When Life Hands You Panty Hose

 

Image from Garin Chadwick
on Unsplash.

As transgender women, we find when life hands us panty hose, we better wear them.

In my case at least, I had an early love of wearing hose after I was able to borrow my mom’s electric razor and shave the unwanted hair off my male legs. Which puberty had gifted me with when I was not looking. Ironically, if the truth is known, I was probably shaving my legs ahead of many of the girls in school I admired so much. I say that because if my mom had the daughter she always wanted, she would not have let me shave my legs and wear makeup as early as I did.

During my early love affair with Hose, I discovered how frail they could be as I ran many pairs of my mom’s collection which she never mentioned to me. Since I was earning a meager amount of weekly income from my paper route, I discovered buying panty hose was within my reach if I could just discover the size and shade which fit me the best. I could go to the corner small department store, gather my courage and be able to buy a new pair of panty hose and an item of cosmetics and still have a little left over to save for my next cross-dressing adventure.

Since I was buying my own supplies, I felt less guilty about searching for clothes in my mom’s wardrobe which still barely fit me as I had less chances of being caught. But the new problem I was having was where I could hide my growing collection of feminine belongings where my family would not find them. Especially, my slightly younger brother. I even resorted to storing my overflow in plastic bags in an old hollowed out tree I found in the woods next door to my house. It was far from ideal, but I managed to have my privacy one way or another.

As I lived my life, I was still in my victim phase of wondering why I was the only boy I knew who was going through all the contortions I was going through to be a girl. Why could not I be “normal” like the rest of my friends. When they were thrown panty hose, they would promptly drop them like some sort of a hot potato. I on the other hand still enjoyed the electric feel of the feel of the material on my legs and how good my legs looked in the mini-skirted fashion of the day. Since I was told I had great legs at Halloween parties I went to, it was the ideal time to show them off with a pair of panty hose that I had just bought at a neighborhood convenience store. By this time, I was a pro at knowing just what I was looking for and always buying it with no problems.

Thankfully, I finally exited my victim phase of life and started to embrace and accept who I was thanks to a lifetime of cross-dressing. Since the term transgender had not been invented yet. By this time, I was entering the 1980’s with mini-skirts coming back in fashion along with the big hair. I loved the fashion of the day almost a much as I loved the old hippie days, I was largely deprived of because of my time in the Army. It was fun when I could look out for and adjust what I was wearing as a transgender woman, so I would continue to blend in with the ciswomen around me. Evolving with the times also involved how I evolved as a transfeminine person because I had a lot of growing to do if I was ever going to make it to my dream.

I needed to go back and accept what I knew so long ago that much more than women’s clothes and makeup defined me as a person. I yearned to be the women I admired so much and had to figure out how to get there. Which involved more than the simplicity of being presented with panty hose and having the chance to wear them. What would I ever do about putting in the effort to live out a life, cross the gender border and successfully exist in the world with other ciswomen. I write extensively about the time it took me to peel back the layers I needed to cross on my gender journey to be allowed to be behind the gender curtain. Where I looked merely opened a few initial doors for me. An example was what happened when I observed I was the only woman in the room who was wearing hose at all. Somehow, fashion had come full circle in front of my eyes and every time I saw a woman wearing hose, I looked closer to see if she was a cross-dresser.

As far as I am concerned now, my hose wearing days are almost over along with most of the women I am around. Sadly, I am into leggings and jeans now more than anything else because I do not go anyplace other than casual venues where I would be out of place if I dressed up so I have come full circle in my life once again. Life handed me panty hose initially and I embraced them totally before I moved on later down my gender road. However, the one fun thing you can do as a woman is embrace certain fashion styles the best you can. You are still not tied to the old restrictive male fashion code which evened to start to change also. Men now are even allowed to wear pink shirts, so who know what is in store for future men’s fashion. On the runways it is not uncommon to see a male model wearing woman’s clothes. Maybe someday, cismen will grow out of their frail sexuality, and the world will change with them.

In the meantime, I will always remember my beginning of a life of a discovery as a transgender woman. Life did not throw me any lemons, but it did throw me panty hose in an egg-shaped package. Which I used as a springboard to move on from there. I managed to proceed through a lifetime of gender discovery I used to come close to my dream. From there, woman friends of mine helped to push me across the line I was dreaming of. I was so fortunate to have had them to help me to yet another electric sensation. The of living an everyday life as a trans woman.

Thanks for reading along and making comments! Your input is always welcome as it helps me grow.

 

 

The Right Place but the Wrong Time

 

Image from Alexey Demindov 
on UnSplash.

Perhaps you remember the Dr. John song “Right Place, Wrong Time” from 1973. In his classic style, he bemoans being in the right place at the wrong time in his life.

Sometimes I think the song could be the theme of my life. To start with, I was born against all odds, seeing as how my parents had suffered through three stillbirths before I came along and survived. I was in the right place to thrive in a family who loved me, but I was in the wrong place when my gender was determined to be male. Something I could do nothing about for many years.

Without knowing it, I was being set up for all sorts of embarrassing scenarios in life running from my gender truth. Examples came fast and furious during my initial days of trying to go public with my cross-dressing desires. Way before I acquired the knowledge to blend in with the world as a feminine person. Being in the wrong place it seemed was a regular occurrence. Both my male and female egos were suffering from be stared at, all the way to putting up with out and out laughter.

At the same time, I was feeling deep down that I was in the right place at the right time anytime I cross-dressed as a woman. I had not realized at that time that along I was a woman cross-dressing as a man. Which would have saved me a tremendous amount of heartbreak in my life. In the meantime, I needed to be content with just following my gender path the best I could, being aware of the many blind curves and stop signs I would run into. Such as the times when I was learning the proper etiquette that I needed to use the women’s restroom. For the most part, I did well with very little pushback except on rare occasions I remember to this day. The worst one that I always recall was the night a ciswoman followed me into the room and started calling me a pervert when all I was doing was trying to do my business in piece. Fortunately, she was the exception rather than the rule and I never had to go through anything so dramatic such as that again. Except for the time I was on a bus tour through the deep south with my wife Liz and we stopped at a rest stop on the Alabama border.

