New Wardrobe Items

 Since the weather is cooperating and the summer season seems to be upon us, I finally decided it was now or never when it came to ordering me some new summer fashion items. 

Of course after ordering from one site which specializes in bright colored "hippie style" clothing, I was flooded with offers from similar vendors.  The problem being I am not really sold on ordering clothing on line. My wife Liz does it all the time and is a big fan so I decided to give it a try. 

My biggest paranoia came from deciding what size to purchase from which site. Fortunately the sites I ordered from had in depth sizing charts and I was able to read reviews on how true the sizes ran. Most everybody wrote in good reviews on the sizing. 

Another problem I had before purchasing was deciding if I wanted to use any of my money during these times to do it at all. You see, I am on a fixed income with Social Security and with the government default problems coming up quickly, they are talking about SS payments being suspended until the spending problem is supposedly solved. I threw caution to the wind and decided to order the items plus one more which I will not show here. 

Unlike many other Social Security recipients, I am lucky to have Liz's regular income as a back up, so until and even if the government gets their act together I should be all right.  

In the meantime, I can replace several long overdue items in my summer wardrobe before the weather totally turns to it's normal hot and humid Ohio summer.

Changing my wardrobe for the seasons has always been one of my favorite pursuits when I entered the feminine world full time. No more old drab boring male fashions for me. Now also, I can go back to my formative years as a frustrated hippie when I was in the Army. With my long flowing hair I was never allowed to have, I can come as close as I can to reliving that time in my life. It is also a plus some of the fashions are returning in popularity. 

I just hope everything fits correctly when it arrives.

Climbing the Transgender Mountain

 

Photo from the 
Jessie Hart Collection

As time has gone by, I have began to think of my transgender journey as being some sort of a mountain climb.

Problems occurred along the way as I became greedy. I found the more I accomplished along my path, the more I wanted.  Many times I was guilty of trying to push the envelope too far and suffered negative responses from the public when I did. Those were the days of not knowing who I was cross dressing for and not having the skill to attempt to blend in with my feminine appearance. I was trying to dress sexy for the men in the world and failing miserably.  Climbing the mountain in those days was very painful and slow. However, destiny was playing a part in my climb because mixed in with the failures were just enough successes to encourage me to keep moving towards my impossible dream of living a life fulltime as a trans woman. I equate it to reaching a certain summit then looking around and deciding you can never go back.

Those were the days when I finally decided I was so much more than a casual cross dresser and when I was successful in my public presentation as a woman, I felt so natural. The best example I can remember is the night I went out on my own to get a drink at an upscale pub/tavern as a woman...not as someone pretending to be one. A huge difference to me at the time. The whole evening worked out so well for me, somehow I just knew I could never go back to my male lifestyle as I knew it at the time. The entire process was terrifying and exciting at the same time. After all the years of trying, I had reached a lower peak of my climb. A place where I could see clearly where I had come from and could see vaguely where I might have the chance to go. If I continued to climb upward.

Even though I am extremely fearful of heights I did continue my upward climb. Fighting me along the way was my increasing fear of totally giving up the male life I so desperately fought to keep over the years. I was just getting to the "Sir" stage of my life when privileges came from just surviving as long as I did as a white male. Even so, my feminine soul was calling me to move ever upward to my dream. 

As I often mention, my second wife of twenty five years was dead set against living with another woman. Especially if the other woman was me. When she unexpectedly passed away at the age of fifty, the  door was open for me to climb another peak in my gender transition and begin hormone replacement therapy or HRT. At that point, I couldn't or wouldn't turn back as miraculous changes began to go through my male body. In no time at all, I made the jump from macho male to androgynous person to looking feminine with softer skin, breasts and hair. I can equate the entire process to climbing my own personal Mt. Everest. 

Once I did scale my tallest gender mountain, I found the view to be breathtaking and at that point I was happy I made the climb. More importantly, I never wanted to go back.   

 

Pretending Who you Intend to Be

Image from Sigrid Wu
on UnSplash

 Growing up in my early cross dressing years I often thought I was just pretending to be a girl. As the years passed by of course, I discovered I was doing much more than pretending. 

My first indication of having a more serious attraction to dressing in feminine clothes was when after I ended my girlish relationship with the mirror, I couldn't wait to get back. The "buzz" I felt from experiencing looking at my cross dressed reflection just didn't last more than a couple days. Plus the desire to get out of the house and my little closet was strong. Looking back now, it is easy to see I was more a transgender woman than a cross dresser. By that time, my pretending stopped and I needed to find different forms of expression. Sadly, the other forms were nearly impossible to come by.

The closest I came were the couple of times when I made an attempt to come out to close friends. For the most part both times were disasters and I scurried back into my closet determined to try to live a male life. Only one was successful when another close friend of mine seemed to share the same fondness for dressing in feminine clothes which was even supported by his Mother. It was a new and wonderful experience to think I wasn't all alone in the world pretending to be a girl. However, just when we were having fun dressing up, he and his family moved several states away and we lost contact with each other. It was another "would have, should have" moments in my life when I think back on what have could have been had he not had to move.

From then on, my gender closet became dark and lonely again. Especially when I began to have a more complete understanding of what was going on with my gender dysphoria. The more I learned, the more it seemed I was not pretending at all to be feminine. Deep down inside I was and the entire process was causing me deep turmoil. It wasn't until I was able to read more and understand what a transgender woman was did I realize the terminology fit me and I intended to discover more. During this time of my life, I was able to meet transgender and/or transsexual role models in person and judge if I was one of them.  Very quickly I discovered I was similar and I began to consider exactly what it meant. First of all, if I was indeed transgender, I needed to figure out if I indeed could live a new life. Pretending was all over and every move seemed to be more serious.

