Earning my Way into the Sandbox of Women

 

Image from Juli
Kosalapova on
UnSplash.

I call being accepted in the feminine world of ciswomen around me, as being able to play in their sandbox.

Getting a chance was similar to living a dream and very difficult for me to do. To begin with, I needed to lose whatever weight I could off of my very male dominate frame and take better care of my skin, so I could use less makeup. I desperately wanted to be pretty but accomplished it as naturally as I could. Motivation to do both came easily for me because I was obsessed with doing something very well in life that I cared so deeply about. Surprising even myself, I was able to shed nearly fifty pounds as well start moisturizing daily after I shaved. Obviously, the weight loss helped more dramatically when I could shop for a better selection of stylish women’s clothes in my new size and the decrease in makeup I needed spoke for itself when I presented better in the world.

Even with those positive results behind me, I was still very naïve and had very little knowledge of what I would have to do to be let in to play in the sandbox by the alpha female gatekeepers. As my second wife was always fond of telling me after major fights, we had that I made a terrible woman. Then she added she was not talking about appearance. Which was good since I had just had situations where I was mistaken for a ciswoman to back me up. Then I was confused, if it was not my feminine appearance holding me back, what was it? What would make me a better woman after all.

From that point on, I set out on a mission to understand what she was telling me but I had a major drawback…I was still living the vast majority of my life as a man and as such, ciswomen would not allow me back behind the gender curtain. For the most part, I was stuck in my part-time cross-dressing ways until I could find a better way out. The sandbox remained a faraway dream.

The main problem remained. My male ego would not easily let me pull down my male defenses to see and learn what really went on in a women’s world which operated quite nicely with or without male influence. For the longest time, he (me) refused to listen to women the best he could to learn what they were really saying when he was stuck playing the game behind the gender border. I felt as if I was in East-Germany behind the Berlin wall of gender. I knew I wanted to escape but did not have the willpower to do it. I was a victim to my newly discovered transgender hopes and dreams. At that point, I still had not realized how far behind my gender dreams being a victim made me and I still felt sorry for myself because of all my gender dysphoric issues.

As I always point out, it was not until I began to experience my version of womanhood in the public’s eye did anything begin to change for me. All the effort I put into my appearance came back to help me get my high heeled foot in the door with other women. Then the real work began when I needed to communicate and interact with them. What happened was many other ciswomen were encountering me on a regular basis in the venues where I always went, so I needed to develop a stable feminine persona to go with my appearance. What would I call myself and what wigs would I wear every time I went out are prime examples of what I am talking about. I was getting to the point where I was staring my forties in the eye and I knew I was not getting any younger and in the back of my mind, I had a sneaking suspicion that I had lived my life all wrong up to this point.

Rather than bemoan all of the mistakes or missed opportunities I had as a male, I needed to face the fact I was wasting my time as a male anyhow because I was always meant to be female. I went home and wrote in my secret diary that I was not a man cross dressing as a woman; I was a woman doing her best to cross dress as a man and build a life on a house of cards.

The realization of my true gender status enabled me to be my real self to the public and ciswomen responded well to my truthful gender identity. Even if they were curious what I was doing in their world and why I wanted to play in their sandbox and work my way into coveted woman only spaces. Finally, I was coming to the point where I could think I achieved my own womanhood, just in a different way than most ciswomen. I was still relevant to the world and should be allowed to play in the sandbox.

Another big lesson I learned was that once I was in the sandbox, I needed to work harder to stay. One slip up back to my old male self, and I would be labeled an impostor and barred from the box. Faced with the task of starting all over again. To the best of my ability, all of my feminine mannerisms, interactions and vocalizations had to be perfect. I was so afraid most of the time until I finally began to relax and have confidence in myself.

The best part about the entire process was I survived to write about it and hopefully to inspire others in this very trying, difficult time to be a transgender woman to make it also. We all have differing yet similar paths to make it to the women’s sandbox. Just don’t expect the process to be all positive and you can make it by hopefully finding ciswomen who knowingly or unknowingly help you along. Those minor claw marks you might receive like I did down my back were just learning marks and helped me along. More than the women scratching me ever knew.

They helped me to earn my way into playing in the women’s sandbox. The claw marks just equated out to the stripes I earned when I was in the Army.

 

 

 

 

Meeting a Hero's Wife

 

Image from UnSplash.

This is a short post which basically revolves around the unexpected meeting I had yesterday with a very special person.

Nearly every Friday afternoon I attend a LGBTQ support group (virtually) at the Dayton, Ohio Veteran’s Administration hospital.

It is one of the best support groups I have ever been involved in, and it is rare that all the original attendees still come to the meetings. It is a very diverse group with everyone from gay men and lesbians to transgender women like me. Yesterday we had a full house including a new participant who I assumed to be a questioning lesbian ciswoman.

I turned out to be very wrong and as the hour meeting went on the moderator very skillfully brought it out of her why she was there. It turns out she is the wife of a hero. Her spouse is one of the transgender service persons forced to leave the military by the supreme coward who dodged the draft “Captain Bone Spurs.” Better known as president tRumpt. When she told their story, I was wowed and expressed my position that her spouse was a true hero and would she be joining the group in the future.

Since she said, they were just exploring the area for LGBTQ contacts, that would be a real possibility. And I was thrilled to have the chance to meet her. So, I will see if I have the chance after the Christmas holiday when we have our next support session. I will let you know what happens.

