Fall Leaves

Image from Alisa Anton
on UnSplash. 

I write substantially how fall is my favorite season of the year. I love the cooler temperatures, wardrobe changes and how the trees change into their brilliant colors. All before the colors go away and drab winter sets in.

Long ago, I felt all the seasonal changes deep down to my inner soul. Of course as a novice transgender woman the wardrobe fashion changes were challenging and fun. I learned I needed to look ahead for the best clothing bargains if I was to be successful in locating all the fashion firsts in sizes that fit me. After a few seasonal changes, I began to feel so natural, I automatically felt the changes coming on. Fall was especially fun when it was time to go through all of my leggings, boots and sweaters to see what I would have to add or subtract to make it through another season.

Even though fashion changes were exciting and fun, other aspects of the season just brought about melancholy depression. I vividly remember the nights when I went out and just drove around in my car watching all the leaves blow around in the headlights. Here I was still stuck in a gender I did not want to have anything to do with and not seeing a way out. Very soon, the fun of fall would turn into the depression of winter for me. My final fall before leaving for Army basic training was especially bad because I knew for a fact I would not be able to do anything about my transgender desires for a very long three years of my life. It seemed so unfair my new life into transgender womanhood would have to be put on hold through no fault of my own. I was bitter. 

Little did I know, after waiting over two years out of three in the Army, karma would come back to help me. During my last year I learned of a Halloween party which was being planned by a hospital group which my friends and I were invited to. Immediately my mind jumped to the possibility of me dressing up as a woman and going. Of course the problem arose how was I going to do it because I did not want to go halfway. I wanted to be the sexiest dressed woman at the party. Fortunately, I had access to an apartment where I could finally shave my legs and put on makeup with a wig I managed to buy at a downtown Stuttgart, Germany shop where I was stationed. Through it all, I knew I was risking harassment or worse by my superiors in the Army if the word got out about my so called "costume" which may have been a little too good. But nothing ever happened.

In fact, because of the Halloween party, my life changed nearly full circle that fall. A couple of days after the party, when my closest friends gathered once again over potent, tasty German beer I blurted out the costume I wore was more than a casual fun idea I came up with on the spur of the moment. I was a transvestite as we were known back in those days and I enjoyed wearing women's clothes, makeup and wigs. I knew at the time, again I would be risking what was left of the time I had left in the Army if what I said found it's way into the wrong hands. It did not matter at the time as the first time I left my gender closet felt so good. So good, I tried to come out to my Mom who promptly slammed me back into my closet. 

All of this happened during the fall which still remains my favorite season of the year. As a  transgender woman, I appreciate the re-birth of spring but summer is too hot and winter is too long and drab. It's why fall leaves are so important to me.  

Running but not Hiding

 

Inage from JJ Hart
at the Cincinnati Witches Ball.

Over the years I considered myself the complete procrastinator. If I could put off anything, I did. 

My running and hiding continued unabated when I began to express myself as a girl. In fact, it got worse. Once I had the opportunity to cross dress and jump in front of the mirror, I could not wait to get back. I wanted to so bad, I tried my best to put my male life on hold until I could. I was running as hard as I could but was making no real headway. The real problem of course was because I was attempting to run my gender life backwards. I was a girl all along who was forced into being a boy and I needed to be increasingly careful to hide it.

The older I became, the more running I needed to do to hide my true gender. Even though I needed to take a break from my running when I was in the military, when I returned to society, I picked up where I left off. This time, I tried changing jobs and geographical locations to hide my true nature which was increasingly leading me to accepting me into transgender womanhood. I picked up and moved my small family from more conservative Ohio to liberal leaning New York City as an example. Deep down I felt I could express my gender desires there more effectively. Within two years, I more or less discovered I was wrong and decided to move back to my native Ohio. 

My moves continued around Ohio as I sought out the ideal job when in fact I was running from myself. I finally discovered no matter where I was, my gender issues would be there also. I was good at running but bad at hiding as I slowly added others into my secret world. For example, both my first and second wives knew I was a cross dresser and/or transvestite before we were married. The problem was I was so much more than a person who wanted to wear the clothes of the opposite gender, I wanted to be the opposite gender. Which was the deal breaker for my second wife.

It took me years to grow into my authentic feminine self as I slowly experimented in the public's eye.. All of a sudden the only people I was hiding from were the most important ones in my life. Which certainly did not make life any easier. I am referring to my family, friends and bosses. By far the three most important people I needed to come out to if I was going to ever live my dream as a transgender woman. At the same time, I was successfully building up a new life as a trans person so once again I was somewhere in the gray area of running but for once not hiding. The entire process, caused me tremendous mental health problems. Running head on into my old unwanted male life when I was trying my best to learn a new femininized existence was no fun.

Essentially what I did was keep running until my second wife as well as many of my close male friends had passed away. Leaving me fewer and fewer people to let into my gender reality. I would not recommend doing a transition the way I did but we are all different and it worked for me.

I ran until I could not anymore and finally was mentally exhausted enough to put my male life behind me and live my truth. All hiding was behind me.   

When Every Night is Girls Night

Grae Phillips is still active
on Facebook if you want to 
see more. Or just keep up. 

I know I make a big deal out of my second huge transition, when I mentally moved from being a serious part-time cross dresser into being a novice transgender woman.

Sometimes I feel as if I am putting myself on some sort of a gender pedestal when I write about not considering myself a cross dresser anymore. If it comes off that way, I don't mean it to. On occasion, the written word gets in my way. Getting back to the cross dresser versus transgender statement I made, I think in my case, it was a matter of me judging my own life. Originally, as I was working my way through my early years of admiring my girl self in the mirror, I knew it could never be enough. There had to be more. I was so tired of cross dressing for one day and then two or three days later wanting to do it again. 

As I always mention, all of this occurred back in the pre-internet information era when any news and contact with like minded gender individuals, be they transvestites or transsexuals, was very difficult and rare to come by. This was even before the barrage of talk shows led by the late Phil Donohue who interviewed female impersonators such as "Grae Phillips", all the way to transvestites seeking approval from a doubting world. It was quite a bit for me to sort out. But I did. I knew I could never be as beautiful and talented as Grae but I could reach the standards of most of the transvestites I saw on my television. There was hope for my future after all.

