The Second Supportive Circle

Recently I wrote a post or two concerning the individuals who helped me cross the gender frontier to live a life as a full time transgender woman. As much as I learned and appreciated their input, there was another group of cis women who accepted me plus helped me move even further into the feminine world. 

From the Jessie Hart Archives:
Min on left with myself and Kathy

More precisely, these women helped me to build upon my initial gender change results and took me to levels I never thought I could achieve so fast. Once I discovered the basics of communication, there were women such as Min and Kathy who started to invite me to girls nights out for special events such as birthday parties. Through it all, I was scared or terrified I would make a fool of myself but on the other hand, I wanted to desperately learn what all went on behind the feminine curtain. After all, I had waited my entire life to arrive at a point where I could be accepted as one of the girls on their special evening.  What I discovered was there was not much of a secret to be told. The women I were around were predictably more family orientated than men and of course didn't operate with the same amount of bravado. Looking back also, one of my biggest challenges also was to dress to blend with the women I was going with. 

Along with Min and Kathy, there were several more women who accepted me and helped me transition more than they ever knew. The Kim's, Jen's and Debra's (to name a few) made me feel at home in their worlds. During this period of my new life, I compared my gender learning curve to building a new house. Once I had established a firm foundation, I could enable my strong inner feminine self to do the rest. All of a sudden just getting out on Halloween parties became a thing of the past although I still went to them. 

Then there was the spiritual side to my existence. When I moved in with Liz, I followed her Wiccan path. In Debra's circle I was accepted by people such as Trish and Ed, who in turn introduced me to their friends and acquaintances. Very few people were even stand offish to me as I continued to build a circle of people who had never known my old male side at all. 

The second supportive circle even extended to the Pride celebration in Cincinnati where I helped yearly before Covid with a booth of information. Today as I look back I can't say enough good concerning all the people who accepted me as my new authentic self. Of course they knew I was transgender but none of that mattered. I was so fortunate.

The Long Dark Transgender Tunnel

Image Courtesy Snowcat
on Unsplash

 Recently I was thinking of how I actually transitioned twice in my gender life. For over fifty years I considered myself a cross dresser. In fact, for the longest time I considered dressing as a woman to be a harmless hobby. Obviously the longer I went along, the more I discovered it was anything but a hobby and far from harmless. All the time I spent agonizing over my gender issues proved to be very self destructive. In other words, I spent countless hours wondering what gender I was becoming and what I would do the next time I had a chance to dress in my secret feminine attire and admire myself. This stage of my life essentially lasted from when I was ten-ish until I was sixty and finally decided to begin my second serious gender transition. Although I can safely say I knew I was experiencing gender issues way before the age of ten. 

Of course I am aware no one can reclaim time but I do try to learn from all of my positive and negative experiences. Initially, I was able to install lights in my transgender tunnel which would allow me to learn the basics of makeup and how to dress myself. I stumbled when I went through my girlish high school years when I was in my thirties. Those were the days I committed the usual cross dresser sins such as trying to dress too sexy which turned out to be a trashy attempt to disguise my testosterone poisoned male body in clothes designed for an attractive teen girl. Needless to say, those were difficult days for me in my tunnel when the light at the end always seemed to be the train.

Fifty years is a long time and still I persisted and more importantly learned what I needed to do to better prepare my feminine self to go public. I can compare the process to enabling my strong inner female to take control of the process. Approximately it was this time I went into what I called my business professional period of my life. An example was when I would dress up as my best impression of an executive woman and shop all of the upscale malls back in the day when many of them flourished and so did I. Rarely did I experience any issues as I shopped. One of my favorite outfits I acquired was a pale, pastel green suit with a short skirt which I paired with pastel green opaque panty hose and kitten heels. I topped it all with my shoulder length blond wig and was ready to explore the world as a woman. What a relief it was when my feminine life was starting to come together. But the biggest problem became, now what? I knew the light at the end of the tunnel wasn't the train but something different. However, the closer I became to the light at the end of the tunnel, I knew I felt too natural to ever return to my unwanted male existence. He was fading away.

As I said, I ended up following the light in my transgender tunnel and decided to transition for a second time. This time I decided to never look back and begin hormone replacement therapy. From that point forward I was going to not only leave my long tunnel behind but I was going to allow my inner feminine self to find her way in the world. A possibility I am sure she never thought was going to happen. Once I did relinquish control, my feminine self made certain I knew it was her providing the light in my transgender tunnel. The light was very dim in the beginning but became brighter the farther I went.

The big question I have now is why was I so stubborn in hanging on to what was left of my male ways.  Even though all of my male life wasn't miserable, I think after my daughter was born I could have left the remainder of him in the past. I could have said then I was a cross dresser for twenty years instead of fifty. 

For any number of reasons none of it happened and I continued down my long dark transgender tunnel much longer than I should have.    

It Takes a Village

Virginia Prince in 
the 1940's

 I am sure over the years you have heard the term "It takes a village" to describe the best way to raise a child. I think the phrase is especially true when it comes to negotiating a gender transition. You regular readers know how often I mention the lack of transgender mentors we had as we each tried our best to cross the binary gender divide. As with most of you in the same senior age category I am in, mutual contacts were very difficult to come by. 

Fortunately later in life, my contact group expanded and I was able to take advantage of my new peer group. It all started with me when I discovered "Virginia Prince" and her "Transvestia" magazine. As I remember, it was published every two months and I couldn't wait to receive my new edition. Of primary importance to me were the announcements of regional transvestite "mixers". One of which was within driving distance to me where I lived in Ohio. Naturally, I couldn't wait to attend one of the mixers if I could get the trip approved by my wife. Finally she went along with the idea and she even helped me to try to pick out an outfit to wear. 

Regardless of our disagreements on what I thought I should wear versus her ideas, I went and I learned. Most likely the biggest lesson I learned was the different layers and types of the other attendees I met. Every layer from the so called beautiful mean girls to the overtly masculine cross dressers and me in between. I just didn't feel comfortable in either group. 

It wasn't until much later in life I finally discovered why. When the transgender term was introduced, I knew then I discovered an idea I could identify with. I felt that surgery wasn't the driving force in my quest to live a feminine existence but the mere fact of being able to live as my authentic self was. And the authentic self proved to be my inner woman. 

During her path to the surface, she received quite a bit of help. It took the village I mentioned to enable her to finally break free. I don't mention enough the group of cis women who embraced me when I came out of my gender closet. Then, after the first group, there was a second circle (as I like to call them) who helped me solidify my new life and move on. I will mention them more in another blog post. 

In the meantime, even though it took me years to realize it, a village was welcome and needed for me to find my way to a life I really wanted to lead. As a full time transgender woman.