If I was a Betting Person

 

Image from Jeshoots.Com on 
UnSplash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

 

 

Be Safe rather than Sorry

 

Toxic male from UnSplash

Before I begin this post, I have a disclaimer. I did not follow what I preached many times when I opened my dark gender closet door and ventured out into the public. I broke many unwritten rules I knew were true.

I will say, the times when I came out were much different than today. Not so much kinder and gentler to transgender women and trans men. Mainly, what I am referring to is the person at the top ruining the nation we have, and I don’t have to mention who he is. Basically, he is the top toxic male who empowers all the other toxic males who potentially can give us trouble. There is a real difference in just being laughed at all the way to being physically attacked.

In my case, as I always mention, my initial problem was drawing attention to myself rather than learning how to blend in with other women. I was fortunate I grew out of that phase quickly before I got into trouble other than just being laughed at.

Another of the main issues I encountered was how I was presenting myself once I was fairly confident, I could get by. What I mean was I was going out primarily as a single woman. Which is primarily something ciswomen just don’t do. They believe there is strength in numbers I just did not have. To make up for it, I tried to make sure I did not sit down next to a man if I could help it, and if there just happened to be a vacant seat, I tried to mark it is as mine. What I tried to do was use my cell phone as my major prop. Especially if it was during the warm weather months when I could not throw my jacket over the seat next to me and reserve it. Often, I would act like I was texting a potential friend on the phone who was going to join me. Anything to throw a toxic male off my path.

 I learned quickly when I discovered how much nonverbal communication went on between women that men knew nothing about. One night I had a prime example when a toxic man tried to strike up a conversation with me at one of the places, I was a regular at. When he did, I received a nonverbal warning from one of the bartenders I knew about him, so I rapidly left the venue before anything happened.

All of those methods I used helped me to survive in a new exciting world as I left the gay venues behind me and started to learn what the real world was all about. All very important points if I was ever going to make it to my dream of living as a transgender woman. My learning experiences turned out to be tremendous.

As I said, times have changed today and so much more is at stake for all of us. Whereas a couple years ago, a stranger would be less likely to say anything to you. These days, all of that has changed. There is more pressure on all of us to put our best foot forward as transfeminine people. I always mention the weight I lost when I first came out. Which helped me to buy more stylish clothes and obviously look better. At the same time, I began a very serious skin program which started every day after I shaved. I was doing as much as I could to improve my overall feminine self. All of it gave me confidence to move forward, which I needed badly.

Finally, I would be remiss if I did not mention the loss of your male personal security when you enter a new feminine world. Don’t take chances with your security by doing the things cisgender women already know. To the best of their ability, they try not to park in dark unmarked areas unless they have strength in numbers. As I read, in some areas, women even have to guard their drinks from toxic men trying to drug them. Can you imagine that? Well, you have to when you go through a male to female transition.

This entire post urges you to be on your game when you come out. Among other things, be careful how you carry your purse in crowded areas. It all adds a level of acceptance as a trans woman which goes far past your basic appearance which of course is important too.

In todays’ world, it is important to know your circumstances at all times, not unlike a cisgender woman who learned what to do around toxic males. Look at it this way, you will be a more complete woman ready to earn your place in today’s world.

 

 

Damn its Hot in here

 

Image from Jon Tyson
on UnSplash. 

It is “patch day” for me. One of the days during the week when I change out my Estradiol hormonal patches. Every time I do it, I take the time to remember the changes I went through when I started gender affirming hormones or HRT.

Of course there were the much-publicized changes such as breast growth, changes in skin, and generous hair growth. Very quickly, I was able to put my wigs away and have my own hair styled professionally and begin to use much less makeup to present well. What I did not count on was the internal effects the HRT had on me. All of a sudden, I had emotions I had never had before, and I could cry.

One of the more humorous experiences I had was the night I experienced my first ever hot flash. I was out to be alone that night and was completely caught off guard when the heat hit me. In fact, I had just stopped thinking about how chilly it was in the venue and how I might have to put on my jacket to stay warm. Something I never had to do back in my male years. Suddenly my own thermostat seemed to be ruined, and I was paying the dues for all the times I thought the women around me were just making it up when they said they were cold. Then, I did not need my jacket at all when all hell broke loose, and I felt as if I was on fire. I quickly looked around to see if anyone else noticed my predicament, but no one did. I wondered at the time how they could not, but my heat must have been internal in nature. Later on, that evening, I tried to explain what had happened to me to my cisgender friends and they just laughed me off saying welcome to their world.

Now patch day once a year comes down to my annual mammogram. Since my maternal grandmother passed away years ago from breast cancer, my primary medical provider at the Veterans Administration makes sure every year I have a mammogram to be safe. If you have never experienced a mammogram, there is some brief discomfort but nothing like the alternative. So, I consider it a rite of passage when I have one.

It turned out for me there were many rites of passage to come as I went through a male to female transition. I had taken the appearance aspect of transitioning just about as far as I could and then faced a real decision in my life. Should I seek out a doctor to prescribe gender affirming hormones. I went to my local Dayton, Ohio LGBTQ resource guide and found a doctor and decided to make an appointment to see if I was healthy enough to begin HRT. This was way back in the days before the VA decided to include hormone therapy as a choice for gender dysphoric vets, so the doc I chose was the only logical choice. He asked me a few key questions about what I was prepared to lose of my male lifestyle and then approved me for a minimum dosage of medications to start my journey.

I started on pills and very soon they became a lifeline for a better world for me. Fairly quickly, after I showed no ill effects to the new hormones, I was prescribed larger dosages, and my body took to them naturally.  Then it got hot with my thought pattern of what I was going to do about all the changes which were happening to me. I was appearing very androgynous which was noticeable to others who knew me, so I needed to change my transition timetable because I was running out of time. In short, hormones slammed the door shut on my male life I had worked so hard to achieve. It was mine to give away, and I gladly did it.