Selling out my male self essentially meant I was only going to get pennies on the dollar for my male privileges' I had worked so hard to earn. Not to mention what was I going to do about my relationship with my wife as well as a fairly successful job. Transitioning back in those days was unheard of for the most part. Plus, moving away and starting all over again was the prescribed path to take when you were completing a gender transition.  Regardless of all of those factors, I knew what I needed to do and it was to live my dream of being a full time transgender woman.    

Once I completely quit pretending I still wanted to be a male, life became easier and worth living. I just had it all backwards for years. 

Gender Patterns

Photo from the
Jessie Hart Archives

It is no secret both binary genders have patterns, ingrained in us from childhood. From very early in life, we are forced into either square or round holes. Depending upon our perceived exterior gender we are pronounced a boy or a girl and are expected to adjust and live as such.

The problem becomes when a child does not fit into one of the two prescribed holes. What happens then? Sadly in the vast majority of cases, the child is forced into either psychiatric care or worse yet, ignored. At that point most of us novice transgender youth are doomed to follow our own path to acceptance. Plus, as most of us know who have been in therapy, finding a good therapist is often difficult to do. 

The entire process usually dooms the transgender individual to going it alone in life and dealing with their gender issues. Another problem which soon makes itself known is learning the gender pattern you want to become a part of. In our case as trans women, we are excluded from the peer process and parental guidance young girls have when they are growing up. There is no one to tell you your makeup looks clownish or your skirt is too short when you are trying to go out in public. Our trial and error in the public's eye is often brutal and serves to drive us back into our dark lonely gender closets before we can reach a point of acceptance. Once we learn how to blend and exist in public, there is no feeling like it.

What happens next, at least in my case, was once I was able to dress and blend in with society, I had to then learn the finer points of gender patterns. Two of the more surprising patterns to me involved the facts that cis-women were not always the gentler gender. I learned the hard way to not turn my back on all women too soon. It took awhile but the claw marks on my back finally started to heal. I learned the hard way how to deal head on with the passive aggressive stance of some women. They wouldn't question to my face about why I was in their world but sure would attack me behind my back. The other gender pattern I was a little surprised about was the fallacy that all cis women were the cleaner gender. Primarily in the bathroom. The whole bathroom issue wasn't a total surprise because of my experience as a restaurant/bar manager.  Even still, I needed to learn the hard way to look closely before I sat down to use the toilet in a women's restroom. And, never put your purse on the floor. If you get my meaning.

From my many responses I receive to the blog, I am able to read many different comments concerning reactions to gender patterns. The comments range from very sad to amazingly euphoric. Often the euphoric ones mention the "blooming" of their feminine self. Often the acceptance of other women helped in the process. 

To all of you searching to leave your dark closets, remember to learn all the gender patterns you can to put your best foot forward and maybe, just maybe you will see the light of day as your feminine self.     

Running as Fast as I Could

 

Photo from the Jessie 
Hart Collection

During my life I confess I have never been a fan of running. In fact, the only time I had to run to any extent was when I was in the Army and when I played football. At least that was the physical version of running and not the mental one. 

On the other hand, I became quite good at the mental part of running. It all started out in my cross dressing or transvestite years when I was struggling initially with my gender issues. To help my overall mental condition I would mentally run away to hopefully dress in my small wardrobe of feminine clothes and makeup. I would even try to comb my short hair in a girlish bob to see how I looked. At the time, I was lucky if the results of dressing in front of the mirror lasted more than two or three days. At that point, my boring, unwanted male life would enter back in and normally some sort of depression would set in. 

Fast forward to my time in the military and beyond when my running became more intense. In addition to the physical running in the Army, I used my recollections of fond moments when I was dressed in mini-skirts and heels to get me by mentally. I grew quite good at day dreaming of being a woman while I was in the middle of a very male activity. I wish now that I could reclaim just a small portion of the time I wasted.

When I was honorably discharged from the military, the real running started. To seemingly circumvent my transgender desire to be a woman, I started to move my small family to new jobs and locations around the country. Shortly after we were married, I picked up and moved my second wife and I to the suburbs of New York City from our native Ohio. Only to move back again several years later. By that time, I had honed my skills as a restaurant manager and found I was in some sort of a demand and was able to switch jobs often. Most were not lateral moves but I found the move and challenge of a new job opportunity temporarily put my gender dysphoria on the back burner. For a while at least, I was able to concentrate on living nearly full time as a male. Even though my job was nearly the only thing keeping me there. 

The problem was, everytime we moved and began to get settled, my running urge would set back in. I finally learned with the help of therapy, I was trying to out run my feminine desires. In the end run, the only thing that worked was  when I stopped moving around and faced my issues. Again I wish I had back all the energy I lost trying to live a life between the two main binary genders. Eventually I did settle and began to learn a life I found I needed to survive in this world. In essence I became "Man enough to be a Woman."  At that point my running stopped, my mental health improved and life became worth living again. 

Running with a Different Pack

 

Image from Omar Lopez
on UnSplash

Back when I was living as a faux macho male, I used to be a fan of the "Big Dog" stores and was fond of using certain terminology they used to harass other store managers who were in competition with me.  Such as "If you can't run with the Big Dogs, Don't jump off the Porch. Even my second wife made sure she had given me several of their shirts. 

Little did I know later on in life, my idea of running with the big dogs would radically change. Once I started to seriously undertake a male to female gender transition did I understand who the big dogs really were. The true alpha or "big dogs" were really women. Quite quickly I realized women had to carry the weight of society on their shoulders. Women led a multi-layered complex existence which often included the burdens of raising children and holding a full time job at the same time.