I thought everything was going to be fine until I was washing my hands and turned to face two women glaring at me. I quickly thought that I was certainly in the wrong place until I stepped around both of them and headed as fast as I could for the bus. I was certainly in the right place to take care of my business and at the wrong time with those two women.

The more I went out in the world as a transgender woman, naturally, the more chances I had to climb out on my gender limb and take chances to see how I felt about being there. Every time I did not fall, my confidence grew stronger to put myself in more challenging situations. In the retail world, I got myself out of the clothing stores where I was a non-entity and went to the world of bookstores and coffee shops to see how I was accepted. At the same time, as I always mention, I left the gay bars I was going to all the time and went to straight venues to see if I would find myself in the right spot at the right time. I was overjoyed when I ended up as an accepted regular at several venues I chose where I could enjoy everything from the music to the beer and my sports on big screen televisions.

I was never raised to be happy or satisfied with anything I ever did, so I was surprised at how satisfied my life was becoming when I followed the correct gender path to becoming a full-fledged transfeminine person. Casually living my new life, the same as any other ciswoman would do it. I even discovered that I had been in the right place at the right time with my sexuality as I fell into a group of women who accepted me totally and being with a man was never anything I ever had to consider.

The more I did as a trans woman, the more I never wanted to do again as a man, so I stopped because I began to feel so awkward on the rare occasions, I needed to re-enter the male world I used to be so good in. In fact, I just hated going back. Which was the time that I started to get it through my stubborn head that I was never destined to be a man at all and my right place was as a woman.

 Once I arrived firmly in my right place there was no turning back. Out went the old male clothes to thrift stores and in came the daily routine of what I was going to wear in the feminine life I always dreamed of. It had been a difficult gender journey complete with approving and disapproving people in the world but somehow, I always seemed to separate the haters and TERFS (Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminists)  out, learn from them and move on. Common sense finally prevailed as I chose the only lane I could and stayed in it. Many times, it was my own lack of confidence which stopped me from taking the steps I needed to survive.

As I said, being in the wrong place at the right time did not have to be the theme of my life unless I let it. Once I corrected a lifetime worth of errors, I was able to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and it was not the train. My train was still coming to take me to a transgender dream life I never imagined I could live.

Thanks to all of you who take your precious time to read and comment on mine. Without you, none of this would be worth it.

 

 

 

It Was Decision Time

 

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on UnSplash.

I had many years in my life to make a crucial decision on which way I was going to lead my life. Continue in the male box I was put into by mistake at birth or continue the path I was taking into a fully feminine world.

I say many years because it took me approximately fifty years of cross-dressing in the mirror and then the world to figure out if I wanted to finally take the final steps, I needed to do to lead my dream life as a transgender woman. The funny thing about life is that now the half a century seemed to go by so fast, but when I was doing it, it was very slow.

Along the way, I had many of the usual suspects crop up I used as excuses as why I did not transition earlier. Such as, having a severe lack of information because I was born into the pre-internet era, or was I cross-dressing just because of the thrill of the clothes or the danger of getting caught. My whole life hung in the balance when I was doing my best to look like a pretty girl because if I was caught, I knew I would have a trip to a psychiatrist in my future who would say I was mentally ill. At such an early age I knew that what I was doing as my cross-dresser self-did not make me mentally ill. All I wanted to do was live a life among the girls I saw at school and put my male life behind me.

Before I could even consider living a fully feminine life such as a new term which I read about (transgender) on the internet, I would have a ton of living and researching my future to do. I was only seeing one side of a ciswoman’s existence which was the good side with all the pretty clothes and hair which was the external side. Before I could see what ciswomen had to do to get there, I would have a lot of living to do before I could ever be admitted to the girls’ club for good.

Undoubtably, the biggest mistake I made was not moving forward into my male to female femininization world faster than I did because femininization came from the inner self for me. Much more I found than the purely external femininization I thought that I was facing. So, I often miscalculated what I was doing as a novice transgender woman.  Among many other things, I had to outgrow what I call my teen girl cross-dressing years when all I wanted to do was wear my clothes too short or too tight for my testosterone poisoned body shape. Once I found how wrong that was, I could move forward into being able to blend in with the world of ciswomen my age.

As I left my teen cross-dressing years, I was able to expand my search for my true self even further. I made mental lists for myself on what I should try next in my feminine life. Or what could I do to see if I really wanted to give up the successful male life I was living. A life that was very good when it was good and terribly bad when I was suffering from my reoccurring gender dysphoria. It all made coming up with my final big decision such a hard one to make.

Still, I did not stop my constant research on whether I could make it as a transfeminine person. All it really did was add years on to my final decision, as I added layer upon layer of trans woman experiences to fall back on. Some were bad, but most were good which encouraged me to move on. Without the help often from anyone to guide me, I went the “Trial and Error” route as I hoped my errors in a women’s world would not be too embarrassing. I was successful more times than not because I let the other ciswomen in my world take the lead, and I could sit back and learn from them. It was quite the change from my old male self who was trained to always take the lead.

I can call it what I want, but destiny finally came along and opened my gender changing doors for me. I was able to be approved by a doctor and a therapist for HRT or gender affirming hormones. Which was the final nail in the coffin for my old male self who was on his last legs anyhow. I was all alone after my second wife passed away, so I did not have to explain my gender differences to anyone else for a change. I even set out to prove I was not wrong in my choices when I tried and failed to date women as a man again and I even tried to date cismen as a trans woman to determine once and for all my sexuality as a person. I was firmly in the female camp and was encouraged by all the extra attention I was receiving from women and even lesbians as I changed my life.

I ended up giving my male self-more chances than he deserved which wasted more precious years of my life. But I was able to overcome my timely errors by meeting my wife Liz online. Fourteen years later we are still together and hopefully even though she did not get the rest of me, she got the best of me. Because of Liz, it was easier for me to make my final decision to transition out of my male life forever.

I was able to overcome the wasted male years of my life as I pondered if I could live my dream. I just have always wanted the time back, which of course is impossible. Having the chance to survive a life as a “Yo-Yo” gender has provided me the chance to live out a positive life. Once I decided to go all out and live it. I should have realized years ago when it was decision time when it came to my gender.

