Destruction

Image from Mika Baumeister
on UnSplash

At various stages of my life I survived being so very self destructive to everything around me. 

Of course being gender dysphoric as well as bi-polar didn't help. Before I was diagnosed and received medications it seemed all I did was go from being very depressed to being very mean and nasty. I am surprised my wife was able to stay around as I tried to tear down everything I attempted to build. Often I would change jobs at a frenetic pace just to see if I could. During the process I uprooted and moved my wife and I from our native Ohio, to New York City, then back again to West Virginia. She didn't like the moves but came along anyway.

It took me awhile but finally I came to the conclusion I was trying to out run my gender issues by all the moving we were doing. Since my inner feminine self didn't respect all of the work was male self was doing to be a success, she did her part to resist and tear all the work down. Very self destructive to say the least. 

One of the biggest pillars of my life which was left was my marriage to my second wife which I write about often since it lasted twenty five years. She knew I was a cross dresser or transvestite from the very beginning so in many ways dressing like a woman for me was a non starter with her. She didn't really care and/or put up with it. The deciding factor came when I began to feel the urge to see if I could actually live as a transgender woman. I can still hear her words echoing in my head, I never signed up to live with another woman. After tremendous gender focused battles and me essentially cheating on her by leaving the house behind her back, I finally gave in and tried to purge most all of my feminine belongings before she passed away. I view the whole experience now as a fight between two strong willed women, my wife and my female self.

After I began the MtF gender transition to living life as a transgender woman, I needed to go through a relearning process of sorts to not be so self destructive. Among other things, I needed to dress more conservatively to blend in to where I wanted to go and I needed to be much more wiser when I did it. I almost learned the hard way about being in the wrong place at the wrong time as a trans woman. My male safety privileges were stripped from me when I crossed the gender border and I needed to learn the new rules of being a woman...fast. 

As it turned out, my new feminine self was much less self destructive than my old male self. Once she had finally got her way, she wanted to keep it and build a much more pleasant life.

Planning Ahead

Image from Mohamed Nohassi
on UnSplash 

At some point in my transgender MtF transition I was forced to plan ahead.

The point I am referring to is when I came to the point I knew I was going to attempt to go "all the way". When I did, I needed to seriously consider first of all how I was going to be able to support myself. I worked at a job which was very male dominated and relied on serving the public, so I knew my company would resist my gender changes. Plus I couldn't even imagine how a kitchen crew would react to a transgender manager. 

I ended up taking the easy way out and was able to retire early on my Social Security benefits and augment them by selling the houseful of antiques and collectibles my wife and I had obtained over the years. Between the two, I managed to support myself as a novice transgender woman. Perhaps what I didn't plan so well for was the experience of actually living as a trans woman. Once I threw away or donated all of my male clothes, acquiring an everyday women's wardrobe proved challenging. I learned very quickly I couldn't be the "pretty pretty princess" I was for most of my transvestite or cross dressing years on a daily basis. I needed to fall in line with the women around me and dress for comfort when they went about their normal life's. Blending became my word of the day when I faced the reality of dressing feminine on a daily basis.

Once I conquered dressing the part, I then needed to adjust to going to places I may  have felt uncomfortable in as a transgender woman. Examples included places such as auto parts stores all the way to junk yards when Liz and I searched for a hard to find part for our old car. Through it all, I tried to keep my head up and deal with situations (which for the most part) never came up. What I didn't realize was  dealing with other women on a daily basis would prove to be the most challenging experience for me. All of a sudden, I was forced into deeper communication other than I love your ear-rings. Specifically from women who wanted to pry into who they were communicating with. Some were gentle and calculating while others were more blunt and to the point. Similar to how a man would attack. The most important point was I learned quickly how to  protect myself when I began to be out on a daily basis as a transgender woman.

I learned all the planning in the world all of a sudden didn't do me any good. I was making good on a lifetime gender dream and there was no turning back. I just can't say enough how big the changes were when I finally had the courage to go full time. I will never forget the experience and how fulfilling it was for me. 

Civil War

Image from Valentin Salja
on UnSplash

When I see a gender bigot of any sort  who says we transgender women or men had a choice of our gender lifestyles. I just shake my head in disbelief. Having any sort of a choice in my gender battles has always been the furthest  thing in my mind.

In my case, the best way I can describe the torment of the transgender dysphoria I went through was similar to fighting an individual civil war. My feminine side fought a vicious war to free herself from the male self who was fighting equally as hard to remain in control. Even though deep down he knew the existence was built on a false premise. From a very early age, I knew I deeply admired the girls and dreamed of how it would be to have the chance to be the cheerleader instead of the defensive end on the football team. A prime example among others including not have to wear the same old boring clothes. I so envied the girls with their pretty dresses and shoes.

None of my envy did me any good and my civil war grew more intense the more I did to relieve the problem. Even though I was able to increase my meager wardrobe of feminine clothes, the more I wanted. Especially when I was able to buy my own makeup and began to experiment ever more seriously when I viewed my new image in the mirror. Even though most of my attempts were predictably clownish, I slowly became more skilled and every now and then even was able to catch a glimpse of my true inner female in the mirror. Sadly, when I did, I usually wanted more which did nothing to stop my civil war.    

Through it all, my male self behaved predictably. He held on, refusing to give up any of his battlefield. He made the process much more difficult by internalizing his pain. Looking back, he fought back the only way he knew, to be brave and fight on. He thought I would lose most of my beloved hobbies such as sports , as well as friends, if my female took over after winning the civil war I was going through. Even though most all of that turned out to be false, the fear was real.