To survive, I needed to learn quickly how to be accepted and be invited into cis-women circles where I found how different communication was between the two primary binary genders. It was no wonder men and women didn't understand each other. On occasion I was even asked to explain my idea of why a couple wasn't getting along. I was flattered but was at the same time a little scared I would give the wrong advice and set their relationship back even further. At the same time, I am sure none of the other women in the circle realized how much I was learning from them. After all, I was being given an once in a lifetime chance to play in the girl's sandbox. All I had to battle then was an extreme case of "impostor's syndrome" which kept questioning my right to be there in the sandbox at all.

I was fortunate also in that the circle of women I was included with were very strong individuals. What better way to learn my way in an exciting yet scary new world was there. Being able to run with the new circle increased my gender transition timetable immensely and made the whole dream of living as a fulltime transgender woman a distinct reality. I had assembled the role models I needed to move forward when they all accepted me.

The final problem I needed to face was living up to all their expectations of me. Or, what was the new person I was just becoming turn out to be. Could I be the person they expected me to be when I was still learning so much. The professional football game I was invited to was a prime example. Here I was, with my ill fitting wig and all trying to enjoy such a different experience. I had been to many games as a man but never as my true authentic self. Thanks to Kim for the wonderful time!

The final chapter in "Running with a Different Pack" has yet to be written. I still will have the final chapter to write. Hopefully it will be another smooth one once as I face the very real possibility of assisted living later in life.

Singing a Different Tune

During the search for my authentic gender over the years, I relied on music to lift me from my bouts of Bi-Polar based depression. 

Once I reached college age, I was drawn to music as a way of trying to support myself as a radio disc jockey. In fact, I was able to work my way partially through college working at a local small radio station. I made a small amount of money while at the same time furthered my love of music. Along the way I was fortunate in that even though I was a rock and roller at heart, I was also able to work in various other music formats such as free form (or progressive rock) as well as country music. Bottom line was I grew accustomed to appreciating music as a whole and just not a specific medium.  I can't tell you how many times I tried to mimic "Reba McIntire" the country singer. 

Along the way, early in my career I happened along certain songs such as Lola by the Kink's in 1970. It was interesting when I had to field call in's asking was the song really about a woman who was a man. I also discovered certain music which could soothe my blues temporarily. Which led me to an appreciation of the Jazz/Blues form of entertainment. So much so, with the help of a large music library which went back to the post WWII days, I was able to produce and program my own Blues Show on the American Forces Network station in Stuttgart, Germany. It was during this period of my life I was able to over enjoy the effects of powerful German Beer. Even though the extra alcohol was not good for my overall depression, it turned out to be a primary source of socialization for myself and friends I made along the way. This extreme alcoholic socialization finally led me to confessing my Halloween feminine "costume" was much more than an innocent past time as I was also a transvestite. It was the first time in my life I had told the truth to others that I was actually singing a different tune.

Destiny was behind me at the time because my admission could have been quite harmful to my military "career" which still had a year to go.  No one I told seemed to care and no one held it against me. As they could have. I was able to concentrate on my two main pleasures, playing music and reading "Dr. Strange" comic books in my spare time. I have said many times, I enjoyed my easy military time the best I could. Tough duty! Right?

After I was honorably discharged back to civilian life, I resumed my commercial radio career working for several small and medium sized radio stations in the Dayton, Ohio area. Music remained a huge part of my life even though my gender dysphoria ran a close second. I was very much mostly out of control until my daughter came along and I decided not to make the move I had planned to make to Texas to continue my career. In essence, I needed to take a more serious look at life. All along life was telling me two things. One of which I loved music and the second was I wasn't sure what gender I should be. Was I destined to be known as one of the newer terms of the time...was I transgender. 

As much as I loved my career, I was having a difficult time at making a living for my new family and decided to give it all up and try my hand at the rapidly expanding restaurant business. Sadly as I did well at running restaurants, my reliance on music to soothe my soul diminished.  I began to rely on my prescribed depression medications to control my Bi-Polar mood issues and my life stabilized. At the same time, my reliance on alcohol went away also. I need to stress, I followed my therapist's orders. 

I still remember how fondly I embraced my musical interests and look back at the time as the only job in my life  when I ever truly enjoyed my work. However, when I emerged singing a different tune, I was eventually able to live a happier more satisfying life.

Happy Mother's Day

At the least, Mother's Day is a bittersweet occasion for many transgender women. Tragically we have the many trans women who have been ostracized from their families for wanting to live a life reflecting our authentic selves.

On the other hand we have the rare example of those transgender women who were able to walk the gender path to the other side and be accepted as a Mother figure. The misconception continues to be females who give birth are automatically mothers in the strictest sense. Some females have the ability to be a Mother, other's don't. In fact I have a dear trans friend who is a prime example. 

Over the years of her life when her two sons were young, she ended up being the prime nurturer to her two boys. She fed them and healed them when they were sick as well as making sure they made it to all the extra curricular activities they needed to go to. In other words, she was the prime parent while the "womb donor" disappeared. Now it is obvious she raised two accepting young men who mostly accept her gender preferences. 

In my case, I often document the disagreements I suffered with my Mom. We were much the same as I resembled her in many ways as well as we both had the same fiery temperaments which resulted in never being satisfied with our state in the world. Then there was the infamous evening when I finally came out to her as her transgender daughter, only to be roundly rejected. Her response was paying for strict psychiatric care. From that moment forward, I did resent her for years until I did come to a personal understanding she was only a product of her generation and was doing the best she could in the middle of changing times. The end result was when I decided to change my legal name, I decided to use her first name as my middle one. I was honoring her for putting up with all the mis-carriages and even still births she endured before I finally came around. Even though it was difficult to forgive our differences on my gender disposition, I knew she loved me deeply in her own way. She has long since passed away. 

