Up the Down Gender Slide

 

Image from Abbs Johnson
on UnSplash.

Maybe you remember Ralphie (In a Christmas Story movie) who desperately wanted a BB Gun for Christmas and froze up when he was in a department store telling Santa what he wanted for the big day. What happened was Ralphie got kicked down the slide when Santa told him he was getting a football. Finally, Ralphie struggled his way back up the downslide and told Santa he really wanted a BB Gun and was then told he would shoot his eye out.

This scene paralleled my life in several ways. The main one was, I never asked for a BB Gun but got one anyway and secondly, I never asked Santa for the baby doll I really wanted. In many ways, the whole idea of struggling up the down slide when I considered my gender became routine. Instead of shooting my eye with a BB Gun, I became more concerned with hurting my eyes with my mascara stick. Plus, when I tried to hide my cross-dressing activities from my second wife, I tried to be more effective in removing all of my eye makeup so my wife couldn’t tell. It was a challenge to say the least. But not the biggest challenge of all.

First, I needed to break all the male tendencies I had built up over the years. How did I present as a trans woman, all the way to how did I move and communicate. I knew ciswomen operated on a different wavelength than men but how different I never planned on. For example, the amount of nonverbal communication between women surprised me. I quickly learned to watch for the visual cues I picked up when I was in a potentially dangerous situation, I was not aware of.

Ironically, the more I struggled to go up the down slide, the more slippery it became. I had to become more mentally tough as a transfeminine person to even survive in a potentially hostile world. It meant going back to the drawing board when I was pushed down the up-gender slide even more. By mentally tough I mean with my resources, facial feminization would not be possible and there was nothing I could ever do about the testosterone poisoned thick male body, I would have to work with what I had. That damn slide was not going to get to me. What I did do though, was put myself on a highly effective diet which ended up in me losing approximately fifty pounds as well as beginning to take better care of my skin after I shaved every day. By doing better skin care, I was able to use less makeup and look more natural.

With these changes, I was able to actually start climbing up my gender slide, so that someday maybe I could get the baby doll I wanted to have instead of a BB Gun. Mentally, at least.

Other changes I had to make as I climbed to the top of my gender slide was conquering my fear of heights. There came times when I thought I was moving too fast, and I was in danger of losing all my hard-earned male privileges such as family, marriage, jobs and friends. I did not want to beat myself and my male self-had me looking over my shoulder. Then I resolved to never stop working towards my goal of transgender womanhood and moving on to a totally different goal of being able to interact more effectively with the ciswomen I met. I always called it playing in the girls’ sandbox.

Maybe it was my gender paranoia weighing in on me, but I kept seeing potential problems coming at me when I was out of the mirror and into the world. Some turned out to be real, but most were not. I found I did not meet as many gender bigots or anti-transgender ciswomen TERFs as I thought I would. Men were for the most part always standoffish and ciswomen just were not for whatever reason. Maybe, in their own ways, they had climbed their own gender slides and understood what I was going through and did not mind sharing with me.

If you are starting your own gender slide, or even reaching the top, just remember the trip will never be easy. But to coin a saying, if it was easy, would have it been worth it. I know for me; it was the toughest trip of my life. Plus, you are human and will make a mistake on occasion. Especially, when you are not allowed behind the gender curtain to learn the basics cisgender women were raised with. At that point in time, it is up to you to climb your slide and thrive. Not just survive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Halloween and Me

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Nsshti on UnSplash.

Even though it has been years since I have been to a Halloween party at all, it still fills a special place in my heart.

The main reason it will is because it was the first time in my life that I was able to really explore if I could possibly make it to my dream of ever living like a woman on my own terms. In the recent past, I have written about the very first parties I went to dressed as a slutty, trashy woman, attempting in my own backwards way to be sexy. Also, when I started to go to Halloween dressed as me, I was doing it around people who knew me as a man, so I needed to put up with the idea in their mind that I was some sort of a jokester. When of course I was dead serious. One memorable evening took me to the freshly restored Ohio Theatre in downtown Columbus, Ohio for a midnight Halloween showing of the original “Dracula” movie, complete with background music from the original theatre organ. I went with my first wife who already knew I was a cross dresser and two other friends. I ended up having a fabulous time in my heels, hose and minidress surrounded by many other attendees in costume. The only problem I had was walking as long as I did in my heels. I was still too new to the cross-dressing style game to think ahead about my footwear if I needed to walk very far.

As the years and Halloween’s moved by, my whole focus began to shift about my potential “costume” I was planning on wearing. I began to move away from the trashy costumes I wore in the past, and into “costume” ideas another ciswoman would wear. At the same time, I stopped going to parties with my friends and began going to big clubs where I could see if I could blend in. It all was working out well until one night I was stopped by a guy wearing a full mask telling me he knew who I was. I was in shock and asked him how he knew, and he told me I looked like my mom. It turned out he grew up with me down the road and knew both of my parents. I was relieved as I was proud of my “French Girl Costume.” Which meant I was dressed all in black. Including a new pair of black tights, flats, blond hair and a black beret I purchased for a dollar at a thrift store. Other than being rudely recognized, I had another great time, and the evening ended too soon.

A few of my final Halloween parties I went to proved to me that I could possibly make it in the world as a transfeminine person. One was by pure accident and one I had planned ahead for. The pure accidental party was the one I recently wrote about which happened when I lived in the New York City metro area. Out of nowhere, I was invited by one of my female managers to a Halloween party her and her friends were going to at a nearby tavern, to her house. I don’t know why, but I decided to back slide in my “costume” idea and go to the party dressed a little on the slutty side. Mini skirt, heels, blond wig and all. It turned out all of her friends who were going were approximately as tall as I was and were all dressed to thrill also. What a surprise I had when I found I could blend in with all of them. The only problem I had was my second wife not approving of my “costume” even though she did not want to go. Life around the house was a bit frosty for a while.