Now, as I change my hormonal Estradiol patches out, I stop to remember the old male days and how I felt in my body and say a silent prayer that I have suffered no ill effects in my decade plus journey on HRT. I always take time to urge everyone considering femininizing their body through hormones, to seek guidance from a doctor before you do it. As I have seen the results of unregulated hormone therapy. The process is nothing to play with.

As I look back on the benefits of all the therapists and doctors I have seen over the years (and continue to see), being able to feel the heat of becoming a transgender woman was worth the effort.

 

 

 

Diversity versus Adversity

 

Image from Nik on UnSplash.

I was shocked and disappointed when I heard the first flimsy reports that the Minneapolis shooter was transgender and that the Cracker Barrel restaurant corporate higher ups had deleted their LGBTQ page from their on-line presence. As a community, the transgender women and trans men don’t need any more bad publicity or adversity as we careen towards the 2026 midterm elections. It seems diversity in our society is increasingly in short supply led by you know who, TACO tRumpt the clown.

Hopefully, Cracker Barrell can be boycotted to the point that Target was and be led farther down their financial rathole and the public at large will quit listening to the same old lies spewed by the Republican politicians about the trans community, but in my native Ohio at least, I will believe it when I see it. In the two major elections (governor and senator) two tRumpt supported candidates are running and the ignorant populace of Ohio has not figured out yet, they have been fleeced of their rights.

On the bright side, and there is one, I live in a blue (democratic) leaning part of Cincinnati and I have recently seen two new diversity yard signs in front of homes where my wife Liz and I take our morning walks. But we don’t vote for the city of Cincinnati mayor since we are in a suburb, and I fear for the re-election of the Democratic mayor who has done a terrible job dealing with all of the violence mainly in the downtown area. And to make matters worse, his opponent is JD Vance’s brother and is as worthless. Maybe I am being paranoic, but I doubt it the way politics have gone around here. However, the Democratic mayor has done a great job of supporting the local LGBTQ community.

As far as diversity versus adversity goes, it sure feels like we transgender women and trans men must once again get ready for our unfair share of adversity. Hopefully, the “blue wave” midterm vote will wash away all the worthless politicians who have refused to stand up to TACO and are ruining our country. I am so afraid I am dealing with seeing the end of America as I know it.

I always say what can you do? A lot even if you are deep in your gender closet, take the time to research ALL of your candidates down to the school boards where the political roaches first sneak in, because once you get roaches, it is difficult to get them out. Just think about your future and how it may change if your situation changes to the point where you can complete your transition. What sort of world will you want to transition into. One with diversity and kindness, or the one we are seeing now.

Plus, for those of you who are fortunate to live in more liberal parts of the country, appreciate and hold on to your freedoms. Hopefully you will never have to go through the barrage of lies against the transgender community that we go through in Ohio. Such as the man running for senate approved all elementary school sex change operations. At some point, all the serious Democratic candidates (including Newsom) are going to have to learn the proper response to the BS questions such as do you approve of men playing women’s sports. It is a simple answer, if they just use it. Trans women are not men at all.

It's happened folks. It is time for an all-hands approach to supporting our candidates for office. I just hope it is not too late for diversity over adversity to triumph. It can be done, look at what happened to Target when they rejected the LGBTQ community. Do it to Cracker Barrel now.

The elected officials in Washington are not clowns, they are dead serious about taking your rights away, no matter how you identify, cross dresser or transgender, it does not matter, the warning signs are there.

 

 

 

When Who You Are is Against the Law

 

Kim Davis wants YOUR Rights.

Yesterday, the spineless governor of my native Ohio agreed with the felon/pedo in chief tRumpt to send national guard troops to Washington DC.

The move was a stark reminder to me of how close we are as a nation to a fascist state with a dictator in charge. And, on the battle lines are transgender women and transgender men who at least here in Ohio have watched as our rights have been taken away by a heavily gerrymandered Republican legislature who prefers doing its dirty work under the late-night cover of darkness.

I am extra paranoid because I vividly remember the gay/ cross dressers being rounded up in police buses when I was young in Dayton, Ohio. I certainly don’t want those times to return for myself or especially for my transgender grandchild.

Especially horrific are the Caitlyn Jenners of the world who insist on supporting the regime in Washington. Obviously, they never really learned how it was to have their rights taken away. Perhaps you noticed, I refused to refer to Jenner as “she.” Recently, on a popular social media site I am on, a rather spirited (to say the least) discussion about cross dressers and transgender women. The moderator waded in with some sort of a statement that cross dressers cannot be transgender women and tied the discussion all in with the male privileges CD’s refuse to give up the way trans women have. Then used Jenner as an example. Being smart for a change, I stayed completely out of the fray. Almost.

I did use the example of the cross dressers and/or transgender women I knew who were strong orange felon supporters. I will never understand how they could throw themselves or the trans community under the bus and keep doing it. Their excuse was, he couldn’t be that bad. Well, he was.

Then there are the comfortable gay and lesbian tRumpt supporters who sat back in their shells and thought all the misery being brought upon the transgender community couldn’t happen to them. Now Kim Davis is back asking the corrupt supreme court to formally destroy the same sex marriage ruling the gays and lesbians celebrated so many years ago. Now their refusal to get totally behind the transgender community in our time of need is coming back to haunt them. It could and would be coming around again.

I know one of the problems with this post is I stereotyped too many people along the way. I know many in the gay, lesbian, and cross-dressing community who don’t support the sick felon and do support the trans community and that is powerful because we need everyone behind us in these desperate times.

Just imagine if you are a novice crossdresser trying to decide if you want to attempt to jump out of your gender closet and are afraid of being arrested. It’s uncomfortably close to happening in states such as Ohio. The midterms are coming and make sure you vote from your closet for the right candidates.

