It is NOT a Choice

Image from Alexander Grey 
on UnSplash

I still get aggravated when someone says being transgender is a choice.

Realistically, why would I have ever chosen to live the life I am living. Would I have made the choice to give up everything I worked so hard to achieve just to put on a dress, makeup and heels and attempt to live a feminine life. All the material benefits I had acquired as part of my life as a white male privileges disappeared for good, if I wanted them to to or not.

Suddenly, I learned the hard way what it was like to have my personal security threatened as well as being mansplained when I attempted to insert my feelings on a topic I knew quite a bit about. Quickly I discovered many examples. I nearly found out the hard way, if I dressed too provocatively at a mixer, I would be cornered and harassed by an over bearing transvestite admirer. In an instant, I learned how it would be to be a helpless woman being overwhelmed by a much larger man. Not a pleasant experience and it was not all of my lessons. One night when I was blissfully minding my own business on a dark city sidewalk, I was approached by two sketchy men wanting a handout. Fortunately, I still had a lone five dollar bill for them and they went on their way. From then on my new feminine common sense began to grow and I started to develop the gender protective sense all women acquire as part of their life experiences.

None of what I was experiencing was a choice and not part of me being validating  myself as a woman. All I needed to know was I had no choice but to follow my path if I was able to look myself in the mirror and know I was doing the right thing. Coupled with the natural feelings I was experiencing, my supposed choice was made. 

I knew over a span of time, I would learn to deal with being mansplained was something I just had to deal with as a transgender woman. I will never forget the day I had to sit in a tow truck and be subjected to being bored when the driver was telling me how the truck worked. Finally, I gave him my best blond act until he finished all his rock bottom explanations. On one of my few dates with men, quickly I found I knew nothing about subjects such as sports and politics.

Why would I choose to be something as difficult as being a woman? My entire life became dedicated to proving the world wrong. I could carve out and experience a new life as a transgender woman and thrive. But again, I needed to prove all the naysayers wrong. The only natural feminine attribute I started with was my brain. Which for some reason, kept telling me I was doing life completely wrong because I was living it as a male instead of my more natural female. Finally, all the pressure to change and all the stress to explore the world as a trans woman. I was living in a world of alternate facts which was increasingly too complex to handle. I came to the point where I felt as an impostor when I went out of the house as a man. Can you imagine that? Feeling as an impostor when you attempt to live as your birth gender. It happened to me.

All the process proved to an outsider is gender issues are not a choice. During the process none of us understands, we are born into system we never asked for. The path is often a bumpy one with plenty of curves and stop signs. We have to wait our turn before we move on. 

For any number of reasons, the true number of transgender women and trans men may never be known. One thing is for sure, there are many more hidden transgender individuals waiting to take their turn and enter the world. Regardless of all the negative publicity we receive, transgender people have been around forever and will remain a part of the human experience. After all, we don't have a choice.

A Trangender Happy Place?

 

Picnic Image from the Archives. 
Liz on right. 

Is there really ever a "happy place" to be considered if you are a transgender woman or a transgender man.

During our lives, we go through so much turmoil and change, we have very little chance to be happy with our choices. Primarily because we enter our interactions with others in a dramatic way. A prime example is the swapping of gender privileges. I remember vividly the night I lost a portion of my intelligence when I attempted to talk about a topic I knew quite a bit about with a man, It was the opposite of the intimidation a trans man friend I know told me about his new communication skills with other men, including rest room visits. Up to the point of me thinking initially the only privilege I was gaining was having men open the door for me. Later I learned I was wrong, there were other more substantial privileges to be gained by joining the world of women. They were just hidden from me and I needed to earn it. 

All the gender privileges in the world I found could not make me happy. Of course I could trace my search of the illusive happiness back to my up bringing. Being happy was not a priority in our family and I did not know how to be happy. So it took me years to at the least be satisfied with my gender transition process but not happy. I just had to be willing to take the walk. Since the walk included many ups and downs, my happy place still was difficult to find. Also, per norm, I was doing my transition different than many others. 

Examples are how I found other women who accepted me for who I was. I did it by going out repeatedly as a single transgender woman and risking the inherent danger in doing so. I was lucky and escaped several potential risks to my personal safety when I did it. The small circle of friends I found and I consumed way too much alcohol and drove all too frequently. Something I do not recommend to anyone. Another chance I took was going on line dating sites to try to find a partner since I was so lonely. Predictably, I was hammered by trash and less than stable responses. Plus, when I refused to meet up with the occasional local person who responded to me, unless we met first in a public spot, I was met with no shows or some squirrely guy who wanted to wear my panties. Not to mention the guys who were married. One of which I had a fabulous date night with but I knew there was no future. 

Through it all, I was still thinking I could find happiness. Somehow, I knew happiness could be around the next corner of the path I was on and was I blaming I could not be happy because I was transgender. Quoting "Jelly Roll" there was a very dark hallway between my ears. I needed to give up any ideas of impostor syndrome when I was successful in the world of women. I could not be happy until I gave up all of the guilt. After all, I was not doing anything wrong when I just was attempting to leave my old male self behind and live as my authentic self. 

All of this leads me to the question, am I happy now and does a transgender happy place really exist. While I am satisfied with my life as it exists now, I still work at being happy. For me happiness will be a learned response I can blame my parents for and not a result of being transgender. In fact, more than a few of the moments I call gender euphoria (or happiness) came because of my gender journey. 

The problem with envisioning a life of not having gender issues is impossible for me because I have always lived with it and it was never a choice. So I am biased that a happy transgender place has been very difficult for me, I have partially lit the dark place between my ears and am constantly searching for more. 

Dealing With Trans Rejection

Image from Jakayla Toney
on UnSplash.

Similar to so many transgender women or trans men, I have dealt with my share of rejections. 

My first major rejection came when I tried to come out to a friend when I was young. Instead of accepting me in anyway, he seemed to be embarrassed, shook his head and walked away. With that, I was forced again into my lonely, confused gender closet. I learned the hard way my friends did not want anything to do with a cross dressed companion. 

Little did I know, I needed to become used to rejection in my life. Somehow I needed to grow a thicker skin. Then again, all of my rejections did not come from outside sources. Sometimes rejection came from within as my male self became quite the transphobe. He did not want to give up any of his white male privileges plus being made fun of when I first started to try to out myself into the real world. Ironically, my male self tried to team up with my second wife to reject any ideas of a transgender life for me. To be fair, my wife was always OK with me being a cross dresser but drew the line at any idea of me going any further towards being a trans woman and to be fair to me, she knew I cross dressed before we were married.