In the meantime, my wife Liz and I will not be attending any concerts by the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra this season. Years ago, I tested my courage and even found a sequined formal dress to wear to a holiday concert with Liz. Even though, it was not my favorite form of music, I managed to calm down and enjoy the show when I learned not everyone else was looking at me.

We even stopped for drinks on the way home (in an Uber) so we would not have to drive and had a great time. Since Liz is a Wiccan, we don’t celebrate Christmas as such, we celebrate Yule instead which is close since the Christians “borrowed” Christmas from the pagans in ancient times. Plus, my daughter converted to Judaism years ago, so I am pretty much left out of the Christmas holidays altogether which is a total change from the years with my second wife who was a fanatic. Poetic justice, I guess.

Even though those days are past me, I am fortunate to still have Liz’s family to feel the holiday warmth from. I know many in the transgender community are not so well off this time of year.

For me, just the chance to meet a hero’s wife in person was a huge gift unto itself. As I said, I hope she comes back for more interaction and brings the hero with her.

 

 

More Gender Dreams

 

Image from Robin Edqvist
on UnSplash.

Last night I had one of those dreams I always had hoped I would have when I was young. I dreamed I was dressing myself into a pretty woman and actually going out into the world. The experience was different because of some reason I still dream that I am male in the vast majority of dreams that I have.

Even better, the usual suspects in my world at the time were all present and encountered for in my dream. To the point I was even sneaking around my second wife’s back to cross dress. Another interesting point was my hair. As many of you know, through the power of genetics and HRT, I have been able to grow an amazing head of thick long hair at the age of seventy-six. Going without wigs and having my own hair styled was always an impossible dream for me, until it magically happened. Which is an experience for another blog post.

In the dream, I remember trying to choose between wearing a wig and brushing out my own hair, which I chose. For some reason, I was trying to throw caution to the wind and go out for something to eat with just women’s clothes, my hair and no makeup. Also, I was calling my wife at work to make sure she was still there, which was something I always did back then to not get caught. My second wife was the one I lost to a heart attack at the age of fifty and when and if I dream of her, she always is a blur. So, I was surprised when she appeared in this dream. My guess is it is because my habit of sneaking around her back and cross dressing was so prevalent in my life at that time that it stuck in my subconscious. And it just decided to make an unscheduled surprise appearance.

In the past, I have corresponded with other transgender women on how many of their dreams were with which gender. Interestingly, many of them responded that they dream mostly as women. I do too, sometimes, but mainly I am stuck with being a man in my dreamworld. Perhaps it is because I needed to battle so hard to maintain and even advance in a male world, I wanted no part of. I just needed to survive. That portion of my life still equals roughly two thirds of my time on this planet. So, the more time I spend as a transfeminine person should equal out to the more dream time I have as a woman.

Exactly like when I was young and could not wait to go to sleep and dream of waking up as a pretty girl, this morning I did not want to wake up and rejoin reality. It made no sense to me why I felt that way because I have been so fortunate to have been living a transgender dream in a real world for over a decade now. I guess change comes slow in my subconscious, and I should take advantage of still living part time on the other side of the gender border (male).

I suppose I should be lucky I don’t have gender dreams which turn into nightmares. I do hope I have the chance to meet my second wife in another world after I die and finally learn that she accepts me and not just in a dream. Afterall, she was right when she told me to man up and be a woman. I finally did and became happy.

 

 

 

Letting Things Happen versus Making things Happen as a Trans Woman

Image from Mahdi Chaghari
on UnSplash.

Perhaps you have heard a football coach talk about slowing the game down and simplifying it for his players. Of course, I had to equate it with being a transgender woman or trans man when I heard it.

I began to think of all the stressful days I spent in front of the mirror as my perception of a pretty girl, then taking my image public and into the world. For years it never occurred to me that I was trying too hard. I was attempting to micro-manage myself to ensure every little aspect of my feminine image was correct. Here is an example of what I was doing wrong. On any given day, my makeup and fashion were on point, and I was confident about my presentation. Then as I was out trying it all in the public’s eye, I would either catch myself walking hunched over like a linebacker or worse yet, trip over my own heels and almost fall. It took me quite a while to realize what I was doing wrong and try to change it.

For me, relaxation and confidence were the key to real gender change. I was letting it happen rather than making it happen. I discovered it was so much more pleasurable for me when it happened that way. After that I could take my game to a different level such as communicating one on one with the world for once as my authentic feminine self. A key point I had to do if I was ever going to make it to my dream of a male to female femininization project.

I also established bucket lists of things I wanted to do as a transgender woman and was able to accomplish most of them except a couple of ill-thought-out visits to women’s rooms when I had the police called on me. Letting it happen surely did not work for me then, but I recovered and gained my restroom privileges in other venues I went to. Fortunately, the police had better things to do than mess with me and I went on my way without further problems. That was years ago and I haven't had any problems since. That was a good thing because the restroom privilege was something that I needed more than wanted.

I cannot stress enough about how much I had to learn during this period of my life when I was making a serious push towards transitioning from a serious cross dresser all the way to a transgender woman. When in reality, it was mostly a mental transition, it was still a very important one to make. I have a difficult time explaining it but all of a sudden, something clicked in my mind, and I knew another change was needed. I was so more than a man wanting to look like a woman.  I wanted to be a woman and feel like one as close as I could. That was when I successfully set out to socialize with cisgender women just to see if I could. I conquered my fear and found out I could add another layer of just letting it happen versus making it happen.