On the bright side (and there always is one), there are pockets of support in major cities around the country. If you are struggling, try to find a LGBTQ support group to help you come out. In the meantime, buckle up for a rough ride and stay safe.

Sorry for the rant, sometimes I just have to vent.

Deadly Serious

 

Image from Nicholas COMTE
on UnSplash

Looking back at my long (50 year) gender journey, I wonder now how I became so deadly serious as I considered myself more than a casual cross dresser.

I came a long way from just experimenting with my mom’s clothing to where I am today. As I live fulltime as a transgender woman. Many days, if I have the time to even think about it, I wonder how I went about connecting my dots during my travel from the male to female gender. But, before I go any farther, I should mention two things. First of all, I have nothing against cross dressers, as I spent too many years being one to attempt to put myself up on any sort of gender pedestal. Secondly, I don’t consider myself a female in the strictest sense of the word. That is why you might notice I use the transgender or transfeminine word more frequently. In addition, I strongly feel the woman word (and man) are both socialized terms as many females or males never make it to being true women or men. Now, since I got all of that out of the way, what does that have to do with being deadly serious about anything. Not much, but I always like to clear the air.

In my life, I can only remember being deadly serious about two things, the first was following an often-vague path to my own version of womanhood and the other was Army basic training. In the Army, your secondary MOS or job classification is infantry which means I received the same training as everyone else who were going to Vietnam for a very uncertain future. So, the bottom line was, I took my military training deadly seriously. Just in case I needed it later. Fortunately, I never did. Naturally, pursuing my feminine path was destined to be just the opposite.

It seemed, the more I tried to do as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman, the more I wanted to do. I forced myself away from the easy gender experiences I was trying, into a true interaction with the world and my challenges became much more serious but not quite to the deadly stage. I think the reason was, I was still experimenting with people as strangers. Not like somebody I would see more than once. I was naïve and thought people would not remember me for what I was, a man in drag or a dress. When other people began to see me repeatedly it was good for both of us because I needed to up my presentation game and quit changing wigs every time I went out. To succeed in the new world I was creating, people needed to see I was deadly serious about being accepted in the new mainstream venues I was going to when I gave up on going to the gay venues I tried.

More importantly, I lived through all the bumps and bruises I suffered as I silently fought back against the gender bigots I faced. Some of which were not so silent as I attempted to enter the so-called women only spaces such as restrooms. One night, I was called a pervert by an irate cisgender woman before I backed her down. She was the one I had to threaten with LGBTQ sanctions on her business if she did not leave me alone. Which she did.

The more comfortable I became in my transgender world, the more deadly serious I became about doing more. Soon I was to the point where I was like a runaway train heading down a one-way track as my manhood was coming to an end. One of the final acts of severing what was left of him came when I was approved for and started gender affirming hormones or HRT. My body took to the new hormones flawlessly to the point when I wondered why I hadn’t been on them all along.

The reason was relatively simple, as the changes from the HRT would preclude me from going back to the male life I had worked so hard to establish. Would I be deadly serious enough to risk all I had built up such as a long-term marriage, a family and friends plus a very good job which I could have never transitioned on.

Finally, after years of introspection, I made the decision to go as far as I could without surgery into a transgender life. With all I had to lose at the age of sixty, I decided “playtime” was over, and it was time to be deadly serious again and never look back as I had reached my dream of living in a transfeminine world.

 

Hormones in my Life

 

Image from Mitch
on UnSplash.

This morning, as I changed out my Estradiol hormonal patches, I briefly paused to consider the magical changes HRT has meant for me.

My thoughts were formed yesterday when I wrote a short chapter in my book I was writing on my life that my daughter bought for me. As I remember, the question of the week for me was how I responded to changes to my body over my life. I started by writing about how bad I felt when my body began to form angles when I went through male puberty. It was long ago, but I still remember my disappointment. This was way before the time of puberty blockers for young transgender boys and girls. Not that my parents would have approved of blockers for me anyhow.

I followed up my ideas on male puberty with what had happened to me since I was fortunate enough to be approved for gender affirming hormones and I could experience a second puberty in my life, this time, one I wanted. Even though I was attempting to overcome all the damage testosterone did to my body, I could not fix most of it. I was stuck with broad shoulders and a big male torso which served me well to keep bullies away but did little to help me to present well as a transgender woman.

On the positive side, the new HRT meds were able to soften the harsh angles of my face and soften my skin, so I could use less makeup. I also found I had no male pattern baldness, so my hair grew so well one of the first things my daughter did was treat me to a hair styling and color at her upscale women’s beauty salon. Another case of being totally out of my old male environment and loving it. After my fear went away. At that point, I was loving my new life.

My new life as a transfeminine woman took on a new meaning as I adjusted to my new body. Gone were the old days of blustering my way through life with my male body. In were the days of being more in tune what was my body telling me from newly sensitive breasts to a developing transgender woman’s’ intuition, I was really changing. By intuition, I mean I needed to develop a sense of anyone who was going to potentially threaten me with any harm. Much of the new development was not much of a problem because I was going through so many other internal changes anyhow. The easiest way to explain it is, my world went from the harsh realities of being male, all the way to the softening universe of being a woman.

Also gone were the days of me attempting to macho my way through any situation. From being able to admit when I was cold, all the way to planning ahead to any potentially dangerous situations, it all presented me with a new world to consider. All because of two little Estradiol patches I applied twice a week. It was magic to me how well and how fast they worked. It was as if my body was waiting for the HRT meds my entire life.

