gender curtain. Male to female or female to male, it doesn’t matter. The trip is amazingly the same according to readers such as “Alex” who is a female to male transgender man. The only stable idea is the longer you wait, the more likely you are to build up more gender baggage which you will have to decide what to do with. Who knows, maybe you can find others around you who enjoy the same hobbies and interests that you do. Which is what happened to me.

The only way you can know if you feel worthy is to try.

 

 

 

 

 

I've Got Someone for That

 

JJ Hart on Left, wife Liz on Right. 

Maybe you have seen the commercial on television where a group of men seemingly have an answer for a friend who can solve a certain problem. To a point, then they are all stumped on what to do.

I saw the commercial again this morning and applied it to my path to living a transgender existence. My basic idea was, I did not ever have someone to provide guidance in all my gender issues. In the pre-internet days, which I write about often, I needed to rely on publications such as “Transvestia” or “Tapestry” for any real information on having someone to help me understand what I was going through in my life. I was overjoyed for awhile when the magazines helped lead me to actually meeting in person others at cross-dresser-transgender mixers which were close enough to me so I could attend. Surely, (don’t call me Shirley my name was Karen back in those days) I could meet someone there who I could explain my gender issues to and feel as if I had someone to confide in and help me.

In reality, even after I went to the social mixers, I still did not come away with feeling like I had someone to be my friend. No matter how you defined what the publications called me. A transvestite or a cross-dresser, I just knew I was different and still belonged in the group of men in the commercial who were stumped on what to do. That defined the new groups I was meeting for the first time.

Since I could not find a friend at the mixers, I withdrew into myself and did the best I could cross-dressing and dreaming of a better day in front of the mirror. I was stubborn and kept on attending socials until I began to be invited to smaller parties at a house in nearby Columbus, Ohio. The parties were very diverse, and I learned a lot from the others around me and even developed acquaintances who shared my gender path. Or so I thought because a few of them took a sharp curve away from me and went as far as having gender realignment surgery. Back in those days when you took such a radical step, you were expected to leave your past totally behind and start all over again and I started to drift away from them. Very soon I was stumped again and very confused on where I was going as a transfeminine person.

The only thing I knew for certain was my sexuality did not change when I entered my feminine world. I even was attracted to the very few lesbians who were attending the parties I was going to, and often we would briefly leave to visit other lesbian friendly venues in Columbus. At least it was one small feeling I knew I could count on.

Through it all, I did have someone who was my second wife. On many of the party nights, she would accompany me which sometimes was bad and sometimes it was good. She was the one who saved me from being trapped in a small hallway by a huge admirer one night, which was good, and other nights her presence hindered my ability to expand and test my feminine personality. Sadly, I learned more about myself when she was not around as I considered her my best friend most of the time. She was not the person I needed all the time though, which created huge problems in our long-term relationship. She always knew I was a cross-dresser but drew the line if I drifted towards any of the transgender women at the party.   

At that point, I did feel like I did have someone who understood what I was going through at the party but had the feelings rejected at home. The worst part of the whole thing was, I had gone too far with my transfeminine experimentations to ever turn back but I tried to have the best of both worlds. Save my marriage on one hand and live a part time life as a trans woman on the other. I still carry the guilt coming from the number of times I broke my promise to my wife and left the house dressed when she was at work. I have always described it as cheating on her, with myself.

One way or another, I was gaining confidence in my feminine self to continue to build a new life which felt so natural because for a change I had someone to lean on. For those of you who don’t know, my second wife passed away suddenly from a massive heart attack leaving me with a huge hole in my life along with a truck load of guilt which I could never make up for.

In her sudden absence, I fell back on the only person I knew who could help me as I decided to end my male life for good and live out the remainder of my life as a trans woman. It turned out all the labor of love I put into my femininized life came back to help me because I had all the hard work of refining my presentation behind me. I had a working knowledge of what to do to survive in the world of alpha ciswomen. I just had to refine my new life to a point where I could thrive with new friends. When I had reached new milestones in my life such as HRT hormonal changes, I was met with welcome to our world and knowing smiles rather than masculine scowls and glares. I loved my new life.