All my gender battles created extreme pressure within me. Finally the strain culminated with me attempting a self harm or suicide attempt. Fortunately I wasn't very good and failed. From the attempt I began to think back at all the other self destructive attempts I tried in my life. Not all as dramatic but all equally as sad. If I had not been busy fighting my own destructive civil war, how much more could I have accomplished in my life. 

No matter how you cut it, civil wars are never kind or pleasant and transgender civil wars are no different.  

What If?

Picnic picture from the 
Jessie Hart Collection. Liz on right.

Often I think about what my life would had been like if my wife had been transgender and I was the one trying to deal with it.

What if she wanted to become a he and started to date other women? Of course the easiest answer would be I would be the accepting one but would I have been if I had never been trans. Then I think of the amazing spouses which have come to acceptance of their former husbands new gender. The wives who come to understand the internal self is the important part of the total person are so special and in so many instances so rare.

My second wife, as well as my current spouse are prime examples. My first wife was a very much go with the flow person and I often thought if I told her I would be gone for a few months to complete gender reassignment surgery, she would have not missed me. Second wife was very much against me being a transgender woman at all and Liz, my current wife encouraged me to follow my gender dreams. I guess you could say I covered almost all the aspects of being married when all my spouses knew I was at the least a cross dresser or transvestite from the very beginning of our relationships. The only feeling I hid was the fact I was so much more than just a relatively harmless cross dresser just pursuing a hobby. My excuse is the whole time I was hiding the truth from myself as I tried my best to live a lie as a male person.

Looking back at my second wife a little deeper, I think she was suffered from a little paranoia of her own sexuality. We were members of a very active civic organization which did an incredible amount of good in the community. Within the group were several women whom I considered to be lesbians as well as a couple gay guys. All were in the closet and nothing was ever said, I think. What I wonder is if my wife ever was attracted to those other women and was in fact some sort of an embedded lesbian. It is all speculation on my part because she passed away in 2007.  Sometimes I think she protested my gender dysphoria too much.

 The exact opposite happened with Liz, my current wife. When we met, I was still trying to live a life which straddled both of the two main gender binaries. Within a very short period of time, she told me I should shed what was left of my male self and live entirely as my feminine self. As it turned out, she was the final push I needed to come out of my closet and live as my authentic self.

For all of you who are fortunate and have an accepting spouse, you have an understanding of what I am attempting to say. Gender is such a basic need and to change it is such a big deal. Often the road to acceptance for wives takes years. If you have the power to do it, try to understand all the dynamics which are going on. Plus, if you can do it, try to put the shoe on the other foot and what if your spouse was considering changing their lifestyle in such a dramatic way. 

What if you could change or not. 

It's Complicated

 

Transgender Image 
from UnSsplash

As I transitioned, my overall life process became so much more complicated.

Fortunately during most of the time I did not receive many questions concerning my gender. It's not that I would have not answered most of the questions, even if anyone asked. It turned out the most sensitive question I do dislike is have I had any surgeries "down there". In fact, I reported a rude nurse during a mammogram I had asking the exact same question. It was certainly none of her business.

What also became very complicated was my life as a whole. The more I found I could live a life as a transgender woman, the more I wanted to pursue it. When I did, I ran head on into several major problems. The first of which was my second wife. As I write about often, she and I were married for twenty five years before she passed away. In addition she knew from the beginning I was a transvestite or cross dresser and my cross dressing initially had no bearing on our marriage. When I wanted to take my life a huge step forward and begin hormone replacement therapy, she drew the line. In no way did she want to live with another woman. As I began to be that other woman, our life together became very complicated and many huge fights happened.

The second main issue I faced was with my male self. He was rapidly seeing his life fade away and wanted to hang on as long as he could. Sooner more than later, the scales tipped and when I was still in my male role, I felt as if I was cross dressing as a man. At this point I was in an extra complicated relationship with the two most important people in my life...my wife and myself. In other words, two women fighting for my life. I was under intense pressure to make a decision on what I was going to do. I ended up attempting to live separately between the two major binary genders. I was torn completely on what my final decision would be.

At this point is when destiny stepped in and helped to make my decision for me.  When my wife passed away, there was really no one to tell me not to transition. From then on,  I had to begin to rely upon myself to make the final decisions on what I would live my life as. Continue as a man or explore the possibility of living as a transgender woman. It turned out I was soon helped along by a new set of accepting cis-woman friends I encountered along the way when I was out trying to enjoy myself. Through my powers of observation, I was able to sit back and learn more of what it meant to live a feminine life. We went to all kinds of places from LGBTQA Pride celebrations to lesbian mixers to women's roller derby matches. I had a good time and learned so much. Mainly that I did not need a man to validate myself as a transgender woman.

Very quickly when I decided to leave my male life behind, I knew very quickly I had made the right decision. It seemed as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. From that point forward to the present day, my life has been remarkably uncomplicated once I faced my gender issues.  

Stages

Image from the
Jessie Hart Collection.

 Our topic today in my Veterans Administration group concerns the trials and tribulations of coming out, or letting others in to our authentic selves.

When I think back to my process of letting others in to me, I have a tendency to just zero in on two people, my daughter (only child) and my only sibling, a brother. To make a long story short, my daughter was very accepting and my brother was the opposite. In fact, I have not talked to him to this day. Sad but true. Overall, the real staging process came way before I came out or let some one in. 