Skipping ahead again to the times I was rejected when I tried to go out and test the public waters as a novice gender divergent person, there were plenty of times when I was rejected. Sometimes, it was merely being stared at, other times people being rude and asking for pictures, all the way to be out and out laughed at. All of the negatives led to me coming home in tears and laying down on my bed and sobbing. For some reason, after my tears, my basic stubbornness kicked in and I began to look at ways I could improve my presentation. Slowly but surely, I did improve but the rejection scars remained behind to haunt me. Mainly, my confidence was affected leading to even more unwanted rejections. I was just too timid when I was a novice transgender woman. Many times, I gave myself away.

The worst time I ever had was when a woman followed me into the women's room in one of the regular venues I went to. As always, I chose a stall, completed my business and had started to wash my hands when I turned around and faced a red faced woman who immediately started to scream at me. When she called me a pervert, I said enough is enough. For some reason I don't remember now, I learned she was a hair dresser, so I asked her if she had a business card. She asked why and I said I wanted to pass it along to our local LGBTQ organization so they could publicize her bigotry in their monthly news letter. With that, she turned around and stormed out of the woman's' room  and we went back to our seats. My reaction to her slur must have worked because she refused to even look at me when we had the chance to closely pass each other in the venue. 

Even though I was semi successful (I think) in backing down the bigot, I am still scarred by the incident. Especially these days when politicians in my native Ohio are attempting to make the simple act of using the restroom of your choice would become a crime. So far, they have been unsuccessful because of issues of enforcement. 

Perhaps, rejection is just a part of the transgender pathway we all have to follow and the ones who are successful in our journey are just the people who deal with it the best. Then again do rejections just scar us to the point of never properly recovering. Much like all the times I was turned down when I asked a girl out ended up how I viewed the the entire world of women. I let a few skew my feelings of the many. which is sometimes what happens with transgender women or trans men. When we are painted with broad strokes like that, often it can lead to rejections. I wonder if my friend I came out to so many years ago still remembers the one he met. Did I make any sort of a good impression or did I ruin it for any trans women he may meet now. There is no way to know but sometimes I find it fascinating to think about. 

I am happy to say, I came out of my years of hiding and dealing with rejection relatively unscarred and equipped to live a positive life.  

Trans Girl Playing with Butches and Bears

 

Wishing you a Happy Pride Month!

One of the mistakes I made when I first came out of my dark, isolated gender closet was thinking the gay and lesbian community had very few layers. 

Quickly I learned how wrong I was. In the male gay community, there were tops and bottoms, drags and bears just to name a few. Not to be undone, women in the lesbian community have butches, femmes, lipstick lesbians, gold star lesbians and baby dykes. Again just to name a few. Initially, I was confused by wondering how I fit in as a transgender woman, if at all.

Just as quickly I learned the male gay world was not for me. I tried going to male gay bars when I first came out and was roundly rejected. For the most part, the majority of the people thought I was a drag queen. Which of course I wasn't. It didn't take long for me to leave the gay scene for the most part and try new venues. About this time, two small lesbian venues opened as luck would have it, I was not accepted in one but had no problems in the other.  The first one was a hard core biker dyke bar and they had no use for a trans woman on her own in their bar. Just to be a pain to them, I kept going back before I found other places to spend my money. 

As I mentioned, the other bar was a direct opposite. I went often and ended up meeting several butch lesbians which were interesting. Ironically, it was not my first interaction with butches since my first dinner date as a trans woman was with a super-butch who later transitioned into a transgender man. Through it all, I thought I could handle myself and deep down I was flattered by any attention I received such as the night I was gifted a beer by a lesbian who said she should take me home with her, Since I was still married at the time, I didn't think it would be a good idea to follow up on her idea, Just like the night a super-butch in a cowboy hat would not take no for an answer when it came to singing karaoke with her. After our ill-fated attempt ended, she commented I had a lower voice than hers as I rapidly paid my bar tab and left. I never saw her again or was asked to sing. Yes, I was that bad.

On the other end of the spectrum were the interactions I experienced with the big burly male gay bears I happened to run into. I have no idea what the attraction was but I could count on at least a couple of these macho looking men with Pride or Bear flags stopping me to say hello. Including the time, Liz and I just happened to go into a gay bar in New Orleans which was frequented by several bears and the same thing happened. Instead of being shunned, I was welcomed. 

I finally figured out there was something in the aura I was exuding as a trans person and it was resonating with a few of the extremes of the gay and lesbian community. For example, I was never approached by a gay man or lipstick (femme) lesbian at all. At the time, none of it mattered because life was so new and exciting to me when I first explored my new world. 

Playing with butches and bears just added to the intrigue and fun as I discovered the many layers of the LGBTQ society. Maybe they realized I had so many added layers to me too and wanted to research more. Even though, I was a new transgender woman in the world, life was so much more exciting and simple at the same time. Maybe I was similar to a child and when the newness wore off, I became more jaded. 

I still feel though, if the world understood all the varied layers of the LGBTQ world they may try to treat us better.

Strong Women Role Models

Hand Beaded Transgender Hair
Barret from Liz T Designs on
Etsy 

 I am speculating most transgender women or even trans men have experienced at least one or more strong women in their lives.

For any number of reasons, women have been forced to be strong and carry the load for weak men. For many, their first entrance into true womanhood comes with having children. With current economic conditions the way they are, the days of the old fifties version of Mom staying home to raise the kids and take care of the house is long gone. To barely make it financially, both partners have to work.

Problems then arise when the man still wants to follow the old outdated male standards of doing very little around the house to help out. 

By now, you may be asking what does this have anything to do with being a transgender woman. With me, at least, it means a lot. My Mom worked out a deal with my Dad in the sixties. If she went back to work as a school teacher and used her college degree, my Dad would help her out with hiring a part-time housekeeper. Even with the help, Mom had a lot to do with two sons in a very male orientated family. Even though I admired my Dad for being a self made man coming out of the Great Depression and WWII, I had more on hands experience with my Mom who was very headstrong. Who knows, maybe that influence with her had more to do with me being transgender than anything else. Later I was to learn my gender issues ran deeper than one person outside of myself.