 

 

 

What Goes Up Must Come Down

 

Image form Vicky Hladynet
on UnSplash. 

Gender euphoria for me has been a double-edged sword.

The sharp edge of the blade has been the powerful elixir I gained from when I was successful in my early attempts to cross-dress successfully and enter the world. I was well aware of the feelings from my initial view of myself as a perceived pretty girl in my home mirror. Well before I had the courage to leave the house.

On the other hand, the dull side of the blade was the quick coming down I needed to go through after my successful journeys into the world of ciswomen and cismen. But I found early that the women were the ones I needed to concentrate on because they were curious about me. Ciswomen were the most likely to pick me out of a crowd and notice that I was not all that I seemed to be.

To combat my severe ups and downs, I needed to set up and stay on a steady diet of cross-dressing activities. To do my best to always have the joy of gender euphoria to get me by the worst of my gender dysphoric issues. Often, my rhythmic cross-dressing adventures were the only thing which kept me going in life when I became so depressed with a fatalistic “Why me” mentality.

As I learned later in life from one of my therapists, I was a bi-polar depressive which added to my problems of feeling down. When I was down, I was really down and had to force myself out of bed for days at a time. When I got the professional opinion about my depression issues, I was relieved because it was one less thing I could blame on my gender issues. Then I could concentrate on my sword again along with its ups and downs. What I did was expand my ups by doing more when I was out in the world exploring to see if I really was a transgender woman or a serious cross-dresser or what.

When I was out at the bigger shopping venues in nearby Columbus, Ohio, I learned I could be accepted as just another well-dressed feminine shopper looking for gifts from the specialty stores, I went to. Perhaps because I was trying to soothe part of my guilt of not telling my second wife what I was doing, I always tried to buy a little gift for her from one of the big gardening stores I knew about and visited. She was a very dedicated gardener and for a change I could make her happy. Along with me at the same time. At least I was trying to do something positive with my gender euphoria before I started to go home and crash back into my old unwanted male life.

Sadly, after I crashed, I wanted more of my feminine world and when I did not get it I tried to internalize my feelings which only made my life worse. Since I was suffering, I was selfish and wanted everyone around me to suffer too. It got so bad that I nearly lost jobs over my attitude and probably should have lost my marriage too, if my wife was not so strong. That also had its good and bad points. The good was that when we were good, we were very good and when we were bad because of my gender dysphoria, we were very bad. Mainly because my wife had everything as a woman that I envied and I resented her for it. The worst part was she should not have had to suffer along with me on my path of severe ups and downs because I was incapable of explaining either the ups or the downs of my life when I had them. One thing was for sure; the worst move I ever made was internalizing my feelings from my second wife.

To help my ups, I continued a serious program to learn if I really wanted to risk my life as I knew it to live a transfeminine life. How could I risk all that I had built up as a man for such a selfish move which would have far reaching effects past just me. Including my marriage, my family and my employment which were all doing well except for my marriage. I felt as if I was on a run-away train on a dead-end track with my life if I ever faced my truth about who I really was.

At the same time, my downs just had to be worth all the ups I was experiencing. My gender tipping point was rapidly reaching the critical point of no return as I was increasingly carving out a new and exciting life as a trans woman. My confidence was staying at an all-time high and suddenly my dreams might be able to become a reality. The only downs I was experiencing happened when my wife was still alive and I was feeling like I cheated on her with myself every time I snuck out into the world as the new me. I think deep down, I knew our relationship was not going to be sustainable, but I never thought it would be because she would die ahead of me. Naturally, her death hit me hard and at the age of fifty-five I was going back to my drawing board. This time to do much more than re-work how I looked as a woman. Now I needed to determine how I wanted to live out the remainder of my life.

Even with the obvious answer staring me in the face, I managed to still ignore my reality and stumble forward with one foot firmly planted in each of the binary genders. Finally, my male foot began to slip, and I quit fighting the obvious. I was never meant to be a man at all, and I was a woman living a lie and living like a man. When I did, almost all my depression went away, and I was free to live the life I was always destined to live.

As always, thank you for reading along with my lifetime of gender experience. I hope I can help you and comments are appreciated!

 

 

 

Torn Between Two Lovers

 

Image from Hanna Lazar
on UnSplash. 

There is nothing romantic when you are being torn between two lovers if you are a transgender woman or a transgender man.

For me at least, I would never have wished for the ripping and tearing I suffered from the gender dysphoria I suffered from on my worst enemy. Waking up each morning wondering which gender I would be today was certainly no walk in the park. if I did take a walk in the park, it would be a mental one, and I would be chased by my demons.

As I write about extensively, I was stuck in my dark lonely gender closet as I felt as if I was the only one in the world who felt the same way I did. It was back before the internet and social media days and any information on gender issues was difficult to come by or out and out false. For the longest time, I just did not know where I fit in the world as a man who wanted to be a woman.

The tearing became even worse when one of my identities started to surge ahead of the other. It happened when my daughter was born and I had to get much more serious about how I was going to build a career as a man. Only to be ripped back when I viewed myself as a trans woman in front of the mirror. I only had the annual Halloween parties to get out of my closet and see what the world would be all about if I had the chance to live my dream of going full-time.

The thing about dreams is that they are a long way from reality. Reality meant I needed to go a very long way to learn about what I was trying to achieve. Back in those days, the term transgender woman was brand new and barely used, so I was surprised when I discovered it and it fit me so well. Keep in mind that I could only refer to myself as a transvestite because I knew I was not ready to use the transsexual label then or ever. If I had the will power to go through the major gender realignment surgeries of the time, I certainly did not have the insurance coverage or the financial resources to do it myself. Again, I was just stuck between two genders, but at the least I had a label now for who I was.

The ripping and tearing managed to become even worse when I began to improve my feminine presentation to the point where I could blend in with the world of ciswomen around me. Every time it happened, my male self would become upset because he was losing his hold on my life. As it was becoming increasingly evident that someday, I would have to choose between my two very serious gender lovers.