On this Mother's Day, I hope you have some sort of acceptance from your family. Being separated is a tragedy too many of us transgender women have to live through.        

I Made It

Liz on Left, Daughter on Right
from the Jessie Hart
Collection

Yesterday I received a special small box in the mail. Before I opened it, I truly had no idea what it could be except for the obvious...it came from my daughter in a relatively nearby suburb of Dayton, Ohio.

The only thing I thought the box could contain was something involved with the rapidly approaching Mothers Day celebration. It turned out my instincts or intuition was right and the box contained a really special coffee mug which said it was from my "favorite" child which was a standing joke between the two of us because she is my only child. Even though I only had one child, I could never have asked for a better one. 

Growing up, she had the benefit of having a village helping to raise her since her Mother and I divorced when she was quite young. She was accepted whole heartedly as part of our lives by my second wife as her strong willed Step-Mother so essentially my daughter had two accepting extended families. Plus when I moved around the country for new job opportunities, she was exposed to life in other places. I guess all of it worked to perfection because after my daughter graduated from college, she settled down with my Son-in-Law to raise my three grandkids. We enjoyed a good relationship until the potential problem of coming out as transgender raised it's potentially problematic head. 

I will forever remember the day I came out to her during a special breakfast we scheduled. Her reaction was? Why was she the last to know! From that point forward my child became my biggest supporter and she did things like schedule me an appointment at her beauty salon when my hair became long enough to style. Through it all, we worked together to get over my second wife's death, legally change my name to one which honored members of my family and other key moments in my life at that time.

The one thing which I never asked for was to be referred to as Mother in any way shape or form. So, in our case Mother's Day became "Parent's Day" and that was all good with me. Yesterday "Parent's Day" forever changed between us. Included with my coffee mug was a special hand written card. Unbelievably, the card said Happy Mother's Day in her hand writing. I immediately teared up. After all these years I had made it to a goal I never dreamed of achieving. Being called Mother by my daughter. I can only guess why the big change happened now. Perhaps it was because the last time I saw her we had a chance to sit down and just talk between ourselves, Liz and my transgender grand child.  Maybe my femininity showed through enough she decided it was time to do away with "parenthood" and move up to "motherhood".

All I can say is I am again beginning to cry tears of joy as I write this post. I am so fortunate to  have the family I have now. Especially since I have moved up to "Mom" . It took me nearly fifty years after I was present for the birth of my daughter to make it.  

Being the Transgender Woman you Desire

 

Image from the Jessie
Hart Collection

Recently I went with my wife Liz to her latest Doctor's appointment. As I waited I was able to see and judge several genetic or cis women.  It is a past- time I have developed over my many years studying all sorts of women as I transitioned. Along the way I so envied women for many different reasons.

Before I transitioned and began to live full time in a feminine world, I over simplified what I observed from other women. In other words, I was seeing the totality in what I observed in the woman's world. Not the overall layers which went on behind the scenes.  An example was when I noticed a younger woman this morning with a head of curly beautiful hair. Since now I have an idea of all the necessary steps a woman with long hair has to go through for maintenance, I immediately had more respect for the woman I noticed. 

Over the years of changing my gender presentation, hair was not the only part of a woman I noticed. Of course there were the individual parts of a body to consider. When they were all brought together I discovered a new found respect for classic beauty in a woman. On the other hand, I also learned of another very important fact. Even though most women aren't blessed with so called classic beauty traits, just as many have a few of the traits to concentrate on. A very important fact to consider if you are a novice transgender woman or a cross dresser. While it is an exceedingly difficult job to cover years of testosterone poisoning, it is possible to work with any positives you may possess. Legs are a good example. Many male type people are blessed with good strong feminine looking legs which are a good starting point to building the woman you desire. The problem of course is when those same legs are connected to a thick torso and broad shoulders. The real work begins when you have to start hiding the upper part of your body. Before I lost many pounds, I resorted to loose flowing tops and I was still able to show off my legs in shorter jeans skirts. In essence what I was trying to do was direct the eyes down to my legs and away from my torso when anyone noticed me. 

I was also fortunate  in that I had always admired a more statuesque woman so I wasn't (and not)  impressed with the overly thin predominance of thin female models. So I didn't have that to worry about as I went about becoming a semblance of the woman I wanted to be. 

It turned out I was putting way too much worry and thought into the woman I was becoming. My inner girl already had the process worked out for me. Now I see other women for what they are and not what I want to be. I have learned to do the best I could with the cards which were dealt to me. Being the woman you are is a matter of letting her live. I know the process is so difficult for so many of us and I am far from putting myself up on any sort of pedestal. I have learned my lesson when my fall from feminine grace hurt me deeply. All I am trying to say is when anyone asks me when did I know I was transgender, I have always been. She was just waiting to be let out and be the woman she always desired.  

Tennis Anyone?

Image Courtesy Renith R
on UnSplash

 Years ago I felt the need to attempt to copy many of the most popular feminine mannerisms and/or activities I could find. This is a fun post describing one of those activities I was able to indirectly join in on. 

At the restaurant I was managing at the time during lunch we had several women come in for a late lunch and a cocktail (or two). During the warmer times of the year they were avid tennis fans and came in with their very sexy short tennis outfits. Of course, at the time, I wanted my own tennis outfit and be able to go out and show off my legs. 