It is not often that I have the opportunity to slow down my everyday life and consider the benefits of being approved for gender affirming hormones. I needed to go to a physician back in those days which were relatively difficult to find. On one hand I had seen the health problems other transgender women had gone through when they went the route of unsupervised hormones. Since I was near the age of sixty at the time, I did not want to risk any health issues and fortunately, there weren’t any. Even though I do not remember the exact year I started HRT, I remember I took my first dosage which were pills with my future wife Liz on New Year's Eve. From there, I progressed to higher dosages and eventually to the patches I am on today.

Which brings me full circle to the meaning of this post. With or without the hormonal medication I am on, I would still identify as transgender. HRT just helped my external presentation in the public’s eye. And, if you are considering hormones, you don’t need them to be you either. If you do, make sure you seek out a doctor to help you to know all is well before you make the jump.

For me, the HRT process was the final point of knowing I was doing the right thing by jumping off the gender cliff I was on. It sure made the landing softer.  

Purging

 

JJ Hart from back in Ed's and Michelle's
time.

For many transgender or cross dresser women, rarely have we lived a life when we never wanted to go back to our male selves. A common term for the practice is called “purging.”

Like many of you, I have experienced my share of trying to purge away my gender issues. About the time I thought I was entering a high-profile stage of my feminine life, I began to feel guilty and wanted to throw it all away. Then, I learned there were different stages of purging. For example, when I was purging, I never could seem to throw out or give away all my hard earned, cherished feminine wardrobe and makeup away. Deep down I always left the door open to my closet for a return to cross dressing as I called it back in those days.

Then there was Ed, an acquaintance I had who really defined purging to me. Ed was a frustrated cross dresser who at the least was having problems with his family and at the same time dealing with several very serious health problems. Before he reached a crisis point with his health problems, he decided to give away all his cross-dressing items. With Ed, that meant a lot. He needed to empty out an entire storage unit he rented to hide his wigs, wardrobe and makeup from his family. I turned out to be on the receiving end of his gifts. He gave me a nice set of silicone breast forms he purchased as well as a plastic tackle box full of expensive makeup.

What ever happened to him I will never know, the last I heard from him was decades ago when he was increasingly becoming more and more negative concerning a transgender friend of ours. Michelle was very beautiful and was headed towards gender realignment surgery, and I think Ed had developed deeper feelings for her than just friendship. He never confided in me if that was the case which leaves me to yet another unclosed mystery in my life. Along with what my deceased wife would have thought of me if she ever knew me as a more complete transgender woman.

Even as I continued to progress along my transgender path, I found myself to be a contradiction of terms. I did not know for the longest time how I fit in on the gender spectrum. I had an idea I was more than a casual cross dresser such as Ed was but was I as serious about becoming a fulltime woman as Michelle was. Being in the middle as always tortured my frail mental health as I did not know which way I wanted my life to go.

Initially, I decided I could take the pressure no longer and purged my feminine fashion and makeup…almost. I compromised and did not throw out my favorite wig, sweater and Ed’s silicone breast forms. So, I had left the door wide open to return to a life I had always thought deep down, I could never leave behind. Slowly but surely, I rebuilt my wardrobe, added another wig and purchased new makeup to fill Ed’s tackle box I still owned.

That was the last time I tried to purge my physical belongings, helping to calm my transfeminine longings down. Following the many times in life I attempted to purge my life away from my deep-seated gender desires, I finally learned that I could not easily throw my real life in the trash. I also lost track of Ed and Michelle long ago and the last I heard from Michelle was she had gone ahead with her gender surgeries and was living with a lesbian in nearby Columbus, Ohio.

I just wish I had the foresight to understand how close purging was to my overall wellbeing than the obvious. All along, I thought I was trying to rid my feminine self of her external possessions when in reality, I was proving the futility of trying to deny the person I was always destined to be.

In a full circle moment, I was able to grow my own breasts thanks to gender affirming hormones or HRT and donate my silicone breast forms Ed gave me to a swap out at a transgender-cross dresser support group meeting I attended. As I mentioned, he had very serious health issues, and I doubt if he is still alive today. In a moment of clarity, I remembered his full name and searched for it on Facebook to no avail.

One way or another, I view purging yet another unique sideline of following a gender path. As far as I was concerned, I not so slyly resisted completely throwing away all of my wardrobe, shoes, wigs and makeup I acquired. I never knew when I would go back, I just knew I could.

Life is too Short

 

Image from Brian Wangenheim 
on UnSplash.

Time is a precious commodity and life is too short.

Days, weeks, months and years are especially precious for many transgender women and transgender men. Mainly, if you waited until later in life to break out of your gender box and transition. Which is what I did.

I could and did look at my cross-dressing years as practicing for the big event of coming out as a transgender woman. While I improved my overall skills in wardrobe and makeup basics, there always seemed to be something I was missing. Actually, there were two main things I was missing, not just one. The first one was the realization I had my idea of cross-dressing backwards. I was never a man cross-dressing as a woman, I was a woman cross-dressing as a man. The second major realization was I would have to go through several transitions to meet my goal. An example was, I needed to transition from being a cross dresser to being a transgender woman if I was ever going to make it to where I wanted to go as a transfeminine person.

To accomplish my dream, I needed to take my second wife’s advice and set out to learn what a real woman went through in life. There was so much more than just being the “Pretty, pretty princess” as she called me. The problem was, she was always my feminine gatekeeper when I tried to explore the new and exciting world I was seeking. She did not want me to make it. She was a strong person and made it tough on me to progress in any way on my gender path but still I persisted.

Time went on and the years passed me by as I went to transgender-crossdresser parties and mixers to see what I could learn. Even then, when I hit my forties, I had a sense of desperation as time went on with me, and nothing major was happening on my gender front. It was during this time of my life when I started to escape my closet and explore the world. Mainly, I was carving out a totally new life where people knew nothing of my old male self. I was free to be the new me I wanted so bad.