The last major Halloween party I went to was a planned affair. I was invited to a party at a vintage restored Victorian mansion, along with a news girl who I worked with at the local radio station.  I was married to my first wife then and she did not care who I went with, so I planned to go as a professional woman just getting off of work. Just to see if I could. I did with a couple a write about often who thought I was a woman and were so entranced with me, they invited me to another party they were going to. I did not go but stayed and had a great time at a fabulous party.

Sadly, all my fun went away when I fully transitioned into being a transgender woman. Instead of putting on some sort of “costume” and going out into the world, I was just being me, and an exciting part of my life was behind me. Forever to be remembered fondly in my mind.

 

 

 

  

Do "It" or Die

 

Image from Claudia Love
on UnSplash.  

I find it humorous when a gender bigot or some sort of other hater thinks transgender women or trans men had a choice when they decided to transition into the gender they should have always been.

The haters conveniently overlook the fact we trans people spend a lifetime of discontent over our gender dysphoria. In my case, the dysphoria invaded my already frail mental health and nearly destroyed it and me. I suffered from being born into the pre-internet “dark ages” where information on gender issues in particular was very hard to come by. It took years of my life before I was formally diagnosed with dysphoria and even worse, a bi-polar disorder.

It all started when I spent my days off work in bed, not wanting to move at all and forcing myself to work to keep my job. Of all people, the first real gender therapist I had diagnosed my problem when I brought it up in a conversation we were having. She ended up telling me she could prescribe medications for my depression but not for me wanting to be a woman. I should have listened to her and took more action than just cross dressing when she told me that. I was still stubborn though, and my male side thought he could conquer all. Setting up an internal war I would fight for years. I was fortunate when the prescribed medications worked with my depression but not so fortunate when they did absolutely nothing when it came to me wanting to be a woman. In other words, my gender therapist was right.

In the meantime, as my gender war raged on, I was out of my closet exploring the world to see if I could survive at all. As with any other novice, I had my good days and my bad days but something deep inside kept telling me to keep going because my survival was at risk. How much so, I still had not fully grasped.

As with anyone else, the years seemed to fly by and regardless of the unlikely idea I could ever achieve my dream of competing in and surviving in a transfeminine world successfully, I slowly was making it. Ironically, many times when I did make it, the trip up was not worth the trip down mentally. A prime example was the night I went to a cross dresser-transgender mixer on Long Island, New York and was forced to show proof I was actually a man before I was admitted to the mixer. Of course, I was on cloud nine for days after that before I crashed back down into my unwanted male world. I so badly wanted to take the next step in my transition but was afraid to do it which created extra pressure on me. Sadly, I took the pressure out on my second wife who I perceived as a problem when she did not understand what I wanted to do.

It turned out, I needed a ciswoman in my life to challenge me to do more than just look like a woman. She forced me into searching for the elusive lives’ ciswomen lead, and why they were so different than men. Still, I was stubborn and thought I had already put that research in until my path took me to a whole different gender world which I was never allowed to visit before. Until I tried and finally let in to see what my wife was talking about.

By this time, I was reaching the point in my life when all my explorations into womanhood were taking me as far as I could go. I was staring ahead at reaching my sixties and knew I was not getting any younger. It was time to try to be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT and take the next big step towards my dream life. If I did not, I may never have the chance to do it again. Plus, I was coming off the darkest moments in my life when everyone dear to me died (including my wife) and the only comfort I had was my inner feminine self. At that point, she showed me the reality of where I was in life.

As the pressure mounted to choose which direction my life would take at the age of sixty, I chose female and closed the book forever on my male self. At that point, I never looked back and took the pressure off myself. Finally, a wise move and somewhere I could hear my second wife saying I told you so. She did but I just did not listen. And, by the way, I still suffer from depression and from dysphoria but now I have learned to live with both of them by living the way I was born to be.

I did it before I died.

 

 

 

 

 

Gender "Muscle" Memory

 

Image from Jeremy Bishop
on UnSplash

Perhaps you have heard an elite athlete talk about having muscle memory when they play their sport. Especially professional baseball players who make a living off of hitting curve balls. Which has nothing to do with presenting as a transgender woman, or does it?

I remember the days when I was going through an unwanted male puberty, and I was so self-conscious of how I was walking as a man. I did not want to attract any bullies by thinking I was too effeminate. I must have been fairly successful because I rarely had any problems. I was just a boy who liked sports and cars and stayed under society’s bigotry radar.

Then, when I started to explore the feminine world, I needed to throw out all of my walk like a man training and start to mimic the distinctive walk of a woman the best I could. I took me a while to do it, but I finally came up with a transfeminine walk that did not look like a linebacker in drag. The problem became doing it enough to have it become muscle memory. Mainly because I was not doing it all the time. Spending a day as a transgender woman learning the world, then reverting back to being a man on a job which demanded control was literally mentally killing me. On the days I had to be a man, I felt as if I was in some sort of a gender fog as I could see and feel my dream of womanhood but could not quite achieve it.

What I did was try to practice my feminine muscle memory anytime I did not think anyone was watching. Big box stores later in the evening were my favorites because they were largely empty of other shoppers. Later I wonder if I made the store’s security cameras and they were amused by a man trying to walk like a woman. But, of course, I never found out because I was not doing anything wrong. At least I found out I was being a success as a novice woman when on a few occasions on my male days at work, I was referred to as a woman.

