Being Hyper Focused as a Trans Girl

 

Image from Maxim Tolinisky 
on UnSplash.

As I followed my path into transgender womanhood, I found several times that I was too focused on my goal of presenting successfully as a woman when I went out and tried to join the world.

Essentially, what I mean is I was trying too hard to mimic the way ciswomen look and how they move about in the world. I had not yet had the time out in the world to develop the muscle memory I needed to be at my best with others. I so badly did not want to slip back into my old male ways and look like a linebacker in drag in high heels in the mall. In the meantime, I was spending every spare moment I had by myself to try to practice my best feminine walk.

The problem became when I was practicing too much and forgot where I was. Looking feminine in the least at work would not have been good for my macho career. I did the best I could with the time I had to work with just was not enough to create the habits I needed to progress the way I wanted to towards my transfeminine dream. Every time I went out, I would do something wrong and destroy the image of being female that I was trying to portray. If I had my makeup, clothes and hair to a point where I was satisfied, something would come along like catching one of my heels in a sidewalk crack to hurt me. I was very frustrated at the time until I finally began to relax and began to enjoy the new world I so badly wanted to be part of. As I did it though, I was totally surprised at how complex the entire scope of what I wanted to do as a potential successful trans woman would be. My life was like one of those huge “Bloomin Onions” you get at steakhouses. Every time you peel back a layer, you find another layer to surprise you.

As it turned out, at the time I was peeling back more gender layers much quicker than I had ever imagined. I was dodging all the stop signs that I thought I would have and was able to look around my world and enjoy what I saw. Most importantly, I was becoming the me I always wanted or destined to be. Again, I was being blindsided in that I would have to go through yet another transition as my life was coming full circle. I was not becoming someone different at all. I was just becoming me.

The one remaining aspect of my transgender being I did have to remain hyper focused on was when I began in depth communication with other women. I was always paranoid that I would give away too much of my old male past when I was talking with another woman. I worked so hard to be in the world as I was, I did not want to out myself as an intruder. Quickly, I made strides to learn the different way ciswomen communicate that men just don’t understand such as non-verbal cues about danger and happiness. All the way to the power of passive aggression that women use so effectively. To aid in my efforts, I even took feminine vocal lessons to learn key terminology I would need to complete my communication efforts in the world.

As I followed this new direction on my gender path, I did slide back into being hyper focused in my quest to be me. I was intently watching all my new ciswomen friends to see how they lived their lives and how I could fit in. In essence, the new me needed a new place to live and they gave it to me without ever realizing what they were doing because they took their lives behind the feminine gender curtain for granted and I never could. And still don’t to this day since I spent so long trying my best in the dark to get there. I guess I was paying my dues as I learned what my second wife meant when she called me a terrible woman. Back then I was, but I did not want to make that mistake again. So, I became hyper focused on a new goal…earning a spot behind the gender curtain.

My confusion set in because I learned early in life what it took to survive behind the male gender curtain, but I had no clue at all what it would take to survive as a trans woman. Because I knew I would never be able to have such life altering experiences such as carrying and birthing a child such as ciswomen have but on the other hand, I still had a very unique way to my womanhood which still counted. I just had to wait and earn my way back to being me. Furthermore, I did not want to completely throw away everything that I learned for fifty years living in a man’s world. I just wanted to take the building blocks I learned and use them so I would be able to be a quality transfeminine “me” person and never be told again I made a terrible woman. If I was “making” anything from scratch, I wanted it to be presentable to the world.

Once I was able to stop being hyper focused on my early experiences with makeup, hair and appearance, reality in the world set in which meant I would have a chance to live my dream of throwing out or giving away all my male clothes and starting all over again. I hope being a hyper blend of the two main gender binaries helped me along once I finally sensed the true path I wanted to be on.

The ups and downs of life on the journey I took was never easy, but worth it when I made it to the surprise location I was heading for that I never realized. All along, I was just focused on being me.

 

Letting the Light Into my Trans Closet

 

Image from Sahin Kalijii
on UnSplash. 

Growing up, I had what I considered to be a very dark and escape proof gender closet.

I was part of the pre-internet/social media generation so I could not find the latest online tutorial on improving my makeup skills. And of course, I could not run to my mom or girls’ peer group for any information either. I was stuck with no light in my closet all by myself it seemed.

I stayed that way for years until gender pioneers such as “Virginia Prince” began to shine her faint light into my closet. I had little to no knowledge that individuals such as me even existed in the world. Once I did, I was very relieved I was not the only transvestite as Virginia called us then in the world and I set out to meet others. Before I could open my closet door even a little, I had to convince my second wife that it would be OK to do it. She had known from the beginning of our relationship that I was a cross-dresser but did not like it when I began to let others know of my so called “hobby.” It actually marked the beginning of me opening my closet door to the world and proclaiming I was a transgender woman, not a part time man putting on a dress and makeup.

Along the way, another problem I had was deciding when to take the chance to open my closet door and to which person. I did myself no favors when for the most part, I tried to internalize all my feminine feelings which made me an impossible person to get along with when I was looking in the mirror at my male self and hating what I saw. All the times I ventured out of my closet only to have to hurry back in was wrecking most of my life as I knew it. Not to mention the life with my wife who I envied because she was a ciswoman, and resented because she would not let me explore a feminine side which was trying to see the light of day.

