Looking Both Ways at Stop Signs on my Gender Path

 

Image from Alex Azerbache
on UnSplash.

I learned the hard way; I needed to look carefully both ways when crossing my gender path from male to female. If I did not, I ran the risk of being caught in the wild world of everyday traffic around me. When I left my mirror for the first time, gathered all my courage and went out into the world, I discovered basically three groups of people.

By far, the biggest group I didn’t need to pay much attention to were all the people who were going about their lives and not needing to notice anyone else. The second group was smaller and mostly just curious. They were mostly women and were curious why a man would leave a life of privilege to want to live as a woman. Or at least try to look like one. Sadly, the most vocal of the three groups were the gender bigots, TERFS (cis women who hate trans women and want to deny our existence) or just plain haters who wanted to make my business theirs. I learned the hard way several times to take nothing for granted when I went out in the world and look both ways at stop signs on my gender path.

I also learned the hard way that no matter how good I thought I looked and moved on a certain day, someone would always see through my efforts to be a presentable transgender woman and take exception with it. Some were mean and wanted to make fun of me, and some were not but I always had to be aware of the possibility of ill-will coming my way. I needed to come to a full stop until the unpleasantness went away, and I could go about living the new life as a transfeminine person I felt so comfortable in. When my confidence began to grow to a point where I could navigate most of the public comfortably, I did not care what the occasional gender bigot thought, and my confidence turned out to be my biggest weapon against hatred against me. It was tough to do, because the confidence was so frail but somehow, I was able to do it as I became more effective in my feminine presentation skills.

It probably was because this was the time of my life when I was obsessed with every little aspect of my appearance as a woman. Every now and then, I take the time to go back and read some of my earliest posts and I am continually amazed about appearance centric my writings were woven around. Just the right amount of makeup and how I did my eyes, all the way to just the right accessories to go with my outfits were prime examples of what I was writing about. It was no wonder that my second wife delighted in calling me the “pretty, pretty princess” when she told me I knew nothing about being a woman.

Rather than discourage me, her comments spurred me on to try to figure out what she meant. All along I thought I was the ultimate student of the ciswomen around me, only to learn I had not yet scratched the surface of what I needed to learn to earn myself a spot in the girls’ sandbox. Looking back, I do think my expertise in making my feminine appearance better did help me because for the most part (except for my wife) most ciswomen knew I was serious in my journey to be let behind the gender curtain as I needed to stop on my gender path, look both ways for ciswomen, let them through and then move ahead on my own. And by the way, the “princess” got her revenge one night when my wife needed to ask for advice on which makeup to wear.

When I finally was allowed to play in the girls’ sandbox, the stop signs I routinely faced really began to multiply. I had gone the extra distance to lead my inner feminine trans person out of the mirror and into the world by doing a deep dive into the basics of makeup and appearance all the way to working diligently on my feminine movements so I would not look like a linebacker in drag in heels at the mall. All my efforts worked out so well that the world wanted to communicate with me. Which put me into shock because I was woefully short on any experience to do it. All I had ever done was speak very briefly with cashiers and was not prepared to carry on any sort of a conversation.

All I did know was ciswomen communicate on a different wavelength than men and I needed quickly to find out what it was and how to do it, so I could survive my next stop sign. Surprisingly, I was a quick learner and mimicked the women around me the best I could until I became semi-comfortable in conversations with them. Primarily, I learned that for the first time in my life I needed to listen closely to what another woman was telling me because she could be talking in feminine “tongues.” In other words, I learned ciswomen use a lot of nonverbal communication when they don’t want men to know what they are talking about and use a lot of passive aggressive words when they communicate. When I stopped at the verbal stop sign, I needed to use extra caution to make sure a smiling face was not hiding behind my back aggression when we interacted.

I survived my communication days partially from taking feminine vocal lessons which specifically helped me to use terms which were more feminine in nature and not so male orientated. Which I was used to. I said I was a quick learner, but learning fast was all I could do to survive in the new feminine world I loved so much. I found myself immersed in a labor of love that I wanted more and more of every night that I spent interacting socially with my ciswomen friends. It was like I was back in grade school again learning the basics of being a quality feminine person.

