Transgender Validation?

 Over the years and especially in the very beginning, I worked very hard to achieve my validation as a transgender woman. Or, better yet, being validated as a woman at all. To arrive at where I desperately wanted to be, I had to go through many steps...literally.  My example is was when I would practice walking femininely when I perceived I was reasonably alone in larger venues such as big box stores. Even though I was fairly certain I was not being observed, I am sure I probably made a security person's night on occasion. Regardless, I was obsessed with all things feminine. 

My obsession's of course led me into all sorts of clothes and fashion accessories. Money became the biggest concern before and after my wife's death. Before she passed away, I saved all the change and extra money I could to sneak out and shop for new clothes which I was certain would enable me to become the desirable feminine person of my dreams. I became very good at shopping discount racks at stores and going to thrift stores hunting for bargains. The mirrors in more than a few of these stores became my instant friend, for better or for worse. Another example was a powder blue wool coat I fell madly in love with at a certain  coat warehouse store. I went back so many times to try it on I am surprised I didn't get asked to leave. Sadly, I was never able to afford the coat.

Once I was able to afford a few cherished articles of feminine attire, I had to decide how "cherished" they really were and where I was going to hide them from my wife at home, It took me awhile to gather up the courage to use the women's dressing room, so even though I was getting better at sizes, it was still basically taking chances on which clothing's sizes would actually fit. What I mean is, one company's large would be another companies' medium. Plus, I had to go through my "teen girl" years when I tried to wear everything too short or too tight. It was no way to be validated anywhere but in the mirror which was lying to me. 

Now, lets get back to where I could actually put the items I purchased. Fortunately we lived in a big two story 1860's brick I was restoring, so we had plenty of storage space in out of the way closets. Closets that for some reason my wife never looked in. If she had, I am sure all hell would have broken loose if she had discovered the short, flirty tennis outfit I had put together to wear to the mall. All in all I think I probably ended up with three storage closets for my ever increasing wardrobe. 

Photo Courtesy
Jessie Hart

Looking back, I suppose all my obsession with women's fashion was a natural progression in my search for validation as a novice transgender woman. Today, I am more utilitarian in my approach to fashion. With the condition of my ankles there is no way I can wear heels of any height. So my charcoal boots with the one inch heel is the best I can do. The boots go well with my leggings, jeans and sweaters. Now with spring and summer approaching of course I have to shift wardrobe gears back to my collections of tank tops, t-shirts and blouses. I also have two soft maxi dresses which I adore. I save them for the hot summer months. 

 For me, a large part of my transgender validation now comes from the fact my breasts, hair and hips are all mine, From hormone replacement therapy of course. 

I still believe the tipping point for me in my validation came when I discovered I should be dressing for other women, not men. By doing so, I could blend in much easier with society and be accepted. Once I reached that point, my life as a novice transgender woman became clearer. 

Being human (I think) the fascinating part of all of this comes from the fact we are all different. More and more I am learning about couples staying together as one of them transitions. Yet, there are so many others who are forced to face the task of crossing the gender border to play in the sandbox  by themselves. Thus the points of validating your transgender self can be a highly fluid process. 

It's too bad the path to transgender validation can't be easier and more enjoyable. Not one of the most difficult journeys a human can take. 

Side Chick?

For years I have thought of the many times I went out into a feminine world to explore the possibility of living full time as a transgender woman. The more I did it, the more natural it became. In essense I learned fairly quickly I could exist in a feminine world. 

After my wife passed away and I started hormone replacement therapy, I became very lonely. To battle being alone, I essentially did what I called going out to be alone. Because I rarely interacted in the beginning with anyone until I began to form a whole new circle of friends. As I look back, I found I needed a better way to express what I was doing. 

Finally I came up with this blinding reality. I was slowing becoming my own "side chick." Unfortunately  for me it all starred when my wife was still alive. During all the nights I was out and about cross dressed as a woman when she was still at work. Those were the days when my self esteem as a man was at an all time low due to all the lying I was doing to her when at the same time my self esteem as a novice transgender woman was growing by leaps and bounds. All in all, it was a process I couldn't maintain. Living life with a foot in each of the binary genders was killing me. 