The only problem I had was I took too long to transition across the male to female gender border. It turned out I had someone all along to help me if I ever gave her the chance. I was stuck in the good old boys’ male privilege club way too long and it was hard to give up. Once I found someone like my wife Liz to point out the obvious to me, I knew for sure I had that special someone and I could live an authentic life as a transgender woman.

 

Everything Was Fine Until It Wasn't

 

Image from Danny
Messina on UnSplash

Many times, when I was sailing along thoroughly enjoying my feminine self out in the world, I would come to a rude awakening that something was not right. As I experimented as a novice cross-dresser fresh out of the mirror at home, I learned any number of things could be wrong. Including the cruel imposter syndrome which haunted me. A great topic for another blog post.

Or maybe my makeup was not on point, and I looked like a clown in drag, or I had that old male scowl on my face instead of a pleasant little smile which gave away the fact I was not enjoying myself the way I should. But something was wrong as I was doing what I wanted to do for a change, and I needed to show it. Not revert to my old male ways of trying to scare people off before they even started to interact with me. It is something I work on to this day as it is easy for me to fall back into old gender habits. I needed to work hard to put my entire new feminine image into play when I was out or no matter how good my makeup and fashion looked, I was not going anywhere in my development as a transgender woman.

A quick example of the problems I was facing with my face happened one day when I was out shopping in a woman’s clothing store. When I came around a rack of clothes, I was startled by a young girl staring up at me. Worse yet, I was prepared for the worst when she took off looking for her mother. I was semi-relieved when I heard her say, look at the BIG woman, and I thought she had that part right. Until she said, the BIG MEAN woman, and I immediately felt bad that she thought I was mean. From that point forward, I put a slight feminine smile on my face as my final touch of makeup. Everything was right with the world that day (including the little girl who thought I was a woman) until it wasn’t.  Lesson learned.

Changing the way, I looked at the world with my face was just the beginning of improving my overall presentation in the world of ciswomen, young and old. Early on, I paid quite a few brutal dues when it came to encountering groups of teen girls in the malls I went to. We all were in the process of discovering our femininity, and the girls took their humor out on me vocally and it hurt but the process helped me to develop myself to a point where I could better blend in with the new world I was trying to conquer. I just had to learn to conquer in a different way than I had ever had to before. I could not just hope to bluster my way through life as a man which I had gotten used to, I needed to finesse my way through until I began to feel the benefits of female privilege past the occasional man who opened a door for me.

Everything was fine, until I learned I was just getting started on my dream to live a transfeminine future. I had no idea how complex a woman’s life could be with a passive aggressive future in store for me. Plus, a future where for a change, to survive with other women I needed to completely listen to what they were saying and make sure I looked them straight into the eye, so I did not miss any nonverbal communication which was coming my way. Several times, I was helped out of potentially dangerous situations with toxic men by paying close attention to the nonverbal cues being given to me by concerned women with much more experience than me.

For the most part, this time of my life, in my thirties and forties , everything was fine with the gender juggling act I was attempting until I pushed myself too hard, challenged my mental health and continually got in trouble with my second wife who caught me trying to sneak back into the house after a night of living as my newly thriving feminine self. At that point, massive fights occurred which ended with me trying to promise I would never go out again. Which I knew would never happen. Once I had seen the world from my vantage point of a trans woman, deep down I knew I could never go back to a completely male life. I think my wife knew that too and that is why the fights we had became so vicious. Particularly when she told me I made a terrible woman because (in my words) my gender workbook was not filled out, and I had not paid my dues. Which was exactly what I was doing when I went out to live. I was sad I couldn't share my new knowledge with her but it was just not meant to be before she suddenly passed away.

After she died, nothing was fine as I was intensely lonely and needed a shoulder to grieve on. I found that shoulder in a predictable place and she was there all the time, my transgender self. When failure was not an option in my life, all the lonely nights I spent exploring the world around me with other women proved to be an invaluable experience when I learned I did not “make” a terrible woman after all. It turned out, I did not “make” anything at all, I just found my way to a place I always should have been, and everything turned out of be fine and I could take the wasn’t away from it.