Finally, practice started to make a successful feminine presentation possible for me, and I started to relax when I was out of my closet and the mirror exploring the world. The only problem I ran into was when I became too comfortable and forgot what I was doing. Like the time I was walking through a mall not paying attention when one of my heels became stuck in a sidewalk crack and I twisted my ankle. Lesson learned as from then on, when I was wearing heels, to watch out for cracks in the sidewalks. Muscle memory the hard way.

Until I began to live my life increasingly more as a transgender woman was I able to put the image I always saw in the mirror into motion. The pretty pictures I was able to take of myself were one thing but surviving in the world of cisgender women was another. Every time I thought I had learned all I needed to know, something else came along to shock me into going farther. I was growing increasingly frustrated and again my fragile mental health was suffering. Until I found a good therapist to help me face my truth. I should never had attempted to assume the male role I was in and all of the muscle memory which came with it. All it solved was making my life more complex when I tried to change it and enter the feminine world for good.

Especially with the help of the gender affirming hormones I was approved to take, my confidence as a trans woman grew and any resistance to losing my old male muscle memory went away. I carved out a new life and even found away to be happy in it. I was similar to the very successful baseball player who is winning the world series as my outward motion fit my inward feminine feelings. Even the HRT hormones enabled me to develop my own hips I was so envious of on other women. Anything I could do to come closer to my dream was welcomed.

Having the gender muscle memory from so long ago is something I still think about to this day. Even though I am highly immobile. It was the way I could get started towards another huge step in my male to female gender transition.

 

Following the Gender Breadcrumbs

 

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on UnSplash.

Following the gender breadcrumbs in my life meant finding the brief moments of gender euphoria I experienced and running with them.

Even when the mirror provided me with euphoria with the rush I felt when I saw myself as a girl, the feelings seemed to be exceedingly short and frustrating. I had yet to figure out my longing for the feminine clothes I was wearing meant very little to me. What was more important was, could the cross-dressing process ever take me closer to my dream of living a transfeminine womanhood.

Along the way, there were times when the breadcrumbs almost disappeared totally, leaving me completely lost and back into my closet. In despair, as I looked around, I did find enough crumbs to keep me moving because I was slowly learning, failure was not an option. I could take many of the hard-earned lessons I learned in the male world, adapt them and use them in my new exciting feminine world. For example, I learned that even though men compete differently than women, there was an equally intense competition going on between the ciswomen in the world that men knew very little about. Way past just being concerned of another woman looked better than them.  Since I did not have to worry about that, it took one more problem away from me. I never thought I looked better than any cisgender woman and I was not that shallow anyway.

I had more important problems to worry about as I searched for breadcrumbs to guide me along the path, I was on to transgender womanhood. Afterall, I was seeking to accomplish one of the most difficult tasks a human attempt to do which is change one of the most basic needs a person has, and that is their gender. Starting all over and carving out a new life was daunting for me, and I needed all the help I could get. For some reason, I found myself with ciswomen who spread the gender breadcrumbs for me. I could sit back and observe how they conducted their lives, good and bad. From them, I could see not all was peaches and cream as a woman then decide if I still wanted to do it. Then structure my life the best I could. My biggest problem was throwing out and ignoring all the hard-earned male breadcrumbs I had accumulated. In fact, I had almost put together the entire loaf which I kept trying to break up and throw away.

The most positive aspect of my life became the nights I went out with my lesbian and transgender woman friends, and we actually enjoyed ourselves so much we began to do it more and more. My breadcrumbs became easier to follow because I was different to my friends. I was not quite a full-fledged ciswoman as they were, but on the other hand, I was far from being a man they stayed away from. I was certainly baking my new loaf as a transgender woman with the help of my inner self who had been with me all the way and was just waiting to be set free.  It seemed most all of my dark lonely nights were finally behind me again in life. This time, on the side of the gender border I so long had waited for to open.

Wherever you are on your gender path, I hope it is lit well enough for you to see your breadcrumbs and have enough gender euphoria to get you by until you face another learning experience. I know, at times, the entire experience will seem overwhelming and hopeless. But the light at the end of the tunnel does not have to be the train and again I point out what a difficult path you are trying to follow. Risking, spouses, families, friends and jobs are never easy and is intimidating to say the least.  That is why if took me till the age of sixty to take the leap of faith I always wanted to do…live as a woman on my own terms.

It is important to note, you are doing the search on your own terms and the nay-sayers who like to point out you will never be a ciswoman are right. You can’t, but you can reach a womanhood of your own making.

Best wishes to finding all of your breadcrumbs along your path, and reaching your dream.

 

 

 

Passing Through Customs

 

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Passing through gender customs was one of the most difficult things I have ever done in my life. Relax, this is not another post where I slam the orange pedo/felon tearing down our country as I write...What I mean is, when the time and effort I took to finally blend in with all the ciswomen around became worth it.

 For the longest time, I thought passing customs just meant looking better than the average woman in the world. Then I discovered I needed to be better because I was a transgender woman. I could not get away with wearing no makeup and jeans like the other women around me if I was to pass their inspection. Don’t get me wrong, I did not have to wear heels and hose all the time to make it through customs, I just purchased jean skirts rather than jeans from my local thrift store and did very well with the new fashion I discovered. I was not wearing pants of any sort which I loved and still made it through customs wearing a skirt which flattered my legs.

Then I found wearing a simple skirt rather than pants was the easy part of customs. My first actual experience in passing a checkpoint as a trans woman came when a woman friend invited me to a NFL Football game in Cincinnati. In order to be admitted, I needed to be patted down by another woman who just smiled at me and then checked the extremely small purse I was carrying. She made it quick, smiled at me and let me on my way, terrified and all. By the time I began to breathe again it was game time, and I had other less scary distractions such as when and how I was going to use the women’s restroom. The whole evening really gave me confidence in my new self and how my future as a transgender woman could look.