In truth, I came out in stages when I experimented with testing the public as my novice feminine self. Thinking back, my first attempts at "showing off" came during Halloween parties. I started, predictably enough, with trying to dress as sexy as I could and telling everyone my "costume" was a prostitute. Over the years of trying, I slowly evolved into just trying to present well enough at the parties for others to think I was a cis-woman. As even that worked for me, it was time to consider my next move or stage I was going to.

What I decided on was I couldn't stand to wait another year to be in the public's eye as whatever label you wanted to attach to me. Cross dresser, transvestite, or even novice transgender woman were all possibilities What really mattered was I was finally beginning to adjust to living in a new gender world I had only dreamed of. Once I made it to one stage, I always thought I could make it to another. I was successful in doing the grocery shopping all the way for shopping for the Christmas gifts I was going to give away. As my new self. It was as scary as it was exciting.

It turned out the more stages I was successful on, the more I needed to be. Which led me on a collision course with my old worn out male life. Even though I was fairly successful living as a man, he could tell his time on my stage was coming to an end and did not appreciate it. It was around this time also when I hit the darkest time of my life. In the several years when my second wife passed away, I also lost nearly all of my very few male friends I had to death also. I was extremely lonely and turned to my feminine self to fill the void. I would cross dress to blend and go out to treat myself to a drink in one of the venues I had become a regular in. Since I really wasn't seeking companionship, I guess you could say I was going out to be alone.

Through it all, this stage of my life proved to me I could live as a transgender woman. All the other stages of my life all of a sudden became clear and I knew all the years of living on a male stage had been mostly a waste of time. The main thing that wasn't was the birth of my very supportive daughter. Which I would never have achieved if I wasn't on the male stage. 

Today, I won't have a very long time to explain the slow route I took to letting others into my true self.  Hopefully, writing about the process ahead of time makes it clearer to others.

Moving Parts

 

Image from the Paris 
Photographer on
Unsplash.

During my life watching how cis women move has been one of my favorite activities.

One thing is for sure, I knew from the interactions I had with other male type persons I dealt with, I was not alone. I will not go into the comments I heard from the guys. But once I began to leave the mirror world I was in as a cross dressing transvestite, I knew putting the image into motion would not be easy. I had no real idea of how women managed to do so many things with their body as they moved. They seemed to have so many more moving parts than men.

When I first started my path to living fulltime as a transgender woman, I found myself overcompensating. I was concentrating too much trying to move like a woman. I was overdoing it. It was about this time I tried to practice at times even when I was cross dressed as a man. Later in the evenings I went to big box stores which were mostly deserted to practice my walk. I probably attracted the attention of several security guards watching me on their hidden cameras but that was it. Once I started to relax, I was able to attempt moving as a woman to higher standards.

Back in those days, I usually wore  high heels when I went out. So negotiating the world in them was a challenge in itself. I think I did fairly well, except for a few highly publicized instances which I have written about here. Sidewalks with cracks became a challenge as well as large ventilation grates which I learned the hard way to avoid. I think just being in heels added a certain amount of feminine power to my presentation as well as helping the shape of my legs. Sadly, as I aged my ankles did also. All those years of walking concrete floors in restaurants as well as a few old football injuries made wearing heels impossible for me and I needed to learn to put together my feminine moving parts all over again.

These days, I think much of the cis woman world has caught up to me as I rarely see any women wear heels where I live. I estimate at the business professional Alzheimer's breakfast  meeting I went to, only two or three women were wearing heels. All of that is  here or there and since I have known for years transgender women have to try harder to prove themselves, I wonder what the world would be like for me again if I was able to wear heels. Would wearing them call unwanted attention to me? 

On certain days too, my mobility issues do their best to get the best of me. So moving at all takes precedence over stressing over feminine movements. As fall comes closer with it's cooler temperatures I plan on beginning my daily walks again which should help my overall health. In my own small way I will be able to work on my moving parts again. Before I need to increase my stamina to walk in to the hospital for my upcoming mammogram which I still have to schedule.

As with anything else in life, cis women lead a more challenging layered lifestyle than men as they are the high maintenance gender. It makes sense feminine moving parts are no different as the total gender package comes together. Yet another challenge for the transgender woman. . 

Pushing Trans Boundaries

 

Image from the Jessie Hart
Collection.. Back drop, the Ohio
River

Along the way, as the years went by I began to really push many of the transgender boundaries I faced.

A primary example was when I thought I had conquered one of my goals, such as my feminine presentation, I set a new goal. Often I went to different places and/or venues to see if I presented well enough to be accepted as a transgender woman. After malls and clothing stores became too easy for me, I expanded to stopping at restaurants to eat. Which in turn forced me into more one on one communications with complete strangers. I pushed the boundaries past just routine chit-chat eventually into full fledged conversations. I learned the hard way not to worry so much about how my voice was sounding and begin to consider more and more what I was saying. 

For a while it seemed, the challenges I was facing in those years were becoming overwhelming as I pushed my gender boundaries even further. Another major jump occurred when I decided to stop going to the so-called safe spaces which were the gay venues I was going to. I finally decided if I was going to feel like an outcast, I might as well do it in a venue I felt more comfortable in. I began to go to upscale sports bars and restaurants with many televisions and cold draft beer which I enjoyed. Since I stood out from the crowd for being transgender, I minded my own business and tipped well ,so in most places I became a regular fairly easily. On occasion, I still pushed too hard and ended up getting kicked out of a couple places I shouldn't have been in to start with. Lessons were learned.

