Reality

JJ Hart, middle, with Min and Kathy

 It took me years of denying my true gender identity to finally face the reality of who I was really was.

To do so, I needed to transition more than once to my surprise. I was naive and thought when I just put on a dress and makeup I was done transitioning. When in truth, I was only beginning my gender path. Deep down I knew there was something deeply wrong with how I viewed the world in all ways. Did I view it as male or a female. The only fact I did know was I was completely alone with my gender issues. There was no one else to talk to. 

Reality was a dark closet with no doors I could escape from. My only outlet was admiring my image in the family mirror growing up. I even went to the extent of taking on a rural newspaper route to add to my meager allowance to buy my own makeup and panty hose. By doing so, I could stay out of my mom's makeup and stop risking the possibility of snagging or running her hose. If you remember the panty hose which came in an plastic egg, I was a huge fan. The difference between just dressing in the clothes I found or bought was growing huge. No matter how much I cross dressed and admired myself in the mirror, the reality was, it was just never enough. Whatever I was doing, I could do it better. 

One of my biggest problems or dreams was to have my own glamorous wig. I grew up in the era of crew cuts or shorter hair for boys so there was nothing I could do to style what hair I had into anything resembling a feminine style. I was caught for many years, college in fact, before I could manage to sneak around and buy myself a wig I loved. It was long and blond, and I cherished it. I viewed the wig as one of the final pieces of my cross dressing puzzle. Maybe then, I could actually try to enter the world as who I was actually beginning to perceive as my authentic or true self. Little did I know, I was just spreading the seeds of my gender future.

The reality was, suddenly I was realizing I was following a life's path I wanted to be on. Each time I attempted to jump off of it, by purging all my feminine possessions. When I did, I could barely live with myself and could not wait to return to the protective confines of my transgender womanhood. Even though the path was bumpy and often threatening, the alternative of going back was even worse. The path allowed me to enter an oasis from life for me to judge where I was and where I wanted to go. As I always say, I was careful and took my time because I had so much to lose in my male life. I needed to make sure I was doing the right thing before I entered the world of women fulltime. 

Reality showed me the way; I finally put aside everything I had which screamed male and never looked back. As I said, the path I took was long and dark and I made my share of mistakes when I ran into the walls. The powder keg which was me needed to be de-fused so I could live a free life in a very pleasurable environment. I can't say the wait was worth it since I had no choice. I was stuck in a male world of my own making and did not have the courage to realize I had the power to break out and live my truth...or reality. 

She is With Me

 

Image from UnSplash.

It took me far too long to decide who was with whom in my life.

For the longest time, I thought I was a man cross dressing as a woman, but the opposite was true, I was a woman cross dressing as a man, and for the most part failing at accepting all my efforts. Through it all, my female side was pressing ahead for dominance in my life. It was difficult because my male self was so situated in the life he had created, he did not want to give any of it up. After all, white male privilege was so difficult for me to establish, then give up. He certainly was not giving up without a protest. 

To make matters worse, I was always painfully shy around girls and women, so my workbook on women was pretty much blank when I needed it. Many times, it seemed I was flailing in the dark when I first attempted to open my gender closet door and sneak out. What I began to do, very slowly, was piece together a set of positive public experiences I was putting together from my new life as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. Once I did, I was increasingly proud to say, she is with me. 

Little did I know, at that point I would have to take my new femininized life one step at a time. Naturally, my earliest steps were scary. Except the ones when I went to local regional mixers in Columbus, Ohio at a transexual friend's house. There I learned a few of the different layers of transition I could expect to follow. If I decided to follow the path some of the attendees were on. The research was important because my whole life was in the balance. I had a wife, family and a great job to worry about. Plus, I met all sorts of new and different people under the LGBTQ spectrum, from lesbians to cross dresser admirers, I saw it all.

The whole process made a huge difference in my life. Finally, my old male self was seeing the end of his dominance in my life and regardless of the warnings he gave me that I was going to lose it all. Even though I was having the time of my life, I was still scared of the ultimate outcome, or how I wanted to live for the rest of my life. I was in much deeper than ever before and deep down I knew just throwing on a dress and wig was not ever going to be enough. I kept going back to to my formative cross-dressing years when I realized I wanted to do more than wanting to look like a girl, I wanted to be a girl. It was to start me on a lifetime of learning what transgender womanhood was all about.

The journey was a long one for me as it started with no external gender information available to me in the dark information days before the internet. It continued with meeting and learning from all sorts of women from very supportive lesbians to unsupportive cisgender women. The message began to come through loud and clear; she is with me and had always been so.

Second Chances

Image from Mitch on UnSplash.

 
Very early in my final transition from male to female life, my wife Liz told me to make the most of it because very few human beings ever get the chance to stop their lives and start all over.

Her comment made me feel better and yet scared me more as I stared over the gender cliff I was looking at into what I perceived as my dream life. No matter how much time and effort I put into the final preparation into transgender womanhood, I still did not know the full extent of what I was facing. More precisely, I did not have any conception of the uphill battle I would be facing to leave my old male self behind. Once I was behind the feminine gender curtain on a regular basis, I discovered how much further I needed to go to be successful. 

 Following several (many) well documented mistakes in my presentation, I was able to successfully femininize my external male body to a point where I could blend in with other women in the world on a regular basis. I say external presentation, because my internal idea of who I was still presented a problem. It really wasn't until I began to take gender affirming hormones, did I feel as if my interior self was changing to match my exterior look. Very quickly, I began to feel differences to my emotions and for the first time in my life, I could cry tears of sorrow or joy. As the world around me changed, I could feel changes in temperature and even smell as my senses heightened.  Needless to say, I was amazed by the changes and so surprised as I waited for the next set of changes to set in. 

As with anything else in life, the gender changes I was feeling from the hormones began to slow down, and I began to settle into the new life I had made for myself. It all meant finding a new set of friends which I did who turned out to be a small group of lesbians who accepted me for what I was, a woman from a different path than them. When I did fit in, it meant my sexuality would not have to change to men which was successful for me and also meant I would not have to seek out a man to validate my existence. 