At the same time, I was trying everything to maintain my already fragile mental health by going to therapists. By doing so, I was able to learn what being bi-polar depressed meant and why I was suffering from it. All along, I was blaming my severe depression on my gender issues when I had other often more pressing issues. At the same time, I was ignoring facts from my therapist that she could do nothing about me wanting to be a woman. It turned out to be my truth that I refused to follow. Instead, I tried to move on. Going the wrong way on a one-way gender street. Dodging the sometimes-toxic public became too much of me until I began to give up totally on my male side and concentrate on living my dream of being a transfeminine person.

I never labored under the idea that my life in the world as a trans woman would be easy but I never bargained for the complexity of the new life I was facing. It seemed that every time I was able to overcome one obstacle on my path, something new would appear to take its place. Like never before, I had to really listen to what people were telling me, so I would miss nothing in the conversation. I found that trying to live in a world of ciswomen meant more than just looking the part. I needed to be the part too. Always before as a man, it was easy for me as a man to zone out in conversations and then catch up when I wanted to, but impossible when I began communicating one on one with other women.

Of course, my male side always hated losing, and every time my female side showed any victories, he hated it and fought back harder. As he was trying everything, he knew how to maintain what was left of his life. To placate him, I would try to do as many male things I could such as drinking with the few true male friends he had left. The problem was even he was beginning to feel alienated from his old friends as they started to pass away from cancer. At the same time, my feminine self was very successful in carving out a new life she could sustain as well as feeling so natural doing it. It was becoming obvious as the ripping and tearing (and even a large part of my depression) began to go away that I had chosen the right path to take on my gender journey.

At the same time, I began to consider attempting to get approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT. First through an independent doctor and then through the Veterans Administration healthcare system which had just approved it. It was as if the long-closed doors which were preventing me from living my transgender dream were suddenly swinging wide open. From then on, the only ripping going on was over what male baggage I could not take with me into my new life. My male clothes were given to charity as I built up my wardrobe for a new everyday experience as a transgender woman. It was a terrific weight off my shoulders.

My hope for you I that you can overcome your inner turmoil faster than I did by facing your truth. Thanks for reading and commenting!

 

 

Transgender Journey...Down but Not Out

 

Image from Alexander Grey
on UnSplash.

As transgender women and transgender men, it is easy to feel down and out as we try to navigate our new gender paths.

As I sometimes look back on my journey, it is easy to remember the good times and forget the bad. The most important thing about reliving the bad is having the appreciation for the world I am able to live in today as a fulltime trans woman. Every time I make simple trips in the world to the doctor’s, the Veterans Administration or the pharmacy, I always have to look back at remembering the not so good old days when I was struggling for acceptance. Either one of a couple things has happened. Either I have become better at my overall feminine presentation (wrong) or my confidence has taken me to a point where I don’t particularly care what the world thinks about me.

Either way, I look back to when I considered myself a very serious cross-dresser as I still was researching which fork in my gender path would I take. Back in those days, I took hours to prepare for an outing in the world, and I often wondered what I would do if I had to go out in the world everyday and compete with ciswomen everywhere. It was easy at that time to put those thoughts behind me as I was so obsessed with my feminine looks that my second wife kept calling me the “Pretty, pretty, princess.”  Naturally I loved the “pretty” part but rejected the “princess” part of her very pointed critique of me. One day, she even went as far as separating appearance from being a true woman for me when we were fighting about me wanting to go out. It was one of my all-time down moments when she told me I made a terrible woman. It hurt because I was not trying to make anything, I was just trying to express my true self, but I could not properly put my thoughts in a form she would understand.

I guess you could say, back then, I was definitely in my mental transgender formative years when my mind was trying to catch up with all the cross-dressing I was doing. Sadly, before I could formulate what a better version of my transgender self would be, all I experienced was an extreme amount of frustration. I could not understand what I was doing wrong when I was being successful in situations such as transgender-cross dresser mixers I was going to. The problem was the extreme gender euphoria I experienced at the mixers when I was mistaken for a ciswoman was not worth the resultant crash and depression, I felt when my life went back to its same old boring male self.

It all resulted in me being boxed into rarely getting out of my gender closet to explore the world and I was moody, resentful and not the easiest person to live with as I tried to internalize my gender feelings from my wife. A prime example was one year when we took a vacation from our native Ohio to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. On the trip up there, I progressively grew more depressed and mean until my wife asked me what was going on since I was supposed to be having a good time on vacation. Predictably, I lied my way out of it and did not tell her the truth that I rather be spending my vacation time as a woman rather than a man.

Somehow, I pulled myself back together and the vacation continued without incident, but I remember it as another low point. Little did I know at that time, destiny would finally come back to me on my gender path, and I would get my wish to go on extensive vacations as a transfeminine person.

Along the way, I have had many other low points which I write about often. Such as when a woman called me a pervert for simply using the women’s room in a venue, I had been a regular patron of for a long time and had no one say anything negative to me at all. Then much earlier than that when I was struggling to blend in with the world at all, there were all the stares and even laughter I needed to put up with on my journey to present. I was reduced to tears more times than I care to remember mainly by groups of teen girls struggling to find their own femininity. I was certainly at a low point when all of this was happening to me, and I did not have the tools yet to know which way to turn. All I had was this little voice in the back of my head telling me to keep going and my low points would disappear.

All of it did go away for a while until I hit my dark age when nearly everyone I cared about decided to die within a two-year period. The group included my second wife and three of my closest male friends. Who were the only ones I had. To add to my low point, I was desperately lonely and ended up relying on that little voice who at this time was growing louder and more insistent that she had all the answers for me. This time, I had very few other alternatives to fall back on. As one person told me after I had lost my restaurant along to everything else, you will land on your feet. Not knowing my feet would be in high heels when I did it.

I am sure that everyone’s lives have its share of highs and lows and I can not say a transgender woman or trans man lows would be even more dramatic, but it seems possible because we have so much to lose as we pick up our lives and move them across the gender border. Until we find ourselves living behind the gender curtain where we always wanted to me.

Hopefully if you are in the midst of a low time, you have a little voice telling you everything will be OK. If not, remember life is but a circle and what is down will eventually come up.

