Showing posts with label transvestite. Show all posts
Showing posts with label transvestite. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 24, 2026

Imagination or Knowledge

 


JJ Hart. 

In the very beginning of my transgender journey, I often wondered if it was all just part of my very active imagination. Perhaps it was all part of me secretly hoping all of my gender issues would magically go away.

Of course, my gender dysphoria never went away until much later in life when I faced up to it and all I was doing as I viewed myself in the mirror cross-dressed as a girl, was slowly instill the knowledge my trans desires were not going anywhere. In fact, back in those days, the transgender term had not even been invented to use at all. I was living in the pre-internet “dark ages” of information. All I had was the well-worn issue of “Transvestia” from Virginia Prince to connect me at all to the world of people who had the same gender issues as I did. Closets were impossibly dark and lonely back then.

It took the knowledge of my situation to finally break into the light and see the world as a small part of who I really was. I finally used my issue of “Transvestia” to locate nearby mixers which were headlined for heterosexual transvestites only. If that was true or not, I found a diverse mixture of people attending which ranged from beginning cross-dressers all the way to impossibly feminine transsexual women heading for gender surgeries. The frustrating part for me was that even with the choice of individuals I felt close to, I could not find a group to hang out with. I was frustrated that I had come this far to still feel this completely different. The light was there, but it was very dim due to my complete misunderstanding of who I really was.

The one fact I was waking up to was that none of what I was feeling was my imagination. My gender issues ran very deep and would be very difficult to solve. As I always point out, since I was so busy being an active man at the time, the conflict was real. Once I realized what I was really battling. On the plus side, about this time, the internet became part of my life, and I was able to see and even reach out to others like me. It was all well and good until my second wife, who was more computer savvy than me, caught on to what I was doing and tried to stop me. After I used my imagination to find ways around her, I was still able to build knowledge of what it would look like if I was actually able to enter the world as a transgender woman.

Once I began to really explore the world as a novice transfeminine person, I really had to use my imagination to succeed in getting out every spare moment I had from work. I would purposely schedule myself off from my work on the days I knew my wife was going to be working late just so I had free time for exploration, is a prime example. In that case, imagination became knowledge as I actually began to explore what I needed to explore behind the gender curtain. Even to the point of making new friends who had no knowledge at all of my previous male life which I was trying hard to do away with.

More importantly, as I sat myself up for success in venues I really wanted to be in as a woman, imagination further faded as knowledge sat in as I was able to fill out my gender notebook. No more gay venues for me where I was treated as a drag queen and even ignored when I tried to order a drink, all the way to be treated as a regular where I wanted to be was the knowledge that I needed to succeed further.

During this time also, I spent a lot of time soul searching about if I was doing the right thing about attempting to femininize myself even more with my new lifestyle and going even further my seeing it I could be approved for HRT. Mainly because I felt so natural as my feminine self among ciswomen, I thought I would take the path of least resistance and continue building knowledge of taking the gender leap I was considering. In essence, I was taking all the imagination that the young girl in front of the mirror away and replacing it with the knowledge of what I could expect living as a fulltime transgender woman. I needed all the knowledge I could get because the risks in jumping the gender border were so great. It all meant saying goodbye to all the male privileges I had worked so hard to build up. Not to mention the extra pressure of the possibility of giving up spouse, family, friends and employment as I knew it. I needed to be prepared to burn it all and start over.

What I ended up doing was, hedging my bets a little by making new friends in a new feminine life which I hoped would soften the fall if I decided to jump off the cliff and never go back to my male self. At this point, I always mention all the women who helped me along but somehow, I miss the most important one, my inner female who came through in a big way when she was allowed to run my life for a change. Once I gave her the platform to flourish, there was no imagination of the path she was going to take.  She took the highroad without all the evilness you see in some fulltime transgender women. She just wanted to enjoy her life and be an active part of the world and the LGBTQ community. And she wanted to help others by writing about her experiences.

Which brings me full circle to where I am today. No imagination, just the knowledge of experience to get me by in the world.

 

 

 

Sunday, March 22, 2026

In Touch with Nature

 

Image from Brice Cooper
on UnSplash.

The “Ostara” ritual came off yesterday as expected with the usual suspects attending.

The weather cooperated with all the other plans, and it was a beautiful spring day here in southwestern Ohio. The only gender drawback did not even come because of me because there was a young very androgynous child there too. I could not tell the gender of the child and of course I did not pry. All went well until one of the other older women in the circle just could not leave the matter alone and said something to the child which elicited a loud response. Suddenly I heard “I’m a girl!”, and I thought the woman just could not leave it alone and had to go where she should not have been. Other than that, the woman sat next to Liz and I when we ate lunch and persisted on lighting up some sort of a cigarette after she ate which did not go over well with Liz and I who are confirmed non-smokers. The only good thing was after she smoked if was time for us to leave the ritual.

What I don’t think I realized was until after I received a comment from “Alex” who is transitioning from female to male was how much the opposite path of my gender male to female gender transition has meant to me. Now I can really feel the power of nature is a small example of how much more the Ostara ritual meant to me than I ever thought it could be when I was a man and too busy thinking about guy stuff such as work and sports to be overly concerned about my inner connections with Mother Nature. I credit the power of HRT or gender affirming hormones with unleashing a new appreciation for the world around me as I progressed with the hormones. All of a sudden, I was more in touch with the world around me with senses such as temperature and smell. I was very appreciative of permission I was given by the doctors I saw to go down the gender path I did, and I worry that the orange pedo in Washington and his followers will take it all away from transgender people of all ages today. Already it is happening here in Ohio, and I fear for my next estradiol prescription which is due to be renewed early in May.

It comes through the Veteran’s Administration health care system for me, and hopefully I still will be protected from outside political influence since I have been taking the hormones for nearly a decade now. Maybe I can fly under the radar at the VA and tie it all into my mental health (which is true) and something the VA is ultra-sensitive about. Fortunately, I have an appointment set up soon for a new psychiatrist who I hope will be sensitive to my entire situation. With that, maybe I can explain the power of the ritual I just went through on my overall mental well being and he will be behind me.