Of course, I would be remiss if I did not bring up the most important point of all when I needed to actually talk and communicate with the other ciswomen who were inspecting me. The worst part was I was really shy and had put off any practice I could with my voice and eye contact. For the sake of repetition, I have always referred to the process of communication as being able to play in the girl’s sandbox. To make my life easier, I did my best to make sure there were as few girls as possible in the sandbox when I played in case something went wrong, and I needed to escape. Fortunately, I never did and was allowed to play.

For what they are worth, my words of wisdom are, when you start your journey in the world as a transfeminine person, always assume you will be going through customs of some sort. Women are always examined by other women from head to toe and by men also. So, get ready. It was a world which I was not used to because as a man, I rarely if ever, looked at what other men were wearing. On the other hand, women will notice what you are wearing if you can’t pass customs. Try not to be intimidated and enjoy the process as much as you can. It is what you signed up for.

It is also a positive if you can go through the process of having your legal gender markers changed. I had most of mine done years ago when I had not made the transition from transgender woman to trans woman senior citizen. I was more worried about being pulled over while I was driving and not having an ID which did not say female on it. Plus, not that it matters so much here in fascist Ohio, this year, the heavily manipulated legislature is trying to circumvent any gender markers on ID’s a person may have. Which means, as I understand it, in the future, I could be confronted and harassed by the authorities for simply using the restroom. Customs passing is getting harder and harder around here.

I read many posts and experiences from transgender women and men who are confronted when they have tried to pass customs, and it is not pleasant. In fact, it has led many to resort to measures such as genital realignment surgery to make them feel whole in their chosen gender. I myself, for various reasons, have not resorted to any surgeries, mainly because I am fortunate to have found many supportive allies over the years, I could surround myself with. More than anything else, they gave me courage when I needed to pass through gender customs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All that And More

 

JJ Hart

When I jumped from the cross-dressing world and I went into the public, I found myself in a situation where all that was more in my life.

Why? Because I was very naïve about how the two binary genders react to each other. In my relatively sheltered male life, naturally I had only experienced life from the male side only, and I was trying my best to make all I could out of it. To make matters even worse, I was so shy I could barely talk to girls at all. So, I never had any experience with them. No experience led to no confidence which sent me further into my shell.

I used my shell to protect myself the best I could and give the best impression I could that I was a so-called normal boy. For years, I fought the good male fight and internalized all of my feminine feelings. In the meantime, I was studying the girls and women around me, daydreaming of the day I could be just like them. My gender workbook was blank at the time, and I should have hung a sign on me saying “no experience necessary to survive.” In the meantime, I immersed myself in sports and cars and appeared to the outside world as a normal young male. There I go, using the “normal” word again, when I know now, there just isn’t such a thing.

It took me years of trying to break out of my shell or closet and tentatively go out into the world as a girl. I started at night by going to places I knew would be deserted but then again had big windows where I could still see my dim reflection. I was actually headed to a book/magazine store where I could hopefully navigate the books but never had the courage to do it and ended up going back home deeply disappointed in myself. Slowly, I resolved to do better but I never did make it into that particular store. Instead, I began to explore the world of women’s clothing stores where I found any number of helpful clerks who were more than willing to look past my gender, and into my available money.

After I realized that the women’s clothing stores were too easy on me and did not present a challenge, I began to branch out and try to look for more challenging venues. I came up with the plan to stop for lunch when I went out cross-dressed, just to see what would happen. I discovered that when I was dressed to blend in with the rest of the cisgender women around be, I was able to interact with the servers waiting on me. More importantly, I was beginning to realize, it was easier for me to talk one on one with another woman than it ever was when I was a man. It was a huge point in my life which ranked right up with realizing I was much more than a male wanting to wear feminine clothes on occasion. It would lead the way to me discovering I could live the transfeminine life I had always dreamed of.

In many ways, I was able to channel the pure fear I felt when I went out for the first time as my true authentic self and turn it into energy I used to further my communication skills with the public at large, and women in particular who seemed to be more receptive to me because I was in their world. Before I knew it, I was able to settle down and begin to enjoy my new life as a transgender woman. To be sure, I was different than most everyone else I encountered but I wanted desperately to make it a positive difference. Mainly because nearly everyone I met had never known another transgender woman or trans man in their life. I just had to make our meeting a special occasion which was all of that, and more.

In return, I was learning valuable lessons from the ciswomen I met. In ways they never realized, the women helped me discover the wonderful world of my own womanhood. In doing so, I was able to navigate the pitfalls of my male to female transition and always move on to higher ground.

When I did, I went on to discover the layers of life women live in during their lives which they hide from men. My life went from chasing a dream to living it as I discovered a transgender woman’s life was all that and more.

 

Gender Lost and Found

 

Image from Patrick Hawlick
on UnSplash.  

Navigating the path of lost and found is often very difficult for a transgender woman or transgender man. Speaking for me only, my path was filled with many holes and dead ends before I ever saw any success.

Perhaps, even more frustrating was the fact that once I thought I had made a significant move forward, I would hit a brick wall and be rejected again, and desperation set in. Too many times, at the beginning of my feminine experience when I had no clue of what I was doing wrong when I had enough courage to leave my dark closet. It finally occurred to me that I had had enough of my frustrating existence as a man. Sadly, some days I was on my transfeminine game. Some days not so much as there was so much to learn. Such as, on the days when my makeup, hair and wardrobe looked presentable, I caught myself making the same old male scowl I had perfected to keep the world away. It got so bad, I even had a little girl point me out to her mom by saying “Look at the big MEAN woman” Not the image I wanted to portray but at least I passed the woman part. The gender cup was half full, and I had learned a valuable lesson.