What happened was, by total accident, I was able to piece together a passable (I thought) tennis outfit with everything in white excluding a tennis racket I didn't have or want. Since I had never really tried to play tennis at all. What happened was I found an all white, lite weight mini dress as a starter point. With it I was able to find all white tennis shoes which were very inexpensive in my size as well as a tunic of sorts (all white) to cover my arms which had tons of black hair I couldn't shave off back in those days because on certain days I needed to wear short sleeves for the kitchen work I had to do.  Hairy arms would not just work with the image I wanted to portray.  I even had to rely on trying to camouflage my hairy legs by wearing two pairs of panty hose as well as adding my own guilty pleasure, a pair of white thigh high stockings.  Because during this time I had agreed with my wife not to shave my legs during the summer. 

Of course, once I had my outfit together, I needed to find a venue to test it out. I finally decided on a nearby mall where I could test my new tennis look with my shoulder length blond wig. Once I got dressed and put my makeup on, naturally the mirror told me I was ready to go and I snuck out the back door while my wife was at work. When I was in the car and out of my hometown,  I began to breathe and enjoy the air on my legs and the drive to a faux tennis match. 

In no time I arrived at the mall, my anxiety over being "discovered" or even laughed at grew stronger as I wondered how I would be accepted. Little did I know during the time I was at the mall, it was nearly deserted. So I was stuck with "presenting" my new tennis look to a few old men who were there to walk around and get some exercise. Naturally, I was noticed and I tried to make it seem I was just in a hurry to pick something up and get back to my tennis. All in all the strategy seemed to work because outside of being stared at (as any woman would) nothing out of the ordinary happened. In no time at all I was back in my car heading home, loving my tennis experience.

These days with all the advanced conditioning available to athletic women, many appear to have developed more muscles with an resultant androgynous look, so a tennis outfit may not be as much fun. One way or another back then, I was able to check the whole experience off my bucket list of womanly things to do as a transgender woman. 

I Failed my Gender Assignment

Vintage Edition of
Transvestia Magazine

 My initial gender assignment was very simple. I was born a boy, now be one. The problem quickly became I was failing the assignment and I just didn't want to be the gender which was assigned to me. 

Instead of following all of the basic rules I was given about being male, sooner more than later I began to realize something was wrong and essentially I had no choice but to follow the rules. As they were presented to me. My parents were members of the "greatest generation" who survived a great economic depression and a world war.  They were well versed in taking what was presented to them and making the best of it. The same was expected from me. I had no way out when it came to my gender issues. I was alone with my problems. 

In response I did the best I could. I participated in sports and did my best to present myself as a so called "normal" boy. While I was doing it, I also was doing my best to use my limited funds to accumulate a small collection of makeup and feminine clothes which freed me up from helping myself to my Mom's belongings. Of course at the time I was outgrowing my Mom in all the size categories, so it was good to finally go out on my own when I could. I guess you could say, this was the first time I actually passed my gender assignment, in my chosen dream world of being feminine. 

At the same time, I learned the male so called attributes of being emotionally distant and keeping my feelings bottled up. I would carry those with me until I was able to more completely transition my gender.  I was able to not fail this part of my gender exam. In many ways, in order to receive a pass or fail grade in either gender, I needed to wait for the world to catch up to me. Since I was a part of the pre-internet generation, information of any kind was very limited. In fact, I was completely isolated in my closet until I learned of "Virginia Prince" and her "Transvestia" publication. I was so relieved when I found I wasn't alone in the world and there were other so called transvestites in the world and some even met for mixers in cities close enough for me to attend. 

Once I did attend, my path to a different gender assignment became clearer. I was able to interact with others dealing with the same gender issues I was dealing with  and come up with a new plan for my life. It was about this time the transgender word became popular and I strongly believed it fit me. It was becoming increasingly evident I needed to take another gender exam. I was failing my initial male assignment and wanted so badly to attempt taking the new exciting feminine assignment or exam. Before I was able to, it turned out I had a lot more studying to do. Being a woman was a lot more than just looking like one. I can compare the process to higher education. Just being able to blend and mix in with the public as a transgender woman was similar to having an undergraduate degree. Then being able to communicate with other women one on one was the equivalent to obtaining a masters degree and so on.

Finally I accepted the fact I had failed my male assignment completely. No matter how hard I tried to succeed as a man, the whole process seemed to be an empty pursuit. Even though I was relatively successful in obtaining male privilege, I found I didn't want it. On the other hand, attempting to go as far as I could with a feminine gender assignment proved to be the answer to all my gender issues. Why? Primarily because the whole process felt so natural to me.

   

A Need or a Want

 

Image Courtesy Alexis Fauvet
on UnSplash

Beware, this post deals with semantics. Perhaps I should have put a "TW" or trigger warning in first. Semantics are difficult to deal with due to tendencies to paint problems or solutions with a broad stroke of a brush.

What I am getting to, is the question of being transgender  more of a need or a want. I have a tendency to think it is a need more than a want. Why? Because to me a want is more of a choice which anti transgender bigots who are trying to take our rights away often try to condemn us with. Down deep we transgender women and trans men know we never had a choice. Our lives were always destined to go down an often long and bumpy gender path to freedom. In other words, destiny equaled more of a need than a want.

As I look at the process, I can compare it also to the need to eat. Naturally we all have to eat to survive and that is exactly how I feel about my gender journey. The more I progressed down the path, the more I needed to keep going. Long ago in my journey did I stop thinking I was cross dressing simply because I wanted to. I learned the hard way I was so much more than a man who had an extra "hobby" which wasn't golf. Instead I was obsessed with the latest women's fashions and imagining how I would look in them. More and more, even though my wife knew I was a transvestite, I snuck away in our marriage. Essentially I was cheating on her with another woman who happened to be me. I always tried to live an honest life so lying to the one person I loved the most tore me up.