By this time, my muscle memory had improved so much as a trans woman that it became natural to me. So much so in fact that I had to be careful I was not too effeminate when it came to me working my male job and living with my wife. It finally became too much for me to juggle, and I needed to put it down before it was too late and I became more self-destructive than I already was. What I did was, attempt to do more things as a transfeminine person and do as less as humanly possible as my male self. It is one of the reasons I took so long to transition, because of the need to work around a disapproving wife and male self which was desperately hanging on.

You regulars know this part of my story when my wife tragically passed away. Which left only my weakened male self to resist any efforts at total domination from my inner female who had waited so long for her chance to live and write her own gender workbook. Little did I know she kept her own workbook up to date and was ready to go. If and when she had a chance to use it. Perhaps, your inner female is keeping a gender workbook also and you will not have as far to go to catch up when you get the chance to live your life.

I discovered too that letting it happen versus making it happen was mostly common sense. Even though the two main binary genders do things differently, they often operate in parallel universes which are the same and seem to be doing more so in the younger generations. I first learned up close and personal during my first girl’s nights out I went to. I was worried about what I needed to do to be able to interact with the group but then found they had just flipped the script from jobs and sports to family and friends with the women. Quickly I relaxed and started to let my inner girl flow, and I was fine with most of all the other participants except for one who I perceived as being a miserable person anyway. Who was unlikeable to me, and I left her alone.

I chuckle to myself when I think of how my football coach’s words would come back to help me in such a different way later in life. I guess it proves that you just cannot count on anything staying the same when it comes to gender. Perhaps that is a clue why the population at large knows nothing about us and we live parallel lives from both of them. Whatever it is, if you are in your path of gender discovery, you will certainly feel the change from making it happen to letting it happen.

 

                                                                                                                                          . 

Gender is a Basic Human Instinct

 

JJ Hart, Birthday Dinner.

One of the most basics of human instincts is gender. It comes with us at birth and is then (right or wrong) reinforced by our families. External factors kick in to put us in a tight gender box and keep us there. How we are treated as boys and girls, goes a long way in how our future is shaped. In my mind boys were always told to get out there and conquer the world while girls were coddled in a pretty world. It took me decades of interactions with ciswomen to learn that was not true. In their own ways, women face the same competitive challenges as men, just coming from different angles or perspectives. I told one of the experiences I had yesterday when I waded into the ciswomen’s world for the first time and discovered how brutal passive aggressive behavior could be.  

Examples include boys competing more physically with each other while girls learn to compete just as hard but in a more passive nature. One way or another, gender as an instinct is ingrained into us quite early in life and is difficult to change. One of the reasons transgender women and trans men are so misunderstood in the world today. Not to mention the fact that we are very rare, and very few people have ever met a transgender person. I know my parents from the “greatest generation” were not great enough with me to understand how their first-born son wanted to be their daughter. Taking a page from the great Christmas movie “A Christmas Story”, I never wanted the BB Gun that “Ralphie” wanted in the movie, but I got one anyhow. Instead of the baby doll I really wanted. All my gender instincts were kicking in although I was not sure I knew exactly what was going on, I knew something was definitely wrong.

It was not until I began exploring the public as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman, did I start to understand what was going on with my own gender instincts. Facing up to the fact I never belonged in the male world as an active participant at all never came easy for me. Mainly because I had worked so hard to survive in a gender I did not want to be. To make matters worse, I was becoming more of a success in the male world. Even though I was so self-destructive I kept tearing down all the successes I kept building up as soon as I achieved them.

In my case, I think the war I waged with my internal gender instincts was much worse than the battles I faced for acceptance as a transfeminine person in the public’s eye. Even though they were major hurdles, obstacles such as confidence and impostor syndrome were holding me back. It seemed no matter how successful I was in my new world, I still felt like an impostor or outsider looking in. It took me quite a while to overcome my doubts and feel like I had as much right as the next woman to be in the space I was in. Over and over, I felt I was growing up into the woman I was always destined to be. It was just taking me longer to do it because of many external factors such as a whole train load of male baggage I had managed to accumulate in my life.

Along the way too, I was becoming a keen observer of the public’s gender instincts. Primarily ciswomen who for some reason had no problem with me as men nearly completely left me alone. By doing so, I was able to read other women like I had never been able to do before. Slowly but surely, my life began to turn full circle. Instead of going out to be alone, I was going out to socialize with other women who were mainly lesbians. They taught me a whole different set of gender instincts, mainly revolving on where I stood with the other half of the population, men. While other transgender women I knew were struggling to be validated by a man, I was flourishing when I was validated by women. It obviously is not a world which worked for everyone, but it worked for me.

With all the help I was receiving, I made it to a point where I did not consider myself trans when I was out in the world. I was just me, and I had all the confidence to go with it. It took me over a half a century to completely figure out my gender instincts, but I did it with some powerful help such as HRT or gender affirming hormones. The meds I was approved for helped me to understand what ciswomen go through in their lives such as hot flashes and other effects of female puberty. When I tried to talk about it to my women friends all they did was laugh and say welcome to their world. What I could not say was how happy I was to be there.

Cracking the code of human gender instincts is very difficult to do because it is so deeply ingrained in all of us and in many ways, it is a selfish thing to do. It takes a special person to understand when you have to immerse yourself in the other binary gender to just survive in life. If you are blessed to have found such a person, be sure to cherish and hang on to them because they are so rare.

In the meantime, keep your head on a swivel and be on the outlook for ways to improve your gender instincts. It is a difficult process and never one to be taken lightly. For me, at least it was a lifetime journey to finally discover something I already knew I refused to accept. I had my gender identity totally backwards and ended up paying the price for years. Just because I was afraid to face myself.