From then on out, the only stop signs I saw were the ones I learned on my new path with women to stop at which they had done their whole lives and I was making up for in my own way quickly. The “pretty, pretty princess” had grown up, but sadly my second wife missed my progress when she tragically passed away early in life from a massive heart attack. I don’t think we could have ever stayed together. Being friends on the other hand was probably a possibility because we were together for twenty-five years of our lives. It will be forever one of the mysteries I will never solve. A giant stop sign.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being Hyper Focused as a Trans Girl

 

Image from Maxim Tolinisky 
on UnSplash.

As I followed my path into transgender womanhood, I found several times that I was too focused on my goal of presenting successfully as a woman when I went out and tried to join the world.

Essentially, what I mean is I was trying too hard to mimic the way ciswomen look and how they move about in the world. I had not yet had the time out in the world to develop the muscle memory I needed to be at my best with others. I so badly did not want to slip back into my old male ways and look like a linebacker in drag in high heels in the mall. In the meantime, I was spending every spare moment I had by myself to try to practice my best feminine walk.

The problem became when I was practicing too much and forgot where I was. Looking feminine in the least at work would not have been good for my macho career. I did the best I could with the time I had to work with just was not enough to create the habits I needed to progress the way I wanted to towards my transfeminine dream. Every time I went out, I would do something wrong and destroy the image of being female that I was trying to portray. If I had my makeup, clothes and hair to a point where I was satisfied, something would come along like catching one of my heels in a sidewalk crack to hurt me. I was very frustrated at the time until I finally began to relax and began to enjoy the new world I so badly wanted to be part of. As I did it though, I was totally surprised at how complex the entire scope of what I wanted to do as a potential successful trans woman would be. My life was like one of those huge “Bloomin Onions” you get at steakhouses. Every time you peel back a layer, you find another layer to surprise you.

As it turned out, at the time I was peeling back more gender layers much quicker than I had ever imagined. I was dodging all the stop signs that I thought I would have and was able to look around my world and enjoy what I saw. Most importantly, I was becoming the me I always wanted or destined to be. Again, I was being blindsided in that I would have to go through yet another transition as my life was coming full circle. I was not becoming someone different at all. I was just becoming me.

The one remaining aspect of my transgender being I did have to remain hyper focused on was when I began in depth communication with other women. I was always paranoid that I would give away too much of my old male past when I was talking with another woman. I worked so hard to be in the world as I was, I did not want to out myself as an intruder. Quickly, I made strides to learn the different way ciswomen communicate that men just don’t understand such as non-verbal cues about danger and happiness. All the way to the power of passive aggression that women use so effectively. To aid in my efforts, I even took feminine vocal lessons to learn key terminology I would need to complete my communication efforts in the world.

As I followed this new direction on my gender path, I did slide back into being hyper focused in my quest to be me. I was intently watching all my new ciswomen friends to see how they lived their lives and how I could fit in. In essence, the new me needed a new place to live and they gave it to me without ever realizing what they were doing because they took their lives behind the feminine gender curtain for granted and I never could. And still don’t to this day since I spent so long trying my best in the dark to get there. I guess I was paying my dues as I learned what my second wife meant when she called me a terrible woman. Back then I was, but I did not want to make that mistake again. So, I became hyper focused on a new goal…earning a spot behind the gender curtain.

My confusion set in because I learned early in life what it took to survive behind the male gender curtain, but I had no clue at all what it would take to survive as a trans woman. Because I knew I would never be able to have such life altering experiences such as carrying and birthing a child such as ciswomen have but on the other hand, I still had a very unique way to my womanhood which still counted. I just had to wait and earn my way back to being me. Furthermore, I did not want to completely throw away everything that I learned for fifty years living in a man’s world. I just wanted to take the building blocks I learned and use them so I would be able to be a quality transfeminine “me” person and never be told again I made a terrible woman. If I was “making” anything from scratch, I wanted it to be presentable to the world.

Once I was able to stop being hyper focused on my early experiences with makeup, hair and appearance, reality in the world set in which meant I would have a chance to live my dream of throwing out or giving away all my male clothes and starting all over again. I hope being a hyper blend of the two main gender binaries helped me along once I finally sensed the true path I wanted to be on.

The ups and downs of life on the journey I took was never easy, but worth it when I made it to the surprise location I was heading for that I never realized. All along, I was just focused on being me.

 

Staying Calm as a Trans Person

 

Image from Matteo Vistocco
on UnSplash.

Many times, during our lives as transgender women and transgender men, staying calm in the face of adversity is not easy.

