Toxic Masculinity and the Trans Girl

Over the years when I was trying my best to exist in an ultra masculine world, I encountered too many men who would have been described as being toxic masculine. In essence they were the ones who tended to dismiss women as basically only emotional people who were only good for sex and/or having kids. 

I can truthfully say I wasn't an active part of their mentality but on the other hand was ashamed when I went along with their childish actions. I had two excuses. The first was in the business I was in I had to manage to the best of my ability a group of macho redneck cooks in a kitchen. I had to appear tough. The second was on the other hand I had to manage a group of mainly female servers, hostesses and bar tenders. Even then I was studying women intensely to learn how they really maintained in society so in many ways it was a labor of love. I learned my guys in the kitchen worked better when I could manage them as a team and the women worked better when I understood they were going to form their cliques anyhow, so adapt to them and hope for the best.

Further more I had to watch for frontal confrontations from the men and passive attacks from the women. Lessons which would serve me well later as I transitioned genders.  

Lessons I wish I had paid attention to didn't take long to happen. One night very early in my transition I found myself with a group of men discussing a topic I considered myself to be well versed in. Very early they shut me totally out as if I was never there at all. I thought it was one of my first opportunities to learn first hand what my life was going to be like as a transgender woman. I was right and on the other hand, my lessons learned from my work world worked well too. 

I also learned quickly the amount of  non verbal communication women use. It is no wonder most men say they can't understand women when they can't pick up non verbal cues. 

Photo by Icons8 Team on Unsplash

Ironically I had to change my stereotype of what a toxic man even looked like. When I began to explore the world, I attempted to stay clear of any man who looked like the macho type. not unlike my former self. It got so bad I couldn't even try to buy tickets for a sports event from a street "scalper" because they thought I was a cop. Slowly but surely I learned many of the "macho" men didn't seem to care much about me at all and weren't going to verbally attack me. My theory was they were more secure in their sexuality than the normal man. 

Of course recent political activities have made it possible for toxic masculinity to come out of the shadows and even thrive in some areas. Unfortunately the trans community, women and men, has been potentially the hardest hit. The attacks aren't just coming from cis men, they are coming from cis women as well.    

The future is not a given for anybody. Especially not the trans girl.  As always we are going to have to be better and fight for what we have.

Wigging Out

 Recently I wrote a post which detailed a few of my trials and tribulations I experienced with wigs before I was able to grow my own hair to a feminine length. Ironically, one of the first things I noticed was all of the sudden I had to somehow see the back of my head to check out my hair. No more easy out by using a wig head and stand. 

I received plenty of responses by readers who commented on their own wig experiences. Including Monica who currently is up to owning five wigs. I am sure at my height of "wigging out" I owned many more than that, so I understand the attraction. After all, wigs are a natural extension of our makeup and seemingly (at least for me) there was always another wig which would take me to the promised land and I would become the attractive feminine person I always wanted to be. Plus, I feel I was attempting to overcome the days of financial challenges when I couldn't afford much at all when it came to a hairpiece. 

It turns out, I wasn't alone when it came to being a struggling novice transgender woman on the search for the best possible hair. As has happened many times over the span of our lives, Connie and I share quite a similar history:

"At the age of 34, I was married with two young daughters. We’d just bought a house, and I was anxious to fix up the unfinished basement to make an office for my part-time business, as well as shelving for storing all of those seldomly used things, such as holiday decorations. I’d already put a door with a lock on it for my office, and then, late one night, I started organizing things on the shelves. When I got to the Halloween box, I took a peek inside. There it was: that black wig, along with all sorts of makeup. Now, I had worn that wig a few times on Halloween before, but it had been part of a monster-type of costume when I had. On this night, though, it brought back every memory of my feminine-self. I took the whole box, along with an old mirror that was in the basement, into my new office and locked the door behind me. Doing the best I could with what was available, I put the wig on my head and made up my face. Looking at myself in the mirror, I remember whispering, “You can do so much better than this.”

Photo Courtesy Connie Malone

Money was a little tight after just having had bought a house, but it was probably more on my mind to rebuild a feminine wardrobe and accessories as cheaply as possible out of my renewed guilt. My wife had a basket full of makeup that she’d given up on, so I could easily take what I needed from that. I ordered a dress, a pair of heels, and some undergarments from the Sears catalogue, which I could discreetly pick up at the store’s will call. A new wig, though, was more difficult to find without, I thought, outing myself. Somehow, I discovered that K-Mart sold wigs, so I got what I determined to be the best one that was available at the time. It was brown in color, just as my mother’s wigs were, and somewhat contemporary in style (as contemporary and stylish as one might expect to find at K-Mart, anyway). I remember shunning the blonde wig, at the time, as I thought it to be “overdoing it.” I bought that wig, along with a set of wrenches as an attempted cover, and thus began my return to the pursuit of womanhood."

Thanks for the comment! It's amazing to me how the slightest trigger object can lead us back into fond memories of our feminine pasts. Mine was a long blond wig I fell in love with and managed to buy for my then fiancé. She wouldn't wear it but of course I would. That hairpiece managed to stay with me for many years. Even surviving my time in the military and several ill fated "purges" I attempted when I resolved myself to never cross dress again. That really worked out! I haven't cross dressed as a man for nearly a decade. 

I can't make the point enough. I am so lucky to have been able to grow a full head of hair. Now I have to get back to a salon and let a hairdressing professional take care of it. Before it begins to appear as if I have been wigging out.  

Just Passing Thru

 Over the past several days and weeks I have happened along several acquaintances I made over the years. Of course when you get to be my age (72) the opportunity grows to have more people who have just passed through your life. Then again too, I wonder about some of them making a larger influence on my life. 

In the middle of it all was my twenty five year relationship with my deceased wife, my five year relationship with my first wife and my current relationship which is going strong at nearly eleven years. I guess you can say if nothing else I have been loyal. As I think about all the others is when I get bogged down with all the "what if's". What if the woman I met in a Columbus Ohio lesbian bar and went to a party with wanted to see me again? Similar to the date I had with a guy in Dayton, Ohio? I could go on and on  The differences were my wife was still very much alive when I met the first woman and I really couldn't visualize myself with anyone else but the guy was much different. I was on my own and actively exploring my own sexuality. In essence I was all over the gender spectrum although I still knew I liked women. The allure of having validation from the male gender was powerful also.

As life has a way of doing, many times it is like water. If you let it go, it will find it's own level. For me that level was feminine. It seems the more I tried to find a male companion, the easier it was to find a female one. Much more than when I was completely in the world cross dressing as a man. Maybe the women I was around then could sense I was a mess. 

Photo from Unsplash

Since I was a mess, I had very few male "friends." I spent my life guarding myself from the world so most people just were passing thru. 

I think too, we transgender people have more of a chance to have more people just pass thru our lives. Primarily because early on we are so guarded and later because we start all over attempting to build new lives. Many times the process dictates a whole new set of people just passing thru.

Another problem is when transgender women or men become successful in entering society many of them leave the transgender or LGBTQ group they were part of.  So there goes another group of acquaintances. 

It's difficult for me to even compare if I had had the opportunity to live a mainstream life if I would have had more or less of the same people just passing thru. Maybe it isn't as important as it was to me when I thought of it when I couldn't sleep last night. I just can't help but wonder what happened to certain people who just passed me by so quickly as my life sped by.