I found my male self-had installed a powerful spring closer on my closet door which was designed to keep me in. Deep down he knew his part of my life was in danger every time I was able to escape the closet and get out into the world. I felt so enlightened and natural when I did, I never wanted to return to my male life and all its drudgery. I was so sick of wearing the same old collection of ties to work every day when better/brighter fashion choices awaited me in my closet at home.

I discovered that the more I outfitted my closet with brighter lights and bigger mirrors, the more I wanted to test my new fashions, wigs, and makeup in the world. Away from my mirror which had the tendency to lie to me. I can’t tell you how many times the mirror told me I looked great only to be rejected quickly in the public’s eye. It took me years to realize that I was expecting too much on just looking like a ciswoman, I had not yet paid my dues on becoming myself and then having the ability to relax and enjoy myself even more.

It helped me too when I began to venture further away from my closet as my confidence as a transfeminine person began to grow. To get there, I needed to be able to look another woman in the eye and communicate one on one with her about the world around us. Men entered the picture too but briefly since most of them did not want to have anything to do with me anyhow. More and more, I did not have to scramble back to my closet following a bad day or night out into the world because I was doing better in my feminine life. All my male could do was sit back and helplessly watch as his hold on me slipped away and all he ended up being was a provider because of his good job.

I arrived at a point when I needed to expand the small dark transgender closet, I had always lived in. It all began with me having to accept who I really was and had much more to do than just expanding my closet for all the feminine clothes I was buying. I was making a huge lifestyle choice that I had spent way too long deciding to make. All of this moving things around in my life led me all the way to leaving my closet totally behind and looking for a transgender house to live in. I had taken my time (decades) to make my decision, and it occurred to me that I had taken too much time but by then there was nothing I could do about re-winding the clock. I took the good and lived on until I was able to carve out a new transfeminine life.

As I look back, it does not seem possible to me that I have come from the lost, lonely boy staring longingly at himself dressed as a girl in his closet’s mirror to the person I am today. But none of would have been possible had I not been able to embrace the help of several key ciswomen around me to make it happen. I wonder what would have become of me if I was not able to meet them. On the bright side, stepping out of my closet (as scary as it was) enabled me to meet all of them to start with. So, destiny was on my side as my life went full circle from a dark closet to the bright existence I live with my wife Liz now. I was just fortunate as my hunches that everything would work out if I stayed on my gender path. I just had the super strong hunches that they would.

Thanks very much to all of you who read and interact with my writings. All comments are always welcomed!

 

A Special Kind of Crazy

 

JJ Hart

In my youth and even later when I was struggling with my deep-seated gender issues, the thought entered my mind that I may just be a little crazy to think that way. I even went as far as telling others I was not the well-adjusted person they thought I was.

Looking back now, I think I was just preparing in my own way to tell others I met that I wanted to be a woman. Which I never did for decades when it became obvious to strangers I met at cross-dressing, transgender socials I went to that I wanted to be feminine, or I would not have been there.

The first time that I told anyone that I liked to wear women’s clothes was after a Halloween party I went to in the Army of all places. Weeks later, over way too much good German beer, the topic came up with friends about how realistic my “costume” was, all the way to my shaved legs. Since I was among a few very close friends, I took a big chance with risking the remainder of the time I had in the Army and told them I was a transvestite (the term used back then) and I liked to dress as a woman. I said nothing about being crazy, and I just liked to do it.

Of course, at that time in my life, I was busy running from the fact of how deep my gender issues went. I was hiding the fact from myself that no I was not crazy, I just wanted to be a transgender woman in the days when the term was first being used. “Running” for me back in those days meant changing jobs and locations frequently to keep my mind off what I was truly running from, my gender issues. Even with all the moves I was making, I could not outrun my life and occasionally the term “crazy” snuck into my thought pattern.

To compensate, I began to do “chores” which I considered feminine in nature such as doing part of the grocery shopping for my wife dressed as a ciswoman. When I succeeded with no problems, I started to feel so natural that I continually wanted to do more. So, I began to combine my grocery shopping adventures with new visits to big shopping stores to pick up small items I could afford such as a pair of panty hose, or new makeup. Amazingly, no one bothered me or shouted, “There is that crazy man in a dress.”

As the years went by, I learned that the ciswomen around me did not think I was crazy. They thought I was more curious than anything else as they wondered why I would leave the men’s club to play in their world. Ironically, as they were taking care of their curiosity, at the same time, I was learning from them. I had always envied girls (then women) so much as I followed them from afar, and now I had the chance to go back behind the gender curtain and learn first hand about the pluses and negatives of a ciswoman’s life and did I want to be a part of it or was I just following a crazy path off a cliff.

I learned quickly that I was following the right path, no matter how crazy it seemed at the time. The more I explored the world as a trans woman, I found the more exploration I needed to do but that was OK with me because again, my life for a change did not feel forced and so natural because I was not fighting to be something I was not…a man. All of a sudden, my life made sense and a was a special kind of crazy, a transfeminine person. At that point, I knew I would have to lose for good all the formidable white male privileges I had earned over the years. Even I was surprised to say “buh-bye” to all privilege I had built up.