Once my new life got rolling, second chances did also. I was able to take an early retirement and live off selling most all of the vintage collectibles my second wife and I had purchased over the years. It all meant I did not have to worry about working another job where I would have to transition at. No second chances needed. 

Perhaps the most important realization I learned from my gender rebirth was, I did not need much direction. As suspected, my inner woman took over quickly and made all the difficult decisions such as moving in with and ultimately marrying my current wife, Liz. Between the two of them, I give all the credit for shaping me into transgender womanhood and making me into the person I am today. 

Was I Outdated?

 

My wife Liz. Key West Florida.

Along the way in my increasingly long life, I have considered myself to be outdated. 

As I grew up through the late fifties and the early to mid 60's, I went through my mom's fashions, all the way to the short mini skirted times when I was in middle school. By the time I had cross dressed my way in the mirror to a place where I could control it at all, the world of fashion had changed, and I was outdated for the first time. My miniskirts gave way to hippie boho fashion. I loved the long-haired hippie women around me.

By now you are probably thinking I was resistant to change or was simply ignoring the overall basics of women's fashion. The biggest basic is that fashion always changes. A woman is encouraged to go with the flow of fashion for a number of reasons, good or bad. As I see it, the good or fun aspect of fashion are the seasonal changes. I write occasionally about when the seasons do change here in Ohio, how satisfying it is for me to go through my wardrobe and judge what stays and what goes. It is at these times; I have to figure out if I am outdated or not and most importantly, does it still matter to me at my age. 

As I am sure you all know, as cisgender women age, they go through progressions especially involving their hair. Many start wearing the longer hair of their youth and as they age, the hair becomes shorter and shorter. It was the one age trend I resisted until I had quite a bit of my hair trimmed off at the end of last year before my wife Liz and I went on vacation. It turns out, I fit right in with the other women on the vacation tour we went on to the Florida Keys. 

Just fitting in, was something I never wanted to do. Preferably, as much as possible, I wanted to be on the cutting edge of fashion, if, it involved having a Boho lean. I never got over the admiration I had for the women during my college and military days when I was required to wear my hair short. I made up for the short buzz cuts I had to wear by wearing my hair longer than almost all other women during my senior years. 

If you are familiar with "Stana Short" on the famous Femulate blog, the short she is referring too is in regard to her length of hemlines on her famously long and shapely legs. I never had to face the skirt length dilemma following my love affair with miniskirts in my youth until the eighties I believe it was when they briefly returned. One of my favorite outfits I had was a black mini I wore with one of my fluffy long sweaters and a pair of flats when I went out shopping. It was one of the few times in my life as a transgender woman that my fashion matched the majority of what cisgender women were wearing.

These days, at the age of seventy-five, I am happy to be able to stay active and mobile at all. Sometimes I think my favorite colorful leggings make me outdated in my fashion, but I love them and that is all that matters. I suppose too, I am allowed to be outdated. 

Opening Your Eyes

 

Image from Jesper Brouwers
on UnSplash.

I found I needed to be careful as I tried to negotiate a difficult gender path to transgender womanhood. 

Most likely, my eyes were open for the first time when I explored my mom's wardrobe for clothes and makeup I could try and see myself in the family's full length hallway mirror. When I saw myself, my eyes somehow were opened, and I knew I could never go back. Being a so-called normal boy was not going to cut it. 

From my humble beginnings, a small fire within me grew to a point where I knew I could never turn back from at least trying to set feminine goals and living up to them. The problem was, I had no workbook to rely on when the going got rough. I had no girls sleep overs to go to, or a mom to council me on my appearance. It came down to my relying on the mirror to tell me everything I needed to know about my femininized life, and it turned out the mirror could easily lie to me. It would tell me I was pretty, when in fact, I looked like a clown.

Following being rudely rejected by the public, my eyes were finally opened to the fact I needed to make changes in what I was doing if I was ever to survive. Soon I was haunting every nearby thrift store I could find for just the right feminine wardrobe items to add to my closet. It took a while, but I began to turn the corner and began to work my public presentation to a point where I could blend in with the cisgender women around me. My only real problem came when I did not have the finances to purchase the rare item, I thought I needed in the worst way. An example I still remember was a full-length wool powder blue coat I found at a discount coat store. It was in my size, went with my blond wig and I desperately wanted it. Long story short, no matter how many times I went back to the store and admired myself in the mirror, there was simply no way I could buy it. The main problem outside of affording it, was where would I hide it from my wife when I got it home. I needed to give up and move on to a cheaper alternative to keep out the Ohio cold. 

My eyes were really opened when I was allowed behind a rather formidable feminine curtain which women use to protect themselves from men. First of all, I needed to earn my way into their inclusive club by proving I was much more than a casual observer of women and most of all, not another drag queen. Step by step as I earned my way into a new and exciting gender world, I knew I was making the right move away from a male life. Mainly because I felt so natural in my experiences I was having. I cannot say my life was easy back in those days because I was stuck between two genders but on the other hand, each time I reached a new point of success, then I could not ever turn back. Again, because I was feeling I was headed in the right direction. 

Another problem I had during my journey was making sure my vision was correct. It was easy to have 20/20 vision when I was looking at myself in the mirror, but much harder when I was having a conversation with a strange woman. I was burnt many times when my vision of what was going to happen was blurred. 

Each time my eyes were opened, deep down I knew I could never go back. 

A Destination or a Journey?

JJ Hart

 Early on when I was stuck in my dark gender closet, I viewed myself on a way to a destination, not much different than a vacation from my male self. 

Then, when I began to experience more "vacations" than I could handle, I began to notice I was on more of a journey than I thought. Looking back, I was missing all of the signs I was much more than a part time crossdresser, pursuing a harmless hobby. The difference always was I wanted to do more than look like a girl, I wanted to be a girl. Needless to say, I spent many hours of my spare time wondering what my true problem was. Time, I wished I could have back. 

Instead of getting any of the time back, I invested it in my femininized appearance in the mirror, and I still thought I was on some sort of a mysterious journey no one else knew anything about. It would be years before I was able to attend transvestite mixers to meet other likeminded people who I thought were on the same path as I. Imagine my shock when I found out I had waited so long to find out I did not fit in well with almost all of the others who were attending the mixer. Somehow, I just still felt different. Probably because most of the attendees viewed themselves as men in dresses and my views of my gender self were just beginning to form and they were so much deeper than thinking I was a man in a dress. 