After I went through the darkest period of my life when I lost nearly everything and everybody who was near and dear to me, did my life come full circle, and I began to notice the light at the end of the tunnel was not the train. My guess is I had paid my dues, and destiny was opening its doors to me. Among other things, it was about this time that the Veteran’s Administration health care system approved providing gender affirming hormones for veterans such as me. I jumped at the idea of taking advantage of less expensive HRT medicines and free mental health care. Even though I had already set up my hormonal medications through a civilian doctor.

By this time, it was becoming increasingly evident to me which direction my life would have to take before it was too late. I was in the middle to late fifties of my life and if I ever was going to ever have the courage to jump off the gender cliff, I would have to do it. One thing I did not want to do was continue to live the part-time gender existence I was already living. Plus, I was rapidly nearing the point in my life when I could take early retirement. Which would preclude me from having to go through any ugly transition on the job scenarios. I worked in a very male dominated profession, so switching genders on the go could have been quite challenging.

Finally, one night when I was out to be alone, I decided I was enjoying myself so much, I needed to end my gender turmoil forever. I decided to forsake all my male privileges I had fought to earn for decades and seek out my dream life as a transgender woman. It was not a decision I took lightly as I sent all my male clothes except my Army uniform to the thrift stores which were so beneficial to me when I was first acquiring my transfeminine wardrobe and fashion.

By this time, I was sixty and I figured I would never have a better chance to transition again. I took advantage of all the feminine “practice” I had done over the years. I was able to hit the gender ground running and never looked back.

 

Cutting a Life in Half

  

JJ Hart at Witches' Ball

Cutting life in half is difficult.

Perhaps I am biased, but I feel transgender women and transgender men feel the cut deeper than the rest of the population. Some of you may even remember the days when a transsexual person was expected to go through gender realignment surgery, then move to a completely different town and start all over with their life.

At my age, I remember all of that, and it was one of the reasons I balked at going through a major gender transition in my life. However, I was fortunate. I had two transsexual role models who were determined to do the gender change in their own way. One was a Columbus, Ohio fireperson who restored her own house in German Village, an upscale historical area of Columbus. She was preparing to retire from the fire department and there was no way she would move after surgery. It has been many years since I have heard from her and the last, I had heard she and a lesbian had moved in together.

The other transsexual I briefly knew was a beautiful woman who was going to complete her gender surgeries also. As I remember, she was an accomplished electrical engineer who would have no problem finding a job wherever she decided to go. We were never close, so I lost contact with her too.

Back in those days, I was very naïve and considered a very feminine appearance was all it took to cut your life in half and start all over. I had not yet even begun to pay my dues to be able to slip behind the gender curtain. One of my main considerations back then was how far did I want to go to cut my life in half and start all over. I certainly did not have the money saved up for gender surgeries and loved my wife and new family. A lot to consider giving up. The only thing I did know was, I thought about it continually.

Then I began to explore seriously what it would take to cut my life where it was the beginning again and I could start all over as a transgender woman. Another problem I had was, the more successful baggage I accumulated as a man, the harder it would be to stop the train and go back. I was stubborn and tried to take the middle road. I worked on my makeup presentation and fashion and shopped till I dropped for just the right piece to add to my closet. At no point did I ever consider myself attractive, but I did feel I had done enough in my appearance to live that way for the rest of my life if I needed to.

As I reached the point of no return, it was time to cut my life and start all over again, but I did not. Sure, I had given away what was left of my male clothes to charity, but I did not give away my lifelong love of sports and women too. I found the big sports bars I used to frequent as a man were also welcoming to me as a transgender woman. And most amazingly, I learned my sexuality did not have to change either. I had more cisgender women and lesbians approach me as a new transfeminine woman as I ever did as a man. Dispelling another myth from the old days that when your gender changed by surgery, your sexuality had to change too.

What I did get rid of was any pictures or awards from my past. When other women talked about their families, I could talk about mine also, but just to a point. I found out the hard way, there would be no hint given at any time that I was a veteran and drafted during the Vietnam era. The entire process turned out to be a sure-fire way to out myself and draw reference to my male life if I was not careful.

Cutting and resurrecting a long life is never easy. Especially when people are curious about you. I went through tons of trial-and-error conversations before I finally began to get it right. Now I save details of my life for people like the prying woman a couple of weeks ago at the graduation party I went to. She went to the extent of calling me dad because of my daughter so I went to the extent of telling her I was drafted in the military during Vietnam. Plus, to confuse her even more, I told her my first wife, and third wife were sitting at the table also. After that, she gave up and left. It’s rare I have ever had a chance to pick and win such a battle.

In no way though, do I ever want to make any of this sound fun, because it is not. What stays and what goes away is always such a difficult set of decisions to make. I hope you can make yours easily.

 

 

 

Did I think Life Would Turn Out this Way

 

JJ Hart.

Did I think life would turn out to be this way, I would have said NO!

In the earliest days of just exploring my mom’s clothes and admiring myself in the mirror, I never thought life would have become as complex as it did. For years, I thought my cross-dressing urges were an innocent hobby which hurts no one. I was entertained and it was all that mattered in my selfish world.

Little did I know, all I was going through was just the beginning of my life I would have to adjust to if I was going to survive. I was embarking on what turned out to be a very unique life as I had the opportunity to live life in two of the main binary genders.

To put it all together on a timeline, I was in my thirties when I first read the term transgender for the first time, and I thought I had finally found a term which described me. Or, at least put words to my gender dream of possibly living a transfeminine life. Up to that point, I had only experienced the other gender variant people I met at various mixers I went to. When I attended the mixers, I met everyone from cross dressers in cowboy hats barely covering their masculinity all the way to impossibly feminine transgender women who were on their way to surgery. I certainly did not think the mixer I went to would turn out that way. I was expecting to attend, meet people like me and come away with new answers about myself. Of course, it did not turn out that way, and I came away with more questions than answers afterwards.