Not all benefits I had living as a man were so easy to give up such as part of my intelligence and my personal security. I did not have many interactions with men one on one, but I learned the process of letting the man take the lead in most all situations. Especially when it came to sports, where I knew a lot about what was going on. The other privilege or benefit I needed to give up quickly was when it came to my personal security. I was not prepared for the world I was facing now in which I was fair game for any toxic man. I was fortunate to have escaped injury a couple of times when I broke the rules that ciswomen grow up with such as not finding your self in a compromising position on a dark city street all alone. I thought at the time, I was crazy to do it and never did it again.

Most recently, the craziest thing I have done is to let my precious Estradiol prescription run nearly all the way out. In fact, I am down to my last applications of patches this week as I am waiting for another refill which I have been notified is coming today. I have written in the past a couple of times about the paranoia I felt when I had a recent appointment with my endocrinologist who prescribes my HRT medications. It turned out that that all my crazy paranoia about the far reach of the orange felon in the White House rejecting any ideas of me receiving gender affirming care through the Veterans Administration would ever happen again. Instead, I received a prescription which will last me through another year until our next appointment.

Once again, it was proven that I am a special kind of crazy which I wish I had learned to embrace earlier in life. It would have made life so much richer just knowing I had the chance to experience life on both sides of the binary gender border.

 

 

 

 

 

Are We Having Fun Yet?

 

Image from Katie Treadway
on UnSplash.

Having fun as a transgender woman or transgender man can be difficult to define. First, let’s define fun as something that provides mirth and amusement. Which comes from “Dictionary.com.”

In my case, I cannot remember finding much “mirth and amusement” when I was cross dressing as much as I could to present as an attractive girl. All I can remember was that I was experiencing deep satisfaction when I thought I had succeeded. As I began to search for a better term, I went back to the “Dictionary.Com” to look up the definition of happy. Because happy is how I felt when I thought I had succeeded into transforming myself into a pretty girl. I was right when the definition of happy was “delighted, pleased or glad” when something was accomplished. It fit me totally because it worked in all aspects of what I was trying to do. Actually, it was all three of the delighted, pleased or glad definitions which fit me exactly.

The problem I was having was getting to the point where I could be happy about trying to cross the gender border. I severely struggled to find the fine line where I could disguise my broad shoulders and narrow hips of my testosterone poisoned body. I certainly was not happy or having any fun when I was brutally laughed at by the way I was trying to present myself as a woman in the world. As I always point out, back then teenaged girls were the biggest test I faced when I went to the malls and they seemed to be attracted to me like magnets, for all the wrong reasons. It took me a while to realize I was trying to dress like teenagers, which brought me completely undo attention. There was no way I could be happy.

What I also did not understand was that fun or being happy was a fleeting thing for me. Sort of what had you have done for me recently, type of thinking which I was very used to from how I was raised. For the most part, I was never allowed to be happy, so I did not miss it at all. I also say for the most part because slowly I began to discover I could feel happy when I was cross-dressing as a man into my true feminine self. When I was able to find the proper clothes, shoes and wigs which helped me with my appearance with my makeup, I could relax and enjoy a new world I had only dreamed of.  Fun became to me when I could escape the male world, I was forced to spend so much time in and explore all the new facets of being a confident transfeminine person. It made me happy to discover who I really was destined to be in life.

As I headed past the fun and happy part of discovering myself as a transgender woman, I needed to mention the satisfaction I felt when I had reached the point where my diet had kicked in and I could buy more stylish clothes in my own size for the first time ever in my life. I was ecstatic in my pre-hormonal HRT days when a cross-dresser friend of mine purged his feminine belongings and gifted me a set of silicone breast forms that I needed to run out and size just the right bra for.

Those were the early days of my explorations in Columbus, Ohio when I could attend very diverse by invitation only parties where I could see everyone from lesbians to transgender women considering gender realignment surgeries so I could have a idea of how I might want to live my life in the future. Almost every party I went to was to be a fun learning experience, and I could not wait for the next one. At the same time, I was thinking if I was having this much fun, how could it be wrong to have it.

The only negative I experienced was the night I was cornered in a narrow hallway by a huge admirer of crossdressers and almost learned the hard way about what ciswomen learn at an early age. To not put yourself in compromising positions with men which could possibly overpower you and get yourself into deep trouble. I was lucky that my wife came along to bail me out of the situation I unknowingly put myself into.  It was no fun hearing her, I told you so’s all the way home. Mainly because she did not approve of what I was wearing.

As my life progressed towards the ultimate goal of leading a fulltime life as a transgender woman, unfortunately, my wife stood right in my way of progressing.  Which meant I needed to cheat on her with another woman which was me. Every time I slipped out of the house in my heels, jeans or boots, I normally had a good time as I was finally having fun as a trans woman and did not want to ever give it up,  I had gone too far to ever look back to an old male life I never had a choice on living to start with. Like it or not, my life had put me on a collision course of having to decide what I was going to do about my marriage. The course was disrupted when my wife unexpectedly passed away from a massive heart attack leaving me tragically alone after twenty-five years of marriage.

Most certainly, those days of my life were no fun, and not filled with happiness. On the other hand, they were filled with uncertainty and loneliness until I could find my way home again. Thanks in no small part to my inner feminine self who took over my life and others such as my daughter and future wife Liz. Who helped to pull me from my major pity party. When that happened, life became fun again as I was able to lead a life in the feminine world I always wanted to be part of.

