Lets Get Comfortable?

 

Photo credit Jessie Hart

Yesterday was mammogram day. The price I pay for being on hormone replacement therapy. The actual treatment is very minimally painful. Getting there was the problem. I don't walk long distances well and had to park quite away from the hospital where my appointment was scheduled. Since I had been there before I knew exactly what to expect and knew there was a big ledge I could sit down on and rest before I actually went into the hospital to register. Once I made it there I figured I had it made. 

Registration was a little more complex than I bargained for as the hospital had to figure out how my Veterans Administration coverage worked into my procedure. Once that was figured out it was clear sailing to the location of the actual mammogram.

If you have never been, they ask you to strip to the waist and give you one of those stylish hospital gowns to put on. Open in front of course. From there they take you to the room where the big mammogram machine is located. I always find it humorous they are in such a hurry. Once I got undressed I was hurried  into a hallway which luckily was deserted. 

The procedure itself as I wrote is basically just a pinching of the breasts so somehow they can get a good X-ray. The unpleasantness to me came when I had to stand that long and contort my body to get a good "picture" Finally two nurses had to come in and assist in the procedure. To add insult to injury, I had to totally take off my hospital gown. Naturally I was more embarrassed than anyone else because I am sure they had seen it all before. 

Finally the procedure was over. They had gotten two X-rays on each breast and I was set free to put my clothes back on and leave. This was actually was my fifth mammogram, so I know what to expect. I am directed to have one every year because my maternal grandmother passed away from breast cancer way back in the 1950's. So I am always extremely concerned about the results of the mammogram tests. 

So far, I haven't yet received any news about the latest tests. As directed I do self examinations and have felt no lumps so I hope everything is all right. 

Now my week continues tomorrow with my latest virtual appointment with my therapist. Among other things I can explain how stressful a week it has been since also, my credit card was hacked and blocked before any significant damage was done. I had to go to my bank branch yesterday to get it settled and had to sit through a sales pitch for another credit card which I was ultimately turned down for because of my credit. Which I knew was going to happen since I am on Social Security and don't make much money. 

On the positive side, I needed the extra exercise and feel much better today because of it. I even went out early this morning to the huge grocery store we have nearby and found a few necessities we needed for the refrigerator. Plus, the rumor has it I stopped at Connie's favorite coffee chain for a couple of nitro/coffees for Liz and I.   It felt good to do it!     

An Inverted 71

Photo Courtesy Connie Malone

Connie recently wrote in and commented on my post "Comfortable in your Own Skin. As always she put her own unique twist to the post and I thought I would share it with all of you:

"  My big regret is that, by the time I found myself to be comfortable in my own gender skin, the skin had already begun to wrinkle and sag. 😒

I think that quite a few trans women go through a period of time dressing in a way that may be appealing to their own masculine desires of the kind of woman they think they want. I know that this idea borders on the myth of autogynephilia, but I still believe it to be true. I know that I made that mistake for a while, however, I never let it out of the closet.

Even when I was a teenager (pre-teen, really), I just wanted to be a woman. As difficult as it may be for a girl to make that transition, it eventually dawned on me that transitioning from a pubescent boy to a woman was most likely impossible (especially back in the 60's). That's why I went into a deep suppression of my feminine self just before I turned 17. That lasted for another 17 years of my life, only to find myself spending another 17 years practicing my femininity through frequent closeted cross dressing. I didn't really need the practice, though, as I pretty much picked up right where I had left off.

Now that I'm 71 (an inverted 17?), I may have wrinkles in my skin, but I've pretty much ironed out the wrinkles of transition." 

Thank you for the informative post, As many of you know, I am nearly the same age as Connie (72) and shared the same trials and tribulations  of growing up as a teenager in the pre internet "dark ages". Then going through what only could be described as nearly a half century of cross dressing before I finally felt secure enough to fully come out of my closet. Looking back, telling myself I was transgender was much more difficult than telling anyone else. It was easier to just put those non supporters in my rear view mirror than it was to do it to myself, mainly because I had been pushing my authentic feminine self into the background for all of those years. It was so enlightening when I finally discovered I had not been cross dressing all those years as a woman when in reality I had been cross dressing as a man.

For another month or so, if I invert my age, I would be a spry 27. I shouldn't say it but I am...If I only knew then what I know now. 

Always on Stage

 

Photo Courtesy Jessie Hart

This morning I had the radical idea I would go out to the curb and bring in the two large trash cans we have. Of course I didn't put much effort into the process. Didn't shave and wore no makeup. Who would I see of importance anyhow? I knew from experience the two neighbors I do know I almost never see them at the time I was out anyhow. As luck would have it, this morning the neighborhood was positively completely packed with strangers walking their dogs, just walking or heading to the school bus stop on the corner, Without any fanfare I timed my trip to the curb and brought the two cans back up to the house. 

As I came back into the house I wondered why it is I feel as if I am always on stage when I am out doing even menial tasks that very few cis women would give a second thought to. Unless they were on their way to work, I see very few neighborhood women bringing in their trash cans in heels and hose. In fact, I can;t tell you the last time I have seen a ultra well dressed woman in this neighborhood at all. Perhaps the closest comes to me when I do my version of dressing up to go ot with Liz to dinner. 

I suppose the whole "on a stage" aspect of life extends to all women if they like it or not and especially transgender women. We are under increased pressure to appear feminine while at the same time blend in with the other women around us. Plus as we begin our gender journeys, we are playing catch up to the cis women who had the benefit of mother and peer input on necessary items such as clothing and makeup. 

Many of us also who didn't have the benefit of an easier gender transition due to feminine looks. We had to suffer (or are suffering) from the ravages of testosterone poisoning. It made or makes for too many stares or even rude comments from uncaring, nosey civilians It's no wonder we transgender folks are always looking over our shoulders. 

Then there is the other side. My deceased wife used to tell me it was not all about me when the tables were turned and I thought I was being unfairly singled out as a novice transgender woman. Often she (my wife) would go on to call me the "Pretty, pretty princess" when it all happened and said all the uproar may have not had anything thing to do with me at all. My feminine ego which was still deeply intertwined with my male ego made the whole process so confusing. 

It became ingrained it was all about me. Until I could free my strong inner feminine self, it turned out I had to be selfish to do it. Once I was able to discover who my authentic self really was, then I could set out to love others. Suddenly my selfish side was gone and I could see the world in it's truer form...good or bad, 

Regardless, as an full time transgender woman, I am certainly not the "Pretty, pretty Princess" anymore following my decidedly unfeminine trips to male dominated areas such as junk yards. As with any woman, part of our existence in being on stage. One way or another.