It was about this time, I realized I was on more of a journey when I began to know transsexual women who were making the ultimate gender step in their life, gender realignment surgery to be exact. I was very intrigued by the idea and deep down I wondered if that was the journey I was headed on. The problem was I was stuck where I was in my male life and was not prepared like my friends were to make such a serious move. To be sure, gender surgery would certainly be a journey for me as I had quite the complex male life I was living and to be truthful, on occasion, I did enjoy the white male privilege I had earned. 

All I ended up doing on my journey was screwing up my mental health. Simply, the stress of juggling two of the binary genders became too much and I was very self-destructive. It was then I knew, my gender path was so much more than just a destination and I really needed to step up my game if I was going to survive. It was decision time. Either I went forward as a transgender woman or retreated back into my male world. 

The deciding factor was I felt so natural as a trans woman, so I did not stop my journey until I made it to a point where I could save my mental health and even my life. Certainly, even though I had reached many destinations along the way, my life turned out to be a gender journey which at times was touch and go. I ended up not going and stayed the course to my own form of transgender womanhood and was a better person for it. 

Karma?

 

JJ Hart with Liz on left and daughter
on right.

Last night, my wife Liz, her son and I went out to eat at our favorite restaurant. 

We have been to the venue many times without any of the staff misgendering me. Spoiler alert. My record of not being misgendered would go out the window last night. Per norm, the venue was busy, and no one paid me any attention as we were led to our seat. So, outside of a few screaming kids, I was feeling pretty good about my experience. For the evening, I chose my new Jimmy Buffet "Margaritaville" T shirt I bought in Key West and paired it with my favorite leggings. After a close shave and a foundation coat with lip stick, I was ready to go and enjoy a margarita. 

As I said, I was feeling relaxed until we ordered, and here it came out of nowhere, the dreaded "S" word. You guessed it, the waiter called me sir. I was devasted and shocked at being called sir for the first time there ever. Then I began to wonder what went wrong, then I remembered a couple things I did wrong which could have contributed to being misgendered. The one obvious one was how I was presenting myself. Maybe the Buffett T-shirt I was wearing was a little too casual and I had not prepared my arms for a bare excursion into the world. Normally, I still need to shave my arms which I did not. So, my preparation laziness cost me.

The next point is where karma came into play. Today, we were supposed to go north to Dayton, Ohio for a Passover Seder reception at my daughter's mother-in-law. Sadly, severe storms are forecast for today in the area, so we decided not to make the rather lengthy trip. When I emailed my daughter to tell her the bad news, I asked how my trans grandchild who uses the "they and them" pronouns was doing and did they still have a job waiting for them this fall after they are done walking the Appalachian Trail. It turns out, they reached the two-hundred-mile point. 

Now what did I do wrong? As I was emailing my daughter, I thought I was being careful on which pronouns to use. Along the way (dammit) I slipped up and used the forbidden "her" word and ignorantly sent the message before I checked the entire message. Of course, then it was too late, and the message was sent. 

Now I feel as if karma got even with me later that evening when the waiter misgendered me. In the future I will have to be better, and I should be the last one in the family who should mess up their pronouns. When I do, karma should come around and slap me. 

One way or another, I need to do better where my presentation is concerned, and most certainly do better with my grandchild's pronouns. And, by the way, they still have a job as a civilian with the US Navy nuclear program in Maine. The gender haters in the orange felon's administration have not discovered them yet and I hope they never will. 

In the meantime, I am a firm believer in good karma and will work harder to make sure I pay my life forward the best I can to pay it forward to help others and not screw up my grandchild's pronoun's.  

Forever Dancing

 

Image from Alexa Posteraro
on UnSplash.

During my long gender journey, I often thought there were times when I had finished my trip and made it to my goal of transgender womanhood.

It was during those occasions when life laughed at me and said I better begin dancing once again. As always, I was a terrible dancer and needed to try harder than the average woman to succeed. If I did not, I knew I would never make it.

Earlier in my journey, I thought I was doing enough dancing to get myself by and then hit a solid gender wall when I failed. Any gender euphoria was very brief and fleeting as I went out in public as a novice transgender woman for the first time. On too many occasions, I needed to hurry home in tears after being laughed at (or worse) by the public. Fortunately, I was somehow able to pick myself up and get back to dancing the best I could in my gender game. At whatever cost I needed to do, my first priority was to improve my overall femininized presentation. 

I started by losing weight. In fact, I shed nearly fifty pounds which enabled me to better fit into a wider and more fashionable style of women's clothing than I ever had before. From there, I began to work more diligently on my skin. So, I could wear less makeup. Then I added better wigs to my dance list and finally began to notice a difference in how I was perceived in the world as a transgender woman. By that time, I thought I was ready to dance but I was far from it. All I had really done was carefully craft a feminine image which I needed to put into motion. 

As I continued to enter the world as a transgender woman, many times, the world pushed back at me. I had problems with how I moved and how I communicated with the public before I could ultimately relax and really learn to dance. As I tried and tried to improve myself, most of the push back came from my second wife and my old male self. Both of whom had stakes in my success or failure in my new world. I have written often of the times when my wife rightfully said I made a terrible woman. Mainly because I was still putting my woman together and was making mistakes. At that point, I did not have the lived experiences as a trans woman to do better and anytime she caught me out of our agreement to explore the world, all hell would break lose. Afterall, she understood more than I did how she was losing my male self to another woman. Who happened to be me.

Once I broke through and decided transgender womanhood was the only dance for me, I began to do better. Physically, I never made it to being a better dancer, but mentally I did. Primarily because I needed to survive in the feminine world or sandbox, I chose. By nature, I found cisgender women operate on a whole different level than men. Which I already knew of course but not to the point of survival I found myself in the midst of. To oversimplify, men came at me from at the most two angles, and women from many more. I was ambushed by several passive aggressive women on many occasions before I learned to protect myself from perceived lesser threats. 