As always thanks for reading along and comments are always welcome.

 

 

 

It Was Always a Challenge

 

Image from Dwayne Joe
on UnSplash.

As a boy and onward to manhood, I had plenty of challenges to be sure of. Early on, my challenges were in athletics where I had very little natural ability, except for a passion to play ball of any sort.

On the positive side, my love for sports kept the bullies away for the most part and on the negative side, I lost a lot when I played. In the meantime, my feminine side beckoned and I was challenged even more because once again, I was not blessed with very little ability to present well as a girl. Testosterone tore my body up and produced many results that I did not want such as a bigger body and hairy legs and arms. Not good for a boy who wanted to be a girl as the major goal in her life.

At that time, I did not realize how complex my life would become when I decided much later to pursue the life of a transgender woman. How would I ever maintain a marriage as well as a successful career as a man that I was expected to do, if I wanted to be a woman at the same time. It was the beginning of an intense amount of pressure that I needed to live with as it became part of my permanent baggage when at the time, I was trying my best to minimize my life. Especially when I was in the military and almost everything I owned was being shipped home, on my back or in my duffel bag. I would never be free of entanglements in my life that I had then.

Then, even if I was trying not to add more baggage, life set in when I was discharged from the Army and marriage as well as my first and only child were quickly coming my way. All along I was conflicted about the new challenges I faced, I had set up basic guardrails in my life such as telling my first wife I was a confirmed cross-dresser or transvestite at the time and trying to use birth control which ended up failing on me which I will not go into.

I suppose I had no choice but to accept the new life challenges I faced with parenthood and trying to build a career for her and my small family as I moved along. It was what I was supposed to do, and I was trying to meet the demands of doing it. What I never counted on was the strength of my feminine inner self. She was always demanding more and I was on the verge several times of responding to her call when I had very little other male baggage to deal with. But I did not and went on to struggle with my gender dysphoria the best I could by internalizing it. The only release I ever had was cross-dressing in front of the mirror for my own pleasure as I dreamed how it would be to live a life as a trans woman.

A well-known path out for me became the exciting Halloween parties I could go to in my favorite costume…as a woman of course. The parties showed me I could begin to exist on my own terms as the person I always dreamed of being. If I answered the challenge to do it. If I had the courage to present myself to friends as a woman, could I ever decide to do it as another avenue out of my closet and into the world. While I was at the first Halloween parties I went to, the more I learned of the basics of being in a new exciting yet scary world where I always wanted to be.

I learned quickly that cismen around me would avoid me completely, while ciswomen asked me questions about who did my makeup and how did I gather the courage to shave my legs for my “costume”.  Later on, I used the basics I learned from the parties I went to when I tried to meet the challenge of being out with other women who wanted to communicate with and were still curious why I would want to meet the challenge of being in their world. By this time, I was becoming more confident in my true feminine self that the thrill of going to Halloween parties disappeared.

Just because the parties went away and my confidence increased did not mean that the challenges I was facing went away with it. I needed to face the complexities of living a life as a transfeminine person head on if I was ever going to be successful, I needed to communicate with a world which wanted to know more about me for the first time and it was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life. It was the time I had always dreamed of when I could finally put the mirror behind me and put the total new me into motion. When another woman came at me with questions, I was there to answer hers and was beginning to be able to ask her questions of my own by looking her directly in the eye and doing it.

The only advice about overcoming the communication challenges you will face in the world I have is to somehow get out of your closet and experience what is going on firsthand. By doing that, you can let your own unique personality out into the world and leave your unwanted baggage behind you if you are a transgender woman or a transgender man. The same rules apply, just in different gender worlds you must live in and react to. If you do not answer your challenges and try your best to get out of your closet, you will make yourself a victim and never do it.

Also, the only warning I have is depending on where you live, know the anti-transgender laws and attitudes you will be facing and plan ahead accordingly. Remember you can not rely upon the old male security privileges you used to have and find yourself in a dangerous situation. Ciswomen are raised to be careful of potentially toxic situations and avoid them too.

You can also use your challenges as a mini-bucket list and move on after you have accomplished one goal. It is a relatively easy way to manage your male to female or female to male transition.

Good luck with your challenges and thanks for reading along. I appreciate you and any comments you may have!

 

To the Dentist We Go

Image from Geo Days 
on UnSplash.

This is going to be another short post day because my wife Liz must go for an emergency visit to the dentist. Of course, we all have been in that situation before and if is a situation that you haven’t done, you don’t want to be in it.

As with my other recent doctor’s appointments going with Liz, I am wearing another of my “The Ohio State University” shirts because tonight is a huge game with Texas. Along with my leggings and tennis shoes.

Also, this morning I have already shaved closely, brushed back and tied my hair back which leaves me just enough time to apply a light coat of makeup and lip gloss. A routine I normally always follow if I am going to a place such as a medical appointment. Where most of the other people are involved in their own world, or the world of their cell phones. And will never notice a stray transgender woman in their midst.

Even though I don’t expect anything out of the ordinary to happen, I am always prepared for it in the back of my mind and probably will be forever.

If it does, you will be the first to know!

The Age of Gender Innocence

 

Image from Nicola Dowie 
on UnSplash.

I used to think that my initial days of cross-dressing were the most innocent days of my life. I was very young and the feel of the feminine clothes on my body and the expectation of seeing myself in the full-length family mirror brought me to the height of anticipation. For the moment at least, I was putting aside all the worries I had of ever being able to live successfully in a male world.

Now, with the benefit of age on my side, I wonder if I was ever so innocent. Sure, I loved all the things about being a cross-dresser such as shaving my legs and wearing panty hose, all the way to feeling all the sensations of being able to wear the same pretty clothes I had seen the girls around me wear. The biggest problem remained was that just the wearing of the clothes was never enough. The thrill I felt of dressing up was guaranteed to only last a couple of days before I could not wait to do it again. Even my young mind knew there was still something wrong.