Becoming my own "side chick" definitely came with it's own set of ups and downs. I started the process by going to so called "safe" places such as predominately male gay venues. I found out quickly I wasn't really accepted there either. Plus I didn't like the music much anyhow. At that point I began to seek out two of the smaller lesbian bars which were relatively close to me. At one of them, they hated me but at the other I was accepted and had several interesting experiences. Which I will save for another post.

From the lesbian venues, I began to pull up my big girl panties by going to two of the big sports bars I used to frequent as a guy. All proceeded well as I slowly began to know several of the bartenders and or servers who looked out for me. The problem was I was a single woman in a venue which normally attracted many men. Many times, the trick I used to act like I was expecting company was to pull out my cell phone as if I was going to have a call. 

Even though being my own "side chick" was working for me, nothing could help when my wife passed away. Naturally I was very lonely and had pretty much been a social person for most of my life. Destiny was about to work in my direction and rescue me. The first big happening occurred when one of the bartenders I knew asked me if I would like to have a casual drink with her single mother. It all worked out very well and we remain friends to this day and I think of her daily. 

The second major meetup happened when another woman came into the sports bar to pick up a carryout order and slid me a note down the bar. The three of us used to get together at least once a week and even attended several lesbian mixers together.  Good times!

Photo Courtesy
Jessie Hart

By now, perhaps you regulars (thank you!) are maybe wondering where my partner Liz entered the picture with me. During this time also, I was still sorting all the trash I was receiving from several so called dating sites. I did have a couple quality dates when men but overall the selections were very slim. What did happen was Liz answered my "ad" saying I had sad eyes. In fact, I think I still have the "sad eyes" picture to share from ten years ago. We started corresponding and talking and I ended up moving in with her in Cincinnati.

As I look back on my "side chick " days the memories are certainly bittersweet. They were times of extremely terrifying yet exciting experiences as I was discovering all my authentic gender self had to offer.

Rest in peace side chick...hello real world. 

Monumental Woman

 This comment comes from Connie when I referred to her post about being called a "monumental woman"

"Being a “Monumental Woman” should be embraced. When the man in the grocery store called me that, I wasn’t, immediately, sure what he meant by it. It seemed to have been presented as a compliment, although it bordered on being a bit inappropriate. I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean that I strikingly resembled the Statue of Liberty, or that my face should be carved into the wall of Mt. Rushmore. Nevertheless, it did give cause for some self-reflection.

Photo Courtesy :
Connie Malone

For most of my life, living as a man, I was barely noticed at all. There was nothing about me that would cause heads to turn when I entered a room, anyway. Even during those years when I was pumping the weights to make my body large and rock-hard, there was nothing monumental about me. I’ll admit that there was some euphoria experienced when I flexed my 17” biceps, but it would always end up giving way to my gender dysphoria at some point. The whole effort was only a form of self-imposed conversion therapy, after all. As physically painful as it was when I decimated a rotator cuff, it was a relief to have it be an excuse for putting an end to my body building. *By the way, I had shoulder surgery at the same time a friend underwent gender reassignment surgery, and she recovered two months before I did.

I’m not very tall, really – 5’9”. When I wear heels, they are at least 3 ½”, because I think the shoes look better with a higher heel, considering the ratio to the length of a size 11 shoe. I have a few pairs that are 5”, but they’re for special occasions. So, in heels, I’m over 6 feet tall. That’s still not so very tall for a woman, but when I’m out with my wife I tower over her. She’s 5’2” tall and wears size 4 clothing. I usually check to see what height heels she’s wearing before we go out together. While she tells me that the height difference does not matter to her, I don’t feel like I need to make it any more apparent than it already is.

No matter where I go, or what the height of my heels are, I practice the same posture that my mother taught me. I hold my head high. When I walk into a room these days, I expect to be noticed. It’s not that I expect to be put on a pedestal like Lady Liberty, although I quite enjoy the liberty to be a statuesque lady (so to speak)."

Interesting! Thanks :)