The Good, the Bad and...

 Actually is there is no ugly in regards to this post.

Last night we finally were able to venture out for my birthday dinner. We decided on a venue I have been wanting to visit for quite awhile now. Liz is a little more reticent to go to new places so I had to throw the birthday card (I won't say rump card) to get her to go. 

The Turf Club Cincinnati

Once we arrived, in our casual clothes and all, we felt right at home with a crowd basically dressed in jeans and sweatshirts. Plus, seeing as how the Turf Club (where we were) had a brief visit from the network halftime network football crew who was doing the Bengals game, quite a few of the patrons were showing off their best football attire. Even though I am still a huge fan, I have not been able to afford any of the current up to date "fashion" so I just went with a simple sweater, jeans and knee high boots. 

I will finish my plug for the venue by saying it has been visited by Guy of "Diners, Drive ins and Dives" Food Network fame and I had the same half pound burger which he did. Well, not the same one but made the same. 

A Turf Club Burger

Probably, most importantly, no one seemed to notice the tallish transgender woman in the crowded restaurant. It was the second time this week I experienced gender euphoria. The first was when I was instructed on which frames were for the women earlier this week when I went for my new glasses. This was after I spent too much time worrying about if the eye glass receptionist would have any gender related questions for me. 

Finally, today was my therapy day. It turned out nearly the entire session was dedicated to  revisiting all my old Veterans Administration mental health paperwork in the system. So, for the second time this month I was asked how I identified by the VA. Again I dutifully replied, I am a transgender lesbian and I answer to the she and hers pronouns. 

On the plus side I found I was going to receive a new I-pad to enable me to better be served virtually by the VA. Of course it can only be used for veterans related needs. 

Actually I fibbed earlier. Liz and I are attending a close friend's funeral who committed suicide. I have only been to one funeral since I gender transitioned, so I have picked out my best black outfit for such a sad event. That's the ugly of a terrific week.    

The Most Important Appointment

Today was my six month virtual visit with my endocrinologist. Quite possibly my most important appointment I have with all the various experts who attempt to keep me on the rails of life. Going a bit further, my endo prescribes and monitors my hormone replacement therapy medications. Without her support I would struggle to be outwardly the feminine person I am today.

Halloween Picture from
Columbus, Ohio Black Party
Courtesy Jessie Hart

HRT is always difficult to write about for several reasons. The first and main reason is that too many  having rogue unmonitored hormones can be extremely detrimental to your health. Estrogen can only take you so far in your outward feminine development before the tables turn. Which I have seen years ago in a couple transgender women at Trans Ohio meetings. Both of them were in ill health and blamed their problems on too much HRT.

On the other hand, under supervision, my years on hormone replacement therapy have for the most part produced magical results. I grew breasts, hair and hips while I went through the second major puberty in my life. But, it took me years to do it, often at minimal levels of added estradiol to my system. Most likely what aided in my progress was the fact I was older when I started around the age of sixty. So my natural testosterone levels were decreasing anyway. While I will always regret waiting so long to begin HRT, at least I could be confident I did the process the right way under medical supervision. To be sure, testosterone poisoning was something I still fight with but the memories of living in a toxic male world will always be with me too. 

Perhaps one of the biggest changes I didn't see coming were the internal ones which no one externally sees. I had heard the stories of emotional changes which occur with HRT but I can't say I was prepared for them when they came and became reality. Finally being able to unleash the emotions of my feminine inner soul was akin to lifting heavy weights from my shoulders. All of a sudden, for the first time in my life, I didn't have to be ashamed to cry. The whole experience was very enlightening. Once of the examples was when my body thermostat changed dramatically. Quickly I went from a person who was never cold to a person who always was. A shock when I found out all those years I thought women were faking it when they said they were cold. 

All of these reasons, plus several more I didn't mention all combine for me to consider my Endocrinologist appointment my most important visit. She checks all my extensive blood work to see if anything appears out of range, refills my Estradiol patches and Spiro and sends me on my way. With a promise to do it all again in six months. I take nothing for granted at my age and sadly am prepared to give it all up if my life depended on it. Which for many transgender women it does. After all gender is in your head. Not between your legs. 

I'm sure though by the time my time has run out, hormone replacement therapy will have done it's part to take years off my life. I will just have to decide if it was all worth it to enable me more completely to live an authentic life I  waited so long to live.  

Transgender Bravery versus Conviction

 Yesterday I virtually attended my monthly Veterans Administration LGBTQ support group meeting. Normally the meetings are fairly routine and I don't say much, plus the last get together featured an interesting mental exercise which everyone needed to be a part of if possible. The exercise started with a circle and then you had to add all the various important facets of your life. Examples would be privilege, family etc. 

After a few people stepped forward with their ideas, it became evident how important being a veteran was to all of us, as well as being transgender. Various privilege's came in a close third. Since we all happened to be white, almost everyone mentioned it. Mainly in a sense of how much privilege we lost when we gender transitioned into feminine lives as transgender women. 

Of course I write often and long concerning my own losses of male privileges when I transitioned. For the most part I felt them quickly and firmly. All of the sudden I had lost a significant portion of my IQ and were ignored when I was talking to men. I brought up the experience to the group when I needed to have my car towed and tried my best to explain to the tow driver and a sheriff where I needed to go. Once they heard the address they didn't need any other information from me. Since I was a blond that day, I finally just sat back and asked dumb blond questions about how the tow truck worked. Then I was "man-planed"  how it did. The best examples for me came when I was talking to men about sports which of course I knew quite a bit about. I found I was never taken seriously. Due to time constraints I was never really able to talk much concerning the real issue of losing control of your own safety when you transition to a transgender woman.

By far the best experience was shared by a transgender  man in the group who is completely presentable as a man and works as a nurse. He was saying he works with men from other countries who refuse to take any guidance from women and he has to go in and mediate between the two genders.

Other than that, perhaps the biggest topic from the group came when discussion started about being veterans and what it meant to us all, For me being a veteran was something I never wanted to do but was proud of myself for serving my time in an honorable fashion. Or at least I tried! :). Several others in the group managed to draw lines between being veterans and having the courage to pursue their lives as transgender women and men, 

Over the years occasionally I will be called "brave" when I describe a few of my coming out of my gender closet experiences. I prefer brave be saved for those who deserve it such as first responders. On the other hand my convictions led me to where I am today. As one of the participants said yesterday, as soon as she stepped foot into basic training, she had to stick with her convictions concerning who she really was. Plus I knew also, I just couldn't live a gender lie as a man. Somehow, someway I would have to find a way to live fulltime as a transgender woman.

There is no contest in my book in comparing transgender conviction to any sort of bravery. I rather leave the bravery to the ones who deserve it. Conviction is different. We all need it to survive in an often hostile world.