Even so, I still searched for the perfect woman to model myself after. I wanted to appear as the confident women in the world I saw moving around in their lives. The older I became, the more I learned the perfect woman did not exist and many women were hurting themselves attempting the be a successful person in the world as well as on the home front. Not to mention, the overwhelming problem of appearance. Until recent times, aging has not been kind to most women who among other things suffer from extended menopause. 

All of these factors contribute to why I have such a high opinion of strong women and how I think the world is changing quickly as many more young women seize the new opportunities in the world around them while young men play video games. 

With all the changes, it is important to figure out how a transgender woman can fit in at all. Certainly, we have to be a better woman to do it at all. Which means understanding all the layers of a woman's life. That is once of the reasons some women resist letting trans women play in the girls sandbox at all. As my second wife always told me in no uncertain terms, I needed to earn my way in. Maybe that is why I never considered her a strong woman role model for me at all. My Mom on the other hand, was a strong role model for me. From how she applied her makeup to how she battled me for my future, I appreciated all she did for me. Including of course, birthing me. She remained my role model even though she rejected me when I came out as a transvestite to her. She immediately said she would pay for a psychiatrist which I rejected. Since I didn't have a mental health problem because of my gender issues. 

We never mentioned my desire to change my gender the rest of her life but even so I decided to adopt her first name as my legal middle name when I transitioned and legally changed my name. It was the biggest honor I could think of for all the things she did for me. The most relevant thing she did for me was to show me what a strong woman was and how to be one. A trait I would really need as I followed all the ups and downs of following a new gender path.

It is ironic to me, the strongest women I know like Liz or Kim have very little idea of how much they have helped me along and the most frustrating part is I don't think I can ever repay what they have done for me. 

Who knows? You might be an offspring of the very few strong women like my daughter. She had to became an ally for her trans child and was then able to take advantage of helping her child at an early age. Maybe your Mom realized your authentic gender self and became an ally rather than the cruel opposite.  If you didn't, you were forced to do what the rest of us did. Study strong women close up and do your best to join their ranks. I was fortunate enough to be able to work professionally along side several strong women who I learned from. The women seemed to combine strength and humility seamlessly to forge a successful business career. 

There are so many variations on how to become a successful strong trans woman it is difficult to mention them all. We all need to the do the best we can to force our way into a world where sometimes we are not wanted.

Time Waits for No One if you are Trans

Image from David Cohen
on UnSplash.

Sometimes I look back at my nearly three quarters of a century of life and wonder how I made it.

Often I think I could have made it easier on myself if I had been able to muster the courage to come out much earlier and live the authentic feminine life I always wanted to live. It is difficult to imagine exactly how it would have worked out, because the world has changed so much for transgender women and men. It is always worth mentioning the pre-internet/social media days when trans people were so much more isolated in their dark gender closets.

Timing always has quite a bit of influence on how anyone is able to attempt joining the world as an out transgender person. As anyone becomes older, they have a tendency to accumulate life experiences, material or not. Families come along for many, making the gender shock of changing genders so much more of a problem. Baggage continues to increase when we undertake better employment and secure better housing. Both of which can be very difficult to give up.

Time keeps on moving, which often is the only definite and when it does, the pressure builds to do something about it. The older we become, the more the reality of our mortality sets it and we lose the recklessness of youth. I was certainly much more reckless when I was younger and tried more self destructive acts such as consuming too much alcohol and driving way too fast. Also, as the pressure mounted, my mental health which was already shaky was put to the test repeatedly. Anything I tried seemed to take me farther and farther away from any potential answers I could think of.  

The problem was I couldn't see the forest for the gender trees. Similar to any other woman, my biological clock was ticking away and the older I got, the louder it became. I tried everything to run from my clock but of course nothing worked. Finally, when I turned sixty, I could take it no longer. On one momentous night after years of struggle I gave up my male self and gave in to living fulltime as a transgender woman. I put all the years of experimentation as a cross dresser behind me, dis-carded the remainder of my male clothes and set out to live my dream. Sure, it was scary but all the preparation I put into the move made it more natural and successful from the beginning. Primarily my inner woman was overwhelmed by finally having the final say in my life. 

At the time, I was viewing the entire process as jumping off a gender cliff and hoping for a soft landing. As it turned out, all my prep time when I was actually trying to play in the girl's sandbox worked well for me because I had a chance to build up a close circle of women friends who helped with the landing and even welcomed me in. 

I knew too, I wasn't getting any younger and if I put off a gender transition much longer, I would likely never have the chance again. I was close to retirement age, had no spouse to worry about, and had a limited amount of family and friends to come out to, so even I didn't have a good reason to stay in my gender closet any longer. 

In my case, for whatever reason, I was able to wait out time to the bitter end and come out positive in the process. I wish now, I didn't wait so long to live as my authentic transgender self and put so much prep work into it but no one goes back and gets a second chance to rewind the clock.  

Tenacity of the Transgender Tribe

From the Jessie Hart Archives. I am
in the middle of two friends.

It's no wonder so many women don't trust a transgender woman's desire to play in their sandbox. In my case, it took me years to understand what my second wife was trying to tell me about being accepted as a woman in any form. It took more than just appearing convincingly as a woman to come closer to being one. I was far away from paying my dues and for the most part, she was against me doing it. So, I needed to step out on my own to discover the world on my own. Thanks to all the years of practice in front of the mirror with my makeup and fashion, I had a fairly good basis to work from as far as my appearance was concerned. The only real problem I had was living through my faux fashion adolescence when I tried and failed to dress as a teen girl. Once I made it through that point, I was able to blend in with other women  my age and discovered I had an easier time in the world.

The more I explored, I found I needed more and more tenacity to reach my goal of learning what living the life of a transgender woman could or would be like. At this point the true struggle began. Just learning how to communicate with other women on their level turned out to be the main problem. I learned the hard way women communicate on more levels than verbal ones and often say things of a passive aggressive nature such as, you look good...for a man dressed as a woman. Or they were just trying to find out what you were doing in their world. On too many occasions as I was learning my way around the sandbox, I ended up suffering serious claw marks up my back. Another way to put it might be to equate the acceptance process with trying to jump on a moving merry-go-round and claim the prize without doing any of the work such as having periods. Rejection was not rare. 