 

 

                               

 

 

There was Never a Maybe

 

Image from Marija Zaric 
on UnSplash. 

In my life, there were never any maybe moments about having gender issues, only a resounding yes, because I had them.

Time fades the memory, but I think the first inkling of the issues I had was when I began to experience very vivid dreams that I was indeed a pretty girl. That is when I went the only route, I knew how to go and secretly began to raid my mom’s clothing drawers and closets for her clothes I could still squeeze in to at the time. Before I knew it, I had somehow acquired my own “collection” of feminine clothes and makeup I used to practice my new artform. While the boys around me were practicing putting together model cars, I was busy practicing being a girl. At the time, all the practice flustered me, but would come back to help me later in life when I would not have to work so hard on the basics of presenting as a ciswoman.

The more I accomplished in my cross-dressing pursuits, the more I wanted to do because I felt so natural. Which was a huge clue to me that I was on the right gender path, and this part of my life had always been a deep part of me. If I had followed the clues and not ignored them, I would have been much better off in the long run. By putting my deep instincts off, I ended building up a successful but deeply destructive male life. Every time I built something up as a man, I needed to somehow destroy it because I did not want it to interfere with my possible upcoming male to female femininization project. I guess I could say the possibilities intrigued me as much as they terrified me. How would I ever be able to live as a transgender woman dominated most of my everyday life as I envied the lives of the ciswomen around me.

At the time, all of this was happening, all I was trying to do was experiment if my gender dream could ever come true and I could give up all my male privileges I had built up to try it. If I could do it, I could live it became my goal. Which was easier said than done because I was still living most of my life as a transfeminine person only in front of the mirror and not the world where I belonged. At times, making my way from the mirror was a brutal experience for me because the world treated me in ways that I really deserved when I did not dress myself in the proper way to hide the best I could my testosterone poisoned body and attracted undue attention. Not dressing to blend in with the other ciswomen around me was hurting me badly until I finally learned my lesson.

Probably what I suffered from the most was not having the role models I needed to help me in my male to female transition. It was very lonely in the pre-internet days with no social media tutorials to help new struggling trans women or cross dressers along. It was just me and the public to provide feedback on my progress because I discovered the mirror was quite OK with lying to me about how I looked. It would tell me I was attractive, then I would get immediately laughed back home by a group of teen girls was a prime example of what I was going through. I remember vividly the days when I began to seek out the girl’s attention to measure how well I was doing in the world, rather than running from it. I figured if I could succeed in passing my toughest tests anything was possible.

As I began to pass more and more feminine tests, my confidence began to grow, and I started to face my deepest dreams and fears that I could conceivably leave my old male path behind and carve out a life as a transgender woman. On my own in the world. All of this had its good and bad points. The good was that I was finally realizing after all this time I could live my dream and the bad was, what would I do about the remainder of my male life. At that time, I still had a very good marriage to deal with, as well as a family and successful job to consider. It was as if I was painting myself simultaneously into two gender corners which would be hard to get out of. I found wanting the best of both binary gender worlds was impossible to do and coming up soon I would have to decide which way I was going to have to go.

The decision I made turned out to be the easiest one and one I should have made long ago. I certainly had the gender issues I worried about endlessly and would have them as long as I lived. I had always thought that tomorrow would be the day I could figure it all out, but all the tomorrows started to become years and decades and I still hadn’t done anything about it. Gender procrastination at its finest, or its worst. Bottom line was the procrastination I was doing ended up hurting me in ways that I never imagined such as with my mental health which really paid the price of living the pressure of life in two genders. I needed to finish painting the gender corners I had put myself into and do it fast.

On one of the nights, I went out to try to be by myself, I ended up really socializing as a trans woman and enjoying myself. Right then, I decided I had made my final decision to pursue HRT and finally put what was left of my old male self to a permanent rest. It occurred to me then that the decision had always been made for me from those earliest days in the mirror I went through.

All the maybes were in my past. I could succeed as a trans woman, and I had a bright future ahead.

 

Chance versus Choice as a Trans Girl

 

Image from Brooke
Ballentine on UnSplash.

Chance versus choice for a transgender woman or transgender man can cover a wide spectrum of activities.

Chance included all the times in my life when I risked the very future of my male existence to attempt to live in the world as a new cross-dresser or trans woman, before the term was even invented. Choice included all the times I threw caution to the wind and took on the new world I was experiencing anyway. Deep down, I took the chances because I knew sooner or later, it would be the right thing to do and I could live full time as a transfeminine person.

Even still, it was never easy for me to take all the opportunities I had gained from simply practicing the artform of making myself up to be a convincing enough woman that I could blend in with most of the world. I found a large percentage of the population were in their own universe and did not care about mine anyhow. Then there was the number of people who were curious about me and wanted to know more about why I was switching gender clubs from male to female. Finally, there were the hateful bigots I tried to stay away from who for some reason saw me as some sort of threat to them.  The more chances I was taking, the easier it became for me to survive.