Through all the cheating I was doing, I never gave much thought to what was going on. Most certainly the whole gender process I was in was more of a need than a want. I needed to keep pursuing a feminine lifestyle which I had seen other transgender women around me try to do and were successful at doing. Watching and learning from them helped me to live a new life which was slowly but surely taking over my old unwanted male existence. No matter how I tried to tell myself I didn't want to be a fulltime woman and even with all the purges I went through, I kept coming back to the same place. I needed to live a feminine lifestyle.   

The rest of the story I write about often. My second wife tragically passed away from a major heart attack, leaving me so alone in the world. I was able to fall back to the other woman in my life who I needed also. My feminine strong soul took over and with the key help of several dear friends, I was able to undertake my key transition into a lifestyle I had only dreamed of. From there I never looked back. Secure in the fact my gender desires were more of a need than a want.

What I Intended to Be

Image from Jen Theodore
on UnSplash

Early on in my life, I was all in on pretending to be someone I thought I was not. (a girl) I was reinforced by all the lonely times I spent in front of an admiring mirror which was telling me I looked wonderful as a girl. All along, the mirror was just reinforcing what I was pretending to be. Feminine (or what I perceived it to be) dominated my free time thinking.  I wrote "what I perceived femininity to be" because as life went by and I acquired more experience cross dressing and/or being a transvestite. I was so protected back in those days, I didn't even have the time or access to really consider what either term meant. In either case, I discovered both were just labels anyhow.

The whole gender process I went through ended up taking me nearly a half a century to go through which sounds intimidating. The trip also was very laden with various ups and downs which I revisit frequently. I do it in the hope others who are considering such a venture can learn from my successes or failures. Similar to everything else in life, we have to learn from our failures and move on until we can finally experience the successes. I experienced more failures than successes before I finally  learned to present as well as I could as a woman in public. When I did, I needed to settle on one look and build my new self from it. 

From there I was able to move away from any thinking I was moving away from pretending and moving increasingly towards a life to be lived as it was intended to be. The main reason was the process felt so natural. Even though for the most part I was terrified to give up my old male life. Each step I took as a novice transgender woman proved I was on the right gender path. On the path I was able to carve out my own safe places to go to. I started out in gay venues. In which I quickly rejected for several reasons. The main one was I did not want to be mistaken for or treated as a drag queen. From that point I started to go to a few upscale bar/tavern venues similar to what I was used to managing in my restaurant days. I had one main positive going for me in that I knew the venues were primary revenue driven. And, if I did not cause any trouble and tipped well, I could survive if I did the best I could to dress to blend. I became a regular bar fly and was able to build from there. 

Again, the more I quit pretending to be a woman and started to believe I was one...transgender or not, the better I did. The new world I was in provided me many challenges to move forward into a feminine world I had only dreamed of. The whole process led me to quit pretending all together I was ever a male in the world and onward into a dream world of being a woman on my own terms. Sure I faced the haters who said I could never be a woman because I could never bear children to which I replied what about the cis women who for whatever reason can't have children either. For the most part, I never heard from them again.

As it turned out, life started all over for me once I made it to my early sixties and I was able to start all over and live my life as it was always intended to do.  

It's Complicated

 

Photo from the 
Jessie Hart Collection

Often I wonder why I chose such a difficult path in life. It all would have been so much easier if I had only followed the male journey which was set out for me. In other words, if I had been content to be the square peg fitting into the square hole would I have been happier.  Here I was stuck in a white world in a middle class family with all the expectations laid on me of a first born son. 

The problem was, for some unknown reason to me, I never had a choice. From the earliest age forward I always suffered from gender dysphoria. I just couldn't shake the fact I wanted so badly to be feminine. How much easier life would have been if I had accepted the male role I was thrown into without the uncertainty I faced if I had the courage to accept my true gender and build a new life. Compounding the problem was nothing changed when I became older, in fact things just became worse. The more I explored when I snuck out of my dark gender closet, the more I wanted to explore. The world just felt so much more natural when I was living as my feminine or transgender self. The more I explored and had to return to my increasingly unwanted male world, the more frustrated with life I became. Why was this happening to me.

What did happen was, when the pressure built to the point I couldn't handle it, I escaped to my secret feminine world which embraced me. The more I was embraced, of course the more I did not want to go back. The whole process caused me to dwell on the next time I could run to and escape the male world as a woman. When I was in what I call the "hell" times, I became mean and nasty and very difficult to live with. It became so bad, I even lost a job one time when I was being nasty to my crew. I often wish I had the time back when I was obsessing about being a woman as I was trying desperately to go forth and be a man.  How much farther could I have gone?

Again and again I am humored when I read someone who says all along I had a choice to be transgender and live with all the hell I lived with as I followed my path. I was driven hard to be a successful man as a father and a provider and gave it all up when I transitioned. The whole process was unbelievably complicated and stressful. Perhaps the worst part was I didn't completely understand what I was going through. The only thing which was obvious, come hell or high water, I needed to go through it. All I know is when I gave up all my hard earned male privileges to live a full time life as a transgender woman, I did the right thing. The ripping and tearing of my two genders fighting for supremacy just destroyed whatever life I was still trying to live. 

What I didn't understand was how complicated life would be as a transgender woman. I needed to look the part first, then learn all the nuances of a gender which is certainly the most complex of the two binary genders. Male and female. Just communicating with other women as an equal took me a long time to learn. Plus playing in a world built around passive aggression left me scarred on many occasions before I began to understand exactly where the claws were coming from. It was complicated but I was able to learn as it didn't take long for my long hidden female self to gain total control. 

It was my favorite time of my life. As I love to put it, I gained my right to play in the girls' sandbox. 