It was on nights such as those, I went home in tears wondering if my whole transgender dream was worth it. On those occasions, something told me it was and my tenacity kicked in. Even with more explorations to do. I just had to continue until I got it right. Finally I did and I moved along to adding gender affirming hormones or HRT to my list of exploring ways to better femininize myself. Perhaps then and only then did other women see I was paying my dues to be admitted to their world. I had the tenacity. 

As I reach the age of seventy five, I think now, more than ever before in recent history the tenacity of the transgender tribe of women and men is being tested. Here in my native Ohio, the gender bigots in the state legislature are once again trying to push anti-transgender restroom bills in the statehouse. Hopefully, once again, more rational minds will rise up and reject the measure. If not, I wonder how the whole law will affect me using the restroom which matches my transgender status in the future. Needless to say, I am scared.  I mean how will such a law even be enforced if I am just trying to go to the bathroom. I don't want to even know. All I do know is I won't go back to using men's bath rooms after more than a decade using the women's room. 

Finally, what the bigots don't realize is, the trans tribe has been around forever and is not going away. We just need to move forward as a group to fight. Once the bigots see we are not going away, they will have to find someone else to harass and our tenacity will prevail. 

Trans Lost and Found

 

Lost woman from UnSplash

During a transgender persons' life, we experience many enormous periods of  lost and founds. 

Perhaps the biggest loss most of us face is with our families. In the transgender transition process, often many in families choose not to understand our journeys to living as our authentic selves. I am very familiar with the process when my brother decided to end all dealings with me when his family decided they did not want me at a family Thanksgiving dinner. We have not spoken since and that was over ten years ago. Needless to say, I am not happy about all I lost with my brother. As I always write is how fortunate I was when I found other family to fill the void. Between my wife's Liz's family and the acceptance I found from my daughter's in laws, I found more than I lost. 

Another major portion of our old male lives we have a tendency to lose is much of the old baggage we have to try to bring along. Interests such as mechanics and sports are stereotyped as male and are frowned upon back in the day when transsexuals were expected to go through gender realignment surgery and then move away and start a brand new life. I saw the whole process as one of the biggest obstacles of me potentially giving up everything which I earned to start all over again. I wanted in a large part to have my cake and eat it too. Could I really, transition into a feminine based life and keep most of my interests? 

I was stubborn and found out I could when destiny led me to a whole new group of friends who helped me into a new world. In essence, I found more than I ever lost, even though going through the separation from my old male life was very traumatic and stressful. More than anything, the finality of the loss off of many of my old male friends to death was tough to take, including losing my wife of course. Before the found began to flourish in my life, it seemed the losses would take over and they almost did. 

It took awhile but slowly and surely. I began to climb out of my valley and begin to climb again at the age of sixty. I shed (or lost) almost all the parts of my male life and even though I was scared of the future, I could at the least look ahead to better times ahead. Finding more than I lost became a fun goal for me as my life changed. 

I hear from so many other transgender women whose lives parallel mine. Either they continued with a skill they earned earlier in life or were able to meet others who made their gender transitions so much easier. One way or another,  the losses didn't feel as bad. Sadly, there are the other trans women and transgender men who never seem to not struggle with their loss of family or employment. It is just another example of how being transgender is everything but a choice. 

Perhaps, as being transgender continues to be better known thanks to the internet, everyone will have the chance to pick and choose with more confidence what is lost and what is found with their life. Then have a chance to cherish what is found.

Go Get a Life

Photo from the 
Jessie Hart Archives...

Following all the struggles with being transgender in my life, I finally decided I was living a lie and needed to go out and find an authentic life. An existence which helped rebuild my mental health and made me feel natural. 

My struggles have been well documented here in my writings. All the times, I faced the public for the first time as a novice cross dresser and came home in tears. Finally it all led to the magical evening when I decided enough was enough and I went out to intermingle with the world for the first time as a transgender woman and not a cross dresser. The difference was I was trying to become the trans woman I always dreamed of and not just looking like a feminine person. In spite of being scared to death, I managed to make it through the evening and even started a path where I could be a regular in the venue I went to. From there I was bolder and began to check out other similar venues which were much different than the gay bars I was going to because I thought I would have a tendency to be accepted more easily. 

Along the way, I found I wasn't easily accepted in male gay venues and in all but one lesbian bar I went to, so I kept going back to where I becoming a regular was helping me to build a whole new life. Through it all, the problem I was having was while I was on the fast track to achieving my gender dreams, I still had a wife and family to deal with at the same time. In addition,  I hadn't even thought about the possibility of losing my job. I was so busy learning about life as a possible transgender woman, I had a difficult time thinking of anything else when it came to my marriage and employment. 

The gender pressure I was under kept building until I could take it no longer and changes needed to happen to save my life. I was tired of all the self destructive behavior I was subjecting myself to over the span of my life. All the times I set myself up for failure in my male life had to change and for once I needed to succeed at something I really wanted such as living as a trans woman. I found going and getting a new life was going to be scarier and at the same time more exciting than I ever imagined it being. Somehow, I managed to barely hang on to my marriage when I was sneaking out behind my wife's back to explore the world. I was lucky I didn't lose my job because I was good at what I did and the company left me alone so, for the time being, the job was a non factor in my transition. 

What I never factored in were the times when I needed to interact with the world as a woman. How would I talk and communicate primarily with other women became a priority. Getting a life took on a whole new meaning. Plus, I can't speak for the others in the transgender community (women or men) gender affirming hormones were the tipping point for me in my new life. Once I started the medications, there was to be no turning back in my gender journey.

When I went out and finally had the courage to be me, I saved my own life. For once I was a success.

Impostor Syndrome?

 

Halloween Girls Night Out
Jessie Hart Archives 

In many ways, this post is an extension of yesterdays work. 

Impostor syndrome to me means not feeling at home in a space where you worked hard to find yourself. It is especially true when it comes to transgender women and trans men. Specifically I know a couple of trans men who suffer from impostor syndrome even though they are undetectable in their adopted authentic gender presentations. I am fond of telling one of them, they have transitioned into better men than I have ever known. 

Even still, imposter syndrome is difficult to shake. My earliest problems with I.S. came when I was invited to girls nights out. First of all, I was petrified and when my fears quieted down, I could finally grasp where I was and I was living my dream. Most importantly, I did not want to turn my dream into a nightmare and did I really belong there. After all, my path to womanhood was so different than all the other cis-gender women I was with. As I said in yesterdays' post, most all of the women in the group accepted me without questioning my past. I say most, because there was one woman one night who made no secret of her dislike for me. I did my best to ignore her or on the other hand, return the favor. My largest goal was not to let her ruin my experience. Which was so so fragile to begin with.