To this day, I am still dancing. Primarily because it is what it takes to be a transgender woman in todays' world. Plus, I would be remiss if I did not mention the small group of women friends, I had who were instrumental in helping me with my dancing lessons.   

Transgender Dreams

 

Image from Alex Azabache 
on UnSplash.

My last question from my transgender grandchild for my yearlong book of questions I am putting together went something like this: If I had it all to do over again, what would I tell my twenty-year-old self about life.

First of all, before I answer, the questions come from a site called "Story Worth", and at the end of a year, they put all the weekly questions together to form a book on your life. It was a gift from my daughter. I am more than three-quarters through it already with a chance to add more questions for a small amount of extra money.

Now, back to my twenty-year-old self. First of all, at that time, I was consumed by two issues. Being drafted into the military along with a strong desire to be a woman. Conflicting problems to be certain which I was having a very difficult time dealing with. In the tried and true if I had known then what I know now, I would not have spent so much time worrying about basic training and beyond. I learned as I went through basic, that after I got into shape, it was just a team building experience with military realities built in. I made it through much easier than I thought I would and then prepared myself to serve out the remainder of my three-year enlistment. To be honest, I did not join the Army because I wanted to, or I thought it would make me anymore of a man. I was drafted into the service because of the Vietnam War. 

If anything, my gender issues became stronger when I was away in the military, as I constantly day-dreamed any spare moment I had about when I would become a civilian again and be able to pursue my dream of being a woman. It was all I had to get me by. 

Little did I know at the age of twenty, how complex and difficult my gender journey would take me throughout my life. To put it into perspective, the Army only took three years away from me, while deciding to finally come out as a transgender woman, took me forty more. I am sure my twenty years old would have asked why it took me so long to face the reality of who I really was and quit making excuses. I kidded myself for years thinking I was strong and would have to admit to my twenty-year-old, I simply wasn't. 

I would also have to tell my young self to not be afraid to dream because without dreams to achieve, often we arrive nowhere. I would have never made it to my goal of transgender womanhood unless I dreamed of it all those years and took steps to finally make it. Regardless of all the self-destructive behavior I put myself through. You only have one life to live and should try to do the best you can to preserve it. 

I was fortunate to have lived long enough to see my life come full circle from that confused twenty-year-old I was. When I did, I was able to achieve transgender dreams I never thought possible.  Of course, none of us know our ultimate destinies, the least we can do is accomplish goals which lead us in the right direction.

If you are in your closet, thinking you are trapped like I was, just do your best to look for the opportunities you may have to escape. Later on in life, it all may come back to help you with your transgender dreams.

I Just Could not Do It

 

JJ Hart. Club Diversity, Columbus, Ohio.

Every once in a while, I see a guy, or a group of guys doing routine guy things and become rather envious of them.

I remember how hard I worked to arrive at a point of being a man to just fit in and think how easy it was for me to participate after I earned my white male privileges. Then, when my gender issues caught up to me, I needed to give all my male privilege up and make the sacrifice to lead a happy life as a transgender woman.

About that time, when I am observing the men, I talked about, I remember how miserable I was just playing the old repetitive male game I was stuck in, and I feel much better. Even to the point of feeling free. Perhaps, it is because I never should have forced myself to play the male games to start with. Being born into a male dominated family as the first son, locked me into serious expectations of who I was expected to be at all times and there could be hell to pay if I was not. Regardless of the pressure I put myself under, I did my best to succeed while all the time suspecting something was wrong with how I perceived my inner gender. 

I don't know what I thought about how I could live my life the way I was doing it, but somehow, I made it to the age of sixty before I could not take it anymore, and I transitioned into my version of transgender womanhood. I say my version, because I decided I did not need any serious gender realignment major surgeries to live life the way I wanted to. I basically took all the experience I had learned as a very serious cross dresser and decided I could live full time in a new and exciting world.

Before I paint myself out to be some sort of a courageous person, I wasn't. Destiny had led me through many bouts of self-destruction to be able to live to a point where I was healthy enough to begin gender affirming hormones and femininize my body. Inside and out, it all was quite the change. As excited as I was to experience all the changes, the fact was not lost on me that I was nearly old enough to retire early and start Social Security which took me away from any negative ideas about transitioning on a job. Old or new. 

All of a sudden, almost all of my major hurdles to transitioning were taken away, even to the point of the Veterans Administration approving HRT for its health care members. So, at the least, I would have to pay less for my femininizing meds. Even though, they were not free. 

One night, when I was again feeling sorry for myself because of my lifelong gender issues, I finally came to the conclusion I did not have to do it anymore. I was sure of the fact I did not want to live as a man any longer and had paid nearly all my dues not to do it anymore. 

Regardless of any remaining envy I felt as how easy it was for me to enjoy any male privileges I had gained over the years; it was not enough to keep going as a man. I just could not do it and survive. 

Building Gender Bridges

 

Image from Alexander Rotker 
on UnSplash.

I have always been one to build too many bridges to jump off of in my life. 

In fact, if I don't have anything to worry about, I will create something. Looking back, I was especially bad at building huge, tall bridges when I was at the height of my trip to transgender womanhood. I felt I was partially justified in doing so because of all the problems I experienced when I was coming out of my gender closet. 

Before I began my trip, I was a fairly freewheeling person. If something happened for me to take care of, I would and at the same time, not spend much time worrying about my future. Even though I still faced major problems in my life, I could still conquer them, or escape back behind my skirts, heels and hose to hide. As I progressed in my life, I found my time was running out as a parttime cross dresser. Either I needed to do more or purge myself altogether of a pastime which had kept me from jumping off so many bridges I had built. 

Another problem I discovered was when I began to be more skilled at building my gender bridges was becoming, I was increasingly under more pressure to be successful. The more success I felt as a transgender woman, the easier my life became except for the very serious bridges I faced such as communication with the world. 

The best time I have for building my bridges is late at night when I am trying to sleep. These days, I have plenty of things to worry about. In fact, next week, my wife Liz and I will be heading north to my daughters, mother in laws lunch. During that time, I hope to find out what has happened to my transgender grandchild job offer as a civilian nuclear engineer with the Navy in Maine. Hopefully they have been able to stay under the radar so far and has maintained the job which they wanted to start this fall. (They is their preferred pronoun.)