Slowly but surely the process finally did become a blur. I made new friends and was beginning to thrive in my dream life of being a transgender woman. The biggest remaining problem I had at the time was I was still married. At that point my second wife and I had been together for nearly twenty five years. From the beginning she knew I was a transvestite or cross dresser and didn't really have any problems with it. However, when any discussion at all came up about the possibility of going further and beginning hormone replacement therapy, she drew the line.  Any time I tried to push the boundary farther, the more she resisted.  In many ways it was similar to the rock meeting the irresistible force and it was ugly. More precisely though, I had started the catfight of all catfights between my wife and my inner feminine soul who had finally been able to sample life in the world. Once she had seen the daylight, there was no way my feminine self wanted to give it up. From there, destiny took over.

When my second wife passed away, it didn't take long for my inner woman to take over. She pushed hard and became the dominant force in my life. Quickly it became evident she had known the path to take my entire life. She began to push my transgender boundaries until my life became meaningful again. My male self faded away. 

Transgender Safe Spaces

Image from Nicole Herrero
 on Unsplash

Yesterday was the annual picnic I have written about in the past. It was hosted by the transgender-transvestite-cross dresser group I am a member of here in Cincinnati.

Again this year, we were blessed with a wonderful summer afternoon. Attendance was good also, with a nice mixture of younger transgender women, mixed in a few trans men as well as older attendees such as myself. The group provided hamburgers and hot dogs and the rest of the food came from a "pot-luck" where everybody brings something. So there was plenty to eat including a special shout out to Wendy for her "world famous" cheesecake. Even my wife Liz and I "forgot" our diet to have a piece and it lived up to it's billing.

What also lived up to it's billing was the safe space atmosphere of the picnic. The group reserved a very nice shelter house and short speeches were given by a new group of members who traveled the distance to the state capital of Columbus, Ohio. To fight the bigoted legislators attempting to pass anti-transgender legislation. It was refreshing to see so many younger faces fighting for our rights. 

My main point is, the picnic provided a safe space for the transgender community locally to express itself. Everyone could come, relax and enjoy themselves. Exactly what the world "should" be like for us. In addition, the picnic showed us what could be if we are just left to live without any interference. 

Along the way in life, often transgender women and trans men are able to find and enjoy other space spaces. In my past, for example, after I got over my initial panic of going, the several girl's nights out I went to ended up being safe spaces for me. I was able to relax and live and learn from the experiences. I am fortunate too in that I normally have my wife Liz with me when I am out in the world. In essence she provides an interference when people attempt to zero in on me. Often I think the worst than can happen is when we hold hands in public. I think some people may have a problem with two women holding hands. However, not having another hand to hold was the biggest thing I missed when my second wife of twenty five years passed away. So I am enjoying it while I can.

Also, events such as the picnic provide various levels of acceptance for younger members who need to see older trans people who have lived their authentic lives for years. In doing so, we provide a distinct pathway to the future. In many senses we become sort of a legacy member. While the younger members are picketing the state house, other's of us such as I are becoming part of diversity committee's. Anything is possible often if we slowly try to show the world who we really are. 

At my age, for many reason's I need to take a slower path and in the meantime wait for my second piece of Wendy's cheesecake.

A Problem or Opportunity

Image from Elisa Ventur on 
UnSplash

Over the years I spent too much time wondering the how's or whys of how I needed to carry my considerable gender dysphoria with me. 

It seemed the cruel truth was the more I thought I solved my problems, the more I discovered there were so many more to worry about. Examples are many. Once I became polished enough in my feminine presentation, the more I explored other frontiers which led me to other problems. You may get the idea I was in a vicious circle I struggled to get out of/. As I was able to get my high heeled foot through the door as a transgender woman, then I needed to figure out a way to communicate with the world. What about my voice? More importantly what was I saying when I tried to say it. I found (often the hard way) cis women communicate on many layers include non verbal eye cues. I was saved several dangerous or messy situations with men simply because a staff member gave me a certain look or glance to stay away from him.

At times at seemed I was overwhelmed by the amount of gender problems I was creating for myself. The whole experience was at once very terrifying and at the same time so exciting. In other words, I was turning my problems into opportunities. I was finally following my ultimate dream, to see if I could indeed live a life as a fulltime transgender woman. The opportunities took over and the problems began to fade away.

All of it required a concerted effort to pull my entire new feminine image together. A static image in a mirror or a picture was one thing but putting it all in motion was another. I'm sure we all remember the first times we attempted to walk in heels. It was difficult for me to not look like a linebacker in heels when I first began to venture out in public as a novice cross dresser or transvestite. Of course I made my share of mistakes such as wedging my heels in sidewalk cracks all the way to totally falling. Luckily all which was injured was my pride. 

Eventually I arrived at the point where I had much more opportunity than problems. I was beginning to experience much more opportunity as I began to put a totally new transgender person together. I was out of the mirror and letting the world in. For better or for worse. In the meantime, destiny took over and I was adopted by several special cis-women friends. They helped me through several of my final biggest problems. I was able to turn the problems into opportunities by sheer observation. I was used to watching women as a lifetime obsession so the whole process was normal for me. The main difference was, for a change, they included me as an equal in their world. 

Now I feel my main opportunities come from writing about my transgender experiences. All the way to increasing my volunteer time with organizations such as the Alzheimer's Association. Plus, I have a goal also to eventually become more involved again in the transgender-transvestite/cross dresser group I have been a member of for years. 

Perhaps, the term opportunity can be changed to fulfillment. 

Come On In!

Image from A Zuhri

 I mentioned this comment briefly in yesterday's post. Recently, in my newest Veteran's Administration LGBTQA+ group session. The moderator brought up a new concept, instead of coming out, in reality we transgender folk are inviting others in.