At this point, to make myself very clear, it literally took me decades to arrive at the point where I had a choice to be myself as I was very slow in deciding if I was making the right decisions in my life. As a parttime cross-dresser, I was basically providing myself with stop-gap measures to relieve myself of the pressures of living a male life I never should be living. I was stuck in the middle with me, and it was not a pleasant place to be. All that got me by were the brief moments of gender euphoria when I was able to navigate the world as a trans woman. But the biggest problem came when I began to experience my own form of impostor syndrome.

I was still enough of a man, operating successfully in a male world to not want to give it up, yet I was becoming enough of my own woman to keep moving forward. It put me in a bad place when I went to invites to girls’ nights out and in the middle of the evening suddenly felt as if I did not belong. In a relatively short period of time, I was able to work my way around the dreaded syndrome and relax and enjoy myself. I had as much of a right to accept the invitation as the next woman at the table as we enjoyed our combined femininity. The entire experience was so different than anything I had experienced at all the men’s parties I had ever been to that I could not wait for the next invitation to come in my direction.

When I was able to overcome my imposter syndrome, I was able to take advantage of having more choices while taking fewer chances. Most of the time, it came from knowing the venues I was going to and knowing ahead of time I would be accepted. Sure, I needed to take chances and choose new non-gay places to go but I desperately wanted to go to venues which reflected my tastes. My wants were simple, I wanted to drink draft beer, watch sports, use the women’s room when I needed to and be left alone. Which I found out that I could in several places, so I had a choice of where I wanted to go. I was living large as a trans woman with choices for the first time in my life.

As chance versus choice began to fade in my life, the choices began to take on extra meaning. I still had what was left of my male life to deal with and he was hanging on for dear life and fighting on to the end. He was tougher to give up because when he went, so did all my old white male privileges out the door with him. No job, no wife and possibly no family awaited my decision on which way I was going to live. Naturally, all the pressure wrecked what was left of my fragile mental health until destiny set in for me and overcame my chance versus choice idea altogether.

In a dark five-year period, I lost all but one of my closest friends to death including my wife who was the major drawback to my male to female gender transition. At the same time, I came out to my only child (daughter) who became my closest ally until my wife Liz came along. Add that to the Veteran’s Administration health care system announcing that they would start the process of administering gender affirming hormones or HRT to veterans who qualified and I did, so I was made an offer I could not refuse and began the process of closing out my male life completely. Destiny could not have made my path any clearer if it tried and I needed to seize the opportunity while I still could. Because I was near the age of sixty at the time. I needed to make my decision to live as a transfeminine person and not look back or forever try to live as the gender juggler I was. Which I could do no longer.  I needed to take the right way out and choose the one I should have always chosen.

I think all humans, trans or not face the chance versus choice decisions in their life, but it seems we transgender women and transgender men face more deeper challenges than most others. We risk our jobs, our families, our marriages and even our lives to live our truths, and few emerge from the process unscathed. Best wishes on you making it up your gender path the best you can. There can be brighter days ahead out of your dark, lonely gender closet.

 

 

 

 

 

When Every day is Day One

 

JJ Hart

We all know how difficult being a transgender woman or transgender man can be. For years, it seems as if you are starting on day one when you are trying to catch up with ciswomen who have lived a feminine existence their entire life.

For me, my journey started when on certain mornings when I did not know if I was going to be a boy (physically) or a girl (mentally) that day. My thoughts often came from vivid dreams I had from the night before that I was living a life as a pretty girl. I just couldn't shake the idea that something was wrong in my life, and I couldn't do much about it except occasionally cross dress in front of the mirror in mom’s clothes and makeup. When I did, early on I needed a lot of help with my makeup and everyday when I tried something new on my face, I was starting all over again. Plus, it did not help that most every time I cross-dressed, it was an adventure in not getting caught. Between my parents and my slightly younger brother, earning my private time to be on my own and be a girl was difficult.

It took me years to shake the idea that every day as a transwoman was still day one in my life. Mainly because, I was still learning so much from all the ciswomen I was around in my new world. I had plenty of stop signs on my gender path I needed to negotiate as I made my way towards my dream of living full-time as a transfeminine person. Some of the stop signs were busy four way stops when I really needed to stop, look both ways, and make the difficult decision to proceed. Looking back now, I don’t know how I managed not to have any major collisions with anyone but my second wife who unfortunately had a front row seat in my transition from just cross-dressing on a part-time basis all the way to considering HRT or gender affirming hormones as a transgender woman.

What kept me going was my deep-seated knowledge that what I was doing was right. All the cross-dressing I was doing was just practice towards a bigger, brighter future as a trans woman. Looking at it that way was certainly difficult, but it was all I could cling to if I was to keep my fragile mental health intact. As my wife told me when we were fighting about my gender that I made a terrible woman. So, I needed to find out what she meant because she added that she was not talking about appearance which I thought I was doing better with.

I set out at that time to re-dedicate myself to understanding a woman’s life. I was naïve at the time and thought I could learn more while I was still presenting as a man fulltime. Years later, when I had crossed the gender border publicly as a trans woman, I finally was invited back behind the gender curtain so I could learn a lot and not be a terrible woman. For most of you who do not know, my wife unexpectedly passed away from a massive heart attack after twenty-five years of marriage to me and she never was able to see the better woman I had become. Mainly because my time behind the curtain enabled me to start all over again and mold the new woman, I wanted to be. Including most of all the nuances and the layers a female must live through before she becomes a woman. My inner female was forced to stay back and be dormant for all those decades before she could claim her ultimate gender prize also. She just had to take a vastly different path to get there.