I think in many ways, getting back in touch with nature during “Ostara” takes me back to the innocent days of my rural childhood when my brother, friends and I had our run of the fields and woods around us. Growing up that way, with the freedoms we had, set in motion a lifetime of appreciation of nature that somehow got away from me as I grew into a false sense of manhood. Where “camping” out during Army basic training in Kentucky was as far as I got into nature. What a relief it was for me to make all the positive contact I had missed at least for a hour or so during the intense ritual experience.

I had no idea that my sense of gender was so intertwined with the world until I began to reach out to others and live it. And I am sad that mankind has managed to abuse the only world we have to call home, but that is another subject altogether. It all came back to me yesterday as I remembered the love I had for the woods which surrounded our house when I was growing up. I guess it took a jolt to my system which included a male to female gender transition, to bring myself back to a full circle experience with the world and back in touch with nature.

 

 

 

 

Saturday, March 21, 2026

In the Circle

 

In celebration of Ostara.

Today will be a beautiful day to get together with spiritual friends and celebrate “Ostara” which is the Pagan/Wiccan celebration of the Spring Equinox. The circle part comes in when the group is called together to start the ritual. It is supposed to be dry and near seventy-one degrees (F) today in the park we go to for the ritual, so you could not ask for a better day.

Meeting the group carries a deep meaning for me which goes past the ritual. Joining my wife Liz as she went first to the rituals and being accepted was just one aspect.  It was like I was adding a whole new barrier between my new feminine self and my old male one. I felt as if I was climbing a set of stairs to just becoming a complete me because in addition to attending the rituals, Liz and I were also going to Cincinnati area meetups for writers and craft people. I was meeting strangers for the first time when I was just me then surviving. I was proud as well as being happy about it. 

It was like I transitioned for the third time in my life as I went in a big circle. I started out as a cross dresser, moved to a transgender woman and then back to me. I cannot say enough about the confidence I was able to build up as I traveled my path from one stopping point to another.

In addition, I was curious about how going to the rituals would affect how I viewed the world spiritually. I knew I had always been a somewhat spiritual person without being a part of any specific religion. If I was made to have a choice, I would always say I was Buddhist because of my days in Thailand and how much I respected the gentle ways of the people. Anything but Christianity which rejected the very basis of being transgender in not all but several cases I had encountered. One way or another, religion is not a subject I want to get into here. It is a point of no return and easy to get stuck in stereotyping religions if I attempt to explain myself. So, I will leave it at that.

As I said, I am really looking forward to seeing old friends at the ritual again except for one who asks me what the transgender community thinks about what is going on today. Finally, I quieted him down by asking what he thought about what was happening to us. Fortunately for both of us, he said he hated it. If he did not the circle may have been broken.

 

 

 

Sunday, March 15, 2026

Living in the Real World

 

Image from Jacqueline Mungala
on UnSplash.

Living in the real world became a challenge to me as I transitioned from a male existence to a feminine world. The main problem I had was figuring out what was right and what was wrong as I followed my path through many blind curves and stop signs.

One thing I never thought of completely was how different my life would be if I had ever had the chance to live as a fulltime transgender woman. Sure, I was not totally naïve and thought my world would basically involve pretty clothes and being chased by boys. When I finally was allowed behind the gender curtain, I discovered how complex and layered lives ciswomen really live. Very quickly, trying to live in the real world as a novice struggling trans woman got me in over my head. I would be remiss if I did not bring up how I tried to present myself. I thought trying to look like a sexy teen girl was the way to go, and fortunately my time in that cross-dressing phase of my life went away quickly. Often with brutal consequences of being laughed out of any venue I was trying to visit.

In other words, I put what my male self was telling me about presenting as a woman in the real world behind me and started to look around to what I needed to do to blend in with the other ciswomen around me. The challenge was not only did I have to be as good as the next woman, I needed to be better to survive in the real world I found myself in. With success, I brought confidence I could do more.

The next problem I faced was what was I going to do about my deteriorating (already fragile) mental health. As luck would have it, I was assigned a qualified therapist within the Veterans Administration who knew what she was doing and was able to separate my Bi-polar disorder from my gender dysphoria issues. She provided me with permission to begin HRT which is something I had always wanted and made the real world more livable for a transfeminine person like me.

At the same time, I was trying to take every spare moment away from work to explore different venues as a trans woman. I was attempting to accomplish trying out (as much as possible) everything I would have to go through if I ever followed my dream into womanhood. What was a ciswoman’s life really like and how was it different than what I had already lived as a man. I was entering the scariest yet most exciting time of my life as for the most part I was successful when I went out. The biggest issue which eluded me, was being able to communicate effectively with the world of women I encountered. Learning all the nuances of non-verbal communication women use was the biggest challenge for me. For the first time in my life, I needed to really listen to what was being said to me and watch the other woman’s eyes at the same time to see if I could catch a clue of what she really meant.

Through this portion of my life, I had a powerful motivation to succeed as a woman in the real world. My second wife of twenty-five years had unexpectedly passed away to leave me completely alone with my gender issues. I had no spouse to worry about how to tell my truth about wanting to be a woman. Yet another terrifying yet exciting time of my life. What was I going to do about my newfound freedom. Since you are reading this post, you know what I decided to do. I started making plans to finally make the leap off the gender cliff I had thought of for some time and throw caution to the wind for the remainder of my life. I figured why not because my confidence was at an all-time high with my small circle of friends I had built up. Along with factoring in all the time and effort I put in exploring the real-world ciswomen live in because for once, I had earned my way (or forced my way) behind the so called “sacred” gender curtain.

Once I had made it to this point, after another stop sign on my transgender path, I found I still had more learning to do to really be ready to live in the real world. That is where my ciswomen (lesbian) friends came in which is a subject of another blog post. I will say, they taught me how to be validated as myself in the real world. It was another main transition to go from thinking I was a transgender woman to knowing I was just me. Which took me from cross-dresser to trans woman, back to a secure me during my lifetime. A long, often brutal journey which had a happy ending. I learned the person I had been running from much of my life was not such a bad person after all.