Going to see the family is always very affirming as I have been accepted for years as my authentic feminine self. Early on it was very difficult for me to adjust to because nearly everyone in the room had known me for years as my old male self. Others including my first wife, who is the mother of my only child usually always attends, and she has a difficult time sometimes not referring to me with the proper pronouns when recounting a few of the long-ago days when I was trying to live as a macho man. Plus, we also met each other while we both served in the Army in Germany. With all the extra baggage I carry when it comes to her, I think she has done a good job of building a new bridge to me over the years.

Now, at my advanced age of seventy-five, I find myself looking ahead at the biggest bridge of all. When it is time to enter a new reality when I pass on. I have decided to do the best I can with all the aches and pains I have and keep a positive attitude. Of course, there are other major bridges to think about also when and if I need to enter assisted living, which I am not looking forward to. Liz and I were supposed to attend a special seminar put on by an attorney specializing in "elder law", but Liz got sick, and we did not go. So sometime in my future, I need to insist we find an attorney to give us a consultation. 

In life, it seems, there are always bridges to build. It is just a special problem unique to gender conflicted transgender women and trans men. Overtime, we can become very good builders and even better at hiding our results. Fortunately, there are more and more trained therapists to help us these days. Ironically, some of us have to go through several therapists until we can find the proper fit. So, we can find someone who can build a solid bridge, rather than tear it all down. Which, if you are like me, you tried to do many times during various purges. 

Relax!

 

Image from Clem Onojeghuo
on UnSplash.

As transgender women or transgender men, often relaxation can be a key to our survival. The sad part is relaxation can be very difficult to come by. 

If you are like me, when you first discovered the pleasures of dressing in your mom's or sister's clothing, there was an extreme element of danger involved. If my secret was ever discovered, life as I knew it would be destroyed. With that hanging over my head, it was very hard to relax. Somehow, I thought as the years rushed by, I could relax as I enjoyed looking at myself in the mirror cross dressed as a girl, but I did not.

In fact, it got worse the more I ventured into the world for the first time as a self-proclaimed transgender woman. I was concentrating on making sure I was on point with my fashion, makeup and hair, I just could not relax on the reality of putting the appearance I achieved into moving as best I could as a woman. My best laid plans of presenting as an attractive woman could quickly be destroyed by moving like a linebacker when I walked. So, until I earned the confidence I needed to be out in the world, I just could not relax.

Ironically, I did get better at putting my feminized body into motion and was beginning to learn how to relax as a trans woman until an even bigger obstacle came my way. The set back came when I needed to begin to communicate with other women and men in the world. No longer could I go out preparing to be by myself, when so many people (mainly women) wanted to talk. I was caught in a new strange never-never land where I had never been before. I did not know what to do. If I was too chatty would other people, consider me too forward, and on the other hand, if I did not say enough, I would appear to be unfriendly and not approachable at all. Plus, on top of all of that, I was very paranoic in how my voice sounded to the public. 

At first, when I talked to another woman, I attempted to mimic her voice and do the best I could. Most importantly, I needed to quit anticipating what another woman was going to say to me and listen more intently than I ever did as a man. As I already knew, cisgender women were very different than men, but I was never allowed behind the gender curtain to discover the true extent of the differences. As I always mention, I had plenty of instances when I did not watch my back and ended up being clawed by a passive aggressive woman before I understood to watch for everyone. On the other hand, I had very few interactions with men and did not have to worry where they were coming from since most stayed away from me.

Through it all, today I can't say I can ever relax completely. Especially with the current state of affairs against the transgender world thanks to a certain orange felon. It's so bad in my native Ohio, the courts are battling laws which outlaw me using the restroom of my choice at all.  How am I supposed to feel about getting arrested when I am doing nothing wrong.

The only advice I can give anyone considering starting their own gender journey is to take the time to build your own confidence so you can proceed. Confidence is the key to relaxing as you are able to enjoy the path to your new life. 

It's Complicated

Image from John Barkiple
on UnSplash.

 
In many ways, this post is an extension of yesterday's post.

In it, I attempted to write about the connection (or lack of it) between members of the transgender or cross-dressing communities. What continues to amaze me on many levels is how complicated the outside world does not see in our world. So many in the world still think all we have to do to "solve" our gender problems is as simple as not putting on a dress for transgender women, or a pair of pants for a transgender man. Granted, it is very difficult to explain what is going on in our own gender challenged minds. How could I explain my desires to others, when I could not explain it to myself. Back in those days, there were not even therapists available who had any knowledge in the gender field to provide any help.

In the meantime, I internalized all my feelings and dreams of being a transgender woman someday, much to the detriment of my own already fragile mental health. My problem was (among many) I was naive and did not realize how complicated my genders were. I had no workbook to study from. Being completely on my own, forced me into making many mistakes I did not foresee coming as I followed a curvy gender path. The only woman I sought guidance from, withheld any significant advice, basically because she just clashed with and did not like my inner feminine self which was trying to emerge. 

What I did then was move past my wife and discover what my new world as a transgender woman had in store for me. All of it was difficult in the worst way when my old male self-ganged up on me. Both of them were losing traction on claiming my world and resented it on so many levels. It stayed so complicated because I loved my wife deeply and we had built a twenty-five-year marriage often on the ashes of my gender conflicts. When I was down and out emotionally, my wife was the first to bear the brunt of my frustrations. I knew I was wrong, but there was nothing I could do to battle my overwhelmingly frequent desires to being a woman. In fact, when my second wife was still alive, I was very actively exploring the world as a transgender woman. Primarily to discover, if I could survive at all.

My explorations proved what I suspected all along. Women lived a very layered and complicated existence and being able to join in at mid-stride would not be easy. Similar to attempting to jump on a very fast moving merry go round without it slowing down. Once I found myself on the feminine ride, I was given a chance to really learn and absorb what a woman's life was all about as my brain was rewired to survive. What amazed me was how quickly I was welcomed into a woman's world as one of their own. The worst which happened to me was when I was gently laughed at by my new cisgendered women friends when they said, welcome to our world. Which I was overwhelmingly happy to be a part of.