Perhaps the worst time I had staying calm ever in my life came fairly early on when I encountered a hostile, aggressive woman in a rest room I was simply using to pee. It all happened by accident when I was looking at the door of the women’s room at a venue where I normally had no problems, so I could judge when the room would be empty and safer to use. I had judged correctly, and the room was empty when I entered it and I had my choice of stalls. As I finished the business I came for, I left the stall and started to wash my hands when this woman burst through the door and started calling me a pervert, My first reaction was shock because I had never had any problems before from the staff when I used the woman’s room in that venue. Then, I became angry that this woman who was a total stranger to me was calling me a pervert.

My mind was turning quickly as I fought to stay calm and say something to the angry woman who was completely out of control and fortunately, she gave me the insight to do it. Somehow, in our brief conversation, I got out of her what she did for a living, and she said she owned her own beauty parlor. When she did, I asked her for a card so I could report her business to the very strong and influential LGBTQ organization in town during those days. I never got her card as she turned around and stomped out of the restroom, and I only saw her one more time walking past me in the venue. I glared at her as she refused to even make eye contact with me. So, at that moment staying calm (no matter how hard it was) worked for me.

It is my opinion that the ability to stay calm mainly comes from having confidence in yourself. Normally from years of interaction with the public as your authentic transfeminine self. Like anything else, confidence is very fragile and can be destroyed at any time as you advance up your gender path. You might think you have done the best makeup job ever and was able to find a comfortable outfit which really flattered you, only to find out it did not and you needed to go back home and try again to reset your confidence. There would have been no way early in my life that I could have ever survived the bus tour vacations that my wife Liz took me on where I needed to interact with many different ciswomen on the trip and get along with them in all the restrooms we encountered.

After I enhanced my feminine appearance and attitude with the HRT or gender affirming hormones I was approved for, I discovered a new calmness I had never known before in my life. Which probably came from the hormones themselves, and the fact I was no longer battling being something I just wasn’t. I had achieved all the male accolades and benefits I had ever dreamed of but then did not want them. And I was surprisingly calm when they all went away, never to return again.

Another big surprise was how calm I stayed when I was making more gender transitions in my life into my own form of transgender womanhood. I negotiated all the phases such as being terrified on occasion when I tried out new venues, all the way to when I was making several unexpected transitions, I did not see coming. Even though, I knew what was coming if I was able to survive or even be successful when I went out for the first time at “Fridays” to mingle with ciswomen just getting off of work at a nearby mall, I knew I could never go back to believing I was some sort of a weekend cross-dresser who wore women’s clothes as a hobby. It all was an extreme revelation to me, and I had a very difficult time staying calm through my whole adventure.

On the other hand, staying calm was much more difficult when it came to how fast I was being accepted in my desire to carve out my own transfeminine life. The public was accepting me way too fast and challenged my life and communication skills that I was always putting off. All my procrastination did me no good as the world came crashing in around me and I needed to do things such as feminine vocal lessons to catch up. Thankfully, the world gave me the chance to catch up and again I return to the new calmness I was feeling. These were the days when I was learning almost daily what I would need to do to survive as a trans woman in a sometimes-hostile world. Obviously, I did not want to be called a pervert again for simply wanting to pee. Perhaps I paid my dues, because nothing remotely coming close to that ever happened to me again.

Perhaps also, I am not giving the impact of the HRT hormones enough credit. Even with the minimum dosage I began with, I could feel substantial changes in how I viewed the world. The hormones simply took my male edge off and mellowed me right out like I had always been destined to take them.

Over the years, I have learned to try to separate the always present anxiety I feel about everyday life from the new calmness I have developed over the years. Which in turn has helped my fragile mental health. Which has been quite an accomplishment. Hopefully wherever you live, the anti-transgender pendulum has begun to swing back the other way for you. Even here in Republican led backwards Ohio where I am from, the leading anti-trans bigot in the legislature has his own problems after news surfaced of him being in bed with an underaged girl. Sounds familiar. Right?

Maybe the future is not so dim after all since the world is waking up to the fact that the transgender population is not the problem after all and the rest of the population needs to stay calm around us.

 

 

 

 

 

Pressure Tested as a Trans Woman

 

Image from Jayson Hendrickson
on UnSplash. 

As I moved along in life, I became pressure tested on both sides of the gender border.

On the male side, I became embroiled with restaurant jobs which involved immense amounts of pressure to succeed and on my female side, I felt the same pressure to succeed when I was finally able to leave my mirror and enter the world. For the most part succeeding as a male meant more financial rewards, while the success as a transfeminine person meant more inner freedom to express myself.