Maybe, most importantly, I discovered the one aspect of my life I never thought I could experience and that was having the ability to be happy. I never had a chance to learn it from my family, and I spent so much time trying to deny myself any satisfaction I could have had from a successful career as a man, there was no time to ever be happy. It turned out that when I turned the corner back to just being the true me, I allowed happiness to be part of my existence.

I had survived all the lessons I had learned as I followed my path to a brighter, more authentic gender future. Living in the real world was not such a bad thing after all. My only regret is that it took me so long (all the way till sixty) to have the courage to face my truth so I could live as I truly was.

 

 

 

Saturday, March 14, 2026

I Could Never Say No

 

JJ Hart with two Special People who 
made it Impossible for me to say No.
Liz on left, daughter on right. 




I discovered early in life that saying no to cross-dressing as a girl was something I could never do.

I tried many times, but I was a miserable failure as the pressure would build to run to my makeup and wardrobe to look at myself in the mirror. I even went as far as trying to shave the ugly unwanted hair off my legs with my mom’s electric razor. When I did, the world seemed to come together for me…for a while. Like clockwork, I could almost predict when the pressure would start to build again to cross-dress. Like most of you, I even purged or threw out most all of my feminine belongings in a wild rush which felt so good at the moment, until my old urges came rushing down on me. Saying no was just not an option.

For a while, I thought being feminine to the point of living as a transgender woman fulltime was always going to be just a dream. At other times, I thought that some point in my life I would just outgrow my gender urges and revert to a fulltime male life, no matter what my brain was telling me. I guess you could say, sometimes I thought a permanent purge would be in my future. I was kidding myself. That permanent purge never came as I tried many times to no avail. It seemed each time I tried to say no, my urges to follow my transgender needs came back even stronger. This time fueled by the positive feedback I was receiving when I was able to present better going out in public as a novice trans woman in a world of ciswomen. Just entering their world was much more difficult for me than I ever thought possible.

One of the problems was my old male self and my second wife did not participate in my dreams. It was far from my wife’s fault because none of what I was doing was anything she signed up for when we got married. She tried to help as much as she could, but my dream was growing so fast I could not control it. I started out the marriage as a cross-dresser and now I was into a transgender woman, and I did not have the courage, or knowledge to explain it. I just knew, I could not say no to pursuing my dreams. I am sure all she saw was her man slipping away. Sometimes slowly and sometimes quickly and I understood why she did not like it.

As I said, I really always knew saying no was not an option in my pursuit of a transfeminine life when I really went out into the world and found myself in the middle of new friendships who knew nothing of my past. growing Just trying to look the part of a woman faded away as I always thought it would when I found myself at the point of wanting to be that woman. Doing my best to communicate with the world on their terms. As I continually searched my soul for guidance on the path I should take, the answer always came back the same. Follow your instincts and do what you need to do to feel natural. With input such as that, why should I ever say no to myself again.

Finally, I reached the point of no return in my life when I needed to look at myself in the mirror to see who I really was. With no makeup at all one morning, I had a chance to see the real me and the words my wife Liz said to me came through loud and clear. There was no male in me and for once everything with a “no” word in it made sense. Plus, I was mentally exhausted from fighting myself all my life. I had enough, and it was time to make my final decision.

When I replaced no with yes, my life opened up to new horizons I never thought possible. Yes, meant I could be the long-hidden self I could never find. If you are on a gender path of your own, I hope you can do a better job of facing your truth than I did. I kept saying no too long and missed a significant amount of my life trying to outrun myself. On the other hand, changing a gender is a huge move, and one that cannot be taken lightly. You have to get to the point where saying no is not an option to you anymore.

 

 

 

Monday, March 9, 2026

Set in Stone?

 

JJ Hart

When we are born, we are assigned a gender which is arbitrarily based on our genitals the doctor sees. Often, at that point, gender reveal parties are set up by new proud parents. Of course, the problem is what if the child does not agree with how the reveal was going but had no say in the process. That was exactly where I found myself.

I was born as a first son into a male dominated family, so as I grew, I learned what was expected of me. Be a success, compete for it and earn my male privilege was my only path. I was caught with no way out, seemingly, I was stuck in stone. My only path to sanity was the very limited time I had to cross-dress in front of the mirror and try to transform myself into the pretty girl I always wanted to be.

The first time I saw a glimmer of hope in my future as a transgender woman was when I started to go to Halloween parties dressed as a woman, just to see how I was perceived. Overall, I felt as if I got a fair reception and could not wait for Halloween to roll around again. I found I could not wait and began to come up with other ways to test my feminine presentation in the public’s eye by simply going out to malls and women’s clothing stores. Looking back, some of my adventures were just OK and others were brutally bad as I learned what I was doing. One of the main things I learned was presenting as a woman was not set in stone. Often, I could take advantage of the seasonal variations in women’s fashion to change up my own look, which made the fashion process so much more challenging and fun. I needed to up my diet game to fit into more stylish clothes I hunted down at the thrift stores I shopped at. I liked many of them because I could try on my potential treasures in the women’s dressing rooms with no problems.

All of this led me to believe that maybe my gender situation was not set in stone, perhaps I could find my way out of the life I was given. I just needed to be sure that escaping the stone I was in did not put me in quicksand. Or was the transgender frying pan worse than the fire. With my newfound confidence, I set out to discover the answer to as many of my gender questions as I could. I knew I felt an energy in life I had never felt before and it felt so natural that I wanted to experience more. But even with all of that, it wasn’t enough to keep me satisfied with my slow transition. The basic question remained that could I ever gain the courage and where with all to live my dream of existing as a full-time transgender woman on my own terms. Sadly. I was not going to learn that answer for years because my male life kept getting in the way.

By in the way, I mean he kept setting up major roadblocks of my proposed path such as what to do about my wife of twenty-five years and the very successful job I had worked so hard to get. I cherished both of them and did not want to let them go. I am sure, this sounds familiar to many of you in the same situation. Especially when you think your male situation is set in stone and you can’t get out.