My biggest challenge was putting together my feminine image once I succeeded in getting it out of the mirror. The mirror was always kind to me by telling me just what I wanted to hear. While the public was brutally honest with me and they were my mirror. Sometimes I found what I was looking for and was accepted as a trans woman, and some days I wasn’t. The classic lost and found. My goal always was to keep my gender finds much more frequent than my losses. What I never knew was how difficult that would be. I thought I had a good understanding of what a woman’s life would be all about, until I learned how wrong I was. It seemed my lessons were like peeling back the layers of an onion. Even to the point of shedding tears when I was not successful.

The more I followed the obscure gender signs on my path, the more of my male life I lost and of course, he hated it. With the hate came an alliance with my second wife to stop me from finding more of my transgender self. The two on one battle was never fair, but I knew I would have to fight it anyway for my self-survival. The ultimate lost and found was at stake for me. I had a life to lose when I transitioned as I faced the very real reality of losing my marriage, family, friends and employment. On the other hand, I faced the growing reality I could live out my lifetime dream of living as a woman on my terms.

Ultimately, I discovered I uncovered a life so rich and full, I wondered how I had ever lived without it before. Of course, I am referring to my new life as a transgender woman. I found my unique life between the two main binary genders gave me a perspective on life that many others just don’t have. I never lost my knowledge of what men think, while at the same time gaining an idea of what women were thinking too. In fact, several women I knew after I transitioned reached out to me for ideas about problems they were having with their men. I knew I had finally arrived and had gained more than I had ever lost.

As I could see the distant finish line on my gender path, I picked up speed and did things such as start gender affirming hormones or HRT. The hormones never made me transgender but helped me to sync up my internal gender issues. I was so fortunate when the doctor said I was healthy enough to start his hormonal program. Minimal dosage or not, I was on my way again.

Even though, I don’t think I would wish gender lost and found on anyone, for me, what I went through made life interesting. Just to understand in my own way what ciswomen go through in their lives as close as I could took me closer to my goal of jumping to what I saw as the side of the gender border, I wanted to be on. I even lived through the old “bait and switch” side of life when I thought I was being successful, but I wasn’t. Ultimately, learning more and more transgender lessons as I did.

 

 

 

If I was a Betting Person

 

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UnSplash.

In my life, I have never been much of a betting person at all.

In addition, there were many times I would have bet against myself when I thought of ever making it to my dream of being a fulltime transgender woman. I had a real problem remembering all the negatives I encountered when I first left my closet and went out into the world. As I always mention, my gender woman’s workbook was totally blank when I started my life. The only fact which was rapidly becoming sure to me was that was I positive something was wrong with me.

Probably the only thing I would have been certain of was the gender issue I dealt with was deep and very complicated. Had I known how to bet on it, I would have. The only thing I would never bet on was I had my life completely backwards. Since I was born into a male world, I stayed there way too long. Staying on course to be the best man I could.

For awhile I thought I was successful in my male life as I held the bullies at bay by playing sports and working on cars. The proof was when I finally did work through my issues and transitioned, the very few people who knew the old male me were totally surprised when I told them. Proof I hid my true self very well, often sadly. I was hiding myself too well and, in the meantime, hurting my already frail mental health.

By this time, my male self was betting against any idea I could ever come out into the world as a transfeminine person. In fact, he did not know what the term meant. Following the adversity I went through coming out, he found out what perfecting our new life was all about. It was about going out as much as I could and exploring an exciting, yet scary, new world. It was about buckling up and staying the gender course I was on, when the times got rough. Which was often. I never had any of the feminine attributes a few cross dresser or transgender women had, so my path was often difficult.

As I became better at my feminine presentation, I began to think my dream was possible after all. I could even bet on it. For once, the optics of gender were working for me. Controlling the optics took a lot of work when I was rejected as a woman for so long. I would have pulled my chips back off the table and headed home. The big difference now was, I was able to outbluff others around me and stay in the game. I am sure no one mistook me as a cisgender woman, but on the other hand, no one was mistaking me as some sort of a bogus person trying to fool the public as a beginning drag queen. Betting on myself as an authentic person turned out to be the best move, I ever made in my life.

A good plan went a long way as I was able to carve out a new life in a relatively short time. I was not as shy as I was as a man and the world opened for me. After many false starts, success began to happen. I was staying out of my own way as a trans woman and letting my inner woman run my life.

I also learned where I was welcome to be a betting person in the world. For the most part, cisgender women accepted me in their world and let me play. Men, on the other hand, never wanted to bet me on anything. Which I quickly learned was not important to me after all. As long as other women validated me, that was all that mattered and again, my life improved.

Pushing my chips to the middle of my life’s gender table and betting I could make it to my dream I always wanted to live was all that mattered. Doing away with my conservative past helped me immeasurably during this portion of my life. I did not view myself as being any sort of courageous person. Just a person who had to do what she had to do to survive in a challenging world. The question became how fast I could learn the new rules of being a woman on my own terms. Decoding the difference between male and female privileges was the biggest challenge.

At that point, the betting game I was playing became closer to a game of mental gender chess. As an excuse, I kept telling myself I was not betting at all. Just playing the odds, I was right when it came to gender. When I expected I would make it as a transgender woman I did. I finally was right when I bet on myself.

 

 

 

 

 

Here Comes Tomorrow

 

My wife Liz, anniversary image.

Liz and I’s wedding anniversary was yesterday, and of course we had to go out and celebrate the event. It is actually our third anniversary after being together well over a decade.

Over the time I have written this blog, I hope I have not been short on trying to relay what my wife Liz has done for me. So much, as a matter of fact, she kicked me totally out of my closet, and showed me tomorrow was here. I could live a life as a transgender woman, finally free from my old male self. She was the direct opposite from my second wife who kept telling me there was no way she wanted to live with another woman. Liz told me she saw no male in me at all, and the rush was on to complete my male to female transition.