I was even happy for the first time in my life as the heavy expectations of a male life I wanted no part of were removed for good. Being free to be the true me was the best move I ever made and my only problem was I did not do it sooner. Everything was fine, it was just hidden from me by myself. When revealed, I was free to never look back.

 

 

What is THAT Sound?

 

Image from Jason Rosewell
on UnSplash. 

What’s that faint noise I hear far in the distance? It took me awhile to figure it out, but it was the sound of my feminine self-yearning to be set free to live. Very early on, I thought she would go away as I aged but the opposite turned out to be true. She grew stronger as the years of my life progressed.

That is when I started to realize just looking at my cross-dressed self in the mirror was just not going to be enough. I wanted more of the feminine life I had experienced. What I was experiencing was the idea of I had much more than a casual interest in women’s clothes and makeup. I was more into how they lived. The term transgender had not even been invented yet, so I had nothing to compare my feelings with. I did not think I was transsexual like Christine Jorgensen, but I was certainly different from other cross dressers I was seeing in my well-worn copies of “Tapestry” and “Transvestia” magazines. When all of that happened, the sound kept getting louder and something larger was wrong with me and it took me years to realize what was wrong with me was not what the sound was telling me.

I went on fighting myself searching for the truth I was looking for when it was right in front of me if I chose to see it. I ignored the advice of my handpicked gender therapist (one of the few I could find back in those days) who told me she could do nothing about me wanting to be a woman but could do something about my manic depression. Which I always had thought was something to do with my gender dysphoria. She told me it wasn’t and helped me by prescribing medications to help me in everyday life. At the time, it turned out, I was ready for help with my depression but not ready to face the facts about my gender future. I was used to loud sound from my days as a radio DJ and I was stubborn enough to want to hang on to a dual gendered life.

At the same time all of this was happening, I was beginning to explore the world as a novice transgender woman and learning every time I went out what the sound I was hearing really meant. I had life all backwards with my struggles to live a male life and the sound was telling me increasingly I was destined to be a woman all along. Not in the mold of having extensive major gender operations but doing it on my own schedule as I marched to my own drummer. Yet another sound which was growing in volume. Before I did though, I needed to undertake an extensive program of more exploration. I desperately did not want to make the move across the gender border at some point and find out I had made the biggest mistake of my life. My spouse, family and job meant so much to me, giving them up for no real reason scared me beyond belief.

Every time I began to have doubts about my upcoming gender decisions, my drumming sound grew louder as I felt more alive and natural when I was allowed behind the gender curtain with cisgender women. The work I was doing to prove myself to the world finally was paying off, for the most part. When I suffered a setback, I had the confidence and experience as a trans woman to do the right thing and move forward in my new life as I followed the sound of gender success. During this time, even though it is a blur to me now, I still remember that it all was not pleasant as I went through the turmoil of deciding which way I was going to turn next.

I know what you are thinking, what was she doing even thinking about turning her back on the gender future she had worked so hard to build. But I did as my male self stubbornly tried to drown out the sound my feminine life was making. Perhaps desperately would be a better term because of all the male privilege he had built up. He was desperate to hold off any more change.

Finally, the sound of change became deafening to the point where it could not be ignored anymore. I was not getting any younger and my transgender transition clock was ticking, loudly. As I had a huge heart to heart talk to myself, I came up with the decision to seek a doctor’s approval for HRT or gender affirming hormones as a natural progression of my feminine progress. In addition, I decided the hormones (if my body responded positively to them) would be the point of no return. I would have to come up with a different way to support myself financially, plus gather the courage to tell what was left of my family the truth about myself. As it turned out, the hormones began to feminize me faster than I ever thought possible and soon it became increasingly difficult to hide my protruding breasts, longer hair and softer skin than ever before. Long story short, my daughter accepted me and my brother rejected me as I revealed my life to them so I had the best of all worlds with the support of my daughter.

Ironically, one of the changes I went through was I had a greater, deeper appreciation of sound and music as a transfeminine person. I had gone full circle in my life understanding what that sound was and better, yet what it meant to me.

I always loved being right when it mattered most, and it did when I relaxed and listened to the sound of my gender spirit. I should give all the credit where credit is due…to the little sound inside of me who said keep trying when the going gets rough. Through the good times and the bad times, she was always there to help me survive.