I thought the same thing for years as my mental health deteriorated as I drank way to much trying to self-medicate my problems. The part I never understood was how I could think what was true today would be true tomorrow. Destiny for me completely turned me around during the dark days when my wife and almost all of my close friends passed away, leaving me almost completely by myself. Except for my daughter and my brother. On top of all of that, the Veterans’ Administration healthcare system, which I was a part of suddenly approved the use of HRT or gender affirming hormones for qualified veterans who were approved through a therapist to receive them. I was approved and prepared myself for my second puberty and the greatest most profound changes of my life.

Suddenly, everything I thought was set in stone, was not. I was free to live the way I had prepared for all my life had come true. I could even dare to be happy for the first time in my life. It was always set in stone that happiness could not be part of my life. Thankfully I was wrong about that. It was just a matter of learning where I truly belonged and then getting rid of that giant roadblock I was born with. My so-called gender because it turned out to be true, I was never supposed to live a male life after all. All the years of struggle and emotional pain were wasted on a fight that I was never destined to win.

As I always say, I was not a man cross dressing as a woman, I was a woman cross dressing as a man to just get by in life. I was fortunate in that my gender destiny was not set in stone no matter how determined my family around me was to keep me male, I always found a way to sneak around their backs and keep that feminine flicker of hope alive. Now it is able to burn brightly due to no small help from mainly new friends and family. Roadblocks were moved and now the path is straight and smooth as I am able to live the dream I always wanted.

As I said, remember that today does not dictate what tomorrow may bring. I always say, life can change on a dime. If you can find the dime.

 

 

 

Sunday, March 8, 2026

When Gender Calls

 

Image from Brooke Cagel on UnSplash. 

When I was very young, when I listened closely, I could hear the faint sound of my true gender calling me.

Please keep in mind that very early on I could not quite understand what the voice was trying to tell me. I just knew something was not right. As I grew older and started experimenting with Mom’s clothes (even to the point of shaving my legs), did I have a basic understanding of what the voice was trying to tell me. From the first view of myself in our full-length hallway mirror, I had an idea that I had arrived in the right place as I stared at the pretty girl that I had a hand in creating.

It was then that the real gender work began. The first problem I had was trying to find the private time I had to cross-dress. And once I did, when would I have the time to do it again as the gender pressure built on me every time. What I did not understand and wouldn’t for many years was that I was much more than someone who just wanted to wear pretty feminine clothing. My true gender was calling and would never be satisfied until it was properly expressed. Even though I did not fully understand the path I was on and would have to accept it over the years to come. Especially all the blind curves and stop signs I ran into. I was not prepared for all the trials and tribulations I would have to go through to even try to pursue my gender dreams which always had to do with living a transfeminine life. At that time, the phrase had not yet been invented or used, so all I knew was I wanted to be a woman with all the perceived benefits which came with it.

Jumping ahead, the benefits of living as a full-time trans woman were there but just vastly different that I thought they would be. I still had the joy of selecting and wearing pretty clothes which changed with the seasons. It turned out, some of the enjoyment was taken away when I needed to pick out an outfit every day when I gave away all my male clothes and the reality of my existence set in. I guess you could say the novelty of dressing like a woman became a necessity when my gender called.

Speaking of my gender calling, I needed to learn how to accept it when it was trying to get through in my busy life as a man. I knew who was calling all of the time, I was just afraid of facing the reality of me answering it. I ran from it until I could run no more and I had myself painted into a feminine corner of reality I could not get out of.

What I am referring to is all the nights I went out as a trans woman to be alone and ended up socializing and carving out a new life faster than I ever thought possible. Suddenly, my gender phone was ringing off the hook and demanding more and more attention. The conversations became deeper and deeper as discussions about spouses, family and jobs took center stage. At a crucial point, I needed to lose all my fears of debating the pros and cons of gender change and consider the future which increasingly looked feminine to me. I respected the world of ciswomen from all angles, and I wanted to explore my desire to fit in more and more.

Finally, my gender voice became mildly abusive and challenged me to think deeply about the life situation I was in. What was I doing by constantly fighting a situation where I felt natural and good at. For once, I put my stubborn male self behind me and listened. Sure, there were bound to be bigots and haters still on my path, but I would have to ignore them and stand up for myself. The availability of gender affirming hormones or HRT helped me a lot because the hormones softened my skin and harsh male facial angles and made it easier to present a feminine face to the public. Which in turn, gave me more confidence. For the first time in my life, my external and internal features came close to matching.

At least now, my gender voice could quit screaming and calling me stupid for the way I was trying to run my life. Then perhaps, I could answer my gender phone and think about more pressing issues such as how I was going to run my life as a successful, happy transgender woman since happiness was something which eluded me for most of my life.

During a classic “if I had known then what I know now” moment, if I had known way back in my past how deep my gender issues ran, I was so much more than someone who enjoyed wearing feminine clothes. I wanted to be a woman as my ultimate goal in life. It would have been nice too, to have other guidance to help me along in my gender dysphoria struggles. In those days, not only were there not any qualified therapists to help, but there also wasn’t even internet to refer to for information so our closets were very lonely and dark.

Certainly, the one thing missing in my closet was a phone so I could talk when gender called. Maybe it would have saved me a great amount of stress and turmoil. I say maybe because of who knows, I would have had the maturity and courage to lick up the phone and have a honest and far-reaching discussion with myself about who I really was.

Maybe, when your gender calls, there will be a real person such as a supporting spouse to talk to about your life. So many transgender women and transgender men don’t have that luxury. One way or another, pick up the phone and talk. It could be the best therapy for you.

 

 

 

Saturday, March 7, 2026

Buckle Up for the Ride

Image from Inis Piazzi on
UnSplash.
I am biased I know but I think negotiating a full-fledged trip through the gender frontier from one side to the other side is one of the most difficult things a human can do.

Unless you are blessed with an overabundance of feminine qualities and characteristics, you very much start out from point zero with your femininization project and it shows. I am an example as I thought I looked good with my tight clothes and makeup which would have looked good on a clown in drag in the circus. In all fairness, it took me awhile to catch up because my gender workbook was blank and I had no one to help me fill it out. No overly concerned mom to tell me what not to do with makeup and no peer group of girls to coach me along. It was all me, and it showed. Except in the mirror which kept on lying to me by telling me I was a pretty girl.