Ironically, if I was prepared or not, I entered a world much more complicated than the gender conflicted world I left. Plus, what happened was, the more I grew into my new world of transgender womanhood, I grew away from my wife. Before she unexpectedly passed away, it became obvious our marriage was doomed to at the worst being a total split, to at the best living as two women on their own. One-way or another, fate decided the question for me.

In many ways, I wonder if I had ever imagined such a complicated journey through life was going to be in store for me. I guess at the least, I could say, life was never boring as I suffered from being the round peg being forced into the wrong square hole. My reward was being able to say I learned how both sides of the binary genders lived, and I could choose which one I wanted to live as.

If you Know, you Know

 

JJ Hart from Key Largo, Florida

One of the reasons, we transgender women and trans men have to put up with so much evil misinformation about us in the public's eye is so many people don't even know a transgender person. 

The main reason is, we are so few when you consider the population as a whole. However, within the trans community, we share many similarities. For example, many of first trips into a feminine lifestyle came when we went through our mom's dresser drawers (or sister's) and came away with a wonderful experience. Sadly, then we could not understand why all the people and family around us could not be trusted with our secret. To make matters worse, our secret was so rare, the chances of finding anyone around us who understood was nearly impossible. I only tried to relay my secret to someone who understood twice. Once I was quickly rejected and once I was not. Of course, with the first person, I went back into my closet and was never seen again. But with the other, I found a friend I could share my desires with. Until he moved away with his mother who did not care if we experimented with her clothes and makeup. I don't know for sure, all these years later but perhaps I had found the proverbial needle in the haystack. Another person who knew what I did, we loved all things feminine.

As life continued on, I began to attend various transvestite - cross dresser mixers where I received mixed feedback on how I felt about knowing others. I discovered I did not form as many gender bonds I thought I would. I figured simply we were both into cross dressing and beyond, we would get along better. Quickly I learned, I did not know most of the attendees better than the rest of the world simply because we shared the same need to be femininized. I was exposed suddenly to different layers of the world who had the same gender issues than I. Or so I thought. I found I did not know anymore how the cowboy cross dressers who I called that because they wore cowboy hats and smoked big cigars while they wore a dress, could do that. I had my upbringing when I wore slacks to a mixer and was attacked for doing it. 

Then there were the "A" listers who were very attractive an acted just like the stuck-up girls I went to high school with. I did not get along with them either and did not understand why they could not have been nicer to everyone. I guess, if you know, you know wasn't working for me just because I put on a dress. I was learning the hard way, the differences between cross dressers and transgender women. 

These days, I am involved in just one support group through the VA, which used to be known as a LGBTQ peer support group before the changes forced upon us by the orange felon. Now we are just a support group made up primarily by the gay and lesbian attendees. In fact, out of twelve or fourteen participants, I am one of only two transgender women in the group. What I have learned is, out of all the LGBTQ people in the group share many of the same problems, especially with the upcoming problems in the Veterans Administration. Once again you could say I was so involved in my little world, I did not consider others. For example, I assumed gay and lesbian people understood or supported transgender people because we are cousins so to speak. Whereas they don't understand us any better than the rest of the world. That is why I love to share my experiences with the gays and lesbians in the group. 

I am doing my best to change and understand just because I am transgender, I understand what other trans people are going through. Or they understand me. It is difficult because today more than ever, we need each other in the world to survive. 

Authenticity

Transgender flag flying at 
Cincinnati's City Hall.

 In order to just get by in the world, transgender women, or trans men need to be authentic. Which is always easier said than done. 

First of all, you need the confidence to try out your new self in an exciting yet scary different world. Maybe, a person smarter than me has an idea on how to provide yourself with confidence other just by just doing it. For transgender women, among other things, it means putting aside all the hard-earned male privileges we came to be used to. In order to be truly authentic in our transgender womanhood, everything male had to go. 

It took me years, or even decades to get around to living authentically as a trans woman. Before I was able to, I needed to adjust my thinking to what a woman really was, and what she had to go through during her life. As my second wife kept trying to tell me, there was so much more to womanhood than just looking like one. Finally, I started to realize what she meant, but it was not until I made it out into the world as a novice transgender woman, did I realize what she really meant. For me, it meant the girls nights out I was invited to, along with everyday communication helped me to discover my true feminine self. 

Even still, all those nights I went out to be by myself were not helping me with my authenticity. I learned the difficult way all females were not women because they were never socialized into womanhood. Through it all, I wondered where the whole process would land me. For years, I feared a hard fall in my life if I had fully transitioned into transgender womanhood, but it never happened for me. I think, the more I learned in my new life helped strangers to interact with me easier, one on one. 

Perhaps the biggest discovery in my life came when I learned firsthand how powerful my internal feminine self was. Once she sensed she had control in my life, she effortlessly took over and guided me to a soft landing when I slid off my gender cliff. One of the main things she did was making me how total the femininization process was once it got started. I guess the first thing she changed was how I looked at my life. For example, she made me realize I was never a man cross dressing as a woman, I was a woman cross dressing as a man. All of a sudden, my early life made sense as to why I could never satisfy the deep craving I had to dress as a woman, only to discover a couple days later, I would be depressed if I could not dress again and find the nearest mirror. I needed constant reassurance I was on the proper path to my own form of transgender womanhood.

I guess, authenticity can only be earned the hard way through lots of work and even experimentation.  When you do experiment, and are successful, gender euphoria and confidence set in and you are ready to move forward in your life.   

I Just Couldn't Live Without Her

 

Image from Brian Kyed
on UnSplash.

At a certain moment in my life, I had reached the point of no return where I was living with two women, the one inside of me and my wife of twenty five years.

The question remains, how did I find myself in such an untenable, precarious situation. The answer was, it was not easy, and I really had to work hard to get there. Decades, to be exact. Once I pulled myself out of the mirror, and put her into the world, I knew I could never go back to being a parttime cross dresser. I could never live without her.

Many times, I have gone through the many steps I took on my path to transgender womanhood. To provide you all with a more precise look at my actions, we need to go back to the years when my second wife was still alive. What I began to do was sneak out of the house when she was working cross dressed in the world just to see if I could. After a very rough beginning, when I was laughed at, I began to get my high-heeled feet on the ground and do better. So much better, I began to think my ultimate goal of living as a transgender woman on my own terms may actually be possible. 