Ironically, my success as a novice cross-dresser or transgender woman often came at the expense of my male self when he failed at a project in life and came running back to dresses and makeup for comfort. Even that became old though when my trans woman kept increasing the stakes in the basic battle to just be seen in public. She wanted more than the easy trips to women’s clothing stores where money was more important than gender. As she began to interact more completely in the world, the pressure to be tested time and time again increased dramatically. Especially when she had to do more than try to communicate with more than a simple “Hello” or “Thank You.” For the longest time, I was panicked and very insecure about holding any sort of a conversation with another person, woman or man.

The way I relieved the pressure of communication was simply tied to doing it over and over again until it became as natural to me as possible. I learned from my feminine vocal lessons, it was not as much about what you were saying as how you were saying it. And how I could interject little feminine vocal patterns into my speech, even though I still had a deeper voice than most women. I say most women because I immediately began to notice a few ciswomen who had lower voices but still managed to communicate in the world with no problems. All because they had the benefit of growing up around other women. As I said, the only way around my communication potential problem was to hitch up my big girl panties and begin to communicate with the world. Which in some cases was one of the last frontiers I needed to face as I climbed out of my mirror and into the world as a trans woman.

I discovered I did not really know any pressure on my initial excursions as a feminine person until the time came to use the restroom. Initially, I was very intimidated and made sure I waited until “the room” was empty before I snuck in to use it until I began to build some confidence in myself. When I did, I began to learn restroom basics such as making sure I took the time to smile and interact with any other women I may encounter. The exact opposite than what I was used to in any men’s room I used. Since I was not using the women’s room as any sort of a fun test just to prove I could, I needed to learn as much as I could about other women because of a natural need to do so. I did things such as trying to mimic the sound of “flow” when I went to the woman close in the stall next to me and of course, I needed to remember to look for toilet paper, hang my purse up and always, always stop to wash my hands as I examined my hair and makeup in the mirror. No matter how much of a hurry I was to get out of there.

Surviving the restroom wars gave me the confidence to lose some of the pressure I felt as I entered the world for the first time as a transgender woman. From there I could move on to bigger and better things such as being recognized as a regular in the selected venues I wanted to go to. When I did, I knew I would have the backing of the staff if and when I was approached by a gender bigot or TERF (ciswoman bigot) about what I was doing there at all. In fact, I think I became the token trans woman at several venues who were proud of their diversity and safely for the LGBTQ community.

If I was a more intelligent person in math, maybe I could come up with a quotient relating to how pressure relates to confidence, but I cannot. I am stuck just trying to explain what it meant to me and what it might mean to you if you are considering a gender journey such as mine. The easiest way to describe it is that it is an intensely personal journey that is often lonely and full of self-sacrifice. Which could also describe why the path or journey is so full of pressure to succeed in so many different ways. I say that because I learned on my path that there were so many different ways to achieve my dream of living the way I wanted to as a fully functional transfeminine person. Primarily I learned I did not have to be the most attractive woman in the room to be accepted. Maybe I could make it on my personality. Which is exactly what many ciswomen do.

When the pressure was off, the pleasure set in for me and I could begin to refine who I wanted to be as I pursued a rare second chance in life to rebuild myself in the image I had always dreamed of. I was fortunate when I found the right people, cis women, to help me along in ways they never knew as I filled out the little nuances of my gender workbook. As I always say, I had no idea of how many layers women have to go through other than men just to live their life.

I don’t think I had a choice in my life to not live the pressurized existence that I lived. It was all built into the path I chose to take, and I grew used to it. As a transgender woman, often it seemed I had more than my fair share of pressure to deal with. That is why as a tribe, trans women and trans men have proved to be very resilient over the time we have populated the world. Regardless of what haters and bigots think.

 

 

I Had to do Something Right

 

Image from Mark Farias on Unsplash 

In my dark days of confusing cross-dressing, I vaguely knew I was doing something right. Or at least I thought so because I could not wait to try it again.

Looking back, it was the brief moments of gender euphoria which clouded all my doubts about my gender and kept me going. Even through the nights when I was the laughingstock of teen girls in malls, a little voice kept telling me to keep going and eventually I would improve my overall feminine presentation so that I would blend in and not get noticed. Along the way, I even needed to lower the expectations I was putting on myself to keep going. I was never going to be the most attractive woman in the room, but at least I could still be like most ciswomen I saw and live a decent life. Even though I started to feel this way, I never gave up the idea I could do better with my makeup, fashion and hair so I could survive. Simply because I was enjoying the experience so much.