By the time all of this happened, and my second wife passed away, I was well into my sixties and had given up any hope of ever finding another serious relationship. Preferably with another woman who would accept me. As I always point out, to combat my severe loneliness, I was working the bar scene and even tried online dating which turned out to be a joke…until I met Liz. Or she met me. She responded to a “woman seeking woman” ad I put on a dating site and as luck would have it, she lived relatively close to me in Cincinnati. At the time she commented on the picture I used, saying I had sad eyes. Which I did, seeing as how I was going through the toughest time of my life. I had just lost my wife of twenty-five years as well as nearly all of the close friends I had to death as well as losing my business. I was grasping at any straw I could to stay afloat, sad eyes or not.

The only main straw I had was my sudden dependence on my strong inner feminine self. In a time of darkness, when my male self-had deserted me, she stepped up to provide the comfort and strength to move on. It was up to her to carve out a new life with new friends who had no previous contact at all with my old male self. Against all odds, in a sometimes-hostile world, she managed to do it, and my life slowly began to improve. With all the help and attention, I was receiving from my new ciswomen friends, I did not have to even give much of a second thought to the men who were afraid to approach me or just wanted to treat me as some sort of a fetish object. With my base sexuality settled again, it made it easier to feel secure in myself and move on with my male to female transition. Often it seemed my life was coming full circle and Liz was a major part of it.

During our anniversary dinner last night, we were fortunate that the venue was very empty without even the usual screaming kids so we could reminisce about our past and dream about the future. And of course, Liz took all the credit (as she always does) for reaching out to me first as a “woman seeking woman” post was an exceedingly rare response coming from any other women in those days. Plus, I was not shy in pointing out I was a transgender woman made my odds even more remote. If I received any responses at all, I felt like I had won the lottery of dating as a trans woman.

Because of Liz, I won the lottery for all the reasons I went into and more importantly, my gender transition which was always tomorrow became today. It was time to give away my remaining male clothes and follow Liz’s instructions on following my heart. A heart, it turned out, was feminine to start with and needed little to no encouragement to live. Regardless, when tomorrow finally came, it hit me hard and I needed time to adjust I really did not have. I needed to fall back on the decades of cross-dressing practice I had to feel more comfortable in the world. When I did, the joy of life I experienced was wonderful and even more so because I had someone special to share it with.

To be able to live the way I do still feels like a dream to me and Liz has helped me to realize my transfeminine dream more than anybody else ever did in my previous life.

Happy anniversary Liz and may we be able to celebrate many more together. And, thanks to all of you who have joined me in my journey. If you have not reached your tomorrow yet, keep trying. I am living proof it can still happen.

 

Pause and Reflect

 

Image from UnSplash.

Yesterday, as I waited for the doctor to see me, I had a chance to pause and reflect on my long gender journey so far.

In doing so, I had the opportunity to think about how scared I was in the early days of going to the doctor as well as other things. Naturally, I discovered some other things I was trying in the new world I was in, totally over my head at times. On occasion, I don’t think I point out enough how little I had to work with when I started my male to female gender journey. I was from a very male dominated family so there were no understanding moms or sisters to help me. In addition, my body was very testosterone poisoned which meant I had no effeminate body parts to work with, except my legs which I received several compliments on at various Halloween parties I went to as a woman. While I was flattered by the attention, I rapidly became more paranoid. I began to take compliments on my legs by thinking the people left out the part that I had on my legs as I had good legs as a man dressed as a woman.

As I reflect on those confusing days, I wondered how I had continued to persist as well as I did. I guess the reason was because what I was considering doing felt so natural even though it was so scary to me. I spent hours and hours pausing my life and reflecting on where I wanted to go. Too many hours, to be exact as I needed to be careful, I was missing out on my regular life as a man. Even though I did not worry about losing my male life the way it was. I wanted him to go away, but I needed to make sure I did it right. In doing so, I was selfish. I wanted to keep some of my male privilege and transition at the same time. All I did was hurt myself and those around me in the short and long term.

In the short term, I knew had problems dressing my body as a woman. I had the overweight thick torso and broad shoulders to worry about which would not go away no matter how much I attempted to display my legs. I was doomed to failure by wearing too many short miniskirts. My male ego was working overtime, and it cost me many embarrassing moments in the public’s eye before I finally learned my lesson and learned to blend with the percentage of the world I really needed to deal with, which were the other women. It is like the other women I dealt with at the VA yesterday, I made sure I thanked all of them for being there, and they really appreciated it and treated me better. In the past, I would have been too shy to do such a thing.

As I continued to reflect on my past evolution of my transfeminine person, I remembered again how self-conscious I was on my early visits to the VA clinics I went to for care. I was so afraid of being stared at, all the way to being laughed at. Which I never actually was. It took me several years of progress to overcome where I was in life. It took me the visits I made to the venues I went to when I left the gay bar scene I was involved with and moved on after I was tired of being mistaken for a drag queen. Which I had nothing against, but it just wasn’t me.

At this point, I was wondering exactly what to do. Some I have talked to mentioned the “courage” word with me when I thought of going out in the world. On the other hand, I thought pursuing a transgender life was in many ways, my destiny I had been working on for decades. As I reflected, I thought how right I was. From the mirror to the world, I had carefully followed my path and just had to keep doing it. Or, instead of courage, I would never forgive myself if I had never tried to try out living my dream. Especially when I had proved to myself that I could do it. I had a giant inferiority complex concerning my entire life as a trans woman which I had to conquer.

By this time, my doctor was ready to see me, and I needed to return to the reality of today’s world. At the advanced age of seventy-six, I view each annual exam as very important of course. Even though it was invading my time to pause and reflect.