Transgender Bruising

Photo from
the Jessie Hart
Collection

As we all have experienced, the path we have chosen for ourselves to find and live as our authentic selves is often filled with walls, curves and potholes. Once we think we have conquered one obstacle, another pops up to bruise us. 

Even after all these decades, I still carry the mental bruises when I didn't pass and was stared at or even laughed at in public. Worse yet were the times I was told to leave a venue after a group of guys insisted on playing "Dude Looks Like a Lady" time after time on the juke box. Following my refusal to leave after all of that, I was asked to by a manager. Ironically, I had my revenge not long after that when a group of employees found me in a nearby venue and asked me to return. Telling me the manager who asked me to leave was fired for drug use. Even still, it took awhile for my gender bruising to go away. 

Little did I know I was at a new point in my life as a novice transgender woman when I was just getting started. Only one aspect of my life remained the same and that was change. I had always been a person by nature to push the boundaries and I still did as I climbed my gender path out of my closet. Even though I was excited and at the same time terrified when I was exploring the feminine world, I took my bruises and moved on. Not knowing what the next experience would be. Amazingly, I was able to forget the nights I came home in tears and made myself ready to try again. The learning curve would vary from deep bruises all the way to small hits to the ego. 

Through it all, I was for the most part, learning on my own with no one to guide me. It seemed the path I was on had very few street lights or signs to help. During this period of my life, the internet was just getting established and I was in the middle of a twenty five year relationship with my second wife  who disapproved completely when I suggested in any way I was transgender. Two major obstacles I needed to work around if I was ever able to advance up my gender path without sustaining any other major bruising. Somehow I managed to keep moving forward until sadly my wife suddenly passed away and I had choices to make on my future.

On my path ahead I had already seen plenty of signs promoting HRT or hormone replacement therapy. As I considered the huge consequences of such a move, I thought maybe a increased dosage of estradiol in my system would make up for some of the bruising I had experienced in my past. I figured at the least, the hormone therapy would help to feminize my exterior self which was exposed to the public. Plus the process would help me sync up my inner woman with my exterior man. As I went up the gender path this time, at least I had HRT to help me. Plus, while I am on the subject of help, I always need to pause and thank all the women I met on the path after I started hormones. Without all the women I met, the bruising would have continued longer. My path was telling me I still had a long way to go to truly learn and embrace the layered feminine lifestyle I so desperately wanted. 

To make a long story short, my friends embraced me, healed my  gender bruises and helped shorten my pathway to living my dream life...a full time transgender woman. 

Maybe I was fortunate in that all of my bruises were mental. Not psychical like so many women trans or not have to go through. However mental bruises are hard enough to heal.  

  

My Own Worst Enemy

Image Courtesy Hisu Lee
on UnSplash

I don't know exactly why but during my gender transition from a dark and lonely closet, I was my own worst enemy. What I mean is everytime I made a considerable stride towards my goal of learning if I could really live a feminine life, somehow I would make a mistake in my presentation (or something) which would want to make me head back towards my closet. I even purged most all of my women's clothes, wigs and makeup several times. A "purge" is a term used by cross dressers and/or transvestites when they throw out or giveaway all their precious belongings and reassure themselves they would never journey to the woman side of life again.

In my case, I think I was mostly on the positive side when it came to purges. Or, as I remember, I received more gifts from transvestite friends than I threw away. In particular, one time I was gifted with a very nice set of silicone breast forms which I desperately needed. Especially if you remember the time my ill fated attempt at creating breasts from water balloons failed spectacularly in a venue I was a regular in. I just couldn't convince anyone I was pregnant and my water broke when it happened. 

Sadly, the water balloon instance was not the only time I attempted something I knew deep down was not the smartest thing to do.  Another example was when I had this short platinum blond wig which the mirror told me I looked great in but then discovered too late the wig was not long enough to cover my dark hair which showed in the back. Stunts like that, including poor fashion choices, led me to many set backs as time and time again I was my own worst enemy. Perhaps it was my own male self helping to set me up for failure. He in no way wanted me to succeed as a woman. For the longest time I was frustrated with the smallest of examples of how I was struggling to present convincingly as a woman. It seemed that once I conquered the artform of makeup, hair and clothes, I would destroy my feminine image with still walking like a guy or worse yet, talking like one.

Again and again I was my own worse enemy in my MtF gender transition. Even though I never really enjoyed the struggle to live a male life I went through, the privileges I had gained through hard work were difficult to just let go. The whole give and take gender process between the two main binary genders was very stressful to endure and affected my entire mental health at the time. I was attempting to live approximately three days as a woman and three plus as a man as well as still maintain my well paying male job. As I said, it was an exhausting process trying to remember which gender I was attempting to live in on which day and my lifestyle led me to a very serious suicide attempt. Finally I needed to accept my male self was just throwing any sort of obstacle he could just to hang on as long as he could. On the other hand, everytime I was successful in living my dream life as a transgender woman it felt so natural and I did not want to go back to part time living as a man.

Once I did make the final determination to leave what was left of my old male self behind, it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. My mental health improved along with my life and I could live again. 

A Rare Night Out

Dining Out from the Jessie Hart
Collection.

Last night I talked my wife Liz into going to one  of our favorite Mexican restaurants.  She works hard and is very much a homebody so getting her to go out is rare. On the other hand, I consider getting in motion to go out and eat is one of my rare pleasures. 

The excuse I used last night was since we were already going to be out to vote anyway, I would treat her to dinner so she wouldn't have to cook. Since we always consider voting to be so important, I didn't have much convincing to do to get her to go out and eat. 

