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| JJ Hart |
Sadly, transgender women and transgender men spend much of their lives being lonely with no one left to believe in them.
When it happens, the dark lonely closet you have been
dealing with becomes even more restrictive and uncertain. With me, the only
thing that kept me focused on my gender path was a little voice which kept
telling me that against all odds, I was doing the right thing.
Maybe, like some of you, I had the same misgivings of what I
was doing as I cross-dressed as a girl. Was I going through a phase, a fetish
or was something wrong with me mentally all entered my mind one time or
another. I did know, I had very few male friends and for some reason felt
uncertain around the ones I did meet. Which only added to my loneliness and
made me withdraw further within myself. It was very difficult for me to believe
anything about myself during this portion of my life. But I thought I had no
choice but to struggle on.
It was not until much later that I found that I did not have
to struggle as much as I was doing as ironically, both sides of my dual
gendered personality were coming out of their shells slowly at the same time.
After military service in the Army, I learned to not be afraid of other competition
from men, while at the same time I was learning how to exist in a ciswoman’s
world I had always dreamed of. Life as I knew it was becoming unbelievably complex
as I tried to balance two genders mentally and physically. Every day, I needed to concentrate on who I was
going to be when I faced the public. Ironically, I needed more room in my closet
to make room for marriages, kids and employment.
Even when all of this was going on, I still felt lonely and
wondered what I was doing wrong with my life. The problem was I was living backwards,
which I would not understand until much later in my life sadly. The basics did not
come to me that I was not a man trying to be a woman but was a woman trying not
to be a man. It all comes under the old saying “If I had known then, what I know
now, what a better life I would have had.” But the fact remained I was still
living a very shallow life as a novice transgender woman and had so much to
learn before I could claim my own version of womanhood.
For the longest time, I just took for granted I would just be lonely as a part of life I would have to get used to. Especially after my second wife of
twenty-five years unexpectedly passed away from a massive heart attack. Even
though she did not accept me as a trans woman, somehow, we still did stay together
until the end. At least, I loved her deeply and was never lonely with her, or
so I thought.
I found you do not miss what you had until it is gone, and
death is the ultimate version of being gone and starting all over for me at the
age of fifty-five was not going to be easy. Even though the relationships I had
built up as a man were very few, what I had were all starting to die also. Any
relationships with ciswomen as a man that I had were few and far between
because I was not sure which direction I would go with my gender. I did not
want to start another relationship with a woman just to end it by telling her she
was actually living with another woman. As the gays would say, I was keeping my
true self on the “downlow” the best that I could.
What happened next was that I was increasingly having a
difficult time staying on the “downlow” because of all the explorations I was
doing in the straight world I was trying to re-enter. This time as a
transfeminine person. I was slowly building social relationships in the world
with ciswomen who suddenly showed an interest in me. The problem I had was I
was still not on HRT yet and was still in my mind too fake to pursue a
relationship with a woman when after I stripped down to my basics, I was still
a man without my fake hair, breasts and hips. Even with all the social stimulus
I was receiving in my new world, I was still frustrated and feeling alone in my
life.
I finally realized that I was the only one holding myself
back from learning if I could be approved for gender affirming hormones or
HRT. I made the medical appointment from
a doctor’s ad I had seen in a local LGBTQ publication and before I knew it, I
was deemed healthy enough to be approved. It was a major step in my life and one
I did not take lightly. The first night I took the minimum dosage of estradiol
and spiro pills I was prescribed, I saved the special occasion for when my future
wife Liz could join me in a venue in Dayton, Ohio.
Very soon, my HRT dosage was increased, and I ended up
calling them my “magic pills” before I was switched to patches which would be easier
on my system. Thanks to Liz and a few other ciswomen friends, I was able to think
about forming deeper relationships with women again. My body had morphed into a
curious gender blend of breasts, hips, soft skin with a non-performing male
piece of equipment which did not seem to matter to the ciswomen around me who were
not as insecure with their sexuality as most of the cismen that I knew.
Most importantly, I gained the confidence to believe in myself,
which led me to not suffer the extreme loneliness I had felt during many parts of
my life. It was like I was on a wheel, and my life had had the time and good
fortune to come around again.
Hey all!!!! Thanks for reading. Your
input makes it all worthwhile to me.