This is a fairly radical idea when you take into consideration all the anti-transgender legislation which has been unleashed upon us by a certain political party not called the Democrats. Even still. the entire idea has a positive ring to it. Imagine having the comfort level (and/or confidence) to invite friends and family in to share your deepest darkest secret. The inner secret you have carried around your entire life. I know when I came out to others for the first time, I was in some sort of a gender free fall. In essence I had been stripped of all my old male reactions to any adversity. I needed to learned quickly the different gender path I would need to take to survive.

Truth be known, cis-women have known the alternate path for years. Often, in their own way, the women said to others come on in and then they needed to sort out the fall out from there. It doesn't really matter because in everyone's life, we have to sadly face it's ups and downs. Relationships of course are included. My coming out example was very unpleasant in it's own way. It happened way back when I talked my first fiancé into dressing me head to toe as a woman. Then proceeded to still do it weeks and months later. She eventually held it against me when Uncle Sam and the military draft came a knocking when I graduated from college. She fully expected me to try to escape serving by telling the world I was gay. Which was wrong. I knew I was learning how much I didn't want to be a man but I wasn't sure I wanted to change my sexuality.

The entire series of events turned out to be an extremely beneficial  part of my life. My fiancé and I broke up and I moved on to serving three years in the Army. Ironically, the first people who I ever invited into my gender world occurred after a Halloween party I went to when I was serving in Germany. The woman who eventually ended up being my first wife and mother of my daughter essentially met me there at the party. So she was one of the few I let in. Ultimately, one of the biggest success stories of my life.

Even though I thought I was fighting the best I could letting anybody in, in truth I was pressuring myself to come out. All the Halloween parties I went too in my feminine "costume" just served notice how badly I wanted to let others in. During the parties, I  secretly rejoiced when anyone else told me how convincing I was. Later on, I pushed the gender envelope even farther by leaving the house during the day fully cross dressed as a woman. Putting everything I knew in life into jeopardy. Deep down I wanted to be caught.

Finally the whole intricate process came tumbling down. Call it what you want coming out, or letting in. It had to happen before the gender ripping and tearing nearly killed me. 

  

Serendipity

 First of all, maybe a little definition to the serendipity word would help this post. 

From an on line dictionary I read from, it defined the word as "The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way. " Today I was able to put my gender dysphoria aside and experience gender serendipity. The chance occasion came when I went with my wife Liz to her Doctor's appointment. For the occasion I chose one of my newer summer lightweight tank tops. It is tie died with a big peace sign and the slogan , Every little thing gonna be alright. For once we took a picture. Completing the casual outfit was a pair of jeans and my new tennis shoes. Nothing too fancy for the Doc's and the heat. 

The fun part came when when went into the office and a man held the door open for us. He was wearing a nice The Ohio State University polo shirt so Liz said "Go Buckeyes!" He responded with "O.H" and I said "I.O." From there on we were off to a good morning.

The best part to me was being totally ignored by all the waiting people in the office. It didn't matter, I was essentially invisible. Not transgender for a change. Just me and it felt good. Kids and all ignored me. It felt so good to put my gender dysphoria behind me and just live my life. 

While I am on the subject of current events, in yesterday's Veterans Administration  LGBTQA+ group meeting, I learned a relevant idea which in the future I will be writing about more. In essence, the subject came up of how and who we came out to first. The moderator pointed out maybe we should think of the process different. To the point of not coming out, it's who we are letting in. Or more serendipity with one's self.

Also coming up this weekend, is the transgender-transvestite or cross dresser group I am part of' annual summer picnic. Fortunately, the heat dome which is torturing most of the country is going to back off for the day and we will have high's in the mid 80's. At the least, if the affair is as well attended as it was last year, we will be able to see many old acquaintances we haven't seen in a while. 

I need to enjoy this brief respite from my mirror induced gender dysphoria. One never knows when it will flair up again. It shouldn't for the picnic since most of the attendees have known me for awhile and we can enjoy the company.   

I don't ever say it enough but thanks to all of you who read my blog posts regularly. You are the ones who make the process so worthwhile!

Gender Dysphoria

 

/Image from UnSplash

The confusion suffered when a person has a problem deciding which gender they are is often a cruel lifetime curse.

After all these years of living a reasonably successful life as a fulltime transgender woman, when I look in the mirror in the morning and really anytime, I still see a man looking back at me on occasion. Surely my hormone replacement therapy (or whatever it is called today) has aided in my transition but the problem just won't seem to go away.

It is about this time, when I am becoming discouraged concerning my appearance, I look at the reality of the situation. Which is, at the age of seventy three, there will be little more than I can do to insure the world sees me in a more feminine way. All those years of testosterone took it's toll. I do know also I could consider facial femininization surgery but the cost and pain just wouldn't be worth it. So, by my own choice I am stuck with what I see in the mirror.

Not too long ago I was watching one of my guilty pleasure reality talk shows when the host had on a beautiful transgender woman. Along the way during the interview she told the world she was thinking of having facial surgery which amazed the host and I. When he asked why, she said she still saw her old male self when she looked in the mirror. Sad but true.

It is my understanding too that growing up transgender does not automatically guarantee you will have suffered from any gender dysphoria at all. I found out the hard way years ago when I went to one of my transgender-transvestite support group meetings. I brought up my gender dysphoria issues and was quickly told by the moderator she had never suffered from the problem at all. She later went on to completing a gender realignment surgery so I have often wondered one of two things. The first, did she change her mind or two, did she even know what the term meant. Regardless, I learned my lesson and did not bring it up again. 