At that point in my life, everyday was day one again when I donated all my male clothes and vowed to never look back again at my male life. Which I ultimately found impossible to do. Male influences built me into the person I had become as a transgender woman and made me stronger in the process. I even brought experiences from the most male dominated part of my life to my gender table as I remembered the days I went through in Army basic training. There was no need to throw away valuable experience I could use in my new life.

It turned out to be the most exciting time of my life when I could finally live my truth in the world. And I was able to forget the dark days of my youth when I began to deeply question what gender I was. Having all the help I did to finally begin to fill out my gender workbook helped me too, even though I was rejected on occasion and needed to start all over again. I urge all of you who are considering a journey in life the way I did, is to be resilient and expect many ups and downs along the way. Most are just learning experiences anyway and can be valuable as you are allowed to play in the girls’ (or boys for you trans guys) sandbox. It takes time and experience for your confidence to grow as you navigate one of the most difficult paths a human being can take.

Slowly but surely, every day will not feel like day one as you get used to living a full-time life you have always dreamed of in a gender world you want to be a part of. For me, it was like taking a great deep breath of fresh air when I was finally checked out and was able to begin the long-awaited HRT which would transform my body outwardly and more intensely, inwardly. My entire being was telling me what took me so long when the male to female feminizing hormones hit my system. But I did not need the hormones to tell me who I was, they were like the icing on my transgender cake and made every day a better day.

 

 

Mother's Day and the Battle for Gender Supremacy

 

Image from Daiga Elaby
on UnSplash.

Before I get started on today’s post, I would like to mention Mother’s Day, and all it means to me. First of all, it gives me the chance to remember all the problems my mom went through to have me. Such as, going through three still born babies before my parents kept trying and had me. Without their determination, I would not be here today. Which is the main reason why I adopted my mom’s first name as my legal name when I changed it years ago.

Plus, even though my mom and I were much alike and fought quite a bit through my youth, I managed to use her as a roll model as I slowly grew into the daughter, she never accepted having. I view her now as a one of kind woman who presented herself to me as an unknowing roll model. Happy Mother’s Day to all of you reading today who may be ciswomen and birthed your own children! We all know how important you are to the world. If your mom is still around, do your best to try to bridge the gender gap. Although I was never able to do it with mine before she passed away years ago.

Now, on to the post for today which has to do with my remaining male gender and how he got in the way of my transfeminine progress in life. I already mentioned the fights I had with my mom as she taught me to fight like she did. Bring anything you could think of to make sure you have at least a decent chance of winning the battle you were in. I think she indirectly taught me valuable lessons about fighting as a girl because I had to resort to being mental and not physical with my fighting.

As it turned out, just the aspect of having fights with other males never materialized much with me as I was growing up. I tried to hide behind liking sports and cars to hide my true love of fashion and makeup to keep the bullies away and for the most part it worked. It also worked when I failed at trying something such as sports, getting beat, and having the chance to run home and soothe my feelings behind one of my favorite dresses and makeup.

This plan was all well and good when I was just dealing with just minor athletic events and became much more serious when it came to activities such as work and life in general. I quickly learned that if I was to be successful, I could not just take my feelings home and cross-dress, I needed to stay there and fight. I needed to push hard to keep my transgender issues at bay and take care of myself. Even though in the background, my feminine self was always waiting to get out and thrive in the world. Sort of like that app on your computer which is always running in the background. Because every situation I faced, I secretly wondered how I would face it as a trans woman. At that point, I needed to face the real possibility that I would just have to experiment with new situations in life from the view that ciswomen do.

That was when I got out of the gay venues I was going to and back into the straight venues I had grown used to going to as a man. Of course, I found the entire process to be extremely terrifying yet natural as I settled down into my new world. A world where I did not have to worry about what my feminine instincts were telling me as I was actively acting upon them. I was free and gender for once was not getting in my way. All I had to worry about was my fear of discovery disrupting my new life.

To my surprise, most of the world around me did not seem to care there was a novice trans woman around them. No one screamed “Hey! That’s a man” when I entered the room and at the worse all I received in response was a few stares. Mostly from women. When I did, I always made sure to stand up straight and try to make eye contact if a could as if to say what is wrong with you? There is nothing wrong with me. As we all know, humans are like sharks in the water who are attracted to blood. When I showed the hard-earned confidence, I gained to project my authentic feminine self, the sharks left me alone. I can’t emphasize enough though the bumps and bruises I took to my ego to find the much-needed confidence to get by.

I did get by and stopped most all my gender battles which helped me to end all the self-destructive behavior I had carried around with me for decades. It certainly took a while for all the emotional scarring to go away and for me to clean up my act. As I always say, it was like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders when I finally gave in to the transfeminine person I always was meant to be. And I was allowed to continue to fill out my gender workbook as I was socialized in the world of ciswomen by the small group of women friends, I had built around me. I was able to learn a little or a lot from all of them except for one. Which was my biggest issue…

In other words, the biggest boulder on my path to move was getting my male gender out of the way. He was stubborn and hung on to his male privileges as long as he could. All to no avail. I finally had to give up on trying to use all my old male strength to help me and resorted to a more feminine approach of slowly chipping away at portions of the rock. Success led to more success and before I knew it, I had a new exciting path to my future open for me ahead. It was bright, exciting and I never wanted to even think about going back.