Primarily, I found myself on a sort of a gender balance beam. I was very clumsy and became well versed in playing both sides of the gender spectrum. At times I was good at my games and at times I was very bad, and I suffered. Through the bad times I needed to keep my eye on my gender dreams, be selfish and do the best I could. Perhaps the worst part was, I still did not know how any of it would turn out.

It was only when I managed to escape my dark, lonely gender closet and explore to learn if my future transgender dreams were possible at all. I was in a long-term marriage with a woman I loved, in a successful job and outwardly living a good male life. Why would I want to sacrifice any of the white male privileges I had earned. I did not think on occasion that I ever could.

What changed everything for me was the further I went on my journey, the more natural I felt. I began to think more about my life was meant to be this way. When I was selfish in my gender choices and I did my best to be a chameleon with my life. These days, I would be known as being gender fluid. Another term not known in those days, instead I thought of myself as an androgynous person. Especially when I started gender affirming hormones or HRT. What happened was, I really started to play with fire then. I had given myself a loose timetable until I made the final transition from male to female but could not keep it when the changes to my body became much more noticeable than I had ever imagined.

I never had thought in a million years, my life would turn out this way and I needed to arrive at a point where I needed to be selfish again and give up on my male self. My longer hair, softer skin and budding breasts were giving me away. It was time for a change. In fact, way past time for me to face the inevitable, I should have been living a transfeminine life all along.

All the torment and balancing acts I put myself through were no more than tormenting myself needlessly. Perhaps the final clue was how quickly my body took to the new feminine hormones. There was no negative to the process at all and the calm I suddenly felt led me to feel I was in the right place.

So, no, I never thought I would be in the spot I am in today. I am living as a transgender woman with a wife who supports me totally. The only slice of life I lost was my brother’s acceptance which was overcome by my daughter’s. It has been over a decade since I have spoken to him and truthfully, I haven’t missed our interaction. I am sure I had a few lucky breaks along the way, but for the most part, I think destiny was leading the way. Along with my stubbornness to continue my journey. It does not matter as it all worked out.

 

 

Pride Two

 

Cincinnati Ohio Pride

As you may remember, this is my second post celebrating this years’ LGBTQ Pride month.

To put the day into perspective here in the Cincinnati, Ohio metro area, over two hundred thousand people are expected for Pride today. In addition, in the past month, approximately five smaller Prides have already happened. All that gives you an idea of the extent of Pride which is going on around here alone. Which is impressive when you consider all the effort being put forward by a certain major political party (not called the Democrats) to erase us.

Perhaps the biggest challenge to most Prides is the financial one which is facing the organizers of all sizes of LGBTQ events, due to the DEI restrictions which sent many big potential sponsors scurrying back under their rocks in fear. The good news is that in my hometown of a very conservative Springfield, Ohio, all the way to the big Pride here in Cincinnati, have gone through the extensive process of finding alternative funding and succeeded. Successfully debunking the thought there was no support for the LGBTQ community.

The second big hurdle the organizers of Prides face is finding volunteers from an increasingly shrinking pool of people willing to lend a hand. Plus, threats to the community have played a hand in the shrinking pool of volunteers. Again, I am happy to report that Cincinnati Pride signed up seven hundred volunteers to help. Braving ninety-degree heat and humidity did not help finding volunteers either.

Sadly, I am far beyond my ability to volunteer in any way for any of the area Pride events. My lack of mobility inhibits my ability to make it to the event at all. So, I must participate from afar.

It is also important to me that the “T” or transgender letter which we constantly battle to recognition for, is being seen at Pride. I know, in the beginning of the time I started going to the celebrations, it seemed the Drag queens dominated the scene and there was little to no participation from transgender women and trans men. Over the proceeding years after that I was pleased to see more and more trans people enjoying the day.

In actuality, our celebration on a personal level for Pride should be a year around process. Even if you are still deeply trapped in your closet, in the future, you never know what the future will bring. I am a willing example of having my gender future turn on a dime and I could live my transfeminine dreams.

One way, or another, take the time to pause and think of all the transgender pioneers who have paved a very difficult path for us all. This is your day!

The Big Risk

 

Image from Joshua Rawson Harris
on UnSplash.

When you jump from one of the main binary genders to the other. In my case of course it meant leaving all my hard-earned male privileges behind and move into a largely unknown world.

The risk was tremendous the farther I went along. Mainly because I was accumulating an increasingly amount of male baggage. Such as family, house and good job. At the same time, I was perfecting my transfeminine appearance, which encouraged me to move forward in the world. To be sure, I was involved in being tested with a double-edged sword. Or which way should I go? I spent many wasted hours trying to obsess over my future, which was still very vague. At that point I did not even know if I could even exist in a fully transfeminine world. On nights I was accepted by the public, gender euphoria told me I could. Then, on the nights I was rejected by the public, I thought there was no way I could ever live my dream, and it would remain just that…a dream. A dream which never would go away. 

Through it all, the idea of risking all my existence remained with me and naturally scared me to my bones. I was hiding away my biggest secret and even though I did internalize it well, it was a drain on my mental health. Which is a side story I tell often because it is something I think more transgender women and trans men can learn from. At least I hope so.

Something else, I don’t think the average person understands about us, is this is not a casual joke to us, and we just cannot stop putting on a dress on a whim. We are ready to risk it all to live an authentic life as our true selves. Free from our closets. The problem was at the end of a day out, most of us must go back to our old unwanted male selves (or female selves for trans men). For me, it was always a heart-breaking experience as I tried desperately to maintain my male façade for my wife and work.  The only alternative I had was to attempt to live part of my life as a trans woman and the other half as a macho man. It tore me up.