Regardless, I needed to find away to deal with my own gender dysphoria. After years of turmoil. I finally decided I didn't look as bad as a transgender woman or as good as the mirror sometimes told me I did. I just tried my best, as any cis woman does (on occasion) to look her best when she goes out into the public's eye. Presenting privilege's are so difficult to come by for any transgender person who is attempting to cross the gender border. Think of it this way, there are many cis-women who struggle to have any presenting privilege at all and supposedly the women had the benefit of growing up female. 

I am sure I will take my own gender dysphoria with me to my grave. My biggest paranoia is the dysphoria will not helped along by any assisted care facility I may find myself in.        

Acceptance

 

Image from Damir Kopezhanov
on UnSplash

Recently I attended my first Alzheimer's of Cincinnati diversity group session.  

There were five people including me and truthfully, they were not very diverse. The group included one African American, one Jewish woman with her daughter and a couple of other women. I didn't enter the group looking for much more, in fact, I didn't know what to expect. The only thing I didn't want to happen was for anyone to disrespect me by using the wrong pronouns. It was new for me because I was the one seemingly adding most of the diversity. 

 The meeting went smoothly with me being responded to as "she". Where it will go from here will be interesting also. The moderator was pressing me to "recruit" other members of the "Crossport" transgender-transvestite organization of which I am a part of. I told her it would be easier said than done because even though the group is fairly large, the over- whelming largest portion of the members are still firmly in the closet. 

I wonder too, when the monthly diversity meeting in two months will be held in person, will anyone have a different reaction to me. I wouldn't think so but sometimes my gender dysphoria just gets a chance to work overtime. The next  meeting in August  will be virtual too. So it won't be until September until I meet everyone in person,  so I will have plenty of time to worry about it. 

Anyway you cut it, acceptance is nice. Especially when I have another chance to be out on the world as a proud (sometimes confident) transgender woman. My goal is to become an outreach person who has information about where to go for elderly care assistance in the area. So even though, a person's parent my not be LGBTQ+, I still will be able to relay any information I may have when it comes to Alzheimer's Elderly care of any type. 

Now, coming up next will be my third (out of ten) virtual meetups with the Dayton, Ohio Veterans Administration. They are trying their own outreach to LGBTQA+ veterans within their system. I am particularly wanting to provide feedback because of the initial failings I encountered when I first came out years ago. I will say now, in their (the VA's) dealings with me I have seen a noticeable improvement in many areas and I don't feel so much as a "trail blazer" like I did when I first entered the VA system. 

With both personal attempts to do more with the public to help others struggling with their gender issues, I will be paying forward the good karma I will need in the future. 

Refining the Gender Lines

 

Photo from the
Jessie Hart
Archive

As I began to face the world as a novice transvestite, cross dresser or transgender woman, I discovered I had many blurred lines I needed to address. 

In other words, I needed much more work before I ever could understand completely the odds I was facing. The biggest problem I had was I was never naturally feminine, or so I thought. So I needed to begin from scratch to build my feminine self. I write long and often concerning all the public humiliation I suffered when I initially began to leave my gender closet and go out in public. At the beginning, I was ultra careful to go to dark places which were not well populated by the public. Something I learned the hard way later on not to do in my transition. 

One of the few good things I can say about that time in my life was, I had the time I needed to experiment with my presentation. I could secretly go to thrift stores and purchase clothes (at a bargain price) which I thought would look good on me and even fit properly. During my quest to improve my look, I was able to spend very little money and at the same time hide what I was doing from my wife. I remember saving every little bit of extra change I could manage and spend it during the thrift stores bargain or dollar days. Because of the experience, destiny was on my side and I was slowly able to improve my presentation. Especially when I really saved up and was able to purchase a fairly nice wig. 

Ironically, the more lines of my looks I was able to refine, the more I discovered I needed to work on. Back in those days I obsessed on having no hair on my legs, putting together a perfectly matched outfit and finishing it off with just the right accessories. I would spend hours shopping for just the right addition to my presentation. It was around that time when I finally was able to recognize and try my best to blend in with the women around me. I had acquired a business professional wardrobe to wear when I went to upscale malls as well as the new club venues I was trying out. On the other hand, I had other clothes which scaled my look back a bit for when I was first trying out going to large sports bar venues. My goal was to refine my myself so I would do my best to fit in.

The more I worked at it, the better I became and I learned if I didn't listen to my male self and try to dress too sexy and/or trashy, I actually could make a small place in the world for myself as a transgender woman. 

Even at that point, I discovered I still had a ton of refinement to go through as I progressed towards my goal. Primarily, I needed to learn to communicate with the new world I discovered as a feminine person. Quickly I was presented with public levels which went from those people who didn't bother to notice me at all, all the way to those curious types who wanted to know more about transgender women. I can only say making the transition was not easy. It seemed to me for awhile every stranger had their own potential questions to pursue. Finally, I learned they didn't and again life became easier when I discovered the whole world wasn't looking at me. Or, as my second wife told me, it wasn't all about me. 

Refinement in the gender world comes difficultly to everyone. Born female does not make you a woman, you need to grow into it. It just seems, refining our gender lines as a transgender woman or trans man comes as a much more difficult process. Because for the most part we didn't have any help. 

Magnificent Obsession

Image from UnSplash

Early in life when I was going through the difficult steps of attempting to sort out my gender dysphoria, one of my ideas was my desire to be feminine was merely an obsession.