 

 

Trans Girl and the Christmas Season

 

Image from Roberto Nickson
on UnSplash.

Little did I know that Christmas would pass Halloween as my favorite season when I transitioned genders to the one I wanted. There were several factors which contributed to the change I was going through.

The first one was the ease I found I could get lost in the Christmas shopping crowds when I shopped as a trans woman. As long as I followed my fashion instincts. I learned I could follow several different shopping paths. For example, one day I could dress up and go to an upscale mall, and on the second, I could dress down and go shopping at a nearby local antique mall. I enjoyed the feminine freedom of choice immensely.

The second main reason I came to love Christmas so much more was I could really get into the spirit of giving. For some reason, being my transfeminine self-slowed me down and encouraged me to choose more thoughtful gifts for the people I cared about.

The third man reason was I could get lost as a woman in the hustle and bustle of the season. I forgot all about the buy something quickly and move on person I was as a man. My second wife was a huge gardener which made garden themed gifts popular with her, so I could shop at both style of malls for her garden gifts…new or vintage. In particular, I remember finding her a vintage seed merchandising box which she ended up cherishing in her collection. Right or wrong, she never found out my male self-did not buy it at all, my transgender side did.

Reason four was shopping as a woman took all the guilt of sneaking out of the house dressed as myself to buy gifts. I told myself I was not cheating on her when I did it if I was buying her a gift. Probably not the best reason in the world, but at that time it was the best one I had.

Reason five was that Christmas was such a longer season for me than Halloween. Halloween was an intense build up just for one day, and then the let down set in. Christmas of course lasted much longer, and I had the satisfaction of knowing my feminine self-bought all the gifts under the tree.

The final reason I can think of is since my wife always had a special gift giving night for my transfeminine self, I always felt guilty when I came up short for gifts for her. She was not much into makeup and fragrances and such, so the traditional ciswoman gifts were out. She never found out all her gifts could have been given out that night because of who they really came from. Instead, I ended up letting her open a few gifts at a time before Christmas itself.

Christmas at my house and my restaurant became a major holiday from the point of decoration. My wife had quite the collection of animated holiday figures, some new and some vintage which I was expected to find a way to display. As I did, I was put in a festive Christmas mood and made me more impatient to join the masses and do more shopping. Or at least all my finances could stand. Through it all, I was gaining the all-important confidence I would need to consider if my transgender dreams could become a reality after all. I could only discover if I was on the right gender path by the trial-and-error method. By attempting to stay out of the mirror and let the public tell me if I was right or wrong. I don’t know if the public was kinder at Christmas or not, but for some reason I was getting by and enjoying myself as a transfeminine person even more.

All these Christmas holiday positives did not leave me like the Halloween ones did. They became ingrained as I built my new life. A trans girl at Christmas soon became a trans girl period. All my learning gave me a new foundation to stand on when my life hit the skids, and I nearly lost everything. I lost my wife, what close friends I had, and my restaurant within a two-year period to death and recession. As it all crumbled before me, my feminine self-stood strong and ready to help. All I needed to do was let her with no strings attached. To ensure I could make a living until I could retire, I sold all the vintage items I had accounted for and was able to make enough to pay my back taxes and then retire from a job I hated. It worked because then, I would not have to worry about transitioning to a new job.

Now, since my second wife and her love for Christmas has long since departed, my daughter has converted to the Jewish faith and my wife Liz is wiccan, my overall interest in Christmas has waned. However, I will forever remember the festive seasons I went through in my past which helped me along so much in my male to female transition. I developed the instincts I needed to survive in a scary, exciting new feminine world. Being a trans girl at Christmas really worked out for the best for me.

 

Did I Take the Easy Way Out?

Image from Nicloe Geri
on UnSplash. 

 Yesterday I wrote about the seismic gender changes I went through or could have gone through in my life.

After I did, I began to think about where I took short cuts or took the easy way out of my new life as a transfeminine person. Maybe when you read yesterday’s post, you noticed it was primarily about the men who briefly entered and influenced my life as I questioned my own sexuality.

The fact of the matter was, I was afraid of having sex with a man. Mainly because I had never considered it as I was always connected to women. I wondered as I transitioned farther would my sexuality eventually change. Especially when I started HRT or gender affirming hormones. I knew when I did that, I was sacrificing any way of having so called “normal” sex with ciswomen would be gone as long as I was on the hormones. To be honest, I had always looked at sex as a way to please a partner rather than myself, so losing my sex act would not be that big of a deal. Plus, in my mind, I always made love to a woman as another woman anyhow.

As I write about often, as I transitioned, men for the most part left me alone for any number of reasons. I always felt the primary one was they knew I was transgender and had left the men’s club for good and they did not trust me with their own frail male sexuality. Or maybe I should say, trust themselves. One way or another, I immediately felt as if ciswomen accepted me quicker and I had never had so much female attention in my life. I loved it, as I was able to learn about their world while they were curious about mine. I even went as far as Amy telling me to buy bananas to start practicing what I would do with a man. I never did go that far except for the one big burly, biker of a man I met coming off of his wedding debacle rebound in a regular venue I went to.

I also knew his wife who was a beautiful exotic dancer and I could not figure out the attraction except for looks. It turns out that I was right and the marriage only lasted one week and I felt so sorry for him while at the same time, the people around him were making fun of him. Instead of taking the easy way out this time, I was the only one to lend a sympathetic ear to his problems. In a short while, he began to look for me (and vice versa) when we were at the venue because I was normally alone. Looking back, I wonder what would have happened if I had shown more curiosity about his Harley and would it have led to taking a ride with him. All I know is that I never did and he ended up taking a new job out of town and any possibility of me going any farther with a man sexually with him. From then on, it was back to women.