The entire process just became worse and worse when I began to carve out an all-new life in a feminine world. The more success I felt, the less I wanted to go back to my old life and began to research the prospect of living my lifetime dream. In fact, all I can remember all I really wanted to be when I was young was, I wanted to be a woman. Which of course, I needed to keep to myself. I was miserable as I felt as if I was the only boy in the world who felt that way. It took me years to learn I was not the only male in the world who wanted to be female and was prepared to take the risk to do it.

I was able to find a couple of real live acquaintances who took the risk, almost, so I could judge what it meant for me if I decided to follow in their footsteps. I say almost because one the transsexual women I knew was a very attractive retired firefighter in Columbus, Ohio and had a very good pension to live on. The other trans woman I knew was even more attractive in her own right and a very accomplished electrical engineer and would always find a job. I had a good job but not one which would carry over to a gender transition. So, I had much more to consider, not to mention neither of the women I mentioned were in a serious spousal relationship and I was. Right in the middle of a twenty-five-year marriage. I would later come to know how similar yet drastically different our transgender community is.

The pressure I was feeling to take the final risk continued to build. Aided by the success I was having in dealing with the public, I was encouraged to take the final risk in my life. At this point, destiny stepped in to show me the way. My two major stopping points were my second wife and what I would do for an income after I transitioned.

My wife tragically died, leaving me with one to speak of to object to me leaving my old life behind and beginning a new one. Then, by that time, I was in reach of being able to retire on early Social Security income plus what I could sell online. In many ways, the lightning did come right before the rain for me and then the sun came out. When it did, I could see my dream life had arrived and I could live how I wanted to.

 

 

 

Women's Spaces

 

Image from Tim Mossholder
on UnSplash.

As far as being included in the so-called women’s spaces in the world, the women’s restroom is the crown jewel of inclusiveness.

When I was in my earliest stages of transitioning into my transgender womanhood, being “allowed” to use the women’s room, seemed to be an impossible dream. What went on behind the closed doors of the women’s room was so special anyway? As destiny would have it, I was to find out. My journey began when I started to become a regular in the sports bars I write so much about. The nearest ones to my home were nearly half an hour away, so I needed to time my restroom visits carefully, once I summoned the courage to use them. You see, I had to because of the amount of beer I was drinking. One led to another. When I drank, alcohol gave me the courage to be more confident about myself but on the other hand I needed to go more often.

As I gathered my courage to use the women’s room, I tried my best to time my visits so it would be empty.  Sometimes I was successful and other times I was not, so I did my best to see and learn from what other cisgender women were doing in their “sacred” space. Most of the women I encountered were just there to do their business, wash their hands and touch up their makeup. Quickly they were gone.

For the most part, the first lesson I learned was to look other women in the eye and give them a greeting with a smile. Which would have been a huge no no in the men’s room. From then on, it was just a matter of having the proper restroom necessities handy to ensure I was able to follow proper etiquette. I made sure my cell phone was always handy in my purse so I could use it in case I needed to wait in line for a stall. I even went so far as to carry an extra small amount of tissue paper, in case I needed to loan it out to a desperate fellow user in the next stall.

From my days in the bar/restaurant business I knew how women were not always the pristine humans in a restroom they claim to be, so I knew to look before I sat down to check for any wet spots or worse. I was also careful to always check for a hook to hang my purse on, so I did not have to put it on the floor. A sure sign of a gender intruder.

Through it all, I did not see or participate in any of the brief gossip sessions I encountered. Except for one memorial evening when I needed to use the restroom in one of the bars Liz and I went to. When I went in, the restroom was tiny and packed with women talking about a certain man. As my luck would have it, one evil looking woman was blocking my way to a toilet stall I needed to use in the worst way. Without physically moving her, I needed to stare her down and say excuse me as she let me by. By this time, I did not care what she thought of me, and my revenge was coming. When I finished my business in the stall, I came out to wash my hands and check my makeup. In the meantime, she had moved to a spot near the electric hand dryer which I needed to use. As luck would have it, she was slouching against the wall near the dryer, and I was able to direct the air flow towards her hair. Naturally, she did not enjoy her new hairstyle, and I got my revenge.

I was not as successful as the time I mentioned when I was first visiting women’s rooms. Even though I tried to be a regular in the venues I visited and had no problems with using the room, I did have the police called on me twice a long time ago. To this day, I still have negative feelings about those police calls. Specifically, the one where I was called a pervert. I was deeply hurt but ended up being able to report the woman who ended up owning her own hair salon to the Dayton, Ohio LGBTQ alliance for being an anti-transgender business.

These days, here in my native Ohio, the Republican bills banning all restroom usage by transgender women and trans men are currently in court battles to determine their legality. Whatever happens, it has been decades since I have used a men’s room, and I will be damned if I will ever go back. Besides, using the men’s room would subject me to bodily harm which I certainly don’t need.

The bottom line (no pun intended) to all of this is, be careful when you use the women’s room and know the written and unwritten rules of the room. Above all, your basic confidence in yourself will be an integral part of your experience.

My disclaimer and limits on all of this comes with when a pre-opt trans woman attempts to use a women's only locker room. I can understand all the problems which comes with doing this and I agree. It should be a women's only space.  

 

 

Every Eye was on Me

JJ Hart

 When I was first entering the world as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman, I felt as if every eye was on me.

For the most part, most eyes were on me. Especially from other women. I vividly remember the times I was looked from head to toe by another woman. Slowly but surely, she was undressing every aspect of my fashion and making no secret of it. I thought at the time, I was just being introduced to the aspect of womanhood and to just get used to it.