On good days, I even thought what I was going through was an evil joke which I would out grow. Naturally I never did out grow wanting to be a woman and on the other hand just grew into it. To arrive at understanding my gender journey, I needed to make many twists and turns along the way. The first involved just not getting caught when I tried to cross dress as a girl for my favorite mirror. I have no idea now how I got away with everything I did. Including even shaving the hated hair from my legs. My biggest problem was having an ever inquisitive slightly younger brother who was always getting in my way. 

As I grew into (then out of) my ideas of cross dressing being a harmless hobby, I again began to wonder if the whole process I was living was still an obsession. As I did though, my mind was flooded with reassurances I was on the right path with my gender issues. I spent too many hours obsessing on the next time I would be able to cross dress in my feminine clothes. I often wish I had the time back I wasted on my magnificent obsession. When I couldn't dress when I wanted to, it made me a nasty person and one which was not easy to live with. All because I was having a hard time living with myself. It was a period of my life I am not proud of.

Finally, when I could take the gender pressure no longer, I began to venture out of my deep, dark and lonely gender closet. I learned the obsession was only going one way and it was because my old male self was obsessed with holding on to his life, no matter what. It was then I entered my transgender stage of my life. When I decided to go out in the public's eye as a woman. Not as a person just trying to look like one. Even though the process was tremendously frightening, it was equally as enlightening. I found once I did it, I could exist in the public's eye as the feminine person I always dreamed of being. From that point forward the magnificent obsession flipped and I knew I could pursue a life as a transgender woman. A life I had only dreamed of.

Even though I found a feminine transgender life may be possible, my male self was still busy whispering in my ear. He was saying what about telling friends, family and what about my job. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. It was extremely difficult to uproot a male life I was so entrenched in to begin a new one. I write often on how much the gender pressure effected me. I was so close to my dream yet so far away. Plus even though I was close, there was still so much to learn to fulfill my phantom obsession of being invited to play in the girl's sandbox. 

Call it what you will but my magnificent obsession led me to finally living my dream as a fulltime transgender woman.    

Gender Copycats?

 

Image from Kelly Sikkema
on UnSplash

Just one of the major misconceptions transgender women and trans men face is we are just copying the gender we are transitioning into.

The majority of people never come to, or accept the fact we are not copying anything. We are just in the process of becoming our true selves. I know my first inkling I was doing much more than copying the girls I admired so much than just copying them. When I grew tired of just looking at myself in the mirror, I knew I needed to move forward or continue to be completely miserable. Or, I was quickly tired of just being a cross dresser long before the term transgender was ever invented. It is one of those times I wish I had known then what I know now.

As the years of life flew by, so did my feelings about being feminine. I grew more and more into being the newer transgender label. For some reason even needing a label appealed to me. Somehow the process made me feel closer to a group of like minded individuals. When I first began my search I was struggling to find such a group. The first mixers I attended which labeled themselves as being only for heterosexual transvestites, were far from being only for those people. I discovered a wonderful mixture of every sort of person from male admirers, to hetero cross dressers to very feminine and sexually ambiguous transsexuals.  Deep down I thought I needed a place to fit in but it was very difficult for me to do so. I was very frustrated to have come this far to still have no answers. It turned out I would have to live many more years until my major gender questions would be answered. 

Ironically, the only questions I had answers for were the fact any answers I found just led me to more questions. Was I really just copying the women I admired so much, or were my feelings much deeper than all of that. To arrive, I found I needed to explore more completely who I was as a person. Was I truly a transgender person and what did that mean anyhow. Fortunately by that time, the world was catching up with me and I found comparisons with other like minded transgender women who felt they didn't completely fit in with the world. Of course it was scary to leave my comfortable male past behind but I discovered a new incredible feminine life I couldn't live without. I finally learned I was far more than just a gender copycat which a part of an unapproving world said I was. 

Through my journey, I remained way too loyal to my old male self. Eventually, the gender pressure became too much and I needed to be man enough to leave my past behind me. I chose to live in the real world, the feminine one and not look back. I was not in anyway shape or form a copycat of anyone else. Once I really began to transition in earnest, I learned the hard part was behind me. My inner feminine soul was ready willing and able to take over my life as only she could. She was telling me in no uncertain terms she was reaping the benefits now of having to live in the background for so many years. 

One way to completely upset her is to say she is a gender copycat of any sort. She has paid her dues to be her own person.

Gender Countdown

 

Image from the Jessie Hart
Archives

My journey to living my dream as a transgender woman admittedly took a long time. 

Too long to many who blame me for waiting so long and tried to say I was somehow less transgender than they were. Which of course, I immediately dismissed. After all after I had spent nearly a half a century to achieve my goals, who were they to question me anyhow. Also, they dismissed me since I turned my back on any possible gender altering surgeries. My reasons included not wanting to undertake any serious surgeries at my age. I was in my early sixties when I decided to undergo HRT which I still call "Hormone Replacement Therapy.' Since I understand has been relabeled in some circles. It's interesting in that the topic this week of my Veteran's Administration group session this week included two full pages on just transgender related labels from over the years.

Then, there was always the matter of trying to properly present  my feminine gender in a brave new world. Along the way, a trans woman friend of mine told me I passed out of sheer willpower. Which I took to mean, I was going out in the world doing the best I could and I would learn as I went along. Similar to on the job training. As I continued my on the job gender training, I learned the hard way, the more I learned the more I needed to learn.

I was fortunate in that my entire life I made observing women a priority. By doing so, I had a head start when it came to surviving in a new world. Even though I had made major strides, I found I could not learn enough to overcome all of the obstacles I would face. The main one was to be worried about my own personal safety. Looking back, it was the main male privilege I lost when I transitioned. There were many more but none where I had my safety questioned several times by stray men. 