 

Down the Transgender Rabbit Hole

Going down the transgender rabbit hole was difficult for me.

The hole I chose was very dark, and full of dead-end passages before I ever had the chance to see any daylight. As I pursued my long-term dream of living as a woman, I needed to go through quite a few serious changes. In my rabbit hole, there was very little to no help. Especially, any guidance initially from other girls or women around me. It took me years to quit being a victim of my gender issues and make them an opportunity, as I scrambled around my rabbit hole to make it more comfortable.

Of course, it never became more comfortable, and exactly the opposite was true. The further down I dug, the darker my life became. Out of desperation, I searched for my gender daylight. Way past the annual Halloween parties I was going to dressed completely as a woman. Once a year in the public’s eye just wasn’t going to make it for me anymore. I needed other outlets to test how I was doing as a transgender woman. Novice or not. When I was out for the longest time, I felt like the rabbit which was being circled by a hawk. I was so unsure in my new high heels, I could not have run if I had wanted to. I was forced to stay and get abused early on.

I guess I was lucky that my abuse was relatively mild in nature as compared to what it could have been. I was just stared at and laughed at for the most part, until I learned to blend in with the ciswoman world at large. As I did though, I was sent flying down my transgender rabbit hole in tears as my progress was slow. At that point, two things happened. The first was, my hole became my gender safe place where no one could reach me. I was always the pretty girl I wanted to be. The other was the unforgettable sensation of why I was attempting such a crazy journey to start with. I was fairly successful in the male life I never really asked for, so why rock the boat and risk drowning.

Another important lesson I learned was my perception of a woman's life was all wrong. It was like I was watching a slide show on the walls of my rabbit hole when I viewed women. It was not until I tested the daylight of the world, did I realize the truth of what I was about to face. The most important truth I learned was how completely women interacted with men in the world and how innately strong they were. I wondered how and when I could ever fit in as a transfeminine person. I found the only way to learn was to do it and see if I would ever be let in to play in the girls’ sandbox.

To finally make my way into the sandbox, I needed to extend my rabbit hole even farther than I ever had imagined. Since I was always inherently shy, learning to look another woman in the eye and communicate with her was always so difficult for me. It took me years to have the confidence to believe in myself and do it. The most frustrating part was when I thought I had my new life all together, something else would come along to destroy my dream. My rabbit hole had collapsed and needed to be rebuilt. Once I accepted the new challenge of transgender womanhood, I moved on and rebuilt my rabbit hole larger and stronger than ever before.

As transgender women and trans men, we all have our rabbit holes to negotiate. Some are similar, some are not but along the way, we all end up giving away something that is precious to us. Sadly too, some of us discovered our rabbit hole was too deep or built so poorly we had to turn back. I’m referring to the so-called “detransitioners” who the gender bigots and TERFS love to use us as an example of failure in the transgender community. I believe the number of people in the community is much lower than the bigots like to point out, so it doesn’t really matter that much to those of us who have carved out a new life when we left our rabbit holes and carved out a new life.

Sure, it was never easy doing all that work, but in the end, it was so worth it to achieve a dream and stay out of the old hole I had built myself forever.

 

 

  

In the Wrong Room?

 

JJ Hart ahead of first Girl's Night Out.

When I first jumped out of my dark closet and into the bright world, I wondered if I had jumped into the wrong room.

There are other words for my feelings such as impostor syndrome, but I was not far enough along in my transgender development to know them. All I did know was I was feeling ill at ease when I was with another group of women. Which was nearly fatal mistake when it came to being accepted. I discovered how perceptive ciswomen were in their world and could spot a fake miles away. So, I worked hard to show them my truth. I really wanted to earn my way into their world.

It took quite a bit of work and time but slowly I began to be invited to special girls’ nights outs. I never turned down an invitation no matter how terrified I was of going until I began to feel as if I was not in the wrong room after all. It helped when I paid attention to what the other women were doing and saying, and I tried to do the same. As I suspected, the conversations revolved around family and kids, so even though I could not share any birth stories, I could talk about my daughter as a loving parent. A door was opening for me to enter a world I had always dreamed of as an equal, and I cherished my opportunity to learn.

I discovered too that most of the other invitees accepted me easily except for a few I rather not mention. No matter how much they glared at me, I was able to ignore them and have a good time. I was learning I had as much of a reason to be in the room as they did, an invitation from the alpha female gatekeeper who I respected completely for her diverse beliefs. In her life, she was her own contradiction in terms as I saw her. Primarily a strong Christian woman who accepted me for who I was.

On the other hand, men were a completely different story. From the time I started my male to female transition, I was ushered out of the boy’s club I had become a comfortable member of. I learned relatively quickly on the few dates I went out on with men to be quiet and let them lead. No matter how mundane the subject, and how much I knew about it. It worked as I settled into a new world having a lesser IQ. My dates were so rare with men that I never had a chance to feel the chill of being kicked out into a new world I always wanted to live in.

In short, I was thriving in my world and all thoughts of being in the wrong gender room went away. I was in no way an impostor and I deserved to be there. Rather than having a fancy new handbag, I had a fancy new confidence to go with everything else good which was happening for me.

Sadly, the only remaining problems were the same massive ones I refused to face. What was I going to do about my spouse who did not want to live with a woman, all the way to how I was going to support myself financially if I decided to jump the gender border from a male life, I was successful at, to a female one which was largely untested. Helping me along was the knowledge of knowing from all my ciswoman interaction in the real world was successful. It would be difficult, but I knew deep down I could make it. Mainly because the whole process seemed so natural to me.

Finally, I realized I was living my whole life backwards. I was always fighting the idea I was a man trying to be a woman. When in fact the opposite was true. I was a woman all along trying to be a man. It was no wonder I did not feel at home in either of the two main binary genders, male and female. And until I chose the right room, my life and mental health would never improve.