From there, I began to spend every spare moment I had alone as who was to become my authentic self. I became so immersed in becoming a woman, I needed to concentrate on the times when I still had to be a man at work, or with my wife. The biggest problem I had was, deep down inside I knew which gender route I had to take to survive in the world, but I was afraid to face it. The fights between my wife and I became so bad, a couple times she just told me to be man enough to be a woman. I was not man enough to do it, but I was stubborn enough to keep trying to live a middle of the road gender life, which became impossible to maintain. My mental health suffered, and I began to be more self-destructive than I already was. All the way to attempting suicide one night.

Fortunately, I was not successful in my suicide attempt, and I proceeded down the same path I had been on before. This time taking my cross-dressing activities into my own restaurant and threatening my substantially good job. Again, deep down I felt if everyone knew of my deep, dark secret, I would be relieved of the hell I was living because I had to make a change away from the male life I was living. 

Just before my wife suddenly died, I made one last ditch effort to partially purge myself of my femininizing supplies. I went all the way to growing a beard, so at least I was telling myself I was making an effort to return to the male world. However, there was one big problem, I was miserable and about the time I needed to go back into my feminine world, my wife suddenly and tragically passed away from a massive heart attack at work. Through all of our problems, I loved her deeply and we were married twenty-five years.

I often wonder what would have happened had she lived. I think now, my internal female would have won out and I would have completed my gender transition. She would have won because I felt so natural in the world as a transgender woman. When it came down to which woman I could not live with, I would have had to have chosen the woman I should have been all along and hopefully patched up my life with my second wife. So, at the least, we could have stayed friends.

Is It Real?

 

JJ Hart. 

Every now and then I pause and reflect upon my transgender womanhood as it exists now. 

I mention often, the trials and tribulations I needed to go through to arrive at the point I am today. Similar to many of you, I went through my cross-dressing adolescence trying to shove my testosterone poisoned body into skimpy women's fashion designed mainly for teen aged girls in their prime. I would love to have back some of those days when I went out in skirts which were too short and tops which were too tight. Predictably, I attracted too much of the wrong sort of attention and had to hurry home in tears. It was real alright, and reality was no fun for me in those days. The only good thing which happened was, my inner feminine self-kept the pressure on not to quit the feminizing process and listen to her on how I should dress to face the world. Which was much different than what my male self was telling me. 

It was then I realized how different and powerful the gender world was I was seeking admission to. I learned firsthand what I had always known. Women run their own separate world oftentimes in a parallel universe to men. They have their own power struggles from cliques they form rather than the teams' men form. Perhaps, more importantly, I learned the power of passive aggression women use. Women are very good at supposedly losing the battle but coming back to win the war and a smiling face does not often mean acceptance into her clique. 

Before you think the learning, curve was all negative for me, there were plenty of positives to work with. A prime example was, I loved the passive aggressive games women played with me as I learned to have eyes on my back the whole time I was out in the early years. By doing so, I earned my way in to being able to play in the girl's sandbox. My ticket in, just happened to be from the women bartenders I came to know as a regular. From them, other strangers were able to see me interacting easily with the staff plus I was awarded rest room privileges which I desperately needed. I grew used to seeing the staff so much in one venue I went to, I was even invited to a girl's night out one time with a group of servers. Which (even though I was scared), I ended up enjoying immensely. 

The whole process was extremely real to me and more importantly, it all felt so real. It was like this is the way I should be living the whole time. I was developing a substantial feminine wardrobe and had venues to wear my fashion to. I felt for the first time in my life, I was living a real existence, and I felt so alive. It took me many years to try to live a male existence and just that quickly, I broke all the reliance I had in the male world and stayed in my new femininized world. 

It was real and I was so happy I had the chance to live it, but I need to say, the whole path had its share of bumps and emotional bruises. Plus, since I had so few believers in me, I needed to rely in myself. Often, it was a very lonely process when I went it alone. It wasn't until I began to believe in my inner female so completely, did I find out how real life could be.

A Private Journey

Virginia Prince

Being a young person with gender issues forced me into my own deep shell.

 Plus, the times I grew up in did not help. I battled having no real gender information in the times before the internet and social media. In fact, the first real indication I had there were any others who shared a similar desire to change their gender was when I discovered "Transvestia" Magazine and "Virginia Prince". Initially, I was so fascinated, I just needed to learn more.

My private journey became less private when I began to attend transvestite mixers, as they were called back then. From my well-worn pages of "Transvestia" I learned several of the mixers were within driving distance of me in my native Ohio. Immediately, I began to make plans to do the impossible dream and attend. I could not imagine what it would be like to meet in person, another cross dresser as I perceived myself to be. It all struck an emotional chord with me, and I could not wait for my first mixer. I felt, at the least, the event could help to get out of my shell and not be so private. 

Of course, I found out I was expecting way to much from my first meeting with others with gender issues. To start with, I was not prepared for the layers of participants at the mixer. Everyone from beautiful transsexuals to "cowboy" cross dressers with their hats and cigars. Somewhere, in between was me. Wondering where I should be in the group. All Virginia Prince and "Transvestia" told me was, I needed to be heterosexual in order to fit in. Prince never said anything about all the different individuals I would encounter. Long story short, I found I did not really fit in with any of the other attendees. Again, I was stuck in my own private journey.

Throughout my disappointment in not meeting more like-minded individuals to share my gender hopes and dreams with, I at least found a very few others I could socialize with. Better yet, they lived even closer to me in near-by Columbus, Ohio. One of the transsexual women had a very nice, restored home in a historic area of the city and regularly hosted her own mini mixers. Since I usually worked weekend nights, I could not make it to all of them, but the ones I could, I enjoyed immensely. 

On my visits, I even discovered others who were exploring their new gender lives as more than cross dressers since the new transgender terminology was still being explored. At the time, I knew I was not completely into, going through all the gender changing operations, but then again, if I could do it, I would love to pursue a trip into transgender womanhood.