 

 

 

 

Graduation Season

 

Image from Logan Isbell
on UnSplash.

It is graduation season around me, and it brought up all sorts of memories of my own graduations. Many far from the usual school graduations everyone thinks about when we think about moving on with life. Plus, it goes much further than just thinking about the pretty new fashions women get to wear on their celebration days. If they choose to do it.

When I look all the way back to my high school graduation days, I always tie it with the prom season which was very close to it. My senior year was actually my second prom, but nothing really changed. I was still very envious of my date’s beautiful prom dress and corsage (which I had to buy her) to add insult to injury. No matter how hard I tried, I wanted the high heeled shoe to be on my foot and not hers and I would be taken out for the evening. Graduation was not as bad as prom because every graduate had to wear the same black gowns, hiding their new fashions until they went to an after-graduation party. But, even so, I still had misgivings about what I was facing following my graduation. As I faced hurdles such as surviving college and the military service which sometime made my gender issues pale in comparison.

Even though I realized a college graduation was in my future too, I did not think of all the other times I would have to graduate in life to survive. Examples included the times in the Army when I needed to graduate basic training all the way to making my way through the “Defense Information School” in Indianapolis. Time was flying by as I transitioned from the college world to the Army and back again three years later when I pursued my second college degree. Aside from brief moments of regression and purging, my desire to be a transfeminine person never went away and was in fact getting stronger. Little did I know I was facing more graduations confined only to how I viewed myself as a person.

Backtracking a bit and going back to my very first time I saw myself in girl’s clothes and makeup in front of a mirror. I realized I had graduated from being a so called “normal” boy forever. Plus, there would be several future gender graduations when I transitioned from being a cross-dresser to a transgender woman and when I began to take HRT or gender affirming hormones under a doctor’s care and took another major step towards my dream of being a fulltime trans woman.

By the time I had gone through all these graduations, even I would have thought I would have grown tired of the process. But I did not. I started to crave the next step in my occupation and my life as a transgender woman. Which put me on a collision course for my future. It came down to which one I would save after the major gender collision in my life. Following years and years of success, one would just have to go. Just trying to look ahead up my winding gender path became a major problem as increasingly carving out a life as a novice transfeminine person on my own terms became a priority over every thing else, I loved in my life.

At this point, my graduations began to slow down and became smaller in nature. Every time I was successful at trying to be the person I always wanted to be, I celebrated my own mini gender victory and resolved to do better on my path. No longer did I have to be envious of the ciswomen around me, since I was allowed to be behind the gender curtain. Which was another graduation for me, as I loved it. It was a major reward for all the work I put into filling out my gender workbook. As a matter of fact, it was the best graduation I had ever had in my life.  If I wanted to, I could wear the pretty dress all the other women around me were wearing.

Until then, I think I was taking all the graduations and transitions I was taking for granted. I was not raised to think anything I did was good enough, so being pleased with my progress towards my dream and being happy about it was a first for me. Ironically, I even was able to use the same restroom in the dinner club I took my second prom date to years later when it became a gay venue. It was as close as I could ever come to reliving the inadequacies I felt so long ago as I looked at myself in the women’s restroom mirror.

Humans are blessed to be able to graduate to many different levels as they transition through life. It is sad because of whatever reason, some people (men and women) are never socialized to make it to a point when they can claim the status of being a man or a woman. They are doomed to never making it past the stage of being male or female and never took the opportunity to graduate to the next level of life. They are the ones who are jealous of and hate transgender women and transgender men for reasons they do not even understand. Often, they are stuck in the past and never have the chance to escape.

If you are busy trying to figure out your next stop on your gender journey, I hope you can take the next careful step and graduate to the level you want to be. In the end, graduation is much more than having a framed certificate for your wall and who would consider having a framed certificate saying you made it to your own form of womanhood above your desk anyhow. Wouldn’t that be something?

Your destination should be your own sense of satisfaction or even happiness because you undertook one of the most difficult journeys a human can take. Congratulations!

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                       

 

Working Smarter not Harder as a Trans Girl

 

Image from Erik Mclean 
on UnSplash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

 

Endocrinologist Visit Today

 

JJ Hart at a recent
Cincinnati Pride. Ohio River
in background. 

Just a shorter post because my endocrinologist annual visit is today.

The only paranoia I have is that for some reason, she will not renew my HRT medications for Estradiol and Spironolactone. You may ask why I would have any nervous energy before my virtual appointment, and it is because I am part of the Veterans Administration health care system which is always making changes.

Recently, I had another one of my medical providers “retire” and I needed to switch my care from the Dayton VA to the Cincinnati VA which is closer to me. Fortunately, I was able to make it a seamless switch and even was able to visit my local VA clinic for my initial appointment with my new therapist, which I really liked. But all of that had to do with my mental health medications which the VA puts a higher priority on than prescribing medications which have made my gender transition possible. In fact, it was not so long ago that the orange felon in Washington DC assigned a new VA commissioner who was making threatening suggestions about doing away with gender affirming therapy in the VA altogether.