To this day I still suffer from gender impostor syndrome on occasion. I don't know why after all these years of living as a transgender woman fulltime why I would but I do. Perhaps it is because all the years I lived through to get to this point at times seemed as if I would never make it. All the years of going home with tears in my eyes from public scorn took their toll on me. All the years of trying to know myself when the answer was right in front of me all the time. Including the days when restroom privilege's were difficult to come by also. I had the police called on me all the way to being screamed at by a transphobic woman one night in a venue where I thought I was safe in. 

It has always been my theory that genetic women (or men for that matter) are just born female or male and need to grow into being women or men. As humans we need the time and experience to grow into our mature gender selves and sadly, many never make it.

I suppose this is the main reason I still fall for the occasional bout of gender impostor syndrome. I just haven't had the chance to pay all my dues I need to pay on the bumpy journey out of my closet and entering the world as a novice transgender woman. Even though I have spent over a half century of work to arrive here.

Happily, my battle with imposter syndrome seems to be almost at an end. I now have the confidence to realize I belong in a space as much as the next woman. I just have to continue to adjust to the way women are approached in the world. It was my own personal journey to my own unique trans-womanhood and I own it totally.    

Loose Ends

 

Image from the Jessie Hart
Archives

With this post, I have several loose ends to tie up and move on from...for awhile.

Perhaps the most important is my health. I finally received the information from my Veteran's Administration doctors from my recent colonoscopy. Fortunately, everything they removed turned out to be non-cancerous and I was cleared to not return for three years. A real improvement over the last time I went through the procedure only a year ago. I was paranoid I would have to do it again so soon, or worse they would find signs of cancer. As I always like to say, without my health I am nothing. 

Another loose end was a recent meet and greet I went to with a group of diverse friends I am part of. The morning started out with the knowledge my wife Liz, who wasn't feeling good would not be going with me to the brunch which was going to be held at a close by upscale brew pub. Liz and I are normally inseparable, so I knew I would miss her. For the occasion, I wore my new boots, favorite cream colored sweater and dark leggings, Light makeup and what passed for a quick brushing of my hair and I actually felt pretty good about myself. What could go wrong? A heavy cold rain which ruined my hair on the way in because I forgot an umbrella was the first thing which went wrong. Of course I survived a little rain, didn't melt and headed in to the crowded venue  As it turned out my group was clear across the room and I received little or no extra attention as I made my way back to them. So again, I was feeling good about myself. 

All was good until the server came back to take our orders. Out of the clear blue sky (which was cloudy) when it was my turn to order she turned to me and said, can I help you "Sir". The one little word, completely ruined my mood as I told her I wasn't a "Sir." She apologized twice but the damage was already done and it took me awhile to restore my confidence as a transgender woman. The damage went so far to me that I felt sorry for my friend who was sitting next to me and heard what the server said and I think felt my shock. Other than the shaky beginnings, the rest of the meet and greet went well and I headed off to do other errands and be home so I could watch the football playoffs. 

Another loose end I have been waiting to hear about is the outreach idea I had from the Alzheimer's Association diversity group I am a part of. They were/are trying to set me up to do an interview for a statewide Ohio publication called the "Buckeye Flame." Recently I talked virtually to one of the women who was responsible for setting up the interview and she told me she would talk to the person who would be doing it for a time. Since it has been a very difficult time in Ohio for all transgender women and trans men, due to all the anti transgender laws being passed in the legislature, I am sure the publication has bigger fish to fry than talking to me. One way or another, I am sure I will find out more at a upcoming diversity council meeting I will be attending virtually soon. 

For now, that is all the loose ends of my life which need to be tied up. Hopefully, there will be more outreach coming up soon to write about. 

Secure Beginnings

 

1966 Transvestia Cartoon

This morning I read a post by a transgender man I follow on another writing format. 

The number one fact I took away from his post was how accepting his grandparent was when he was growing up. In fact, the grandparent took him to get his hair cut and purchased him clothes to match his authentic gender. After I read the post I responded by saying how good it must have been to have a supporting person in their life. 

Sadly, I was never able to take advantage of having anyone even knowing about or having any inkling about my gender issues. I knew without any shadow of a doubt, I was expected to be a boy in all aspects of my life. My parents were of the "Greatest Generation" which was the WWII and Great Depression generation. As a child growing up in the 50's, I was expected to fit neatly into a square male hole and survive the best I could. in a world I did not embrace.

The entire experience of being totally alone in the world as a boy who wanted to be a girl led me quickly to extreme cases of gender dysphoria. It wasn't until many years later when I learned of Virginia Prince and her "Transvestia" publication did I discover there actually other transvestites as they called themselves back then. Thinking back, I am fairly sure the publication was mailed out every two months and I couldn't wait until the next one arrived. Thanks to "Transvestia", I was able to learn about actual mixers which were close enough for me to go meet  other cross dressers or transvestites. As I began to see others in those mixers up close and personal, I learned how many levels of difference there were in a community which I imagined to be so similar. For example, the idea of the mixer being for only heterosexual transvestites only was quickly dispelled when too many of the participants disappeared behind  their hotel room doors too quickly.

Ironically, through it all, I still didn't feel as if I had found any sort of a home with others who supposedly were supposed to feel similar to me. Looking back, I think it was because the concept of being transgender had not been widely publicized at the time. I knew I did not belong with the cross dressers trying to deny their male selves or the transsexuals in the group considering radical gender realignment surgery. In those days, anyone who went down the surgical path was recommended to move away and begin a totally new life. As severe as my gender dysphoria was at the time. I couldn't imagine myself doing all of that.

It took awhile but I eventually stopped blaming my parents for ignoring my gender issues. Part of it was my fault for never attempting to tell them what was really bothering me, so I took the traditional male approach and just bottled it all up. I hid it all so well until the night after I returned home from the Army. I came home late from drinking my share of beer and found my Mom waiting up for me. We started to talk and along the way, I tried to come out to her. She followed her instincts and offered to pay for mental health counselling and I followed mine and never brought it up to her again. She has long since passed away so the best I could do to honor her anyhow was to change my new legal middle name to hers nearly five years ago. 