Maybe I kept my journey private because I was just that type of person, or I just had never met many people I trusted with my deepest secrets. To this day, I think I can count on one hand, the people who know all about me. Even including my long-time therapist. My wife Liz used to harass me by asking me what we talked about, and I had a difficult time coming up with an answer. Even so, I am a believer in therapy, as it did help me to come up with coping mechanisms for my complicated gender life. 

As I look back, I have come a long way from the pages of "Transvestia" but not far enough to totally say I have ever left my private journey which was so completely embedded in me when I was younger.

Nothing but a Reflection

 

Woman in Mirror from Darius Bashar
on UnSplash.

It seems for some reason, recently, I have been obsessed with thinking about my earliest days of admiring my girl, cross dressed reflection at home in the mirror. I hope in this post I will be able to take my obsession a step further. 

I believe women have a head start over transgender women when it comes to the basic concept of being viewed in the public's eye. To begin with, women are faced with more appearance scrutiny than men. Women have to put up with the reality they are viewed more closely by both genders. Whereas men don't have to face nearly as much scrutiny. Then, being a transgender woman takes even more work to survive in the world. 

Then there is the reality of reflection between genders. Women traditionally resort to makeup, beauty spas and fashion to reflect the best version of themselves to attract men and to a lesser extent, impress other women. It is at least a multibillion dollar a year business. Now, back to me, and where I was on my path to transgender womanhood. 

Where I was on my path, was I was still struggling with even having the beginners' basics on how I could reflect woman to the public at large. With the help of continued work on my makeup and me attacking the nearby thrift stores, I finally began to reflect feminine to the world. When I did, I could begin to refine my approach and relax in the world as a transgender woman or more advanced cross dresser. Mostly, that meant putting my mirror's reflection in motion. It was very difficult in the beginning, as I needed to look the women and men in the world in the eye and be myself. Humans have the tendency to explore the world through their eyes and I quickly became used to having other women look at me totally head to toe. 

All too soon, I was ripped from my mirror and living a very scary but exciting life in a new world. Very quickly, I was able to put my fears behind me and understand who was really looking at me. Men paid me very little attention because I always assumed I was not attractive enough, but on the other hand, I was really receiving much more attention from cisgender women than I had ever had before. Obviously, for whatever reasons, my reflection with other women was working well and I loved it.

I was on a remarkable gender journey as I left the mirror behind and joined the world. As I refined my feminine outlook, I needed to accomplish a couple major goals. The first was, to never not refer to myself internally as a man again. I was a she and that was it. The second was, I needed to concentrate on establishing my own feminine aura. I started to really begin to zero in on whom ever I was talking to into knowing they were interacting with a woman. If it worked or not, remains to be seen, but I kept on trying.

Projecting my aura was the last stop in my progression out of the mirror and into the world. I viewed it as taking the last vestiges of any light I had ever seen in the mirror and turn it into a bright light of hope. It was scary because I was not used to being in a such a new world as a transgender woman. Along the way, I took on my share of setbacks but kept on moving forward.

Now, the reflection I see in the mirror, is only the one I need to apply my makeup and closely shave before I go out. I have also worked hard to do away with any remaining gender dysphoria I may still have. When it does hit me, it normally happens in the morning when I first look at myself in the mirror. I finally have come to the conclusion I don't look as bad as I think or as good, I think I do with my makeup.  The middle point has become good enough for me, and the mirror has again become nothing but a reflection.

What Came First?

 

Image from Alexander Grey
on UnSplash. 

Today was "patch" day, when I changed out my gender affirming hormonal estradiol patches, which I do twice a week. 

Every time I change out my patches to new ones, I think back to all the changes I went through when I first started years ago. Among other things, I remember how impatient I was to see and feel changes I hoped were forthcoming. I was also disappointed when I learned I would have to start on a very minimal dosage until the doctor and I could see if there were going to be any negatives to the treatment. Fortunately, there were not, and I was given progressively higher doses until I was finally assigned to an endocrinologist for more specialized treatment. At the time, the Dayton, Ohio VA Hospital did not have an Endo, so I needed to wait until they found me an outside provider for my care. After quite a bit of pushing on my part, the VA finally came through and I was set until they came up with their own Endo. Which I have to this day.

In the meantime, I was experiencing many significant changes to my body and surprisingly, to my mind. It was like my body had already been set up for the new HRT hormones and felt very natural with the changes. It is easy to write about the external changes I always mention, such as breast growth, hair growth and the overall softening of my skin. As I mentioned in a recent post, suddenly I was able to present better when I was out in public because I was able to wear less makeup and get my own hair styled and colored how I wanted it. 

Less obvious to the world, but more obvious to me were the internal changes I began to rapidly feel with the new hormones in my body. What came first was I was losing more and more contact with my old male self. I was losing my old testosterone edge and began to really mellow out. I went through puberty again and even experienced my first hot flashes as my body adjusted to the new femininized world it was in. Most certainly, my male self-had come first out of necessity, but the HRT allowed my feminine self the chance to catch up. I even learned women were not making it up when they were saying they were cold all the time, when my thermostat went crazy, and I was too. 

One of the only drawbacks I experienced was I needed to move up my life transition timeline, because changes were beginning to happen so rapidly. I could no longer wear most of my male shirts because of my new breasts and I needed to always be careful to tie back my hair when I was butching it up when I was going out. Also, my facial hair never really changed as I knew it wouldn't, but my body hair nearly completely went away, which was great.

As I said, there were no drawbacks when I left my male world internally. I never missed the actions of my male self who always seemed to be on edge. I became very introspective on what I was going through and could even began to be able to cry for the first time in my life. It was then I learned there were different sort of tears. Tears of sorrow and tears of joy were quite possible. 

I had no choice, my male self-came first and I ended up trying decades of cross dressing to fight him. But as I changed, gender affirming hormones were a huge part of it. In many ways, HRT was the deciding factor in finding my way into transgender womanhood. 

It turned out the second part of my life turned out to be so much more fulfilling than the first part. Even though I was frustrated at times that I waited so long, it was worth the wait. Especially when I learned the hormones did not change my sexuality. I was still attracted to women, and I found some were attracted to me as a transgender lesbian. It was all so exciting and new, I could not get enough of my new life and it did not matter what came first.