As I progressed into meeting more and more diverse cross dressers or the women known as the new transgender group I began to think what it would mean if I went all the way and every night became girls night. In other words, a time when I would never have to go back to my old male self and live. Deep down I knew there would have to be some sort of line drawn in the sand if I did. As much as I loved all the fun of the newness of applying makeup and picking out clothes, I wondered what would happen when the newness wore off and I needed to settle into the daily routine of the transgender womanhood.

It turned out, I had nothing to worry about. I settled into my new feminine routine as if I had always should have been living this way. I found I didn't have to do much special on many days such as most cis-women do and then again still have the fun of dressing up for special occasions. It was true, once I jumped the gender border from cross dresser to transgender, I could experience what life could be like if every night was girls night.  

The Rock and the Hard Place

 

Image from
the JJ Hart
Archives

Recently, I received a comment from a reader who said in essence, I was too hard on my second wife when I mentioned her.

After thinking the comment over, I can see why it was made. First, some quick history. My second wife and I were married for nearly twenty five years until her sudden and untimely death at the age of fifty. She knew I was a transvestite or cross dresser when we were married and accepted it up to a point. The demarcation line was always HRT or me pursuing  a life as a transgender woman. For years it was fine with me as she approved me going to a motel to cross dress and go out into the world. We had an uneasy gender truce and I ended up abusing it.

The problem was, I always blamed myself for our gender problems because naturally, they all originated with me. Primarily when I began to break the promise I made to never leave the house dressed as my feminine self. Of course, I eventually was caught and all hell broke lose. She was a strong woman and knew how to emotionally battle me. She was the rock keeping me from my increasingly obtainable goal of trans-womanhood and I was in the hard place of knowing deep down it was where my life was headed.

Along the way, my second wife imparted good information about being a woman but withheld other very important facts. She would just tell me I made a terrible woman and then adding in she was not implying anything about my appearance. Leaving me to wonder for years what she meant. Mainly I found my old male ego was still in the way of my gender progress to the future. It wasn't until she had passed on and I took the opportunity to really explore the world as a transgender woman, did I understand what she meant. I finally had to walk the walk and talk the talk to move my hard place along. Femininization was difficult yet exciting for me on many occasions.

My second wife also tried to tell me to follow my dreams and give up our relationship but I still tried to have it both ways which just made things worse. She knew me better than I knew myself. 

So, as you can tell, I owe her quite a bit and wonder if we could have at least arrive to a point where we could have been woman friends. I obviously don't say it enough if I am receiving comments to the contrary. I also don't praise the cis-women who stay in marriages with their transgender spouses. I know if the shoe was on the other foot, I would have an incredibly difficult time accepting a trans spouse. As my wife said, living with another woman  was something she never signed up for. 

The rock and the hard place cost me dearly over the years. The pressure of attempting to maintain a relationship and a male life with the increasing knowledge it was all a lie built up an enormous amount of pressure and all but ruined my fragile mental health. I resorted to trying to drink away my problems to no avail and just became more depressed. I was not freed until I basically had nothing else to lose after her death. Once I was freed, I could look back on our relationship for what it was and all the good times we had and how I basically hurt it all.

What Would Mom Say

Image from Jenna Norman
on UnSplash

This week my question to answer on the year long bio I am writing for my daughter and family as well as my wife Liz involved what parent I learned the most from.  

As I compared my Mom and Dad, easily I learned the most from Mom. Outside of the usual circumstances, I found I could find many more opportunities to spotlight Mom's influence on me. For example, I remember at a very early age watching Mom put on her makeup. Being a product of the "greatest generation" she was not shy about dressing up. However, I don't think watching makeup being applied led me to being a transvestite or even a transgender woman really mattered. Somehow the gender issues I faced went much deeper. Perhaps as deep as the medication Mom took during her pregnancy (DES) which was offered to women at the time to prevent problem births.

It turned out, I was successfully delivered just before my parents had decided to give up after three still births and adopt a child. I think because of all of that, my Mom put an extra emphasis on raising me and my brother who came along two years later. So much so, I wonder now what would have happened if Mom would have realized she had a daughter rather than a son. In all fairness to her, the fifties during my youth had very little information on gender issues. When it was available, gender issues were known as mental illness. 

Throughout the years, I always mistakenly thought girls had all the benefits in life I always wanted. Girls were able to wear the pretty clothes I wanted, be gifted the dolls I wanted and even never had to worry about being drafted and serving in the military. Male privileges were not known to me in those days because I had not yet earned any. As a side note, once I did earn the benefits of being male, I learned some of them were automatic and I did not want them anyhow.

I have forever wondered what my life would have been with Mom had I been born a biological female. Being as similar personality wise as we were, we fought quite a bit as mother/pseudo son and I have to think it would have been worse as a daughter. Mom was very headstrong and I am sure we would have had battles over fashion styles in the 1960's as well as when I could begin using makeup. In fact, when I was sneaking around using her makeup, I was probably younger than I would have been had I been her actual daughter.  I am sure too, Mom would have tried to influence me into going to her college and joining her sorority. She would have done her best to push me down a certain path which was certainly going against my generation's rules at that time in history during the upheaval in the later 1960's.

By this time, you may be asking where was Dad during all of this. It was not like he was not an influence in my life but he was not as hands on as Mom was. He was long on providing and short on emotions which I struggled with for most of my life. One thing I remember most about him was how desperate I was to never disappoint him and since I rarely if ever heard a positive from him, I never knew what he really thought of my life. He was blessed with excellent health and outlived my Mom by ten years and I never came out to him before his death from Dementia.

I did try to come out to Mom but it was a dismal failure for both of us. Predictably, when I told her I wanted to be a woman, she offered up mental health counseling. The conversation took place just after I was finished with my military duty and was never mentioned again until her death fifty years later. I used to hold her thoughts against her and was quite bitter but I gradually mellowed with age and came to realize she was just a product of her generation. 