It wasn’t until I began going out into the world did, I find out how wrong the mirror was. Numerous times, just after the mirror told me I looked great, I was bounced by an unforgiving public back to the safety of my closet. Through it all, some people were so cruel with their comments, they sent me home in tears. It was during those dark days when I really had to buckle up and decide what I was doing was right. Somehow, deep down inside, I knew I was right and I needed to figure out what exactly I was doing wrong when I cross -dressed and went out.

What happened was, I had the where with all to look around at all the ciswomen around me and notice what they were doing. By doing so, I noticed a few of the women were as big as I was, so size was not the issue which was dooming me to being laughed at. It was how I moved and how I interacted with the world which mattered. Plus, it helped that my makeup skills had begun to dramatically improve. I quit feeling sorry for myself and started to fill out my own gender workbook without being a victim. Because I was stuck with a testosterone poisoned body and somehow, I needed to work my way around it.

I started by going on a diet which I lost fifty pounds on and started to take better care of my skin after I shaved, so I used less makeup and found less was actually more. At the same time, I began to haunt the local thrift stores for just the right piece of clothing which I could buy which flattered my new slimmer figure. I still had my male torso with the broad shoulders, and I had to dress my way around them. I discovered new favorite outfits with loose flowing tops combined with denim skirts that worked really well for me.

Little did I know, all this progress I was making was placing me on a one-way track towards an on-coming train. And that train was how I was going to communicate with the world which suddenly accepted me? I was extremely shy and had a difficult time communicating with the world anyhow and now I had to add on a new totally foreign language to deal with, the language of ciswomen. Initially, I was too petrified to say anything but then slowly gained the confidence to shyly join in conversations. It was so new and difficult that I needed to really buckle up to do it. I found if I did not, I would destroy everything I sat out to do by appearing mean or worse yet, bitchy. The last thing I wanted.

Once I buckled down and put my fear of communication behind me, my world opened wide with new vistas of gender enjoyment. It turned out that what I said was more important than how I said it and with that knowledge, life became easier as a transgender woman in the world for the first time.

No matter where you are in your gender journey, look ahead and not behind you. Sure, you can learn from the past, but it should not dominate you and stop you from proceeding along your way. Keep in mind, you are on a very difficult journey with major life risks at hand such as spouses, family, friends and jobs. Also beware of the trap I fell into when my second wife accepted me as a cross dresser but then completely rejected me as a transgender woman. She was correct in thinking there were vast differences between the two. Just putting on a dress and makeup just did not solve any of my gender problems anymore. I increasingly wanted more of life in the feminine world and was buckling up to get it by wanting to be approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT. I was eventually approved for the dramatic changes the hormones made but sadly my wife passed away before she could experience any of the changes with me.

In my long life, it has been a rarity for me to experience firsthand any trans woman or trans man who has had a smooth, uneventful journey.  So, if you are just considering starting, or just beginning your gender path, it is best to prepare for a bumpy ride, so buckle up tight for the trip. Undoubtedly, it will provide you with setbacks and surprises you never expected. Like I always say, the gender trip is like a rollercoaster at a big amusement park, it is worth the price of admission if you let it be. As I said, just be sure to buckle up for the ride of your life. It is one most humans never get to take.

Think of it this way, make your buckle part of your fashion accessory and everyone can admire it.

 

 



Wednesday, March 4, 2026

Gender Euphoria is Real

 

Image from Simona Todarova
on UnSplash. 

Looking back at yesterday’s interaction with the woman who referred to me as “she” when talking to her husband, I knew that gender euphoria was real.

When I talked to her, I was rewarded with being the total feminine package with no doubts including impostor syndrome to ruin the experience. In the past, I would have waited for something to come up to tip off I was transgender. Yesterday, as I said, nothing like that ever entered the conversation. Maybe it was because I got the ball rolling when I sat down beside her in the waiting room. Smiled and said hello. It is difficult for me to do with strangers because I am so shy. I guess finally I am getting the confidence to step out of my shell and do better socially. It helped too, because it turned out we had the same last name and originally came from the same hometown which helped us find something to talk about to pass the time.

All in all, it made for a very pleasant waiting experience as almost all of the people sit and glare at each other. It also made up for the essentially genderless experience I had at the coffee shop when the interaction did not seem to go either way with the young girl who was waiting on me. I was friendly and she was friendly and we both went on our way. If I had my choice, I would have preferred that the barista in the coffee shop would have referred to me as “she” also, but at least she did not use the dreaded “he” pronoun when referring to me. Or even worse, “sir.”  Which would have ruined my morning for sure.

The nice thing about gender euphoria is that it lasts for a long time, and I feel all the work I put into being a transgender woman was worth it. It seemed, despite my best efforts, someone in public would break my feminine façade and call me by a male pronoun. Which brings up the worst thing about euphoria which is so fragile and can be broken in a moment. Then it takes weeks to build up again.

It took me years to realize the power of confidence in my transfeminine life. Sometimes, I felt as if I could rule the room in my high heels, and other times, I just wanted to be left alone and disappear. Probably the same as any other ciswoman felt. In fact, I could see it in the women I studied. Some walked into a room with all the confidence in the world, while others seemed to be so timid. Of course, I did my best to copy the assertive women who I secretly envied because their gender euphoria was so real.

For the longest time, before my ankles gave up, all I wore was high heels because I thought the shoes gave the woman a sense of power with women and men. I knew men were conditioned to look when they heard the click -click of heels coming towards them on a hard floor. Women, on the other hand were forced to respect the woman wearing the highest heels if they liked it or not. Euphoria or envy runs deep with ciswomen it seems. Sometimes it provides a major point of competition between women if they are competing for men, or just appearance.

I am spoiled to have two powerful gender allies around me almost all of the time. My wife Liz and daughter are always quick to provide the correct pronouns for me when a stranger struggles. That way, when the stranger struggles to find the correct pronouns, they always have a reminder, and I leave with my gender euphoria intact.