Later on in my life, doing something right extended to my interaction with the world as a novice transgender woman. I was surprised when I attracted more attention from ciswomen than men and just thought they were curious about me and were welcoming me into their worlds, while men were just the opposite. Most resented the fact I was leaving all of the male privilege behind (along with the good old boys’ club) and moving to the other side of the gender border. I did not care because my need for companionship was being satisfied and I had always gotten along with women easier than men most of my life. Increasingly I found I never wanted to go back to the male life I was attached to by a spouse, family, friends and jobs. It seemed the longer I waited, the more male baggage I was building up when I really did not want to.

The next problem I ran into was the impostor syndrome I was feeling. Specifically on the girls’ nights outs I was invited to. It never failed that right in the middle of me enjoying the evening, I had suspicions sneaking up on me that I did not belong there at all. I was an impostor in a scene made up of women who had worked their entire life to get there. It took me awhile to come to the conclusion that I had worked my entire life also to make it to my own version of womanhood, and I deserved as much as the next woman to be attending. Fortunately, I received very little negative feedback from other women attending the get-together, so I did not have to face my impostor syndrome at all. I was doing something right for a change to even be invited to such special women only events.

I was able to take my experiences with girls’ nights out to my everyday life primarily because it built my confidence as a transfeminine person so much. With my newfound feelings, I worked even harder on my makeup, fashion and hair to appear more feminine than ever before. Primarily, I learned the power of contouring and colors on my face from professional makeup artists I met at the cross dresser-transgender social mixers I went to. One in particular, took the time to explain what he was doing in terms I could understand and repeat on my own. It was a powerful experience when I had to set my makeup ego aside and learn better results from a professional. From that point on I worked on taking weight off, so I had a better opportunity to find and buy more fashions that flattered my male figure at the many thrifts stores I frequented. When I arrived at that point, the problem then became getting out of the mirror and started putting my new improved feminine self into motion in the world. It proved to be the most difficult part of me doing something right.

Suddenly I had to consider how I was moving as I tried to mimic the unique way ciswomen move and put all my male linebacker moves behind me along with the scowl on my face I was used to wearing as my male defense mechanism. And the most difficult issue of all was learning to communicate one on one as a woman. I knew with certainty I would have issues with my communication, but not to the point that I did. I even went to the extent of taking vocal classes to improve my feminine basics and be able to talk easier in the world with women and men. It just made sense to do if I was continuing to do something right.

It turned out, the more I did right and received positive feedback, the more I wanted to do to refine my feminine approach as a transgender woman. Because I always had the belief, I needed to be better than the average ciswoman to just survive behind the gender curtain. When I was just trying to do something right, on occasion I paused to reflect on how far I had come along my gender path to arrive where I was. I did remember that scared little boy dressed in his mom’s clothes in front of the family’s hallway mirror, wondering what was next. For the most part, back in those days, there was very little to let the young boy know he was doing anything right.

Somehow, I survived all the negative feedback and impostor syndrome problems and continued forward to a better world. One I wanted to be in and dreamed of my entire life. As I love to say, as with any woman, I needed to socialize myself into the world. Being born female does not automatically make you a woman, you must learn to be one. The same was true for me. I just took a radically different path to earn my womanhood. I needed to do many things right to arrive at my dream.

 

 

 

 

Making the New You...You

 

JJ Hart

Making the new you… you probably know is a lot more than putting on a dress, wig and makeup.

Most of the time, it takes time to grow into what you always had thought yourself to be all along. A fully feminine person. By that, I don’t mean you have to go out and have major gender surgeries to feel complete although many transgender women do. In my case and at my advanced age of seventy-six, I have long since given up on gender surgeries because they don’t define me. But that is like HRT or gender affirming hormones, just because you can’t take them does not make you any less of a transfeminine person.

Going back to my original point, I think it is important that we take the time and opportunity to grow into our new authentic selves which have been a part of us forever. I know forever is a big word which people like me have run from our entire lives. It is especially frustrating when you discover the truth has been right in front of you forever. Instead, I took the long route or path of slowly discovering I could indeed make it to my dream of living life as a transgender woman. I had to go back and back fill my entire personality and outlook on life to do it.