For some reason, destiny led me into the company of lesbians when I was included into a small circle of friends I socialized with. With them, I learned to be an observer more than an active participant until I began to gather my confidence. From there I learned also how women don't need a man for verification. It was during this period of my life my gender countdown really became faster. I began to make up for lost time. 

Perhaps the final and biggest push to my countdown came when my future wife Liz told me I should complete my MtF gender transition. She told me at the time she had never seen anything male about me at all. Finally the doors were opening for me to live my transgender dream. To celebrate, Liz was with me the night I took the first minimal HRT dosage. 

The only regret I have on my countdown, is I put myself through so much torment before I completed it. (To my specifications.) I could have saved myself another suicide attempt as well as other unpleasant possibilities My gender countdown would have come to an unpleasant end. .

Staying in my Own Lane

Image from Mathew Henry
on UnSplash 

When I first began to leave the dark lonely confines of my gender closet, in a small amount of time I learned the difficult way the amount of work it would take to bring my presentation standards up to a new level.

In other words, I needed to grow out of my teen dressing ideas and proceed on with my life as a novice transvestite or cross dresser. At the same time I found myself in a position to actually present well enough in the public's eye to get by. Believe me, there was much more error than trial when I first started my journey to being a transgender woman. 

During that time also, I was receiving strong messages from my inner male to stay in the lane I was born into. Why give up all the work I had put into being a success in a life I struggled to accept for a frivolous pursuit such as wanting to be feminine. The problem was the entire process wasn't frivolous at all and I discovered later I was dead serious when I veered out of my gender lane. When I tried to change lanes, the whole process was at once terrifying but at the same time so satisfying as I was driving to a new destination and leaving the old one in my rear view mirror. 

Once I began to arrive more and more in my exciting new world, the more my old male self began to fight the move. Mainly because I had so much to give up, such as family, friends and employment. The pressure was on and increased to an unbearable point in my life. When it did, I began to attempt more self harm to myself in a number of different ways. I began to leave the house cross dressed during the day in a medium sized town I was relatively well known in. I convinced myself that no one would recognize the feminine version of my male self. Plus, the going out went against every agreement my second wife and I had ever put together. She wasn't bothered so much by my cross dressing but was really paranoid about anyone seeing and recognizing me. 

It turned out the going out was the least of my problems when it came to the life's pressures I was trying to deal with. Every time I was discovered going out by my wife there were tremendous resulting fights. After one in particular I tried taking my own life with a mixture of anti-depression meds and alcohol. Bottom line was I felt so bad, I just wanted my life to end. Luckily, I was not successful and my life did turn around for the best when I was able to change lanes and live my dream as a fulltime transgender woman.

Staying in my own lane turned out to be impossible for me. Life finally showed me when I pulled out to pass, it worked. When I pulled back into my new lane, I never wanted to go back.    

Trans Girl and the Biker

Image from Gijs Coolen
on UnSplash

Several times during my life I have encountered key experiences which involved a motorcycle.

The first was in Cleveland, Ohio and involved my second wife. At the time I was a very novice transvestite or cross dresser out for one of my first ventures in public. Since my wife and I had some time to waste, we decided to find a venue to have a drink in during the afternoon. Before the mixer began. as we sat at the bar a loud motorcycle rolled up almost completely in front of the door. His "bike" was impossible to miss. 

As it turned out, he and my wife began talking. It was the first time I really had ever noticed her flirting with another man when I had been around. Naturally, this time, dressed the way I was head to toe as a woman, I couldn't do anything about it anyhow. The worst part to me was, she seemed to enjoy watching my reaction. For the first time in my life, I was competing with another woman for the attention of the motorcycle guy. Her conversation went to the point when and if he offered her a ride and I wondered if she was going to accept. After keeping me in limbo for what seemed like forever, he did and she turned him down and stayed with her husband/girlfriend. She had made her point and moved on as I was left to wonder what could have happened had she left with him. Since she has long since passed away, I will never know.

The second experience came years later in a suburb of nearby Dayton, Ohio. In a certain venue I had become a regular in, I had been accepted into a small group of rather diverse acquaintances. One lesbian and four or five straight folks. One of them was a big bear of guy who rode a classic motorcycle and ran the lumber section of a nearby large home improvement store. Another of the "regulars" was an exotic beautiful hair dresser who danced on the side. It turned out within a fairly short amount of time, she decided to marry the big guy. I thought at the time, she wasn't the marrying type and I was right. It turned out their marriage lasted  approximately one week and it was over. To make matters worse, everyone in the group except for me seemed to not care about his feelings. Slowly but surely, we began to chat and formed a small bond.

As we did, the rest of the group as well as some others in the venue began to notice. I just felt he was hurt and needed a shoulder to lean on and it almost worked out to taking a ride on the back of his motorcycle. Which would have been my first ever. I would have/should have pursued it more except back in those days I was wearing a wig and all I could imagine was my wig flying off when I was riding. The ride never came and shortly there after, he was transferred out of town to another store. Leaving me with another "what if" moment. He was one of the few men I had ever formed a bond with and I missed him.

Whatever the case, he left and life moved on as it always does. The only other encounter with a cycle man came at a highway waffle place when I suddenly encountered a real life outlaw biker type eating his breakfast. He paid me no real attention as I tried not to notice him and nothing happened. 

To this day, this trans girl has never even been on a motorcycle at all. It's OK though, I have enough other habits to keep me occupied.