To honor all her sacrifices, I used her first name as my middle name when I legally changed my gender markers nearly ten years ago. Had I had the opportunity to be accepted as her daughter from the beginning, it would have been interesting how our lives would have intersected. Way past the pushback I would have received for wearing my skirts too short and wearing too much makeup when I was a teenager. I know what Mom would have said. You aren't leaving the house looking like that. Maybe I should have thought of that when I tried and failed to dress that way later in life.  

 

A Spectator in my Own Life

 

Image from Author JJ Hart

There were many times in my life when I felt as if I was a spectator in my own life.

From the first glimpse in a mirror when I cross dressed as a girl, all the way to when I first went out determined to be a woman rather than just look like one, often I was on the outside looking in. Being on the outside was certainly not a great place to be. I literally spent decades of my life worrying about where I actually stood with my gender issues.

Along the way, I grew tired of being the spectator and wanted more inside information on how the feminine system I so admired worked. I discovered the hard way, I was not going to be allowed to learn more until I made the drastic step of increasing my transitioning efforts. Naturally, it was very difficult to do when I was totally immersed in leading a male life which I had become quite successful at doing. Overall, I was becoming the victim when it came to my life as a whole. I kept wondering why me when it came to my desire to live as a transgender woman. I finally had to shake it off and move forward with my gender transition before I lost everything I knew in life. 

It turns out the real culprit was myself.  I was afraid to face my truth and it cost me. I even tried to out run my desire to live as a woman by moving and switching jobs. Once I talked my wife into moving from our native Ohio to the New York City metro area. Then back again a couple years later. Living in different parts of the country was certainly an eye opening experience but did very little to help my gender issues. On the rare occasions it did like the night on Long Island when I went to a transvestite mixer and the hosts thought I was a cis-woman was flattering but did me no good the next morning when I crashed back into my male life. Then my poor wife had to put up with my mood swings.

Still I was a spectator in my own life when I walked down the long hallway in heels to get carded for my true gender to the times I did the family grocery shopping in sweaters, mini skirts and flats, I wondered who was that? It took me years to come to the conclusion the other feminine person was me and she had a right to be here in my life. Slowly but surely, I was building the life experiences needed to cross the gender border but it kept taking me so much time. I kept running into so many road blocks, I thought I was some sort of a gender construction engineer. 

Regardless as time flew by, it was time to put my gender cards on the table to finally determine which gender was going to be the primary provider in my life. What I attempted to do was live as much as I could as a novice transgender woman to see if the lifestyle was for me. Even though initially I did not attempt to do it, the trans life rapidly snuck up on me. Before I knew it and maybe before I was ready, I began to carve out a brand new life as a woman. Quickly I needed to develop feminine communication skills which was difficult for me to do since I was overwhelmingly dealing with other women in my life.

Through it all, slowly I grabbed total control of my life and became a spectator any time I was forced back into my old unwanted male life. In other words, I finally faced my own truth and flipped the ultimate gender script in my life.    

It Was Never Easy

I am amused when anyone thinks my gender journey has ever been an easy one. 

To begin with, I was born into a very male dominated family. Being the oldest son of two, I had heavy male expectations forced on me. Very early on, I learned I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I did not belong in the male world at all. The problem was coming to the knowledge I did not belong as I was sneaking around my family's back to cross dress as a girl. As I remember, I had two hiding places for my small collection of feminine wardrobe and makeup. 

The first place was up in the attic of our family garage and the second was more creative when I discovered a hallowed out tree trunk in a woods next door to my house. What I did was use plastic trash bags to protect my precious belongings from the elements and it provided an extra way I could be alone and dress which relieved (for a day or two) my gender tension. So none of my drastic measures were easy but I survived without anyone detecting my secret, to my knowledge. 

As years went by and my life as a girl began to be more complex, I was pressured to do more and more to protect my life. Sneaking around became more intense as my wardrobe increased, along with my knowledge of the makeup arts. In all fairness to me, I attempted to ease my gender pain, I told my first and second wives ahead of our marriage I was a transvestite or cross dresser which I thought would help my world. My idea worked for awhile, until I essentially out grew the idea I simply wanted to wear women's clothes and makeup. More and more I wanted to be a woman.

Making the jump from cross dresser to transgender woman often was brutal. Partially because I still had my male life to contend with. It probably would have been easier on me if I was not involved in such a male intensive job which automatically would completely throw me totally and publicly back into a world I never wanted. Ironically, my life as a man I worked so hard to build was now in direct competition with a feminized life I was growing into. 

At the same time, my biggest challenge became was deciding if I was transgender at all, Could I continue a life where I lived in both binary genders temporarily or would I need to choose between being a man or a woman. I ran from the decision for years before I grew so tired of running I could go no farther. Making a decision was never an easy one but one I needed to make. Finally, one night I had yet another soul searching discussion with myself and decided to live a life as a transgender woman. The world as I knew it was showing me the way. For the first time in my life I was single and did not have to worry about a spouse to deal with when I changed.

I went even further and decided to go to a doctor to see if I was healthy enough to begin gender affirming hormones. I was and my body took to them very rapidly, making my decision to give away what was left of my male wardrobe to charity and add to my feminine wardrobe. It was not easy to make the decision but it was easy to live with the results. I only knew my new feminine life would never be easy but still would so much better than the life I had lived,

It was never an easy life and my gender dysphoria certainly did not make it any easier. Waking up in the morning after dreaming if I was a boy or a girl never got my day started on a good foot. All of it became some sort of a daily routine I never wanted. With all the highs and lows, somehow I learned to live with it all. 

Options or Paradise

 

Liz on Left, out to eat! 

During our gender transitions, many times we have the choice of options or paradise. 

Often, options come about as not being a choice. Examples include all the days we had to rush around and hide our feminizations from our family and friends. We had no option but to hide our truths. For some if us also, our cross dressing options never became any better when we had to pursue stints in the military. Certainly, the military provided every roadblock in the world for pursuing any route to paradise for gender conflicted individuals. 

As a whole, back then, paradise was very difficult to achieve. In fact I can now refer rare paradise as gender euphoria. For many years and even decades my gender balance never changed. I was still sneaking around risking life as I knew it to momentarily express my true inner gender. Fortunately, I had the time to work on perfecting my femininized presentation. When I finally was able to pursue paradise by going out in public, I was closer than before to achieving success. In fact, once I learned to blend in with  other women in the world, I was more likely to find a fleeting sense of paradise. 