I needed to realize the "Greatest Generation" was good at providing and not so good at emotional support,  at least in my family. Once I accepted the facts of my upbringing, I really needed to work hard to not repeat the cycle of my upbringing. Once I began to feel secure in my transgender life, I was able to  do it.    

Transgender Safe Spaces

Image from Nicole Herrero
 on Unsplash

Yesterday was the annual picnic I have written about in the past. It was hosted by the transgender-transvestite-cross dresser group I am a member of here in Cincinnati.

Again this year, we were blessed with a wonderful summer afternoon. Attendance was good also, with a nice mixture of younger transgender women, mixed in a few trans men as well as older attendees such as myself. The group provided hamburgers and hot dogs and the rest of the food came from a "pot-luck" where everybody brings something. So there was plenty to eat including a special shout out to Wendy for her "world famous" cheesecake. Even my wife Liz and I "forgot" our diet to have a piece and it lived up to it's billing.

What also lived up to it's billing was the safe space atmosphere of the picnic. The group reserved a very nice shelter house and short speeches were given by a new group of members who traveled the distance to the state capital of Columbus, Ohio. To fight the bigoted legislators attempting to pass anti-transgender legislation. It was refreshing to see so many younger faces fighting for our rights. 

My main point is, the picnic provided a safe space for the transgender community locally to express itself. Everyone could come, relax and enjoy themselves. Exactly what the world "should" be like for us. In addition, the picnic showed us what could be if we are just left to live without any interference. 

Along the way in life, often transgender women and trans men are able to find and enjoy other space spaces. In my past, for example, after I got over my initial panic of going, the several girl's nights out I went to ended up being safe spaces for me. I was able to relax and live and learn from the experiences. I am fortunate too in that I normally have my wife Liz with me when I am out in the world. In essence she provides an interference when people attempt to zero in on me. Often I think the worst than can happen is when we hold hands in public. I think some people may have a problem with two women holding hands. However, not having another hand to hold was the biggest thing I missed when my second wife of twenty five years passed away. So I am enjoying it while I can.

Also, events such as the picnic provide various levels of acceptance for younger members who need to see older trans people who have lived their authentic lives for years. In doing so, we provide a distinct pathway to the future. In many senses we become sort of a legacy member. While the younger members are picketing the state house, other's of us such as I are becoming part of diversity committee's. Anything is possible often if we slowly try to show the world who we really are. 

At my age, for many reason's I need to take a slower path and in the meantime wait for my second piece of Wendy's cheesecake.

Still a Mystery

Photo from the Jessie Hart
Collection

 When I went to the breakfast meeting yesterday, I was able to take a very small sample of how transgender women and trans men are being accepted in the area of the country around me. The meeting drew approximately one hundred people. Mostly younger professionals.

Before the speaker took the stage, there was a time for networking with others around us. Since I was still basically shy, I decided to stay back and see if anyone tried to reach out to me. No one did, so now I regret my decision. I am sure there will be a next time, so I will have a chance at a re-do and do better. After all, the last thing I want to do is come off being unfriendly. What kind of a transgender ambassador would I be? 

One thing I will always question is how my first impression is received, or what are people really thinking about me,  Yesterday the process began early when I needed to sign in and then find my breakfast, so like it or not, I needed to interact with the world. Everybody I saw gave me a big hello and a smile, which made the overall process so much easier. Long ago, I gave up on my egotistical desire to be viewed as a cis-woman and I settled for being noticed as an attractive (I hope) transgender woman who blends in with the other women. By "working the room" I will have a better idea of what the other attendees think of a trans person. 

Through it all, I still on occasion think, why me? What trigger switch was thrown when I was born to always question the male gender I was born into. The closest I have ever come to thinking I found a culprit was when I began reading about the medication DES which was given for years to women which had experienced problem pregnancies in their past. My Mom had several problem pregnancy's and I was born in the period of time the drug was used, so I naturally was intrigued. Much more so when I read DES flooded the uterus with estrogen when the mother was pregnant. So maybe, that was the reason I always questioned which gender I was born into.

None of that helped me yesterday when I basically retreated myself instead of being a  quality ambassador for the transgender community when I could. I was proud of myself with negotiating the morning Cincinnati rush hour traffic and still utilizing a spotty GPS system on my phone to even find the venue. I thought the difficult part was behind me but I was wrong. I, for whatever reason, couldn't seal the deal and be a quality transgender representative. I will have other chances though and I will do better. One thing I am going to try to have changed is my name tag which correctly identified my legal female name but also said I was "retired" which is also true but I think restricts whomever wants to network with me, I am going to try to get it changed to writer or blogger. Either of which would at the least open potential lines for communication. 

Once I accomplish all of my future goals, I will have to set new ones and hope my life is not such a mystery to others.

Muscle Memory

Image from the Jessie Hart
archive. Ohio River background. 

If you are into sports at all, perhaps you have heard the term "muscle memory". Athletes use it to describe how they approach certain aspects of their sport. A prime example is how a batter in baseball prepares the same way everytime when he comes to the plate. 

As transgender women and trans men often we face the same dilemma of how to cross the gender frontier and establish ourselves successfully as new women or men. Naturally along the way we have a tendency to carry characteristics of our previous gender we need to erase. One of the first aspects of my old gender I attempted to change was how I walked. What I encountered was, I finally achieved a certain level of presentation in my mirror and then I had to put the entire feminine image into motion. I needed to break so many bad habits when I was trying to cross dress as a man, I felt I needed to practice as much as I could. I even went to extreme measures such as going to big box stores later at night and practice walking as a woman. Even though I was still dressed as a man. I always wondered what the store detectives watching on camera thought of me. 

Over time my ability to move more as a transgender woman improved to a point I felt more secure in public. At that point I discovered another serious problem I was facing was how I held my facial expression. It took a small child loudly telling her Mother "Look at the big mean woman!" The obvious compliment was the kid called me a woman but the bad side was she thought I was mean. From that point forward I tried to take the old male scowl off my face and replace it with a more welcoming look. With my new look, along the way, I attracted more positive communication as a woman in the public's eye. 