By women, I meant back to my new inroad into the lesbian culture and community which started when I began to frequent several small lesbian venues in the Dayton, Ohio area. Initially, I was just looking for a friendly place for companionship with other women. Out of the three venues I went to, I discovered they were all different in how I was treated. One of them hated me and did everything they could to keep me out of there, one was neutral and did not seem to care at all, and one was very friendly and welcomed my business. I even learned the bartender I saw several times was a customer in my restaurant with her friend. Her acceptance paved my way for several eye-opening experiences for me in the venue with other lesbians. Before I did, I needed to learn the social levels that other lesbians operated at. Everybody from super butch masculine women to more feminine lipstick lesbians who I more closely identified with. Along the way, I was hit on several times including the time I was forced to sing karaoke with a cowboy hat wearing super butch who wondered why my voice was lower than hers and another night when another butch told me she should take me home with her. Both were eye opening experiences.

What my dealings with the lesbian culture really taught me was that I did not need a man to validate my existence as a woman and there were many lesbians who might walk that fine line sexually to be with a man who was quite different than anyone they had ever known. It was my wife of over a decade now who decided to cross her lesbian leanings and attempt to build a relationship with a transgender woman. After a long courtship, I decided to throw caution to the wind and sell my house and move to Cincinnati to live with Liz. The deciding factor was she had briefly known my old male self and had completely rejected him. Telling me she had never seen any male in me at all.

With that major decision behind me, I was encouraged to proceed with HRT and give all my male belongings to thrift stores and live fulltime with Liz as a transgender woman. It was the biggest seismic change in life I could have ever made. Maybe I was taking the easy way out by never learning if I could live with a man because they were exceedingly hard to find. Ciswomen were not, I was enjoying myself and learning at the same time how I could reach my dream of living as a transfeminine person, so I never looked back. My world settled down, and I learned to live without all the seismic gender changes I went through.

 My path was never easy, but I ended up with a wonderful knowledge of the two basic binary genders.   

Transgender Game Changers

 

Image from Andre Fonseca
on UnSplash.

One of the positives to being able to live a long life is to be able to look back on all the key moments in my life when a decision one way or another could have made a huge difference in my life.

Perhaps the biggest moment was when I discovered the enchantment of looking at the pretty girl in the mirror where my boy self was just standing. Sadly, the moments were fleeting as my life was calling me.

As I grew up and my life became more complex, so did my dealings with my transgender issues. One of the most important lessons I learned came early when my second wife and I encountered a handsome Harley motorcycle rider at a tavern we were at one day in Cleveland, Ohio waiting for a transvestite mixer we were going to, to start. I was very new  to being out in the world as a cross dresser and was completely surprised at my reactions when this guy came into the bar and started flirting with my wife. Then, I was even more concerned about my wife when she started to flirt back, completely ignoring me. What was I going to do since I was stripped of all my male reflexes of what to do when another man was flirting with my wife. I had to just sit there and be quiet and hope she did not go for a ride on the Harley with the man. Of course, my wife sensed my concern but let the situation play itself out to teach me a lesson in feminine competition. One I never forgot.

Another evening, I never forgot and could have been a bigger game changer than it was, was the night I had my makeup done by a professional makeup artist in Columbus, Ohio at another transvestite-transgender mixer I was attending. After the makeover, I was stunned at all the positive changes the artist made for me. I was flattered with all the compliments I was receiving and decided I did not want the evening to end early. I wanted to join the so called “A” listers who always went out on the town and show off my new look. Plus, for some reason, my wife decided not to go to this mixer, so I was free and on my own. We ended the evening at another tavern which I could not tell was LGBTQ friendly or not but one way or another I bought a beer and headed for one of the unoccupied pinball machines. When I did, amazingly I was approached by a younger good-looking man who wanted me to stay and play pinball with him. By this time, the rest of the “A” girls were ready to leave, and I needed to make a split-second decision on if to stay or go. Since I had no idea if the man knew my true gender or not, and I was in a strange city, I decided to go with the “A”’s who were jealous of me because I was approached by a man and they were not.

I never knew what would have happened if I had stayed and would the evening change my life forever, which also happened the night I went on a date with Bob. By this time, my wife had passed away, and I had not met Liz yet (my future wife) so I was free to explore my own boundaries. Bob was not from my area of the country and on occasion passed through the Dayton, Ohio area on business where I lived. On one of those nights, I knew he wanted to meet me in person at one of the venues I was a regular at. I had never partied with a man at a sports bar before, so I did not know what to expect. What I did not expect was the great time I had. It was the first time in my life that I had been treated completely as a woman, and I loved it. It was even a karaoke night, and he sang for me. And yes, Bob did know I was transgender. We shared a rather passionate kiss together and the night was over. Never to be repeated again.

There were other trans game changers such as girl’s nights outs and the conversations I shared with a man who I thought I could have gone farther with if he had stayed around. The “what if’s” remain big questions for me as I grow older, and I know you can’t have it all. In many ways I crammed a lot of life into my years which I am grateful for.

I should not be selfish though because I have been blessed during my life with people who have loved me, and I did my best to love back in return. Sadly, my gender issues were in my way through most of them and if I had faced reality, I could have been a better transfeminine person. Which is a topic for another blog post altogether.

 

 

Tiny Ripples of Gender Hope

Image from Rosie Kerr on UnSplash.