It seemed destiny was on my side as I made the journey into the transfeminine gender side of life. To arrive I had the cruel death of my wife (as well as other close friends to deal with) plus closing my business to overcome. Against all odds, my wife Liz found me online of all places and helped me to rebuild my shattered life. I was able to locate the proper feminine room and stay there.

National Coming Out Day

 

National Coming Out Day is today around here.

Of significance to me is the input I was asked to provide in my Veteran’s Administration LGBTQ support group. In the group, there are equal members from the gay, lesbian, and transgender communities. Yesterday, I was asked when I came out.

I said I came out when I was sixty, or sixteen years ago. Then came the questions of how I actually made the decision to come out in the world as a transgender woman. Since my time to explain was relatively short for such a complex subject. I did my best to explain all the nuances of giving up a male life I worked so hard to maintain. Then I needed to try to explain the unorthodox way I did it. I wished for the freedom of having the written word to do it, so I jumped right in and quickly started how I left the gay bar scene and went to the straight sports bar scene, just to prove I could. Making it all concise was an issue but I did the best I could.

Then the questions shifted to how or who helped me on the special day when I decided to give up all my male clothes, start gender affirming hormones and come out. That person was my wife of ten years plus, Liz. They asked how we met, and I said she literally picked me up on an on-line dating site called “Zoosk.” The lesbians in the group enjoyed the story saying it took a good woman to finally help me coming out. Which I said was true.

I appreciated the fact that the LGBTQ group wanted to hear my story, and I tried to mention all of us are different. If you are considering coming out, naturally it is one of the biggest decisions you will ever make in your life. We have to sacrifice family, friends, jobs and more to live our dreams. There is also a new transgender woman in the group who felt safe enough to explain her gender issues last week. Her story meant a lot to me and I appreciated her tears of joy of being able to talk to someone else about her coming out story.

No matter where you are on your coming out journey, hopefully you will have the support you need to achieve your goal. Remember, it is a marathon not a sprint and there may be many bumps and dead ends along the way for you.

For those of you who have come out, hopefully you are able to live your best life. Congratulations! Now with the current anti transgender climate from the orange Russian asset, we need you more than ever before.

 

 

No Addiction...Just Fact

 

Image from Yumu on
UnSplash.

Perhaps many of you went through the same misgivings about our male to female transitions as I did.

First, I felt it was a simple fetish with the new feminine clothes I was trying to wear. Then, when I outgrew the fetish idea along with mom’s clothes, I needed to try to determine exactly what was going on with me and my gender issues. With no help, and stuck in a very dark closet, I felt alone with no one to talk to. Thank goodness for the “Transvestia” publication by Virginia Prince coming into my life by pure accident which gave me hope for the future. There were others like me who wanted to look like women and have mixers with each other. If only I could make it to one, maybe some of my gender questions could be answered. While entertaining, the mixers I discovered which were close enough for me to attend, did not really answer many of my deep-seated questions. Such as why I was wearing women’s clothes as much as possible. Was I addicted to the clothes or was something else going on.

It did turn out that something much deeper with me was going on. It took me years to figure out the truth. Something much deeper was going on with me and my deeply held gender issues which should not have been problems at all, if I had faced up to them. I was not addicted to looking like a woman, the fact was, I wanted to find my own version of being a woman.

Then the real search for my identity began, as I finally had the courage to open my closet door and go out. In the beginning, ever so briefly until I built up my confidence as a novice transgender woman. Ironically, back then, the term transgender had not been widely used. There were only transvestites (or cross dressers) and transsexuals who wanted to have major surgeries called sex changes. Through this period of my life, I had the uneasy feeling I did not really fit into the transvestite or transsexual mold. I was different and still confused. All the diverse parties I attended were not helping me decide where I really fit.

Still, I kept trying to find my way, and I kept meeting more and more people on the gender spectrum at the parties I went to. From cross dresser admirers to impossibly feminine transsexuals, to the occasional lesbian, I was able to broaden my knowledge of the gender world as I knew it and further research where I belonged. By meeting all of them, I was able to determine where I wanted to be in the world as a transfeminine person and go from there. Plus, I did know, once and for all, the simple act of looking like a woman was not an addiction for me. It was a deep issue which sooner or later in my life I would have to face.

At that time, my progress was slow but steady as I made a far-ranging group of acquaintances in the gender community I was visiting. On one side, I was dealing with Ed, a part-time closeted cross dresser who had a crush on Michelle. A beautiful transsexual woman we both knew. I was stuck in the middle of that strange relationship. Trying my best to be understanding. All I knew was, the interactions I was having were not helping me with my issues which once again I was internalizing. The same thing I perfected in my male life which was so bad for me. I finally came to the point where I realized I needed to be my own person as a transfeminine person. I knew for sure; I had the dream of someday living fulltime as a woman. I just had no idea of how I was going to get there. I set out to discover answers to the many questions I had.

Such as, I knew I was not a cross dresser or transsexual. I was transgender looking for my path. Was I gay? What was my sexuality going to be under the gender affirming hormones I was seriously considering taking. It took me many years of searching before I finally received some long-awaited answers. And would I ever have the courage to face who I really was.

I was fortunate as I always mention that a small group of lesbians took me in and pushed me along my transition path. My sexuality did not have to change and that was one big question out of the way. My validation came from other women, not men and that was a fact.

Once I fully escaped my gender closet, I could look around with confidence and know my new transgender life was not built on addiction that I tried to solve, but on the facts, I refused to accept. I was never meant to be a man, and I was living a lie. The problem was I became good at the lie, and it was difficult to give up. Finally, I did learn through all my searching what the difference was between addiction and lie. Not a fact.