What was wrong was I was not a cross-dresser at all; I was a transgender woman waiting her turn to live in the world. In the meantime, I would have to depend on the temporary thrills of mirror worship to get me by in life. It all set me on a very long path of gender discovery. Complete with many ups and downs along the way to make the journey either very scary or at least very interesting. It took me years of mirror living before I could ever gather the confidence I needed to finally conquer my fears and go out into the world as a novice trans woman. Of course, there were the on-going challenges of learning makeup as well as shopping for my own clothes on an extreme budget. When I discovered the thrill of shopping at thrift stores, I was able to find clothes that fit me well by having the chance to try them on before I bought them. If I made a fashion mistake when I got it home, it was not such a big deal because it did not cost that much to start with.

Rapidly, my days of gender innocence were fading away as I became more involved in the world of ciswomen. I quickly discovered their world was much more than just the external world of fashion, hair and makeup. Their world was so much more complex than a cisman’s I was not prepared for it. I found I had a lot of work to do to be accepted at all. To prove I belonged there at all, the first step was to prove I was serious about doing it. I would first have to prove to other women, I was not trying to enter their world as some sort of a dare, or that I was not up to something no good. I desperately wanted to cross the gender border and join the girls’ club and leave the men’s club forever. When I was able to, entrance behind the gender curtain opened for me like never before.

It took many times behind the curtain for my innocence to really go away. I needed to battle my paranoia with being shy to start with and then having to communicate on a whole different level before I could relax at the girl’s night’s out I was suddenly being invited to comfortably. And that was not the only one thing I needed to deal with. Such as how I would ever dress to blend with the rest of the ciswomen in the group I was invited to. I certainly did not want to embarrass myself by dressing too much or not enough and finding that special point where I blended right in. My innocence was real, since I was dealing with a world I had never been in before, but the pressure was real because I wanted to make it a success so desperately. I can compare the experience to first dates I went on with women I did not know well as a man. How would I start the conversation and what would I say.

It turned out I did not have to worry that much because the group conversation was easy to follow without men around. It flowed around family basically and the relationships the women were having with their men. I just flip-flopped my past life as a man to one of a woman. Being purposely vague about key issues such as not having the birth of my daughter but I was there when it happened. My communication efforts seemed to work with all but one woman who just glared at me. I ignored her glare and stayed in the conversation and got invited back.

As I experienced more of the world as a trans woman, the more my innocence went away. Sure, I encountered the occasional toxic woman or TERF but with my confidence level soaring I was able to handle most all of them. If you are wondering why I have not mentioned any men, it is because there were so few of them. For the most part, they knew I had left the men’s club and wanted nothing to do with me, Plus, I cannot take all the credit for my success I had a very tight knit group of women friends around me to support me too.

Perhaps the most lesson I learned about gender innocence was the amount of difference there is between the two main primary genders. Basically, I learned that men operate on some sort of a power matrix. When they are challenged, they are less likely to give you a chance unless there is something in it for them. Women, on the other hand, are much more open to the world. Especially when it comes to their sexuality, which is not as frail as a man’s.

As I always say, if you are just starting up your gender path, be prepared for a change in your innocence as you enter the world of your preferred gender. And thank you for reading along as I described mine.

 

 

Just Another Lonely Day

Image from Jarge Johansen
on UnSplash.

Throughout most of my life, I was desperately lonely, as I had no one to fall back on as I explored my gender issues.

Growing up in a rural area, I started with just a
small circle of kids I interacted with and it rarely grew significantly, so again I was stuck with why I felt the way I did about myself. All I knew was I had a difficult time interacting with the boys at all and the girls seemed as if they were some unreachable magical creatures I knew nothing about.  While all of this was happening, all I could do was carve out my own little world where I was a pretty girl in front of the mirror in mom’s clothes and makeup.

Little did I know how those humble cross-dressing beginnings would come back to influence my life later. In fact, forever. As I grew, I became more skilled in using makeup and finding clothes which I could fit into when I outgrew moms. Then, the more I cross-dressed, the more I wanted to. Which did nothing for my extreme loneliness. It seemed to me; I would never find a way out and really did not until I hit my late high school and college days. What happened was, a group of girls at high school learned that a friend of theirs did not have a date to the junior prom and I did not either and matched us up for the evening. After a successful date, I was not so lonely when another friend of mine set me up with a single girl he knew and suddenly, I was a socialite as I entered college. In truth, deep down I was still the deeply conflicted person I always had been.

Amazingly, my early college years were so intense that I forgot about my gender issues for six months or so before they crept back in. When they did, they became as intense as they were before I left for college and stayed that way until they were put on my back burner when the military draft caught up to me when I graduated. For a while I was engaged to a woman I knew from college until she left me just before I was due to report to Ft. Knox for Army basic training leaving me completely alone again. When my fellow soldiers were getting mail from wives and girlfriends, I was getting an occasional letter from mom. At the least, I appreciated her efforts and once again I was back to being used to being intensely alone.

All along I wondered what my military time would do to my gender issues. Would they go away temporarily like they did in college or not was my question. The answer I was looking for did not take long to become evident to me. No my gender dysphoria was not going away and in fact, tools I had learned in the Army just made my dysphoria stronger. For example, I became more confident in myself as I had a better idea of what I could survive and I spent hours of what spare time I had daydreaming of what I would do with my feminine self once I had served my three years.

It was not very long after I was discharged that I gathered the courage to ask my first wife to marry me. Since she was in the Army too with me for over a year, she had witnessed my Halloween party costume at a hospital party we had went to with friends. Plus, my later confession to three friends plus her that I was actually a transvestite and my costume went a lot deeper than it looked. She also turned out later be the mother of my first and only child and the marriage did last several years until I fell madly in love with my second wife.

Oddly enough it was another Halloween party which allowed me to confess to her my deep dark secret that I was a cross-dresser. It turned out that she did not care which was the case for the twenty-five years we were married. Until I began to transition into a transgender woman. Just before she passed away from a massive heart attack. During those years we had our share of good times and bad times somehow, we always made it through, and she never knew how much of a role model she was to me when I went my separate way as a trans woman. Following her untimely death at the age of fifty.

