Climbing the Transgender Mountain

 

Photo from the 
Jessie Hart Collection

As time has gone by, I have began to think of my transgender journey as being some sort of a mountain climb.

Problems occurred along the way as I became greedy. I found the more I accomplished along my path, the more I wanted.  Many times I was guilty of trying to push the envelope too far and suffered negative responses from the public when I did. Those were the days of not knowing who I was cross dressing for and not having the skill to attempt to blend in with my feminine appearance. I was trying to dress sexy for the men in the world and failing miserably.  Climbing the mountain in those days was very painful and slow. However, destiny was playing a part in my climb because mixed in with the failures were just enough successes to encourage me to keep moving towards my impossible dream of living a life fulltime as a trans woman. I equate it to reaching a certain summit then looking around and deciding you can never go back.

Those were the days when I finally decided I was so much more than a casual cross dresser and when I was successful in my public presentation as a woman, I felt so natural. The best example I can remember is the night I went out on my own to get a drink at an upscale pub/tavern as a woman...not as someone pretending to be one. A huge difference to me at the time. The whole evening worked out so well for me, somehow I just knew I could never go back to my male lifestyle as I knew it at the time. The entire process was terrifying and exciting at the same time. After all the years of trying, I had reached a lower peak of my climb. A place where I could see clearly where I had come from and could see vaguely where I might have the chance to go. If I continued to climb upward.

Even though I am extremely fearful of heights I did continue my upward climb. Fighting me along the way was my increasing fear of totally giving up the male life I so desperately fought to keep over the years. I was just getting to the "Sir" stage of my life when privileges came from just surviving as long as I did as a white male. Even so, my feminine soul was calling me to move ever upward to my dream. 

As I often mention, my second wife of twenty five years was dead set against living with another woman. Especially if the other woman was me. When she unexpectedly passed away at the age of fifty, the  door was open for me to climb another peak in my gender transition and begin hormone replacement therapy or HRT. At that point, I couldn't or wouldn't turn back as miraculous changes began to go through my male body. In no time at all, I made the jump from macho male to androgynous person to looking feminine with softer skin, breasts and hair. I can equate the entire process to climbing my own personal Mt. Everest. 

Once I did scale my tallest gender mountain, I found the view to be breathtaking and at that point I was happy I made the climb. More importantly, I never wanted to go back.   

 

Pretending Who you Intend to Be

Image from Sigrid Wu
on UnSplash

 Growing up in my early cross dressing years I often thought I was just pretending to be a girl. As the years passed by of course, I discovered I was doing much more than pretending. 

My first indication of having a more serious attraction to dressing in feminine clothes was when after I ended my girlish relationship with the mirror, I couldn't wait to get back. The "buzz" I felt from experiencing looking at my cross dressed reflection just didn't last more than a couple days. Plus the desire to get out of the house and my little closet was strong. Looking back now, it is easy to see I was more a transgender woman than a cross dresser. By that time, my pretending stopped and I needed to find different forms of expression. Sadly, the other forms were nearly impossible to come by.

The closest I came were the couple of times when I made an attempt to come out to close friends. For the most part both times were disasters and I scurried back into my closet determined to try to live a male life. Only one was successful when another close friend of mine seemed to share the same fondness for dressing in feminine clothes which was even supported by his Mother. It was a new and wonderful experience to think I wasn't all alone in the world pretending to be a girl. However, just when we were having fun dressing up, he and his family moved several states away and we lost contact with each other. It was another "would have, should have" moments in my life when I think back on what have could have been had he not had to move.

From then on, my gender closet became dark and lonely again. Especially when I began to have a more complete understanding of what was going on with my gender dysphoria. The more I learned, the more it seemed I was not pretending at all to be feminine. Deep down inside I was and the entire process was causing me deep turmoil. It wasn't until I was able to read more and understand what a transgender woman was did I realize the terminology fit me and I intended to discover more. During this time of my life, I was able to meet transgender and/or transsexual role models in person and judge if I was one of them.  Very quickly I discovered I was similar and I began to consider exactly what it meant. First of all, if I was indeed transgender, I needed to figure out if I indeed could live a new life. Pretending was all over and every move seemed to be more serious.

Selling out my male self essentially meant I was only going to get pennies on the dollar for my male privileges' I had worked so hard to earn. Not to mention what was I going to do about my relationship with my wife as well as a fairly successful job. Transitioning back in those days was unheard of for the most part. Plus, moving away and starting all over again was the prescribed path to take when you were completing a gender transition.  Regardless of all of those factors, I knew what I needed to do and it was to live my dream of being a full time transgender woman.    

Once I completely quit pretending I still wanted to be a male, life became easier and worth living. I just had it all backwards for years. 

Gender Patterns

Photo from the
Jessie Hart Archives

It is no secret both binary genders have patterns, ingrained in us from childhood. From very early in life, we are forced into either square or round holes. Depending upon our perceived exterior gender we are pronounced a boy or a girl and are expected to adjust and live as such.

The problem becomes when a child does not fit into one of the two prescribed holes. What happens then? Sadly in the vast majority of cases, the child is forced into either psychiatric care or worse yet, ignored. At that point most of us novice transgender youth are doomed to follow our own path to acceptance. Plus, as most of us know who have been in therapy, finding a good therapist is often difficult to do. 

The entire process usually dooms the transgender individual to going it alone in life and dealing with their gender issues. Another problem which soon makes itself known is learning the gender pattern you want to become a part of. In our case as trans women, we are excluded from the peer process and parental guidance young girls have when they are growing up. There is no one to tell you your makeup looks clownish or your skirt is too short when you are trying to go out in public. Our trial and error in the public's eye is often brutal and serves to drive us back into our dark lonely gender closets before we can reach a point of acceptance. Once we learn how to blend and exist in public, there is no feeling like it.

What happens next, at least in my case, was once I was able to dress and blend in with society, I had to then learn the finer points of gender patterns. Two of the more surprising patterns to me involved the facts that cis-women were not always the gentler gender. I learned the hard way to not turn my back on all women too soon. It took awhile but the claw marks on my back finally started to heal. I learned the hard way how to deal head on with the passive aggressive stance of some women. They wouldn't question to my face about why I was in their world but sure would attack me behind my back. The other gender pattern I was a little surprised about was the fallacy that all cis women were the cleaner gender. Primarily in the bathroom. The whole bathroom issue wasn't a total surprise because of my experience as a restaurant/bar manager.  Even still, I needed to learn the hard way to look closely before I sat down to use the toilet in a women's restroom. And, never put your purse on the floor. If you get my meaning.

From my many responses I receive to the blog, I am able to read many different comments concerning reactions to gender patterns. The comments range from very sad to amazingly euphoric. Often the euphoric ones mention the "blooming" of their feminine self. Often the acceptance of other women helped in the process. 

To all of you searching to leave your dark closets, remember to learn all the gender patterns you can to put your best foot forward and maybe, just maybe you will see the light of day as your feminine self.