During the overwhelming sense of darkness I felt when I began to come out of my gender shell, were moments of gender hope and euphoria. More than anything else, they kept me moving slowly towards living my ultimate dream. All I could think of was the possibility of living as a woman later in life.

Having to run and hide my small “collection” of feminine clothes and makeup every time I tried to get in front of the mirror and cross dress did not help. I resented the fact I could not be free to do what I wanted, no matter how radical it was…like being a girl. I could not imagine the pain and suffering I would have if I was caught. What saved me was the vision of a pretty young girl which came peeking on through when I was able to be alone and try on my precious clothes. Even though I was depressed I had to go back to being a boy, the brief moment of femininity carried me through the dark days and gave me a ripple of hope.

Fast forward through the difficult days of puberty and adolescence everyone goes through, I needed to deal with my gender dysphoria also. There were so many dark days when I just went through the motions of life that I did not know what was going to become of me. When I did, I desperately needed to find refuge behind my dresses and makeup to give me hope. Perhaps the only good thing which was happening was that I was slowly perfecting my use of makeup. When all my friends were showing off their painted model cars, I was stuck not being able to show off my new eye makeup. I had to internalize my feelings of hope and euphoria when I saw my new pretty eyes. Sadly, I needed to become good at removing all traces of the makeup so my brother and parents would not notice.

I guess you could say I was in the dark through my college years and beyond until I began to be able to enter the world for the first time as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. These were the days of attending transvestite mixers and small parties in nearby Columbus, Ohio. Being around like minded people who were searching for their gender answers almost made my search seem normal for the first time in my life. I was so protected from the world in the pre-internet days that I thought I was the only one like me stuck in their own personal hell. I was experiencing ripples of hope for the first time in my life on a scale I could appreciate. I even upped my appearance game when I went to Columbus from trashy woman to hopefully a passable ciswoman. One of my favorite outfits to wear was what I called my knit black out. I paired a loose fitting black wide knit top with a black leotard, shorts, tights with a pair of black flats and my red wig and was ready to go. After makeup of course.

For me, the whole outfit helped me to tone down and refine my look and it worked so well that I had my first ever encounter with a lesbian from the party when we left and went to a big lesbian venue for a break. I learned many valuable lessons that night which provided me with ripples of hope for the future. Mainly, if I could not be as feminine or beautiful as the transsexuals who were there, I still could be attractive myself to have a good time and most importantly, learn to be just me. Developing the future, me gave me real hope for the future as I learned it would be possible to achieve my transgender dreams if I worked hard enough. I had to learn the new transfeminine me meant so much more than the ripples of hope I had gained in the past went way past how I looked and into how I acted.

Suddenly, acceptance became my main goal, as my interior feminine self-stepped forward in my life. I knew who I wanted to be but still was not quite sure how to get there. For example, I knew for sure I did not want to be like the “Trans Nazi’s” as we called them or the bitchy trans women who thought they were better than anyone else simply because of their appearance or the number of gender surgeries they had undertaken. I suppose I should owe them a debt of gratitude for showing me what not to do to be a gracious, friendly transgender woman.

All of this came together for me when I began HRT or gender affirming hormones when I was sixty. I had spent enough life in the dark to appreciate the light and grasp a ripple of hope when I saw it. The hormonal medications proved to be a natural success when I began taking them. My body seemed to be saying again what took you so long. But on many levels I don’t think even I understood the basic limits I went through back in those days to salvage my life through the brief ripple of hope I received way back in the days when I lived for the mirror.

More importantly, I found myself in a situation where I could pay forward my experiences to helpfully help others. Especially those of you who are struggling to find answers on how to escape your dark gender closets and find your own ripple of hope. 

The Rise of Transfeminine Privilege

 

JJ Hart (Middle) wife Liz (Left)
daughter (Right)

When I began to seriously leave my closet and mirror and attempt to join the world as my true self, I quickly lost all my male privileges and gained very few feminine ones. In fact, early on, the only privilege I felt was having doors opened for me by the men around me.

On the other hand, the most extensive male privileges I lost were my intelligence and my personal security. When I was around men, I learned to keep my mouth shut until I was spoken to, which was not very often because I think most all men knew I was transgender and wanted no part of me. And as far as personal security went, I needed to learn what ciswomen know from an early age to keep themselves out of possible bodily danger by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

All along, during this time, I was wondering when and if the gender teeter-totter I was on would balance itself out and I would see the positives of what I was doing. It took a combination of things happening before I ever did. One was seasonal around Christmas, and the other one was when I decided to give up on men all-together and concentrate on knowing other women. A preferred topic in my mind, since I did not have to consider changing the focus of my sexuality, which had always leaned exclusively towards women. But I digress, the meaning of Christmas and what it meant to me as a transgender woman, is the real reason for this post.

To begin with, Christmas was always a major holiday for me and my second wife especially. Finding an exceptional, unexpected, rare gift was always the priority for me and even my brother’s family. The difference became to me was when I decided the Christmas shopping, I had been doing as a man would be much better accomplished as a woman. If I was able to pull it off, I could accomplish so much more during the Christmas rush I was in the middle of.

First of all, I needed to up my crossdressing game to give me the best possible chance to succeed in my shopping conquests. I went through my closet and pulled out my fancy, sleek, black pants’ suit for trips to upscale malls and my leggings, boots and sweaters when I combed through the huge local antique malls for just the right gift for my wife. I knew if I was to succeed, I had to be better than the average Ciswoman so I would not be potentially embarrassed. Also, the right makeup and hair was a priority because of all the up close and personal time I would be spending in the public’s eye. Through it all, I wondered where the magical feminine privilege would kick in for me.