One way or another, gender euphoria is as real and powerful as dysphoria and often provides transgender women and trans men with a brief flicker of hope when our closet needs a light to keep going in a world which is increasingly hostile to us.

Hopefully, that is you and even if you experience negativity in the world while you are on your gender path. That light ahead is a green light and you can keep going. Always remember, a transgender journey if a marathon, not a race. You don’t always know what is around the next corner but gender euphoria can help you get there.

 

 

 

Tuesday, March 3, 2026

My Appointment Went Well

 

JJ Hart.

Today was my follow up appointment after my hospital visit with my Veteran’s Administration primary physician.

I have been going to the same clinic for nearly eight years now and have experienced many ups and downs in how I am treated by the staff and fellow patients. I started out with many negative stares and even bad comments from staff when they went out of their way to call me “Sir.” Almost to the point, I was ready to report on one lady who insisted on misgendering me to the higher ups. But, by the time I came back, she was no longer there.

Over time, I became accepted by everyone as my confidence continued to improve. So much so that today, I actually had the courage to sit down next to another woman who was there with her husband who happened to have the same last name as me. When he finished his appointment and came out into the waiting room, the woman I was talking to made a point of saying we had the same last name. The best part was when she said about me that “she” (me) had the same last name. I naturally loved the fact that she recognized me for who I really was.

Other than that, the appointment went well, and all the traces of the pneumonia I had were gone. Plus, all my current vitals were good and even after that point, I received a pneumonia vaccine and a new portable blood pressure machine I can use at home.

The only drawback to the entire morning was when I went to our favorite coffee shop when my appointment at the VA was over. The bad point was the drive through was closed for some reason and I needed to take my immobile self and go into the shop to order. They were struggling, but I was patient and stayed until the staff got my order right. While I was placing and picking up my order, I was not in a situation where I was gendered at all, so I escaped with a neutral in that visit and headed home with our breakfast and coffee.

All in all, I am happy that the visit to the VA went as well as it did and I think my next in-person appointment I have is the mammogram I needed to reschedule for April. Other than that I have the virtual VA appointments I regularly have scheduled, hopefully my calendar will continue to be clear.

 

Monday, March 2, 2026

Just Stay Out of My Lane

 

Image from Navid Solrabi
on UnSplash.

One of the many delights I encountered when I set out on my male to female femininization project was the amount of attention I was receiving from the ciswomen around me.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, I received very little attention from men, probably because I was not attractive enough. Even still, there were the occasional experiences when I let men into my lane out of pure curiosity. I wondered how it would be to be treated as a woman by a man on a date.

Curiously, my first date to dinner was from a lesbian who went on to transition into and live as a trans man. Later on when we talked, he always chided me about how scared I was that night. I never told him, but one of the reasons was I felt he could physically overpower me if he wanted to. One way or another, the evening was so different that I never forgot it.

Other men I ended upgoing out with in my exploration days mostly ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time to ever get serious. Take for example the big, bearded man who I grew close to after his ill-fated wedding to another exotic woman I knew. While others in the group we were a part of either shunned or made fun of him, I was the opposite, an understanding shoulder to talk to. It was so new and different to me and it felt so natural and good that I could react to a man that way. Before I knew it, he transferred out of town on his job, and I never saw him again.

The only other man of note that I enjoyed my self with was Bob, who I was able to go out with only one time because again I was in the wrong place at the wrong time to seriously get involved. Since he lived far away and was just traveling through where I lived in Ohio, we were able to set up a date in a regular sports bar I went to near Dayton, Ohio. Long story short, I let him in my lane and for the first time in my life felt like a woman on a date she enjoyed. We talked, laughed and he even sang karaoke to me. All too soon the magical night was over, and we went our separate ways after a long passionate kiss, never to meet in person again.

For some reason, I continued to be drawn to ciswomen, and them to me. I primarily think it was because most women were curious about me. What was I doing in their world and how different was I. Since women are fortunate to not have the sexuality hang ups men have, I found all but the most hard-core lesbian haters were intrigued by me. I think too, the honesty I portrayed in my life helped my appeal with the women I met who had encounters with men in their lives such as having kids. What worked for me was, I did not have to consider changing my sexuality around and I was used to the specific gender drama I would be facing with women, not men. Who of course I understood too but they did not want anything to do with me, so why bother. I was much more than a fetish object.

I was also having the time of my life as I escaped the extreme loneliness I was feeling after my wife passed away by going to lesbian mixers with my friends. I found that often I was the one doing the mixing as sometimes I was the one out of three of us who was hit on. I was in the lane I wanted to be in for sure. Plus, in many ways, I am still in that lane, as I formed a long-term relationship with one of the lesbians I met and we are still happily married to this day.

From my wife, I have been able to fill in many of the blanks I had in my gender workbook growing up as an unwilling boy. I learned not everything was pleasant as a young girl when I learned the reality of what went on in life with parents and friends. Not being allowed behind the gender curtain when I was young really took a toll on me. It took me years to catch up to what all cis women already knew, and they always made gentle fun of me and said welcome to our world. What they did not know was how badly I wanted to be in their lane.

Now that I have been in their lane for years, I have grown quite comfortable and confident in my surroundings. In fact, I feel as if I have spent my entire life here and most of my male life was a bad dream that I needed to live through to arrive at where I am today. And even though I struggled through much of my male existence, he still taught me how to be strong when I needed it. To maintain the strength to keep my lane the way I wanted it in a transfeminine world.

Even though I had many close calls and bumps and bruises along the way, my interactions with women and men let me choose the lane I wanted to be in. I consider myself to be fortunate in that I survived one of the most difficult transitions a human can undertake. Changing one’s gender is a basic human need and is never easy to change. Before you know it, you can find yourself in a bumper car-like zone and need to get out. I was especially successful when I finally chose my lane and stayed there. No more switching back and forth which was hard on my already fragile mental health. Plus, I felt good when I had the confidence to keep others out of my lane so I could experience it on my terms with no more blind curves and huge hills to climb.

