Up the Down Staircase

Last night marked the end of my week long birthday fun. I don't believe I have ever cared enough about my birthday to even think much about it. This year though, my partner Liz has "engineered" quite the fun.

Back to last night. We went to a roof top steak house over looking the Ohio River and downtown Cincinnati. It rotates 360 degrees in approximately one hour.

I wore my embroidered long flowing black skirt with lace tank top and even had to break out my black leather jacket for a cool evening.

As we arrived, we naturally had to take one of the elevators up to the eighteenth floor where the restaurant was. For years, I have suffered my own personal transgender PTSD for being trapped in a relatively small box with people I don't know. For some reason I think one of them is going to whisper, isn't that a guy?

This time though, one guy proceeded to introduce his party of four to Liz and I, so I survived the short journey. As it turned out, we had to climb a short set of steps before we could get to our table. Dinner was enjoyable and the waiter called us "ladies" several times. Then the fun started.

As we approached the stairwell which went down to the elevators, there were probably at least twenty people and/or families waiting for their tables. I suffer from a small case of vertigo on steps, so I had to be very careful as I felt every eye was on me. Fortunately, I didn't stumble and every person I glanced at was just giving me an empty stare.

Finally, to cap the evening, one of my worst fears was realized...riding down in the elevator with five wet rowdy kids, trying to get back to the swimming pool. Not escorted by any adults. They were pretty much just interested in themselves, so once again everything turned out fine. It wasn't all about me.

It was another fun evening and I can't wait to do it again!

National Coming Out Day

Per norm, I am a little late, but yesterday was "National Coming Out Day" for LGBT women and men.

Also "per norm" my coming out was basically backwards. The first time I told anyone I was a "transvestite" came when I was in the Army in Germany. I had a very close knit group of three friends, one of which included my future first wife.

My disclosure came circa 1974 after a Halloween party when I came dressed as a slutty prostitute. Looking back, it's hard for me to remember how I was able to acquire the shoes, clothes, makeup and wig to even attempt to pull it off.

Seeing as how this was way before "Don't ask, don't tell" time in the military, I'm lucky I didn't get reported to the higher-ups. Maybe it did, but I only had less than six months to go before discharge and hassling me may have led to more problems than worth. Of course too, this was way before the transgender term had been invented.

At any rate, later on in life, one of the guys I came out to ended up coming on to me, the other remained a friend for years and as I said the woman involved ended up marrying me.

Ironically, outside of an ill fated attempt to come out to my Mom when I was discharged, coming out to anyone else didn't happen until I came out for good.

Sink or Swim?

In a recent post we discussed a forlorn transgender woman at one of my support group meetings. Sadly, I know she is far from being alone. Gender dysphoria is cruel to say the least. The only simple thing it does is to cause you to build an un- penetrable very dark and lonely closet  to hide in.

As Connie points out, too quickly it becomes a "sink or swim" situation:

FABULOUSCONNIEDEEOctober 10, 2018 at 12:20 PM

"I think I was about eight-years-old when my mother sent me to the community pool for swimming lessons. My grandfather was over for a visit when I came home, and he told me how his father had taught him to swim - "He just threw me in the lake, and I figured how not to drown."

Figuring out how not to drown and learning how to swim are not the same thing. Figuring out how to not let gender dysphoria drown you, likewise, is not the same as learning how to live with gender non-congruence. I call it "survive or thrive." I hope your friend learns how to survive long enough to find herself thriving."

Thanks for the comment!

Perhaps the saddest part of the trans woman's existence (in question) is her seeming total lack of regard for how she looks. Most of us learn early and often how much work it takes to perfect a feminine presence. At the least, a quick shave and a touch of makeup may do wonders for her. In other words, she is setting herself up for failure. 

Maybe if she keeps coming to the meetings, someone can help her with it and relieve some of her pressure. I think sometime in the near future, makeup and hair experts are returning to do free makeovers. Instead of going for the "naturals" in the group, maybe she could get some help. 

Even if someone has to tell her to shave.