Usually, my paradise did not last long because I needed to quickly return to my male world which I was increasingly feeling uncomfortable in. I was desperately seeking other options to find more gender euphoria other than the annual Halloween parties I was going to as a woman. The parties and the transvestite/ transsexual mixers I started to go to helped me to understand the gap I was facing when I considered the ultimate outcome of where I wanted to go with my life. Instead of just embracing the usual male attributes in life, I needed to include the very real possibility I would have the option to live life out as a transgender woman. The reason I thought this way was I encountered paradise when I was experiencing the world as my true authentic self. I felt so natural and wondered why I had waited so long to do it.

What if I had experienced paradise a decade earlier than I did when I went to a TGIF restaurant and bar determined to mix with other single women. Maybe I was just waiting for the world to catch up to me but more than likely the opposite was happening. I had the options to catch up to the world and I took the chance. By the time I ventured out into the world, I had certainly paid my dues and was  ready to reap the benefits. 

Still I was frustrated when the benefits of my new life were just out of reach. Such as the times when I was so comfortable in my new feminine world I actually forgot where I was and caught myself slipping back into a male mode. I still did not have the full closure from my old male self I so desperately needed. I kept running into unexpected roadblocks and stop signs on my gender path such as a spouse's death which changed my ideas of where I was headed but not for long. Soon with fewer and fewer options to consider as well as a solid new life I was building, paradise was closer than ever before. 

As transgender women or trans men, we often experience periods of options or paradise as we follow our difficult, unique gender paths which separate us from other humans. The whole journey hopefully makes paradise worth it.  

It is NOT a Choice

Image from Alexander Grey 
on UnSplash

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Building from the Inside Out

 

Image from Brooke Cagle
on UnSplash

Years ago I began to understand I was building a new human being from the inside out.

I began to realize it when a person very close to me told me how fortunate I was to be able to start over in the world as a transgender woman. At first I was scared, could I really re-create myself as a woman and at the same time achieve my ultimate feminine dream. Following years of living and training, I found I could indeed live a life as a trans woman.

Before I did, I needed to decide what old male baggage I would have to discard or adjust to the fact I would have to bring it with me. It was difficult since I decided to seriously began my gender transition at the age of sixty, I had years to consider what to do with my baggage. Initially, I was part of the old transsexual school which believed you had to totally uproot your life and move when you transitioned and start all over. The problem I had was, there was some baggage from my old life I wanted to bring with me. For example, I wanted to try to preserve contact with my family and wondered if my wife (who I loved completely) would ever accept me. Not to mention other key points of my life including my passion for watching sports. 

Fairly quickly, as I transitioned, I was able to indirectly control all I was building from the inside out. By this time, I had worked out most of the appearance or fashion challenges I faced, allowing me to work on expressing my internal self. First of all, I learned my only child accepted me totally and my only sibling (a brother) did not. Sadly, we have not communicated in over a decade now. I know I have survived and I have assumed he has also and we moved on. Since I was now a different person now and he is entrenched in his ways, I am sure it has all been for the best although it hurt me how he handled it by rejecting my invitation to the family's annual Thanksgiving feast.

In many ways, having the opportunity to rebuild myself was terrifying yet exciting. Along the way, I found I needed to transition again. Mainly when I finally decided to make the mental move from cross dresser to transgender woman. I say mental move because I wasn't doing anything outwardly any different as I was doing my best to put my best appearance foot forward as a woman. I knew if I was successful, there would be no turning back on my gender path. It was a huge continuing beginning in the process of leaving my male world behind.

By this time, I was well on my way of deciding what baggage I could bring with me and what I could leave behind. I was preparing to give what was left of my male clothes to a charity and I had fairly quickly established myself as a regular in a couple of the big sports bars I had frequented as a guy. By doing so, I could meet my small group of new women friends I had met and watch the games we all enjoyed. My new life was coming together from the inside out and I was loving it. 

Even still, it sometimes took all the concentration I had to remember I was living a new life and I needed to rely on my inner female to carry it out. By doing so, I was able to say what I was thinking and not screw it up by injecting any of my old toxic male self. The only thing I could rely on was my new friends and their reaction to me since they had no clue of the old me. It was very liberating to say the least. 

Overall, I have to say, building the interior person was more intense when compared to the exterior woman the world saw. Especially when I needed to communicate more and more with the public as my new self. When I did build from the inside out, I learned to live my truth and empower my life as a transgender woman.

  

A Want or a Need?

 

Summer image from
the Archives. 

Are gender issues a want or a need. 

Initially I know I thought being a girl was a want, rather than a dream. During one of my classic if I had known then what I know now phases, all I knew was I loved my cross dressed image in the mirror and could not wait to see her again and again. The worst part is I could find no outside information on my gender issues. Mainly because deep down I knew I wanted to do more than look like a girl, I wanted to be a girl. Those were the pre-internet dark ages, well before the transgender label was even used. Perhaps, had I had access to gender information I would have known the way I felt went way past being a cross dresser or a transvestite, as we were known in those days.

In my mind, the separation between a gender want or need was I could enjoy cross dressing for awhile when I wanted to but wanted to be feminine because I needed to. Sadly, it took me years to figure out what was going on. I went ahead playing the same old male role I disliked so much as I tried to be accepted into a macho male world without becoming a toxic man. Naturally, it was a difficult game to play and wrecked havoc with how I treated the world. My gender issues and how I dealt with them made me so frustrated and mean, I even lost jobs because of them. 

As the information age caught up to me, I began to understand I was not alone in the world any longer and there was even a label for my gender questioning. It was called transgender and it explained why I had never quite felt at home when I started to explore the cross dresser mixers I went to. Most certainly I knew I met a diverse mix of people. Including some of whom were headed for gender realignment surgery. To go that extent went way past being a want and into being a need. Especially if you were going to all the pain and expense to solve the gender problem they may have had. Even though I was intrigued by the transsexuals as they were called then, I knew somehow I quite did not fit it into their world. The same as I felt for the majority of the cross dressers attempting to express their femininity the best they could. I was stuck in the middle again.