In the book I am writing through another format for my daughter and other family members who have questions about my life. This week’s topic is what I would do differently if I had a chance to go back and do it again. It was an easy question to answer; I would certainly go back and transitioned earlier in life than I did. The problem I have with thinking this way is I am selfish and I would want certain aspects of my male life to live themselves out before I made the big gender jump across the border for good. For instance, I would hate to give up my stake in having my daughter who is one of the greatest gifts of my life. Plus, you can’t forget the world and its reaction to transfeminine people was much different back then and if I transitioned then I would consider surgeries to advance my standing in an often-unforgiving world. Chances are, I would, simply because I had so much longer to live.

It would have been interesting because back then, I had such little understanding of what I was really facing if I continued along my gender path. I was still laboring under the impression that a pretty face would be all I needed to get by as a trans woman. There was still so much to do to enable the authentic me to emerge into the world. What would I do when and if I needed to have the pretty face actually communicate in the world with other humans. I had come to the point where I could make her move more convincingly as a woman, now I had the biggest jump to make. I did the best I could. Even to the point of taking vocal lessons on the small ways ciswomen communicate with the world. The entire process was intense but worth it.

The only way I made it through the rebuilding process was to make it a completely selfish pursuit which I spent every spare moment thinking about. My male time in life shrunk to a bare minimum, or just enough time to get by and keep him moving on the essentials of life such as a job.

On the feminine side, I found I had help from understanding ciswomen that accepted me. I write about them often. Emphasizing their warmth and humor when at the same time were the best gender teachers I could have ever asked for. Together, they all helped the new me be me and move on from there.

From there meant I could begin to attend “meet up” groups in the Cincinnati area with my wife to be Liz. We went to writers’ groups as well as artisan/crafts groups which helped me to come farther out of my gender shell and just be the new me. If you live in an area which has groups such as meet ups, I highly recommend them as vehicles to experience new vistas of your gender experience. I always looked at them as a way to expand who I was in the world as I shed my old male past. Which led one step farther into a spiritual group which Liz was already a part of. I was invited in with open arms which gave me yet another new outlet to experience.

Making the new you, you will never be an easy experience depending on how much gender baggage you had to shed along the way. The longer I waited, the more I had to figure out what to keep and what I needed to get rid of. Whichever way you decide to go, just try to make the best possible decisions and keep moving towards your dream. Just think, your whole journey could be a labor of love.

 

 

Stopping was Impossible

 

Image from Edward Howell
on UnSplash.

For years as I followed my early cross-dressing path, I labored under the impression that someday I could actually stop and return to my male existence. Of course, the older I became I learned that stopping was going to be nearly impossible. The reason being, when I was forced out of the mirror and into the world, I began to have success.

To me, success was measured in the public reaction I received. Very early on I suffered scorn when I went out without the knowledge to blend in with other ciswomen. When I became successful, it took so much pressure off and stopping became less and less an option. Mainly because something clicked in my head that I did not want to ever go back which was different than wanting to. For example, there was the night at TGIF Fridays when I went into the venue with the mindset, I actually wanted to be a woman with other women, not some sort of an impostor. When it happened, I knew for sure stopping was never going to be an option again. I was firmly on the path to achieving my dream of possibly living fulltime as a transgender woman.

The more I decided not to stop, the quicker the pressure mounted on me on what to do with my old male life. He had dug in deep and was refusing to go away easily. The worst part was he made good arguments such as what was I going to do about my spouse, family and employment. Just as a start. What did I do? I continued to internalize my inner woman and keep researching my future. Since my gender workbook was blank, I had a long way to go. Primarily when I needed to learn how to communicate one on one with other women when I was exceedingly shy to start with. To arrive there, I went to excess of taking feminine vocal lessons to attempt to learn to communicate better. As I was slowly succeeding in my efforts, again I knew for sure I could never go back.

Another main thing I learned was that I needed to control my emotions, not let them control me. Or when I hit the valleys of my journey (which there would be many), I had to pick myself up from being a failure and continually go back to my gender drawing board to figure out what I was doing wrong. I knew I had a testosterone poisoned body. I needed to work around but I dedicated myself to somehow doing it. I discovered from all the trips I was making to thrift stores; I could find the fashion I needed to make myself look the best I could under the circumstances I was working with. It all added up in my mind to I could never stop.