Muscle memory for me was difficult to maintain. I really needed to concentrate to make my gender image complete. My old male ways were so ingrained. It seemed on occasion the harder I tried, the more mistakes I would make. An example was the time my high heel became wedged in a small crack in a mall sidewalk I was in or the time I was leaving a venue where I was a regular in. One night I was wearing my high heeled boots, got up to leave and promptly fell in a wet spot. Fortunately I was not injured in either case except for my pride. I went back to the drawing board and I challenged myself to walking better in high heels. All part of the new muscle memory I was attempting to assimilate in order to be a more accomplished transgender woman.

These days I am trying once again to improve my movement muscle memory. Since I went through a period of time when I was having mobility issues. I finally found myself at a point where moving as a woman wasn't as important as just moving at all. Happily I am beginning to do better with my mobility now so I can again concentrate on moving as a woman. 

All in all, muscle memory is a very important phase for all transgender women and trans men to go through. Why should we spend so much time and effort in looking good for the world and destroy the image completely when we put it into motion. 

Gender Secrets

 

Photo from the Jessie Hart
Archives

Transgender women and trans men most certainly carry their share of secrets during their life. 

My secrets started quite early. The first I can remember were when I was asked what I wanted to be later in life. Instead of the usual answers (which adults wanted to hear) such as a doctor or a lawyer, all I could secretly think of was I wanted to grow up to be was a woman.  Little did I know, the secrets in my life were just beginning. First there were times I needed to sneak around my families' back to try to just look like a feminine person in my mirror. 

As I said, those were the "easy" secrets to keep as I kept my small feminine wardrobe hidden from my family. Plus, every cent of my hard earned money went to adding new items of clothing or makeup. I worked a newspaper route at a young age as well as earning a meager allowance by doing household chores. All helped to invigorate my passion to be female. Somehow I still managed to hide my secret from my family.

Other secrets I could never share with anyone else were many and varied. For example, when I was a defensive end on the high school football team all I really wanted to be was a cheerleader in one of their short flouncy skirts. Then there were the two proms I went to when I was a junior and senior in high school. There was no way I wanted to be the male in the relationships. I wanted so bad to be the person in the beautiful prom dress with the corsage I needed to buy. I wonder now if there was anyone else to talk to about my feelings would it have led to much change. As it was, it would not have been possible because I was still living in the pre-internet dark ages before  Even if therapy was available to me, no one knew anything about my gender issues. I actually did try to bring my cross dressing up to one therapist after I served my time in the Army and was roundly rejected. It wasn't until I discovered a therapist who specialized in gender issues did I get any relief. She told me there was nothing she could do about my being a transvestite or cross dresser but I was also bi-polar and could help me by prescribing medications. The medication did relieve much of my depression.

By the time I began to consider getting serious with women to the point of marriage, I quickly experienced the positive and the negative of keeping gender secrets. My first time of sharing my secret with a woman who was my first fiancé was a total disaster. She held it against me later when I was facing being drafted into the military. Even with this experience, I was determined to not change how I disclosed my deepest secrets to the women I was very interested in. By doing so, my first and second wives knew before they married me that I was a transvestite. As it turned out, telling them did not have any real effects until I began leaning towards being transgender with my second wife. Even though we fought continually concerning what my gender desires were, at least for the most part I was out front about who I was.

It took me many years to learn but all my years of thinking women had it easier in life, I was wrong. When I found I needed to put my secrets away and begin to peel back the multi layered life's women I was wrong. I needed to experience the same path females follow before they can claim the title of being women. Sadly, some never make it and just can only claim to be female. Which is a subject for a whole other blog post.

In the meantime, it is so enlightening to be able to not having to keep so many heavy gender secrets....secret.  

A Layered Life

One of the many things I admired about women were they are multi faceted human beings. While men were fixated on power such as sports, money and of course other women, the women they were fixated on had so many other facets of their lives to be fixated on. After all, none of us would be here if it wasn't for women birthing us. 

Photo Courtesy
Jessie Hart

The first major thing I fixated on with women was their clothes. They were the pretty gender. Women were able to buy and wear the colorful clothes and obsess on their hair and makeup.  Here I was jealousy and all working hard delivering newspapers and saving my pittance to sneak out and buy my own clothes and makeup. I was fixated and driven to be a girl. 

Why was the good question. As a man all I had to do was compete with other men for my share of the power which came with male privilege especially since I was white. One of the problems I continued to have was I wanted to be chased as a woman, not be the chaser. Little did I know my future would not be with a man but with other women. 

As far as women's attachment to families, I didn't birth my daughter but in many ways we are so close I could have. So I feel comfortable talking about and comparing family stories with other women. The only thing I couldn't share in of course were all the experiences of actual child birth. 

In many ways, I believe hormone replacement therapy has helped me to learn more of what a woman goes through in her daily life. After years of thought I finally came up with a description of my biggest change...my world just softened with the effects of HRT. Slowly I began to notice I could smell and taste better. Plus the most dramatic change other than the emotional ones was when I noticed I was becoming colder faster. I found out the hard way women were not just making up being cold. 

Perhaps you noticed up to this point I had glossed over the extreme emotional differences I felt when the hormones began to kick in their effects. All of a sudden I could cry for the first time in my life. I didn't have to be the stoic male with no emotions. Even when those extremely close to me passed away. I learned also I could cry tears of joy as well as sadness. 

Recently I have experienced life's layers from a feminine viewpoint by going to a wedding (my own) and a very sad funeral. Of course, choosing the right outfit took me right back to my earliest days of wondering what a girls' life would be like. 

Sometimes I feel a portion of the resentment shown to the transgender or LGBTQ community comes from a portion of the population who are afraid of their own feelings about gender. Or, they are too lazy to try to understand the differences in human beings. Cis men choose not to try to understand cis women and vice versa. I found it interesting when I was going through my gender transition, women would come to me for advice about their spouse or boy friend. Perhaps the desire to learn from transgender women or men goes back to the ancient worlds when trans people were worshipped. Or, at the least not discriminated against. 

It all comes back to being able to lead the lives we need to survive as our authentic transgender selves. Layering your life can make the entire difficult journey worth it.

Transgender Bravery versus Conviction

 Yesterday I virtually attended my monthly Veterans Administration LGBTQ support group meeting. Normally the meetings are fairly routine and I don't say much, plus the last get together featured an interesting mental exercise which everyone needed to be a part of if possible. The exercise started with a circle and then you had to add all the various important facets of your life. Examples would be privilege, family etc. 