 

Saturday, February 28, 2026

Innocent until Proven Guilty

 

JJ Hart


In many ways, this post is an extension of yesterday’s article. It involves the constant gender dance my second wife of twenty-five years and I had through in our marriage until she passed away.

Most of the problems occurred when I could not face the truth about myself. I was much more than a casual cross-dresser and just having the occasional chance to dress in front of the mirror in my feminine clothes was just not enough to satisfy my dreams of becoming a full-fledged transgender woman someday.  That was when I entered the most shameful time of my life when I like to say, I started to cheat on my wife with another woman who happened to be me.

As with most cheating episodes, mine became very complex. First, I started innocently enough with me taking short trips out of the house by walking around our neighborhood. When I got away with that, I started driving around as a trans woman to nearby cities where no one would know me. It was when I began to gather the courage to get out of my car and start exploring clothing stores, malls and book store to name a few. Before I knew it, I was hooked and I was having lunch on my own, just to see how successful I would be as a novice trans woman. Amazingly, I found the world was mostly nice to me and I kept experimenting. Which put me directly in the crosshairs of what I pledged to my wife. That I would never go out in public as a woman. She even went as far as letting me have the money to rent a motel room where I could dress and go out.

I even abused that privilege and still left the house on a regular basis. The problem that I had was removing all the traces of makeup that I was wearing when my wife was gone and I had to pass her strict inspection when she got home. Before long, regardless of how hard I tried to remove all my makeup, I was guilty until proven innocent. My wife knew I had been out, no matter how much I lied and tried to talk my way out of it.

Once I started seriously down my gender path to trans womanhood, I can confess I was never quite innocent. I would look for any opportunity to get out and about and improve my worth in the world as a woman. To be sure, I was not proud of what I was doing, but the whole process felt so natural that I just had to keep going and challenge myself to see what was around the next corner of my life. Even though the whole lifestyle change I was going through was so scary, it was also exciting and natural. As if something deep down inside of me knew I was on the right path.

As I always say, all of the lying and sneaking around took a tremendous toll on my mental health. All of my insecurities came to light when my normally honest life was torn apart by lying so much to my wife. I guess you could say too, for a while I was lying to the world about who I was too when I first started to go out in the world. I was guilty with strangers who did not know they were interacting with who I really was, not some sort of drag act. In fact, it took me several meetings with the same people to overcome that major obstacle in my life. The last thing I wanted back in those days was to be connected with any of the negative talk show press the cross-dresser transgender community was getting. Or even worse when we were being compared to someone who was up to no good by disguising themselves as a woman to commit a crime.  As a group back then, we were guilty until proven innocent.

I was fortunate in that I managed to purge my feminine self about six months before my wife died, so at least, I could do the right thing and honor my promise to her for a short time. For a number of reasons, it was the longest six months of my life.  It turned out when she passed, I would never have to consider purging again. Except when I made the major decision to finally give away all my male clothes for the last time. The best and most complete purge I ever made.

As I reached that point in my life, I vowed that honesty would always be the best policy and I would always be innocent until proven guilty. It turned out my inner hidden female had always thought the same thing and when she had the chance to see the light of day, she made a honest attempt to do the best she could to take the ball and run with it. When that corner had been turned, it was like I had been freed from a giant weight on my shoulders. I could breathe again and be fully proud of who I had become, a whole transfeminine person.

I can’t say it enough, the days and years of lying and deception on my part was totally my doing because I did not have the courage to face who I really was. I have no excuse for my cowardice except for my male self just did not want to give up what he worked so hard to obtain.

Certainly, I would not wish any of the gender turmoil I went through on my worst enemy and if the politicians who keep passing the anti-transgender bills across the country had to walk a mile in our shoes, they may have a whole different understanding of what we transgender women and trans men face on a daily basis. Then we would be judged to be innocent until proven guilty, which we rarely are.

 

 

Friday, February 27, 2026

The Dream was Never Out of Sight

 

Image from Egor
Vikrev on UnSplash

On occasion, I write about my ultimate dream of someday living as a fulltime transgender woman. As is the case with any dream, making it a reality is often very difficult, and it forever remains a dream. The main problem I had was having the confidence to move ahead on my seemingly endless gender path. Somedays, it was like I was walking on air in my high heels and others, it was like I was walking through quicksand. I would be confidently clicking away in my heels until I hit an unseen crack in the sidewalk and almost broke my ankle, which was a prime example of my life at the time.

Even on the days when I was doing my best impression of a linebacker in heels, I tried to keep my head up and look to the future. Hoping for a better day when I could do a better job of presenting in the world as my dream woman. Growing up in my male life, I was accused continually by my parents of never finishing a task. It turned out, working towards my dream of crossing the gender border was the first real project I never quit on. Take my use of makeup for example, I would not rest and kept experimenting until I got it right. I became so good that my second wife would break down and ask me for advice on how to do her makeup. I don’t think she ever knew most of my makeup knowledge came from the night I gathered the courage to take off my wig and makeup and have a true professional redo my face and more importantly explain to me what he was doing as he did it.

Those were my shallow days of thinking being a transgender woman just meant looking like one. As I was told many times by my second wife, I made a terrible woman because I had not paid my dues to achieve my own womanhood. The whole process set my dreams way behind because there was little to no way of me sliding behind the gender curtain to gain the right to play in the girls’ sandbox. How could I ever achieve my dream, if no one would let me in was the frustrating question which I had over and over again. In the meantime, I was stuck cross-dressing in front of the mirror and keeping my dreams alive and knowing deep down someday I would achieve my own unique transfeminine womanhood.

The main problem I had was gaining the confidence I needed to keep my dream alive because deep down I had doubts about whether I could ever make it. Because at the time, all I had were the annual Halloween parties I went to. Even the parties were a struggle on occasion as I needed to figure out my “costume.” I went from thinking that sexy was the way to go, all the way to trying to fool the other attendees into thinking I was a ciswoman who just got off of work. By the time several Halloweens had rolled by, I had achieved my dream of being mistaken for a woman but then was faced with the dreaded what then? Looking ahead at waiting another year for a costume party was unbearable and damaged my dreams of trans womanhood. I knew from my party results I was becoming tantalizing closer to my dreams but getting there still seemed like they were miles away.