Along this way too, I quit purging for good. I had learned my lesson about the previous purges I had attempted. The lesson was, I could never go back to my old male self again. I was tired of throwing out all my hard-earned clothes, shoes and makeup only to have to replace it all again as soon as a month later.

What helped me was, I was learning over and over again how wrong I was fighting my instincts to be a transfeminine person at all. I always point out how wrong I was when I was fighting my true feminine self at all. I suffered from the brutal pressure I put on myself. So, stopping my transgender advance was never an option. I should never have waited as long as I did to go after my gender dreams.

I was fortunate that my basic personality never lent itself to stopping my search for my dreams. All my life, all I wanted to be was a woman and I just could never visualize myself not working hard to achieve my goal. I just never in a million years understood how difficult it would be for me to do it. I should have listened to my wife when she tried to tell me I was on the wrong path to achieving my goal. In a way, I did but not nearly enough until I did not stop until I was allowed to exist behind the gender curtain. Once I got there, stopping was never going to be an option again.

Then HRT and new feminine hormones shifted my mental thinking to match my external appearance which was improving all along. I never expected the changes to be so dramatic so quickly. I am glad stopping my male to female feminine transition was never a reasonable option.

 

Gender Euphoria equals Black Friday Fun

 

Image from Markus Winkler
on UnSplash.

Yesterday’s Thanksgiving feast at my daughter’s -in-laws proved to be everything I thought it would be.

To begin with, all the usual suspects were there, including my trans grandchild who drove back from Maine with their partner for the dinner. Of course, my daughter and son-in-law were there also, with my first wife who I remain friends with today. Even though she slips up on occasion and calls me by my dead name. I forgive her because she is the mother of my only child and is getting a little forgetful in her old age. As I am.

To be surrounded by family who knew me before and to be accepted the way I was, always means a lot to me. Giving me a family to fall back on when my blood family rejected me, which I wrote about in my last post. I have never forgiven them for what they did and have kept my distance for over a decade now. If you missed my post, my bitterness stems from when my brother and sister-in-law asked me not to come to our Thanksgiving dinner when I came out to them as transgender.

As I have mentioned several times, my new chosen family has more than made up for my blood family loss. Especially in times such as yesterday when I am supplied with plenty of gender euphoria. Which brings me to the second part of this post, my first “Black Friday” shopping experience as a transgender woman.

The whole “Black Friday” woman’s shopping experience was always one I wanted to experience on my own as a transfeminine person and finally I had the chance because my second wife worked retail and would be busy. I knew if I played my cards right, I could set my work schedule up so I did not have to be at work until later in the afternoon, so I could pull my dream off. I knew what I was going to wear and knew where I was going to wear it, so I was set for an early morning departure as I pulled up my panty hose and picked out a big fluffy sweater, mini denim skirt and comfortable walking shoes. Just in case I could not find a close spot in the parking lot at the mall I chose.

As I found a parking spot and entered the crowded mall, I could not believe I was living out one of the big bucket list items on my gender dream. I was actually shopping for Christmas bargains with many other ciswomen who were oblivious to having a trans woman among them. The only problem I had was time. I did not have very much of it before I needed to head home and get ready for work in my old boring male clothes. Even still, I managed to walk away from the experience with the knowledge I could, indeed, make it in the public’s eye as a woman going about her everyday life.

Little did I know, my experience on “Black Friday” set me up for other bucket list activities and ones that required me having more skill in my new exciting yet scary gender. By going down the path I was on, I slowly realized I could never go back. Even if I had wanted to. As I always point out for me, my biggest problem was communicating with other women. I was always shy to begin with and the whole idea of talking to strangers as a transgender woman was staggering. Life became more than just interacting with clerks in clothing stores when I set out to learn how I may be treated in my male to female gender dream world. I even went as far as taking voice lessons to improve my vocal quality of life.

What proved to be the deciding factor was every time I was accepted in the world as my true self, I felt the flood of gender euphoria and wanted more. I felt so natural in my dream life, it did not feel like a dream anymore. It felt like I was living the life I always should have lived.

To get there, I needed to cross many bridges, some of which were very steep. Since I was afraid of heights, many times I was afraid to climb them and needed all the internal encouragement or gender euphoria to keep going. Thanksgiving dinner proved to be a big help as I was able to gain the confidence of a group of people I knew before I transitioned. It was the bridge I needed to do a lot of holiday shopping which I will write about more as Christmas approaches.