I made the best of it by trying my best to research both sides of the spectrum I was observing. At the same time, I was doing my best to improve my femininization presentation so I could observe closer the transsexuals to see if their path could be mine. My biggest deterrents to following the TS route was my second wife who I loved very much and not having the insurance coverage to complete all the expensive surgeries. What I did have was the need to make a gender change. It had long since gone way past being a simple want. By doing so, I put myself into a gender pressure cooker which took me many years to release the pressure and escape.

Even still, the pressure release was not immediate and took me many years of exploration to accomplish. So many days and nights of being lonely and searching for my identity as a transgender woman finally came around to help me. 

I was able to learn my gender issues were so much more than a want because I never had a choice. They were a need I had to survive.      

Tomorrow is Here

Labor Day 2024.

 Throughout my life, I was the best at putting everything off. From homework to attacking a gender issue, I kept putting it off, hoping it would go away. 

Of course it never did and I was stuck until the last moment trying to do something about it. My best laid plans for escape never did work. Especially when it came to my gender issues. When I was young, the whole plan seemed simple enough. Cross dress as a girl as much as I could get away with and then escape back into my male world. No matter how painful that was. 

It was a good plan until life became more and more complex and I wanted more and more from my cross dressing activities. In other words, I wanted out of the mirror and into the world. I started innocently enough with quick trips to the mail box during the day when I was the only one home. Of course I had to wear my shortest skirt and feel the cool air on my freshly shaven legs and I was hooked for life. 

The problem was, tomorrow was never quite here. Once I cross dressed for a quick day, I needed to go back and try to exist in a male world I never really wanted and I deeply resented it. Repeating the entire routine over and over again made me moody, grumpy and overall difficult to live with. Perhaps the worst part was, I had no one to talk to concerning my gender issues. So a full fledged gender tomorrow never came for me. I was just digging myself a deeper hole, thinking someday my life would change. Then, I didn't know it would but I didn't consider how much work it would take me to do it. 

Days, years and even decades went by and still I hid from myself all my gender truths. Most of the time I did not live in the present while I kept in the back of my mind the next time I could cross dress and enjoy my small but growing feminine wardrobe. All of the waiting created it's own set of issues. During that time, my male self was doing his best to survive and prosper in the world. Which at the same time, made the idea of transitioning into a transgender woman more complex and intimidating. It was easy to keep putting off what I knew deep down was true, I was always meant to be a girl. I just had to be in the position to reach out and grab her. 

During that portion of my life, it seemed my gender tomorrow would never be here and massive roadblocks stood up and blocked my way. Navigating them in my newly acquired heels would be a challenge I would have to accept as I crossed the gender border to play in the girl's sandbox. I found myself to be way past the tomorrow mode and started to believe my dream of living as a full time transgender woman was very achievable. 

Very quickly tomorrow became today and with the help of others, I seized the opportunity before I became too old to enjoy it. I am not shy of saying I waited until I was sixty to transition and begin HRT for what ever reason. I ended up feeling so natural, I wondered why I waited so long. 

Gender Prison

Image from Denis Oliveria
om UbSplsh

Many transgender women and trans men have spent numerous years in their own gender prisons. Sometimes referred to as closets. 

Unless you have had to spend time in your own prison with the walls closing in all the time, you have no idea of how bad it is. Just another proof being transgender is some sort if a choice. Why would we ever choose to possibly destroy ourselves with our gender issues. It all got to the point with me, I was doing all I could to manifest myself being as feminine as I could. When all along my male self was telling me I couldn't. 

I finally arrived at the point where I was given free time from my gender prison to explore the world as my new self. When I did, most certainly I discovered I wanted more and more free time. I discovered also, I needed a ton of work to prepare myself for freedom. I was not prepared for all the challenges I would have to face as a novice transgender woman. Since I had spent so much time cross dressing in my life, I thought how much harder could it be. I never factored in what my second wife was always trying to tell me, I did not really know much about being a woman and she was not going to do much to help me out of my gender prison. 

When she told me that, I reverted back to working ever harder to understand what she meant. Since I had studied women closely my entire life, I resolved myself to trying to get behind the feminine curtain to learn more. It would take me years to get there since it seemed I was living a life time sentence in my gender prison. Outside of a few varied chances to thrive, my prison seemed to be escape proof. How was I ever able to leave my prison without jeopardizing all the white male privileges I had worked so hard for such as family, friends and employment. It seemed the more I tried to escape, the more the walls closed in on me.

Once I staged my big gender prison break, there was no turning back. I discovered that even though my wife would not help me pull back the feminine gender curtain, other women would and I took advantage of their kindness. Even when I was able to, I found I was still looking over my shoulder for any male prison guards who were chasing me. It turned out, even in heels, I was faster than they were and I managed to outrun my naysayers which mainly was myself. 

With practice in the world, I finally put my prison time behind me and I set out to live my dream life as a fulltime transgender woman. One way or another, I had paid my gender dues for nearly half a century before I had the courage to fully transition. It felt so good to be let out of my gender prison and not have to go back. 

My parole officers turned out to be the women friends I found and cherished as I learned so much from them about living in a feminine world. When I used their input and included it with what my own inner woman was telling me, I was able to make a smooth transition even smoother. Plus, I was able to use my prison time as a powerful motivator of what not to do in the world. Even as a man, I tried to treat women differently than the other men around me. Mainly because I wanted so badly to be one of them. 

In the end, spending all the time in my gender prison did not do much for my life. I spent so much mental energy rebelling against my male world, I often wonder how much farther I could have gone if I had used all my resources. It wasn't to be because I was in my own gender prison and could not find the key.

Never Going Back

Archive image. Liz on left.

Once I started down the road to living my dream as a transgender woman, I found I could never go back.

I am sure it all started the first time I viewed myself in my Mom's clothes and makeup in the mirror so many years ago. All I knew was something clicked inside me and I enjoyed the process immensely and couldn't wait to do it again. Going back to my male self became increasingly difficult. 