As I finally began to leave my mirror and gender closet and explore the world, I began to understand what my wife was trying to tell me. I was a terrible woman out of ignorance as I tried to mold an entirely new person. All I had to work with was my appearance which was just skin deep when I needed to communicate with mainly ciswomen in their world for the first time. For my “sandbox” I chose the bar scene which I was used to and provided me with many unique situations. Many of which I don’t recommend. Along the way, I found myself as a single woman in a bar attracting unwanted attention until I built a group of friends to mingle with. Fortunately, the vast majority of those people who wanted to interact with me were women, so I did not have to worry about a bunch of drunk toxic men.

As I survived this stage of my life successfully, it was time to seriously consider where I would go next. Would I stay where I was at, afraid to go any farther, or would I be brave and take the next step which would be HRT or gender affirming hormones. Following much thought, I decided to seek the HRT path by going to a doctor. By doing so, I discovered what a huge portion of my life I was missing. My body took to the hormones so naturally that I felt I should have been on them my whole life. Just another indication to me of how close my gender dream had always been. I just needed to reach out and grab it.

Perhaps, you may have a similar dream for your life. Mine turned out to be a single-minded pursuit of me wanting to cast aside being a man and start being a woman. Regardless, the way I did it could be different from yours. I chose a “stairstep” method of my male to female femininization process. What I mean is, every time I was successful at one level of my transition, I needed to choose another gender project. If I wasn’t shopping for that new favorite outfit, I needed to figure out where I was going to wear it, is an example.

When I finally made it to the point of being able to live my dream, I certainly had paid my dues and had a lot of help from friends to therapy. They all helped to lift me from being a so-called terrible woman into a well rounded trans woman living her dream which was never far out of sight.

 

Thursday, February 26, 2026

Honesty was Always the Best Policy

 

Image from Jon Tyson on 
UnSplash. 

Very early on in my life, I thought my default mechanism to anyone challenging my masculinity would be to lie about it. Fortunately, I did not have to take that route often because of all the elaborate ways I utilized to hide my feminine desires. Examples were the times I was competing in sports or working on cars. People close to me just assumed I was a “normal” male.

It wasn’t until much later in life when I began to get serious about dating women, did honesty become a real priority when it came to explaining my life. My first experience with telling a woman I was serious about, has been relayed several times here as recently as in the last several days. She is the one I coerced into dressing me head to toe as a woman which was the first time a ciswoman had attempted to do it for me. The whole plan turned out to be a disaster because of so many things. As I have mentioned before, I just wasn’t that impressed with the outcome she presented to me as she applied my makeup and the long blond wig I so desperately wanted. By then, I had spent years doing my own makeup and I thought I did a better job.

Little did I know that disappointment would only be the beginning of many with her. Being honest in our relationship early on led to an engagement but then a total break up because of a date I had with Uncle Sam and the Vietnam War. Rather than support me as I served, my then fiancé insisted I tell the draft board and the world I was gay to try to not get drafted which would have been a total lie. I knew I was a cross dresser but also had a pretty good idea I was not gay. Instead of wrecking my personal life as I knew it, we broke the engagement and went on our not so merry ways. I knew where I was headed, the US Army for three years. It was not the most pleasant time I ever spent in my life, but at least I was honest with myself.

Time went by in the Army until I found myself in a place to exercise some of my cross-dressing desires by going to a hospital Halloween party I was invited to by friends. By doing so, I through caution to the wind and decided to go all out dressed as a woman. I only had about eight months or so to go in the Army, so I was willing to risk getting in trouble to satisfy my need to cross-dress after such a long time of being denied.

All three of my closest friends that I socialized with all the time were at the party too, and as luck would have it, several weeks later, the subject of our “costumes” came up after a long night of enjoying very good German beer. When my turn came to talk about how I had went to all the effort to femininize myself for one night (including shaving my legs), I finally just was honest with my friends and told them I was a transvestite and the Halloween party was far from being just a one night deal of seeing what it would be like to dress as a woman. It was the first time I had ever admitted to anyone that I had a fondness for being a woman, so it was quite the liberating experience.

It was also a far-reaching experience because included in my group of friends was a woman who I got to know quite well. So, well in fact that later on we went on to be married and she became the mother of my only daughter who I cherish to this day and is one of my biggest supporters. Obviously, from day one in our relationship, she was aware of my feminine desires and accepted them.

Much of the same happened with my second wife, who was much more strong willed than wife number one. Even so, I felt honesty was the best policy and I nervously told her again I was a transvestite or cross-dresser before we were married. Ironically, the problem came with me not cheating on her with myself. What I was increasingly doing was doing exactly what I had sworn not to do. Leave the house dressed as a woman. By doing so, I broke one of the main bonds of our marriage which was not lying to her about what I was doing all the time.

Needless to say, like any other ciswoman, my second wife had keen instincts of what I was doing and was constantly on the outlook for things like extra forgotten makeup on my face when I was out and about as a novice trans woman. Since I prided myself in the rest of my life on my honesty, the constant lying I was doing to the woman I loved broke my heart. Especially when I could not stop doing it.

My heart was further shattered when she passed away quite unexpectedly from a massive heart attack and I was on my own after twenty-five years of marriage. The only redeeming thing I did was completely purge my feminine side for six months before she died. Even to the point of growing a beard. It was the only thing I could do to try to redeem myself.

Ironically, her death forced open the biggest door to my honesty there was, being honest with myself. When I looked deep, I found that all along I had been just wasting my time trying to be a man with all the privilege that came with it. I had learned to play the male game effectively but did not want any thing to do with my gender prizes after I won them. Being honest with myself for a change was the best feeling of all except I did feel guilty about all the stress and tension I had put others through because of my inner weakness. Total honesty certainly would have been the best policy in my life.

 

 

 

 

Gender Gatekeepers in the Way?

  Image from UnSplash Perhaps you have gender gatekeepers blocking your gender transformation . It is often a hot button issue for people...