The first major time it did was when I was shopping for a matching oak bookcase for my wife’s roll-top desk. One night, I found one which worked beautifully in an oak furniture store in nearby Columbus, Ohio. It just so happened I was returning from a shopping trip to a local Columbus upscale mall when I stopped into the store on the way home. After I found the bookcase I wanted, my old male self-wondered how in the world would I get it in my truck/SUV. Would anyone come to the aid of a tall blond in a black pants suit and heels? After I paid, I found out they would because for the first time in my life I was able to sit back and watch two young men load the bookcase carefully into my vehicle and finished their job off with a nice thank you mam. Because I had finally discovered a dose of feminine privilege, the half hour trip home went quickly, and I wanted to do more shopping, but I was out of time and money.

Sadly, once I returned home and had safely unloaded my prize gift, it was time to return to the place I did not want to be…my old male self. On the plus side though, the whole experience taught me (and provided the confidence) to move forward to my dream life of being a fulltime transgender woman and would not have to return home every night in a hurry to switch back into a gender I wanted nothing to do with. My feminine privilege was being established in the newfound senses I was feeling. Especially when I was doing something for others, such as buying gifts.

The experience made all the learning and trial and error experiences I went through during my male to female femininization process deeply worthwhile. There were other Christmas stories to share as I will do later. Such as when my wife decided we would have a special gift giving time for my feminine self.

 

 

 

 

Transgender S.O.S.

Image from Micheal Held
on UnSplash.

What a mistake it is when a “civilian” says transgender women and transgender men have a choice when they decide to live a life they were destined for.

By destined, I mean ultimately, we had no choice but to transition and any attempts to stop it were going to be futile. Those of us who were forced into the male box at birth unfortunately learned the male way to deal with emotions and difficult circumstances, we just internalized them. Hoping they would just go away. I know with me, in my family, internalization was taught from a very young age. It was impossible to relay any sort of gender S.O.S. to anyone who had a remote idea of how to help me. Back in those days, gender dysphoria was treated as a mental disorder and at the least, I knew enough to know I was not mentally ill. I just wanted to be a girl.

What I did then was try to run and hide and attempt to be hyper masculine in everything I did which worked for years. But the damage from doing it was extensive, and my mental health suffered from the pressure of trying to be both binary genders. It became a balancing act which was impossible to put down.

Along the way, with urging from my second wife, I sought therapy to save our marriage. To do so, I found a therapist who advertised as a gender specialist in Columbus, Ohio. She was one of the first and I found her ad in a LGBTQ publication I was reading and decided to give her a try. After several sessions, she told me the truth which I only listened to part of. She said I was Bi-Polar which explained all the severe depression and ups and downs I had been experiencing. It turned out that it was the easy diagnosis she gave me because the second part involved my gender dysphoria. One session, she flat out told me there was nothing she or even me could ever do anything about wanting to be a woman. Somehow, I would have to learn to live with it or act on my desires. Her words shocked me and at that time of my life, I was still searching for my gender truth and was not ready to give up on maintaining all the comfortable male privileges I had worked so hard for.

My answer at the time was to go back to internalizing what she told me because there was no way I was going to tell my wife. Who then would have considered the entire use of therapy to be a waste. Since in many ways, I was just refusing to look at my true self in the mirror, I discontinued therapy and went on with my life. Even though my mirror was telling me I was a man, my mind had other ideas, and I still had no one to send a S.O.S to because on occasion, I felt as if I was sinking fast. I was fortunate that my new anti-depression meds worked well enough to keep my everyday moods stable which left me the gender problems to deal with on their own.

It took me years to finally figure out the gender problems were not going away no matter how much I tried to internalize them. In desperation I tried to start going out in public and attempt to interact with the world as a woman, transgender or not. My S.O.S. to the public was I was not trying to fool anyone into thinking I was a ciswoman, I meant no harm, and I was just trying to be me for once in my life with no internalizing. I can’t say it was always easy and I survived a suicide attempt when I felt I was cheating on my wife (with myself) but I made it through alive.

The best part was when I began to build a new transfeminine life completely away from the man I used to be. Ironically though, my internalization was still there but just reversed. No longer was I trying to hide the reality of my femininity, now I was trying to hide any of my old male self-slipping through and re-ruining my life I was trying to build.

The entire path I was on took me head on to the realization that no matter what the mirror was telling me in the morning, I could work past him and for once face the world as my true, authentic self. I did not have to send out any more S.O.S. pleas that went unanswered or internalized anything. I faced myself and was free to live.

To hell with never having a choice of which gender was right for me, and to hell is where I almost went thinking I was not man enough to be a woman. I had the choice all along no matter what society told me. I was just afraid to do it.

 

  

If Your House of Cards is Broken, What Then

 

Image from Nik Korba on UnSplash.

If your house of cards is falling, what then?  Is something many transgender women and transgender men face as they transition to the gender of their choice.

The problem is, we hide our flaws so well over the years that many of the friends and family we associate with never had a chance to see the true selves we are internalizing. In my case, I knew very early on I had deep flaws that eventually I would have to adjust to. Somehow, I carried the misconception that age would solve all my gender problems which I hoped magically would just disappear. In the meantime, I set out to build a stable male existence on a house of cards.