It stayed a problem the older I became as I began to be better with the makeup and fashion choices I could find. I even went as far as shaving my legs when I was young to get rid of the hated hair which came along with my unwanted puberty into a testosterone poisoned body. Still I persisted living a secret yet powerful life in the mirror as a girl. Through my often clownish makeup, I could still see my authentic feminine self peeking at me and I loved her. 

Over the years, practice made perfect and in many ways I was able to cover up my male body and present well enough as a woman to try out the world. Even though I took many bumps and bruises along the way, I persisted and small victories helped me to want to never return to the male life I never really wanted. Every now and then I was able to be successful in the world as a novice cross dresser. Still not understanding I was so much more than wanting to just look like a woman. I wanted to be a woman. Cross dressing was a welcome bridge to getting me to the big picture of my life, my desire to be a trans woman. Once I came to the point of wondering just where I fit in with my big picture in life, then I needed to see if I could make all the needed sacrifices to get there. All of my "secret" adventures as a transgender woman could cost me all I had worked so hard on in my male life. If discovered, I could lose my marriage, family, friends and jobs. As you can tell, a lot to be considered.  

During that time, destiny kept setting in and deep down kept telling me I could achieve my ultimate gender dream. Every blind corner I turned and every step I climbed on my path was showing me the way as I carved out a new life as a transgender woman. All of a sudden, my doubts started to disappear I was succeeding more and more when I sought to flip my male life to female. I even began to go to the same venues I went to as a guy with little to no problems. When I did, deep down I was terrified of losing my life as I knew it but on the other hand, I knew I was never going back. There was no way.

By the time I decided I was never going back, my decision was made so much easier by several things. Including unconditional acceptance by my daughter, the very few friends I had passing away and not having a job to worry about (since I was able to retire) made my decision so much easier. Even my very stubborn old male self could see no future and he faded away as I took the final steps to completing my gender transition. I even was able to solve my marital situation the hard way when my un-approving second wife passed away and I unexpectedly became involved with a very supportive third wife who loves me for who I am. 

I believe pushing forward and never quitting was something I learned from my parents. I am sure they would have never envisioned their teachings turning out this way with me.

Procrastination

From the archives.
JJ Hart

I am well versed in most areas of procrastination. 

After all, I have spent most of my long life procrastinating as a transgender woman. Recently, I received the inevitable question of why I waited so long in my life to finally tackle my gender issues and transition. Even my daughter who has displayed the ultimate in acceptance in my transition over the years (and has a transgender child) shyly questioned me one day about if I had always known I was trans. With very little thought, I answered I had always known but I did not tell her how long I procrastinated doing anything about it.

One of my excuses has been times change over the years and the late fifties and early to mid sixties were dark times for anyone with gender issues. In fact, I remember the stories I saw about the police rounding up any transvestite or gay men in paddy wagons and taken to jail in the pre-Stonewall revolutions in New York City. So, when I included a very non accepting family life, the period of time was not a good time for me to outwardly explore any gender issues. 

Another excuse I had for procrastinating my coming out and living as my authentic self for so long was I lived in the pre-internet dark ages. In fact, my wife Liz and I went shopping for a new computer for her. Long story short, I was intimidated and totally lost in the whole process, I faded into the background. Liz needed a specific type of computer for her art business and had researched the whole computer situation. The only thing I could do was later on compare her research to mine when it came to me even considering I was transgender. Plus I was pleased when the clerk, checking Liz out referred to me as "she".

As times changed and more and more information concerning gender issues became available, I changed too. But not to the point I was ready to accept the fact I wanted to do more than just look like a woman, a part of me was screaming I was a woman. Now I know some would argue there is no way I will ever be a woman and I argue back my mind tells me I am even though in between my legs tells me I am not. Even though I could not experience periods or being pregnant, I went through so many things cis woman could never conceive of doing. Even so, I still went against my inner feelings and procrastinated again and again that I was indeed transgender. 

Deep down, I knew the truth but kept putting off the fact I was trans and letting the pressure build on myself. Finally when I went out into the world, I knew I wasn't trying to fool anyone. I was just being myself. When I couldn't lie to myself any longer, on a magical evening I will never forget I faced an internal mirror and decided who was looking back at me. No longer was I am a victim of the world and I was done procrastinating. From that point forward, I decided to go all the way and move forward to explore my full potential as a transgender woman. Major moves were ahead and exciting yet terrifying such as the major impact of adding gender affirming hormones to my system. 

It wasn't until I was truthful to myself and decided to follow a feminine path which I should have followed years ago did I become happier than I ever thought possible. My mental health improved and I got off almost all of the alcohol I was so fond of. Procrastination was behind me and just do it became my theme. 

Just be Yourself

 

Image from Cory
on UnSplash

When you are a transgender woman or trans man, finding yourself can be a daunting task. 

Are you a boy or a girl is bad enough when you have to think about it but is even worse when you need to live your gender desires. Just being yourself becomes extra difficult when you are applying it to real life when you leave the mirror and take on the world. We all know that sometimes the world can be a very unforgiving place. Human beings are sharks and will sniff out the slightest hint of blood in the water. A bad place to be in when you are a novice transgender woman or cross dresser who is trying to make it as your authentic self and you are very insecure. 

At this point, many trans folk resort to fairly drastic measures to attempt to present well as the gender they are attempting to be. Fashion mistakes are made, just to name a few potential problems faced. It is difficult with no previous training or input from peers to catch up with the world and not appear as a clown. I do not want to remember how many thrift store items I returned because they did not fit me or flatter my male body style. For the longest time, I did not think I was ever going to find appropriate clothes I could be myself in. Not to mention the hair and makeup I was struggling with. Somehow I managed to fight through my inner gender biases and come up with fashion choices which the public could life with. When I did, I started to explore different venues such as community festivals and outdoor concerts to see if I could be myself.

Even though I was successful, I still fought internally my desire to be feminine. It took me decades to understand I was a woman cross dressing as a man and not the opposite which caused me such inner turmoil. 