At the same time, I was working on my overall femininized presentation, I was trying my best to mimic the way women move so I would not appear as a linebacker in drag. My adventures took me as far as trying to walk like a girl in large box stores late at night. I wonder now how many security cameras I made it on trying to perfect my walk. Through it all, I needed to be careful I was not walking the wrong way at the wrong time. Or for example, remember to not try to walk like a woman when I was working as a man. The entire process became more difficult the more I began to split down my time increasingly in favor of being a woman. I started with just cross dressing when I could a few days a week and ended with splitting my time four days a week in a feminine world versus three as a man. The whole process became even more complicated because I was still working my full-time job as a man. Especially when it came time to getting a new pair of glasses and I wanted to change over to feminine frames. 

The most difficult aspect of what I was attempting to do was the mental aspect of trying to juggle both main binary genders. I needed every moment to work on my transition and get used to all the nuances of it. A big portion of the process involved being looked at. At the least, no matter how well I applied my makeup, styled my hair and picked the right clothes for the occasion, I was still a big woman and would naturally attract attention. I attempted to conquer the size issue by losing weight. I responded by losing a significant amount of weight which helped in two ways. I could fit into better fitting women's clothes and at the same time look better when I went through another woman's inspection.

Of course, I was inspected by men too, but the inspection was much simpler, and I knew what it would involve. Women on the other hand, had more to look for since they had experience in the fine points of putting outfits together. At some point in their life, they had to put together everything from shoes to wardrobe to hair to put an outfit together. Since I needed to do it too, I knew what they were looking for and tried to plan for it. My accessories needed to match the rest of my hand-picked outfit to succeed. Even still, the times I went through helped me to prepare my future life as a transgender woman. 

If every eye was going to be on me, I was just going to have to adjust and do the best I could. If it was possible, I would try to thank all those women who looked me up and down. They taught me what I needed to do to succeed in my future. 

tRumpt Promptly Comes after Us

 

Image from Darren Halstead 
on UnSplash

Of course, one of the first groups of people newly elected president tRumpt came after was transgender women and trans men. He dictated the country under his direction would only recognize two genders, male and female. 

This of course would affect everything from gender markers to passports. For all you transgender people who voiced your support for tRumpt, I wonder what you are thinking now. Perhaps the worst part of all of this is, we are just into day one of his term in office. Dark, troubling times are ahead for the LGBTQ community, especially the transgender portion. Of course, this should come as no major surprise to any rational thinking person.

I wonder what will happen when the new reality sets in with the gay and lesbian sectors of the country who, for the most part, became quite comfortable with their current status in our society. Then again, what will happen with all the active military transgender members who will be affected by all of this. I wonder too, what is going to happen with my Veteran's Administration services. I receive my gender affirming hormones through VA health care. So, I wonder what will happen.

Still, I resent the fact, a number of transgender women I know who voiced their support for the orange menace.

I hope you are satisfied with the price of eggs along with the rest of you. 

Finally, none of this mentioned the overall treatment of women as a whole by the political party ruled by tRumpt. It is also beyond me how any woman, cis or trans could support a party which wants to take their (our) rights away. 

It's too late now, we have billionaires like Musk giving the Nazi salute on stage this week. We are doomed. I am afraid.

All Hands on Deck

 

Image from UnSplash

As I progressed farther along my long and difficult gender journey, there were many times where I wished I had company to aid my path.

Even though I often whine and cry concerning the lack of assistance novice cross dressers or transgender women have early on in their progression, the fact remains we need to work our way through it and do the best we can with our fashion and makeup. Until I began to see positive results, I am sure I looked like a clown in drag. Still, I was alone with my thoughts. I am old enough to remember with "Virginia Prince" and her Transvestia publication first came to my attention. It provided me with the first real look at others who shared the same interest in being femininized and looking like a girl. I was mesmerized with more than a few of the cross dressers I saw in the publication. I so badly wanted to be like them.

For years as I worked alone to look more realistic as a cross dresser, I still yearned for feminine help. I thought any cis woman could help me because of their years of practice and interaction with their peers. When I was engaged in college, the opportunity to be dressed from head to toe as a woman by another woman finally came my way. Somehow, I begged my fiancé to do it even though I don't remember now how I did it or was so persuasive. I went all the way by even renting a motel room for all the pre-prep work such as shaving my body I would have to do. 

Once I shaved and dressed, I was excited to undergo the long-awaited makeup process. Since she wore quite a lot of makeup, I was confident she could do a great job. It was finally time for all hands-on deck in my young cross-dressing life. Back in those days, mini skirts and dresses were in vogue so I brought one I found and purchased along with panty hose, heels, and a long blond wig and started the transformation process. To say I was excited would be an understatement. Time flew by as she finished my makeup, and I headed for the mirror. Instead of the beautiful blond I thought I was going to see, I was actually disappointed. I could not see much difference in her efforts from my own. Even still, I acted as if I was really impressed with her expertise when in fact, I was impressed with how much I had learned on my own over the years. 

It took me a long time working with makeup to learn each of us has a blank face to work with and we need to learn the best way to work with it. My fiancé was doing the best she could with the knowledge she learned from her own face, not mine. She was far from being a professional such as the help I finally received from a true makeup pro at a transvestite, transgender mixer I attended years later after I was discharged from the Army. He taught me lessons about my face I had never even considered such as which features to play down and which ones to build up. To this day, I owe him a huge vote of confidence and thanks.

It turned out the opposite happened with my fiancé. Due to knowing my deepest, darkest secret about being a cross dresser, she said I should use it to dodge the draft and stay out of the Vietnam war. There was no way I was going to do that, so we split up shortly before I was to leave for basic training. Actually, it was the best thing which has ever happened to me in my life. The pain it caused immediately would have been nothing like the suffering we would have gone through if we had stayed together.  

Looking back, at my life's work as a transgender woman, for the most part, it has been a solitary experience. Not having a female peer group to interact with and learn from was a problem to be sure but one I learned to work around. The end result was, I needed to be better than the next woman to make it.