To my knowledge, nothing ever really became of that statement and the rank-and-file VA employees found ways of getting around it.

Another paranoia I have is my “Endo” in Dayton is being retired too and I will have to seek out new assistance in Cincinnati which in itself is not a bad thing except when it comes to where I must go for appointments. Going to the main VA hospital downtown is always a congested mess and I always must ask Liz to take me because of my mobility issues. If I can just go to my local clinic or have a virtual appointment, there are usually no problems.

My current “endo” usually prescribes me a years’ worth of medications unless there are any changes in my Estradiol blood levels. For some reason, after years of staying the same, my levels went down quite a bit on my last test. Which is the last thing I wanted to happen. So I will have to see what she says about it because I am still undecided on switching from patches to injections at my age.

Most importantly, I am who I am, and my HRT does not define me but it surely has helped. I will never forget all the extreme gender changes my new hormones put me through and would hate to lose all I gained. Who knows, maybe I am just building bridges to climb when I don’t have to with this upcoming appointment. She will maintain the long-term stability and status quo we have built up over the years, and our annual visits will continue.

One way or another, I will let you know.

 

 

 

Life is Too Short to be Ordinary.

 

Image from Frolicsome Fairy
on UnSplash.

I saw this quote on a television show I watch regularly and it resonated as a transgender woman with me. Here is the quote: “Life is too short to be ordinary.”  I immediately thought that a trans woman’s or trans man’s life is anything but ordinary in the world we live in today.

I also thought of a few of the final battles I had with myself before I finally gave in to my feminine desires at the age of sixty and decided to try to enter the transfeminine world permanently. It was never a move I took lightly, which was probably one of the reasons it took me so long to make my final choice to join the girls’ club and leave the good old boys’ club behind.

What I attempted to do was weigh all the good and bad I had accomplished in my long life and use it to make my decision. To be fair, I did have many male experiences which I felt I needed to take into consideration as positives I would have to leave behind if I proceeded with my male to female feminization efforts. The end result was I found that I did not live an ordinary life for several reasons, and one of them was because I spent so much time on the gender path I obsessed about. The others involved just the ordinary life’s challenges that everyone goes through such as maintaining a family, a marriage and trying to be successful in a profession you can tolerate. I kept coming back to my gender issues which set me apart from the great majority of the world, in a good way.

Along the way, I had come to appreciate the difference between the two main binary genders by actually having the chance to live them. It occurred to me that I was having a chance very few humans have the chance to do and I should make the best of it and keep going. At the time, I was spending approximately half of my time in the world as a transgender woman anyhow, so the jump to going fulltime was becoming less and less intimidating to me.

One of the main final factors I needed to consider was how natural I felt living in each gender I was trying to maintain. After hours of thought and contemplation, I came to the realization I had never felt natural as a man. I had to struggle to make any long-lasting friends and it seemed all my accomplishments were for my public persona only. As I always say, I was never a man cross-dressing as a woman. I was a woman cross dressing as a man. From that, I realized I had always felt more comfortable as a feminine person and time was running short for me to grasp the opportunity to change for good. I was sixty at the time and it did not take a genius to realize I had lived more years than I still had to go on this earth.

Finally, it struck my stubborn head that I had been blessed to live everything but an ordinary life and I should follow my natural inclination to stay in a feminine mode. When I did, it was as if I was allowed to take a ton of rocks from my shoulders. As I assumed the life I always should have lived, I began the finishing touches of my new existence by being approved for HRT or gender affirming hormones by a doctor I read about in a local LGBTQ newspaper I saw. My body’s reaction was simple and to the point and I could hear it saying what took you so long as the changes from the hormones were so natural and immediate. In fact, the changes came so fast that I needed to move up my timeline for when I would transition completely away from my old male self.

It does not seem possible that all those gender changes were over fifteen years ago now and my world changed as positively as I ever hoped that it would. The path I took was completely personal and had its share of stop signs and blind curves but somehow, I made it. Probably because my inner self felt it was the only way to go. If working from a male background to being a transfeminine person was the way my path took me, I would gladly go along for the ride. The ride turned out to be uniquely interesting along with being extremely scary when I gave up and lost all my male privilege before I learned the essence of having female privileges.

I was fortunate that I was blessed with a healthy long life. Long enough to see the circle come around from gender darkness to light. So, you could say, my life was long enough to make it interesting and look around all those steep walls and blind curves to see what was on the other side waiting for me.

If the world would let it be, gender is just a human need on a spectrum like so many others and trans people are just trying to live their lives like so many others. And I know gender is much more than a black and white reality to all of us. You can view yourself anywhere from a weekend cross-dresser all the way to a post-op woman and all should be accepted under our complex umbrella of people. It’s just another way we are far from ordinary and difficult for the average person to understand. It is also difficult to explain to a loved one when we do not fully understand what is going on ourselves, which often takes a long time to happen.

Rest assured that even if your life may be different and/or difficult at times, I will be far from ordinary.

Thank you all for your comments, claps and new subscriptions! Without all of you, none of what I try to pass along would be worth it.

 

 

 

Courage or Something Else?

 

Image from Miquel Bruna
on UnSplash. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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