The longer I built my house of cards, the harder it became to rationalize tearing it all down and starting over. As I started my path towards achieving my dream of living my life as a transgender woman. What I ended up doing was, trying to explore the world in stages as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman, to see if I had any chance of making it at all. Very early on, I had my doubts as my futile attempts to blend in with the world were met with scorn. I knew without a shadow of a doubt what I was doing was breaking my male and female self and I needed to discover ways to fix it.

It was then I began to shove my male ego aside and begin dressing for the segment of the population I wanted to blend in with, cisgender women. I began to re-study all I had ever thought of women as a whole and started to fix the way I was trying to look. I was certainly not making it as a teen girl dressed to thrill and settled in on a more mature scaled back look I could handle with my testosterone poisoned body. I immediately began to see dividends as I started to successfully blend in with the world.

The problem I discovered was I was beginning to be too successful in my exploration. Suddenly I realized I was not a casual weekend cross dresser at all. I fit in with the new up and coming term transgender almost perfectly and I began to change my mindset from thinking I was a man trying to be a woman to I was actually a woman trying my best to be a strong, successful man. When I discovered this, my life in some ways changed for the best, but in other ways turned out to be problematic. It was easy to accept my changes, but it was hard to decide what to do about them because of the seismic problems they caused. My house of cards was shaking and becoming broken, and I did not know (or want to face what I needed to do about it.)

To attempt to hold my broken world together, I kept trying to apply the strongest male glue available. All I ended up doing was hurting my mental health more in the process of trying to save myself. All the ripping and tearing of my gender dysphoria was literally killing me. Finally forcing me into action to save myself. As I struggled, I continued on my not so merry way, exploring what it would really mean to me if my house of cards collapsed and I had to fix it. The only thing I had going for me was all the experiences I had built up as a transfeminine person in my life. So, I did not have to start from ground zero when I decided to go after my male to female transition for the final time. I was secure in my feminine appearance and communication skills, and I had major hurdles behind me. Then all I needed to learn was what would happen when I lost all of my male privileges which were a major part of my house of cards. In many ways, losing things such as my security and intelligence as a trans woman were breaking all the remaining chains I had to my old male life.

The bottom line was I took a male life that was not broken and broke it anyhow. Giving up nearly everything I knew as a man. Gender affirming hormones or HRT put the finishing touches on everything I had ever known and shifted my knowledge of gender privileges to the feminine side of the gender spectrum. As my testosterone decreased and my estrogen level increased, I was free to build a new life. Which for once was not broken or flawed. No more house of cards for me, nothing was broken.

 

 

Transgender Dreams

 

Image from Felipe Delgado
on UnSplash

Obviously, we transgender women and transgender men do a lot of dreaming when it comes to the ultimate results of our lives. For example, when I was very young, I could never speak truthfully when an adult asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Saying I wanted to be a woman would have never been acceptable and would have rewarded me with a visit to a psychiatrist. So, I said something more acceptable such as a lawyer or a veterinarian.

I had to save my ultimate desires to be feminine for my dream world and often went to sleep thinking of how it would be if I could wake up as a pretty girl. Of course, I was never able to take advantage of such a thing happening to me and I needed to make the best of what I had to work with. Which was about ready to radically change for the worse when I went through male puberty. As I started my growth spurt, I rapidly outgrew all my mom’s clothes I had tried to squeeze into and had to rely on my meager allowance added to my newspaper route delivery money to try to sneak out to stores and buy my own clothes and makeup.

Through this portion of my life, my mirror was my friend and helped me to bring dreams of being a pretty girl to life, no matter how I really looked. It wasn’t until I began to experience the public’s reaction to me did, I finally get a fair and accurate reaction to how I really looked. I desperately dreamed of being more than a clown in drag. After tons of work and trial and error experiences, I finally made it to where the public at least knew I was being serious about achieving my dream of being a woman. Little did I know, the real work I would need to do to achieve my dream was about to begin.

The more I explored the world as a novice transgender woman, the more I found I had to do to survive in the new exciting feminine world I had dreamed of being a part of. When I was in the public’s eye, I found I attracted the attention of ciswomen as never before and as I did, I needed to get radical and do things such as talk to them. Initially, I was very shy and completely unprepared to take such a big step, but I was way past the point of ever turning back. For the first time in my life, my dream appeared to be within reach, if I kept learning what my new world meant.

I found I was stuck in some sort of a gender never-never land. Ciswomen instinctively knew I was not Cis but on the other hand, wanted to be in their world. Fortunately, I found most of them let me into their worlds and showed me a path to being successful, if they knew it or not. I did not care how I received the help and guidance; I was just trying to achieve my dream of living as a successful transgender woman. As I tried to point out in yesterday’s post, I went past the point of trying to be trans all the way to just being me. Which I think the women around me accepted because of my honesty. By now, you may be thinking what about the men around me? For the most part, they left me alone. Which was fine by me. I wanted out of their club and wanted nothing to do with going back if I had anything to do with it. I was successful and never did. My dream increasingly appeared to be reachable, and destiny opened her doors for more success for me. Primarily when it came for time to consider going down the path of gender affirming hormones or HRT.

I knew first, I needed to find a doctor to approve taking the hormones and I found one in one of the Dayton, Ohio LGBTQ publications. He had openings and I was able to get in for a checkup and then receive my precious prescriptions for initial minimum dosages for estradiol and spiro to get started on a new path towards achieving my dream as never before. After I began the minimum dosages, I had no adverse reactions and in fact the opposite was true. I felt as if I should have been on the meds for my entire life. They made me feel so good.

By this time, I felt as if I was living proof that transgender dreams come true if you pay your dues such as I did. The dues I paid were certainly the best investment I ever made.