When she passed, I went into a lonely shock I had not felt through the majority of my life. I could not understand why I was having to start all over again in my mid-fifties and search for another relationship. And furthermore, which direction would I take with the gender issues I had during my life. By this time, I was well ahead of my goal to possibly live as a transfeminine person. I had major decisions to make in my life, so I kept on searching for answers. To start with, I tried dating ciswomen again as a man which failed miserably and at the same time, get more serious in my explorations ss a trans woman which I found to be a natural social release for me.

By the time a couple more years of wasting valuable time went by, I was sitting by myself enjoying my new company and I thought why was I not living like this all the time? How stupid could I be not to take advantage of what I had learned in the world so far as a transgender woman. Most importantly, my lifetime’s dream of living as a woman was within reach, and I was not taking advantage of it.

From that point forward I put together a timetable to give away my remaining male clothes and pursue HRT therapy. There would be no turning back from that point forward. I was tired of the gender struggle and loneliness I was enduring. I was afraid if I did not make the change now, I never would have the chance.

You might say I played the odds and they came out in my favor but on the other hand, I researched the odds extensively before I did it.

 

 

 

When A Good Day was in the Details

 

Image from Ali Hassan
on UnSplash

I remember vividly the frustration I felt when I tried to connect all the dots I needed to connect to make blending into the world as a feminine person a reality. A good day was when I was able to recognize the details and improve my overall feminine presentation.

It was because I had so much new to remember when I finally summoned the courage to leave the mirror and get out into the world. The mirror was kind to me and often would not tell me when I was looking like a circus clown in drag. It took being out in the public’s eye to do that for me, unfortunately. When the stares and laughter caught up to me in the initial stages of being out of my shell, I had to scurry home to go back to my cross-dressing drawing board to go over all the details I was trying to put together if I ever was going to make it as a novice transfeminine person.

It seemed when I arrived at the point where I did a reasonably good job of applying my makeup, then I would make some huge mistake with how I was moving and mess up the feminine image I was trying to portray. One example that comes to mind was when I was in a mall blissfully minding my own business as a woman when one of my heels stuck in a crack in the sidewalk and I almost fell. After I determined that no one else noticed my embarrassing move, I gathered myself back up and resumed my journey. A lot wiser for the experience which I am sure that many ciswomen have gone through. It was just that the overall gender learning experience at times seemed to be so cruel and frustrating.

Overall, it took me submitting to practice, practice, practice to make it to just an entry level where I did not look like a linebacker in a dress when I moved in a new, scary world. Of course, I knew ciswomen move very differently than cismen, but to copy it was not going to be easy for me. It also seemed all eyes were upon me as a transgender woman which was and was not the case. As I found out if I could just do the basics, most people would be in their own worlds and not notice me at all. That is, if I did not give them anything out of the ordinary to look at which initially I was quite bad at. Why? Because I tried dressing as a teen girl, which was a major mistake as I was trying to disguise my thirty-year-old testosterone poisoned body.  It did not take me long to get laughed out of doing it and settled into a more reasonable look which was able to blend in with the ciswomen around me.

At that point, a good day was when I was able to put my overall appearance together with the way I moved as I began to put the ideal mirror image I always had into motion. I began to try my hand by going to well attended events such as urban festivals in downtown Dayton, Ohio. When I went, I always wore my best sunglasses so I could look to see if other people were paying attention to me and I knew I had made significant strides towards living my dream and I was ecstatic. For once it seemed, everything was coming together for me in my life until I hit two major roadblocks. My second wife and my male self-sensed the potential of losing their lives with me as they knew them.

It was all good for awhile as I was able to maintain the delicate gender balance I was trying to live until the portion of my life, I came to call my own dark ages when I lost my wife and three of my closest male friends to death. Naturally, I was knocked for a loop and did not know which way was up for a while. As an experiment I even tried to date ciswomen again as a man, but it did not work since I did not want to start to explain all over again to another woman my gender issues. Finally, I resorted to taking myself out to an outdoor concert in a Dayton suburb because my daughter gave me two tickets to see “Joe Cocker”. The woman I was going to take essentially stood me up a week before the concert which gave me time to consider taking myself. Which is what I did as I went in a black sleeveless top, black flowing silky pants and sparkly silver sandals. No one gave me a second look as I nervously played with my long dark-haired wig and I enjoyed myself immensely.

I knew right then, I was on the right path because I felt so natural in my new world as I was connecting all the right dots and my feminine power was in the details. Until I hit my next big roadblock. Just how was my new transfeminine person going to do her most difficult task of all, which was being able to communicate with the world around me. A world which I had to put all the way up there with my initial feminine problems such as makeup, hair and movement as my most difficult task to take on. Here I was in this big, highly nuanced new world I was in with very few tools to help me.

At first, I resorted to mimicking the tone of the other ciswoman who was trying to talk to me. Which worked well enough to get me by with short, simple conversations with clerks and salespeople but fell miserably short when someone really wanted to communicate with me. That’s when I knew I needed to seek out professional help about feminine vocal patterns which helped me to learn the basics of being able to not necessarily sound like a woman when I was talking but still say the right things a woman would say. a huge detail I needed to communicate in the new world I was in,

I was fortunate when I survived my dark ages and the onslaught of my male self-trying to survive that I was still able to move forward. I began each day with good feelings for once concerning how I felt about my gender dysphoria in my life. No matter what the mirror was telling me in the morning, deep down I had connected all the dots and attended to all my gender details, so I knew who I was.

It made all the difference in the world as it took me so long to do it.

Thanks as always for reading along. I hope you can find and overcome all the gender details and connect your dots along the way. Comments are always welcome!

 

 

 

 

I Wish I Knew Why

 

 

Image from Jon Tyson
on UnSplash

It has been a while since anyone has asked me when I knew I was transgender. In fact, it was several years ago when one of my grandkids was coming out to my daughter as being trans.

My daughter then asked me if I had always known, true? I told her yes that was true except in the exceedingly early days of my life when I knew something was wrong with me but I just did not know what. As I grew older and I experienced that first magical visit to mom’s clothing drawer did I truly knew what the problem was. I really liked the feel of mom’s clothes and that was only the beginning as I wanted to be a girl full-time sometime in my life. Just the buzz of wearing feminine clothes was never going to be enough. So, I set out on a long journey to see if I could ever achieve my dream.