After a few people stepped forward with their ideas, it became evident how important being a veteran was to all of us, as well as being transgender. Various privilege's came in a close third. Since we all happened to be white, almost everyone mentioned it. Mainly in a sense of how much privilege we lost when we gender transitioned into feminine lives as transgender women. 

Of course I write often and long concerning my own losses of male privileges when I transitioned. For the most part I felt them quickly and firmly. All of the sudden I had lost a significant portion of my IQ and were ignored when I was talking to men. I brought up the experience to the group when I needed to have my car towed and tried my best to explain to the tow driver and a sheriff where I needed to go. Once they heard the address they didn't need any other information from me. Since I was a blond that day, I finally just sat back and asked dumb blond questions about how the tow truck worked. Then I was "man-planed"  how it did. The best examples for me came when I was talking to men about sports which of course I knew quite a bit about. I found I was never taken seriously. Due to time constraints I was never really able to talk much concerning the real issue of losing control of your own safety when you transition to a transgender woman.

By far the best experience was shared by a transgender  man in the group who is completely presentable as a man and works as a nurse. He was saying he works with men from other countries who refuse to take any guidance from women and he has to go in and mediate between the two genders.

Other than that, perhaps the biggest topic from the group came when discussion started about being veterans and what it meant to us all, For me being a veteran was something I never wanted to do but was proud of myself for serving my time in an honorable fashion. Or at least I tried! :). Several others in the group managed to draw lines between being veterans and having the courage to pursue their lives as transgender women and men, 

Over the years occasionally I will be called "brave" when I describe a few of my coming out of my gender closet experiences. I prefer brave be saved for those who deserve it such as first responders. On the other hand my convictions led me to where I am today. As one of the participants said yesterday, as soon as she stepped foot into basic training, she had to stick with her convictions concerning who she really was. Plus I knew also, I just couldn't live a gender lie as a man. Somehow, someway I would have to find a way to live fulltime as a transgender woman.

There is no contest in my book in comparing transgender conviction to any sort of bravery. I rather leave the bravery to the ones who deserve it. Conviction is different. We all need it to survive in an often hostile world.  

A Vacuum?

 

Photo by Lukas ter Poorten on Unsplash

Nothing happens in a vacuum. No matter how hard you try, there are always outside influences which effect the outcome of what we want to happen. 

This is especially true for transgender women and trans men. During our gender transitions we rely on others on occasion to show us the way. Recently, I have mentioned cis women such as Liz, Kim, my daughter and Min who provided guidance or even a shove to get me moving in the right direction. Liz in particular told me she didn't see any male in me at all, my daughter took me to her hair salon and Kim took me to a professional football game. All were totally instrumental in me becoming a full time out transgender woman.

Ironically, early in my transition I didn't believe in needing a cis woman to assist in furthering my own gender trip across the frontier. I went back to my much anticipated visit with my fiancé when she would completely dress me head to toe as a woman. Even though it was a thrilling day, deep down I wasn't impressed that much with the results. As far as the makeup went, by that time I had plenty of time to practice on my own over the years. Her improvement just wasn't that noticeable. As far as the clothes went, I picked out the outfit myself. I should have known she wouldn't do that good because she is the one who wanted me to say I was gay to dodge the draft. When I wouldn't she dumped me which turned out to be one of the best things to happen to me in my life. Nothing happens in a vacuum for sure.

Vacuums however are funny creatures. Without the women I mentioned above, there would have been no way I would have developed the confidence to go public and learn how to communicate with other women. I consider communication the most important hurdle I had to cross when I MtF gender transitioned. I say that because appearance wise I had reached a point where I didn't have much of a problem with the public but building a new life as my feminine self was something totally different. I needed to build a new person from the ground up plus I was in a vacuum on how to do it. 

Slowly but surely and again with the help of friends, I managed to find a place in the girls sandbox and after a few mishaps, survive. I made the mistake of trusting smiling faces who were holding knives behind their backs. I think when I surrounded myself with cis women friends, negative people couldn't get to me. Expanding on the vacuum theme a bit, essentially I expanded my vacuum to survive and thrive as a new person.  

I may be age biased but I believe older transgender women have a more difficult time coming out of their vacuums. Many lose family and friends and find it difficult to restart their lives. Many are content to let their lives play out as I was until Liz came along and changed everything. She found me in an on line dating group. Proving once again how wrong a vacuum can be.

Confidence?

Photo by syndey rae on Unslash

Often I have written about the power of confidence in the lives of transgender women and transgender  men. Without the confidence to pull it off, the nicest, fanciest dress in the world couldn't be worn. Sadly, confidence is similar to seeking a new job. First the employer tells you that you need more experience  then you can't get the experience  if no one gives you the chance. 

Novice transgender people face the same struggle. We need the confidence to pursue our new lives in our authentic genders but finding it can be so fragile, One day you are making it in the world and the next we are back in our closets crying in failure. It is very difficult to say the least. As time goes on, we have so many questions to figure out. Examples would be how far do we want to go in how we are presenting to the public. Will we be trying a business professional look or something much more casual. Are we more gender fluid than transgender and what about that pesky subject of sexuality. When all is said and done will you stay with the gender you always thought you preferred or will you begin to find the opposite binary more attractive. 

Better yet, what does any of this have to do with building confidence. Quite a bit, it turns out. No matter how you slice it, every little bit you accomplish adds to your well being as your authentic self. All of a sudden, life becomes easier. When you are able to own who you are, you automatically look better in that  fancy dress you bought along with new jewelry and even a new matching purse. It all looks great and so do you.

Keep in mind though, no matter how much confidence you have build up, there is always the chance a stray civilian will come along and "clock" you. Meaning somehow, someway the person has punctured your gender persona and ruined your day. Don't worry, they will go on their nosey ways soon enough and leave you alone. 

Another important thought to remember is we all as human beings have an unconscious aura we project to others. When I am in new or challenging situations, I try to specifically project female to the people I am interacting with. I try to take every idea I can to present authentically as my authentic gender. Believe me when I say I have had my confidence shattered too many times not to. 

My only advice is always be positive and expect the best and not try to put yourself in the worst possible situations. Perhaps you have seen the commercial on television from  one of the well known bourbon liquor distillers which says where ever their bourbon is served, you are welcome also, Now, we all know how many red neck bars we transgender folk would not be welcomed in. The moral to the story is do not go overboard where you try to go. Take it easy and gain your confidence in mellower venues. 

Remember diamonds are not a girls best friend, confidence is.