Another problem I had when I was transitioning genders was staying in the present. When I was out and about as a novice femininized person, I was so busy being worried about every little thing, I could not enjoy being me. It took me years to actually accept the gender euphoria I felt when I had succeeded in presenting as an attractive woman in public. To battle my instincts, I did events which were more lengthy so I needed to live in the present longer. An example was the Joe Cocker outdoor concert I took myself to, just to see if I could and the NFL Monday night football game a lesbian friend took me to. There were no easy escapes to these events so I had to put my fear aside and try to be myself.

I am not a quick learner and my male self battled me for control of my life for a half a century before I finally gave in to my gender truth. When I did, my inner woman took charge for good and I was finally able to be myself. I could live in the present and not wait for the next time I could run and put on my feminine clothes and feel good about myself. I was wearing the clothes all the time and if or when I felt my old gender dysphoria creep in, I could solve the issue before it became too major.

It is easy to say all of us deserve the chance to be ourselves but it is extra important for a transgender person. Because, first we need to discover who our true inner person really is. Once you do, just being yourself is a much reachable goal to have.

Saving my Life

Image from the 
Jessie Hart Archives

I write often concerning my struggles with my frail mental health. Mainly because I want to help others. 

Much of my mental health battle was because of my struggle with gender dysphoria. After meeting in person with other transgender women and men, I have come to the conclusion dysphoria is on a spectrum. Similar to so many other human issues it can vary from person to person. Years ago, I was shocked at one of the transgender - cross dresser support meetings I attended back then and got into a discussion about gender dysphoria with the group's moderator about how she had never experienced any dysphoria at all. At first I wondered if we were speaking the same language and did she know what I was talking about at all .I never had the chance to find out because the meeting moved on.

Through it all, I knew I had suffered on the severe end of the dysphoria spectrum for as long as I could remember. The only way I could relieve the stress was to cross dress in my limited feminine makeup and wardrobe. The entire process turned to be a terrible problem because I would feel good for a couple of days after I cross dressed then crashed and burned into depression and worse yet, being mean to those around me. 

Finally, therapy entered my life and I learned several truths very quickly. The first of which was my first two therapists had little to no idea of what I was talking about when I brought up being a transvestite, as we were known back in those days. The second thing I learned was my first two therapists totally missed any idea of diagnosing me as being Bi-Polar. It took me going to a real live gender therapist to learn my bad highs and lows had little or nothing with my gender issues. They were totally separate and somehow, someway I would need to find away to deal with them on my own. Then when I was lucky enough to be assigned to a very good LGBTQ trained Veterans Association therapist for over ten years, she helped me to relieve any shame I still felt about wanting to be female. Which was huge.

Good therapy meant better mental health when I learned to actually listen and believe in what my therapist was telling me. In the past, I was too stubborn to do so and kept my feminine self firmly in the mirror, until I could not take it any longer. I simply had to try my best to enter the world as a novice transgender woman and see how I felt. Long story short, I felt great, natural and so excited to try out the world. 

The whole process, saved my life. My mental health stabilized to a point I did not need therapy anymore. Mainly because I became a believer in my dominant female self who was hidden away for far too long. There was no one to tell me I was a woman trying desperately to get by cross dressing in a male world. It would have been interesting to see if I had would have listened if they had. I was always very stubborn which helped me when I was being rejected as a novice transgender woman. Or when I was down, I just kept moving. On the other hand my stubborn attitude caused me to hang on to my male life way too long. 

One thing was for sure, conquering the severe part of my gender dysphoria did save my life. I am down now to fighting my mirror when I get up in the morning, which I can handle I stay grounded in the fact I am not as ugly as the man I used to be and not the prettiest woman in the room. I am just me and that will have to do.

It's All in the Eyes

Sad Eyes
Image from
the Archives.

Over the years, my eyes have helped me out in many ways.

Of course there is the obvious reason such as the blessing of eyesight but then, life steps in- very importantly for a cross dresser or transgender woman trying her best to improve her makeup art. For me at least, the hardest part of conquering the mystery of makeup  involved making up my eyes. At the time, I equated it with applying paint to the plastic model  cars I was fond of building because I struggled with both. Ironically, at the age I was at, I am fairly sure my Mom would have did her best to forbid any use of makeup at all by the daughter she never knew she had. 

Still I persisted and grew more proficient with buying then applying my eye makeup, The availability of all the colors fascinated me. Along with the chance to match colors up with my limited fashion choices I was capable of finding. It was close as I could come to all the girls around me who I admired so much. 

Fast forwarding many years, my eyes continued to be a focal point in my makeup art. I had learned along the way women communicate through the eyes in many ways. Much more than men who rely on vocal cues. I knew as I transitioned into transgender woman, I was on the right path with my makeup techniques. All the years I put into my art was worth it.

Perhaps the most rewarding feedback I received from my eyes came from my wife Liz. For all the wrong reasons. We met on line when she responded to a post I listed as woman seeking woman. Keep in mind I immediately pointed out I was a transgender woman. Thankfully, none of my gender issue mattered to Liz and she said she was attracted to me because I had sad eyes. If the truth be known, during that part of my life, I did have sad eyes. Over the past two or three years before the picture, I had just gone through very dark portions of my life. Primarily due to death of my second wife and four of my closest friends, mainly to cancer. Along with the loss of my business, I had lost nearly all the self confidence I had ever had in myself. In fact, the only concrete thing I had to grasp onto was my identity as a trans woman. 

Regardless of my sad eyes, my girl self became my deepest passion. In many ways, just to get by, I needed to become a deeper researcher of women. Instead of becoming my father's son which I had chased for many years, I became my mother's daughter she never wanted, to my knowledge. The gender guilt I felt was only grief with no where to go. 

Led by my eyes when I communicated with other women, I found my way out of the darkness of life I was in and regained my confidence. Even though it was a different confidence than I had ever felt before. My confidence as a transgender woman was a hard earned quality which went all the way back to the days when I was struggling with makeup and shaving my legs when I was a kid. Living and learning was always an exciting experience. Even in the days when I was a dismal failure in the world. Somehow, deep down, I knew I was doing the right thing by pursuing a life as a trans woman. 

It was always in the eyes, I just had to learn how to use mine. They were such an important part of my life when it came to communicating with other women. Perhaps it is true when it is said your eyes are the window to the soul.