First of all, voting went quickly and I always consider the voting process an honor because of two reasons. The first is obvious because these days, with the spread of anti-transgender legislation, it is important to make sure we all get out the vote to combat it.  All means all of us. Even if you are still deep in your closet, you never know when the door will open and you will need the rights you voted for to live a quality life in the world. The second reason I like to vote is, it reminds me of the first real time I had to use my brand new Ohio Driver's License to vote and my license had the magical female (F) on it. I'm sure as long as I live, I will never forget the experience of voting the first time with my new I.D. 

As I said, voting went quickly and I was treated with respect so I felt good about continuing the evening in another venue we know so well.

These days, ordering from a restaurant menu is a little dicey because Liz and I are on a strict sugar and flower free diet. Using s little imagination we were able to order fajita's without the beans, rice or tortilla's and just had salads instead. Since I have tried to follow the diet the best I could, I enjoyed a mini celebration with a beer. Regardless of all of that, no one paid us any extra attention, which back in the day would have been a problem. Even though I very much am able to move through society without many problems these days, I still remember the days which I couldn't. 

Since Liz and I were able to enjoy a rare night out, I am hoping I can convince her to get out more often. She even orders most of our groceries and household items to be delivered. I am hoping the weight she is losing will fuel a new found confidence in her which will allow her to go out more often. Fortunately, she knows my feeling on the subject. I need to public acceptance to help my overall mental health about being a secure transgender woman. 

I am a big believer in success breeds success and soon I will be enjoying more nights out.    

I Never Looked Back

Image courtesy Rainier Ridao'
on UnSplash 

Once I freed myself from the remaining shackles of my male life, I was fortunate in that I never had the opportunity to look back. Rarely did I think I was doing anything wrong and my inner strong feminine self was ecstatic with the whole process she waited so long for. Perhaps the unique situation I was living in the at the time helped. 

First of all, I was just emerging from one of the darkest moments I had ever known in my life. I had just lost my business not so long after I lost my wife and several close friends mostly due to cancer. At the same time I was really becoming involved with the internet where I could check out the possibility of learning of others in similar situations. Especially in the relatively new world of transgender women. I spent hours when I was off work seeking new information on my computer. The more I saw, the more I wondered if I could pursue similar paths towards achieving my dream of living full time as a transgender woman. The whole process provided me with hope for the future.

It was during this period of my life too when I had very few obstacles in my way. Since my wife had passed away, there was no one close to me to stop me from doing serious experimentation with living life as a woman. I set about to refine my appearance and learn as much as I could about the feminine arts of public life. Primary examples included vocal communication and overall attempts to blend in with the at large public. The whole process was equally terrifying and exciting as well as it took my mind off of my overall problems. Now the process seems like a blur as my inner feminine self quickly took over my life. I decided then to undergo hormone replacement therapy which seemed like the best way to continue my MtF gender transition and never look back. 

I write often about how the hormones affected me and how quick the process was. Possibly because of the fact I was older (in my early sixties) and my testosterone was in decline anyhow. At any rate, even under mostly minimum dosages, I was surprised how fast the changes to my body began to appear. Before I knew it, I was reaching a point where I was a very androgynous human being. Again, I was excited and wanted permission from my doctors to do more. 

I did do more and more and never looked back. Primarily because there was no good reason to do so. Because always living a male life was such a struggle for me and living a new feminine life just felt so natural. My inner self was telling me in no uncertain terms I told you so and I loved it. The feelings continued into my everyday life as I found I could be successful in a woman's world. Finally, never looking back became part of my life as I set out to be the best new person I could be.    

     

Entering Woman only Spaces

 

First Girls Night Out. I am on the 
bottom left. From the Jessie Hart
Collection

Recently I posted two comments from readers. One of which mentioned her concerns with responding to and going to a women's only space. The reader, Ann, said she did not go for several relevant reasons including she didn't want to turn the place into a space where the other women felt there was an "interloper" there which made normal feminine discourse impossible. I paraphrased Ann. If you want to refer to her entire comment, go back one day to the "Trans-Sisterhood" post. If you haven't read it, it is a well thought out statement of if you should or should not attend. In response, Lisa P added this comment:

"  May I comment to Ann? I asked if I could join a women’s book club and was readily accepted. I can assure Ann that if she is being asked, she will be welcomed. Moreover, we talk about issues specific to women all the time, and there is no hesitancy or embarrassment shown by them. They know I am part of their “tribe” and I am safe. I do appreciate Ann’s concern and thoughtfulness (we should all emulate her). If possible I ask first before entering women’s safe spaces. But, I have not been rejected and I am more whole when I am part of the sisterhood of women. Lisa P."

As I said yesterday, when I first was invited to "girls' nights out" as well as other women only spaces I felt remarkably welcome. In many instances I felt as if the other women were welcoming into their club with arms open. Plus in many ways I have thought other women respond favorably to a transgender woman's need to do away with any toxic masculinity and live an authentic life. Once I was invited to play in the girl's sandbox and I learned the rules, I never looked back and went on to proceeding to live a life I only had dreamed of. Maybe, as Ann said, I could have been a little selfish but taking the chance to live and learn from other women was too much to resist. As Lisa said I was never rejected and realized more than ever before how much I was missing when I still was trying to live part of my life as a man. 

Then, there were all the nights I partied with two other women who happened to identify as lesbian, The entire experience validated in me the fact I didn't need a man's attention so I could feel like a woman. Once I made it to this point, thanks to my friends, I never had to look back again. From there I went on to "co-ed" spaces which included men but were dominated by women. Again, a whole new learning process. I believe it as during this phase when I began to develop more of myself as a transgender woman. It was especially true when I knew all of the other group participants knew I reached my gender destination by a different route than anyone else in the room. 

By entering woman only spaces, initially I was terrified but once I was accepted, I was able to grow into the trans sisterhood with other women and the group became more diverse.