When I was able to begin to interact with others with gender issues, I found early on that it was not going to be the end to my questions that I thought it could be. For example, I was too much girl for many of the cross-dressers I met and not enough woman for the then called transsexuals I encountered in person at the social/mixers I traveled to. The closest ones initially were nearly a two-hour drive away before mixers were then set up in a nearby central location for me. It was then that I was able to meet others who identified as true transgender women and I fit in perfectly with them. Finally, I began to have answers to my identity as a person.

Of course, I needed to take all sorts of side journeys as I sought out the key to why this transgender world had chosen me. In my research I even came across the theory that the drug “D.E.S” which was given to women with a history of problem pregnancies around the time I was born, could conceivably be linked to a person having= gender issues later in life. Because to ensure the fetus went full term in the womb, the womb was flooded with estrogen to aid the birth process. I thought “D.E.S.” might fit me because my mom had suffered through three still births before I came along. Ultimately, “D.E.S” stayed just as it started with me. Another solution to an extraordinarily complex gender problem with no concrete answers.

Then there was the victim mode I wrote so much about when I went through a poor, poor pitiful me time of my life. I could not understand why I needed to be stuck with all the gender issues I had when no one I knew had them either. To this day, I envy men who have been able to go through their lives as men without the added distraction of wanting to be a ciswoman. Finally, I made the difficult turn considering my overwhelming desire to be feminine as a good thing. Because it set me off from society as a unique person with a look at both sides of the gender border. Removing my victim mentality made all the difference in the world to me as I began to look ahead for the possibilities which laid ahead. Rather than always looking over my shoulder and dwelling on the mistakes I had made.

The more success I experienced when I first was able to carve out a new life for myself as a transfeminine person, the more the wish I knew mentality I had lived with my whole life began to fade away. From that point, I went into my confidence mode because without it, I was powerless to do anything I wanted to do as a trans woman. I found that as long as I held my head high and did my best to be a quality person in the world, the more people left me alone since humans are like sharks. They sense blood in the water, and I was not adding any of mine. Confidence also allowed me to try different things. To judge if I really wanted to jump the gender border and give up living life as a man altogether. Even though it was the most difficult decision of my life, having even a sliver of hope that I could live my dream that propelled me forward to a gender tipping point that so many ask about.

This time, I could tell anyone who asked why I decided to leave a successful male life to take on a decided uncertain one as a transgender woman. The answer I always gave was deceptively easy. I had reached my own gender tipping point where I was living more as a woman (and feeling natural doing it) and less as a man as I was feeling increasingly uncomfortable doing it. By doing as much research as I had, I had given myself no choice as what I should do. When became now and that was the time, I decided to take the next step and pursue gender affirming hormones or HRT to sync my inner mind with my external body the public saw. I knew it was the point of no return for me as my body took to the new hormones magically.

I knew from there that all my explorations as a trans woman pus the addition of HRT allowed me the most powerful female privilege of all. The power to finally be myself. The wish I knew why I was different my whole life was answered with a resounding yes, I did know it all along and refused to face my own truth. I was living a counterproductive life as I was going overboard trying to be successful as a man when I was a woman forced into her shell all the time struggling to get out. The best part was when she said I told you so, as she destroyed what was left of my old male ego.

I finished strong when my why me became a why not as I had the chance to live my feminine truth among the ciswomen of the world.

Thanks for reading along and I hope you will discover your why me in life! Comments from you are always welcomed.

 

 

 

 

Labor Day 2026

 

Pik Nik with JJ Hart (left) and wife Liz. 

Time flies when you are having fun, especially when you are just getting older in life. Once again, another Labor Day and summer have come and gone. It’s like my mom used to say, life is like a roll of toilet paper, the closer to the end it gets, the faster it goes.

Around here in Southwestern Ohio though, we are entering what is called “Indian Summer” with temperatures which remind us of August. So, most of the fall fashions we have purchased will have to wait for another month until October rolls around.

Fall has always been my favorite time of the year as the leaves of the trees begin to change their colors, football is in full swing and I get to go through my fall and winter wardrobe to see what needs updating. It is one of the joys of living in a climate which still changes four times a year. In many ways, it seems like only yesterday when I first experienced my first summer to fall fashion transition as a transgender woman.  I thought now I was finally going to get to experience all the pretty clothes that ciswomen get to do. In a sense that was true once I could afford to update my fashion and find the proper sizes which fit me. To do so, I wore out my shoes going to thrift stores looking for fashion bargains which flattered me.

Of course, I forgot to mention the cross-dressers’ national holiday, Halloween which gives us the chance to flaunt how good we can look like a woman. Often for a neutral audience. I know for me it was the first time anyone saw me as myself outside of my mirror. For the first several serious Halloween parties of my adult life, I experienced the good and bad of being in public as a trans woman or even a novice cross-dresser. The good part was that I think I was successful in presenting as a woman while having the freedom to do it. However, the bad part was having to wait an entire year to do it again. Finally, I could take it no longer and needed desperately to take my feminine show on the road and head out to the malls unattended.

Once I began to try to get out of the mirror and into the world as a trans woman, Halloween just became the icing on my cake as my so-called “costume” changed from shock value trashy all the way to professional ciswoman ideas designed to see if I could fool people I did not know. No pun intended, but I made the transition from trash to class quite easily and I loved it. It gave me the direction I needed to go forward in my male to female femininization journey. I will be presenting more of my Halloween adventures as we get closer to the actual date of the holiday.

Sadly, not all my memories of fall are good ones. I vividly remember the nights I drove around alone seeking answers to my confused life which basically revolved around which gender was I and what was I ever going to do about my upcoming date with the Army. The rapidly blowing leaves in front of my headlights only reflected the despair of my life at that time.

So, that is why Labor Day represents more than just another holiday to me. As I said, the holiday makes me feel deeply about beginnings and ends as nature starts her transition from summer to winter and calls it fall and gives us brilliantly colored trees and cooler temperatures to enjoy.

Just a short Labor Day post today celebrating the beginning of fall around here. No matter where you are, I hope you can celebrate it too!