Buckle Up!

Image 
from the 
Jessie 
Hart
Archives

Recently, I have happened across several posts on my social media feeds from novice transgender women just beginning HRT or gender affirming hormones. 

In many ways, as I look back on my hormonal experiences, I am envious. Mainly because my experience was so exciting. Possibly because I was finally realizing my attempt to take a major step forward in my transgender transition. For years, I had dreamed of starting HRT, much to the chagrin of my second wife who was completely against it. She had always told me, she did not want to live with another woman and the hormones would take me dangerously close to doing it.

When I actually started down the HRT path, little did I know how right she would be. I was naïve and I thought my new journey would involve growing breasts and hair but never dreamed of all the other changes which would take place. My skin softened along with my facial angles which helped  my feminine presentation in the world. I could use much less makeup and do away with wearing wigs because I was fortunate I did not inherit any male pattern baldness.  

Before I knew it I really wanted it to happen, I was becoming very androgynous and had to do something. With my hair, breasts and skin alone, it was time to begin to think about the circumstances to what I was doing. Plus, I have not even mentioned all the extra benefits of going through the second major puberty in my life. When I did, I discovered so many new things about myself such as when my sense of smell suddenly improved and my body's thermostat went away. What happened was I was cold all the time and suddenly understood women were not making it up all the times when they said they were chilly.

Then there were the onset of emotions I went through when I started HRT. Previously in my male life I had become very insulated when dealing with my emotions. Sadly, I became so callous, I had a difficult time shedding a tear when my parents passed away. Suddenly, one night, when a late summer thunderstorm moved in, I sat alone on my side porch and started to cry for the loss of my old male self. It was such a powerful moment in my life, I will never forget it. 

Of course if you are just starting down your path to femininizing hormones, there will be many peaks and valleys or ups and downs. Similar to so many others, I questioned the gender path I was taking. Was it the correct one? So, I buckled up for the ride. I'm not sure now if I was ready for the first hot flashes I went through which hit me when I was out in public and I ended up wondering if the world had noticed I was getting ready to internally combust. Perhaps back in those days, the worst part of my gender journey was I had no one to share it with. I was just getting to know the small circle of women friends I started to hang out with on a regular basis and knew they would only say welcome to their world if I brought up anything such as hot flashes to them. 

After awhile, I came to the conclusion I had buckled up for one of the best roller coaster rides there were. The best part was, for the most part, I had no idea what was coming up next. When I was approved for larger dosages under the care of a doctor, changes continued to come at a rapid pace. Under medical care, I went from pills to patches which supposedly helped with the wear and tear on inner organs such as kidneys. Life was good as I adjusted to the new hormones and I felt as if my body was telling me I was a natural for gender affirming hormones all the time. 

The very few people who knew me pre-transition said it the best, I just seemed more relaxed and happy now as a transgender woman. I never said anything but I gave most of the credit for my new found joy to the hormones I was on. HRT had helped me to sync up my internal and external gender feelings. It would have been "TMI" or too much information for the average person to understand. 

I will always wonder how my deceased second wife would have reacted to me as a transgender woman. Would I ever have paid enough dues to move out of the pretty pretty princess mode she threw me in and ascend to the woman mode she was so afraid of. I would like to think at the least we still could have remained friends.  I will never know.

At the least, your journey will be different than mine in many ways and will include many twists and turns. Just try to enjoy the journey many others will never have the chance to take.

Much More than a Phase

 

Civil War Cemetery image
from the Jessie Hart Archives. 

When I was first experimenting with wearing woman's clothing, I worked long and hard to hide all my feminine wardrobe and makeup. 

Due to transportation and financial constraints I always had a difficult time adding to my very limited collection. Plus, I always wondered if my Mom ever really discovered her clothes and others I managed to "borrow" for my cross dressing trips to my mirror. If she did, she never confronted me about it. Perhaps she thought it all was a phase and I would grow out of it. Similar to the fallacy, being transgender is ever a choice, I learned my gender issues were much more than a phase.

Very early on, I discovered a lesson I should have relied on but kept on ignoring. The lesson was, I wanted to be a girl, not just look like one. The very beginning of the realization I was transgender as I envied everything girls around me did.  Which went far past their pretty clothes while I was stuck in my drab male clothes. All along I was stuck in a family which valued male superiority and I wanted to rebel but couldn't. I often wonder if I had been born into a more diverse family (if that was possible back in those days) I could have made my feelings known and thrived. Instead, I did the only male thing I knew how to do and internalized all my inner feelings. I even thought, if I ignored my gender issues long enough, they would turn out to be a phase and go away.

Of course my gender dysphoria never did go away and just grew worse as I began to understand the full depth of what I was facing. As I look back, Halloween parties were my first indication I could do more than living a shallow life in front of the mirror as a cross dresser. I learned the hard way, heels weren't so much fun when I first wore them on long walks all the way to how much fun I had experimenting with the clothes and learning from the parties as a whole. Another step towards showing me my phase was not going away, I was just growing into it.

Halloween parties proved to be false feedback in many ways. Most people who saw me were friends who thought Haha I was the clown dressing as a woman for a laugh. Even though I was going as far as shaving my legs. In my mind, my legs alone would do the trick and everyone would know I was much more than a once a year man putting on a dress. At least I wanted it to as I grew confident I could present more and more as a real woman at the party. When I had achieved my goal, I felt I was ready to pursue a future as a successful transgender woman. 

When I did, the work really started. Life was so much more challenging as I left my male phase in my past. I wonder now if my Mom ever thought my simple love of girls clothes was a phase, what would she think now. Outside of the one time I tried to come out to her as a transvestite and she rejected me, we never discussed it again before her death. I can't help but look back and regret how much life I may have lost if she would have ever accepted me. I on the other hand took the high road and honored her by using her first name as my new legal middle name.  

Normally, phases come and go but certainly none of it applies to being a cross dresser or transgender person. Once the public at large learns to accept we are not a phase, trans kids especially could benefit from more understanding when they are young. Parents and siblings could have a more serious outlook of what being trans is all about, helping the whole situation. Or, leave the phase out and help the person.