Was the Big Easy, Easy?

Image from Jade Photography 
on UnSplash

Several years ago, my wife Liz and I made the journey on a tour bus from Cincinnati to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. New Orleans is also known as the "Big Easy". 

As it turned out, the trip turned out to be anything but easy. It was a very challenging learning experience. Previously, Liz and I had gone on other bus tours with the same company which were shorter and turned out to be pleasant. The only main challenge which occurred was not being allowed to use the in bus restroom except in times of dire emergency.  Very quickly I learned the "pleasures" of standing in line with a group of other women waiting to use the bathroom. Often at a cramped state supplied roadside rest. After the first couple of times with the same women, I seemingly was accepted and allowed to do my very basic business without incident. I was relieved in more ways than the obvious.

The trip to New Orleans proved to be much longer with many more "rest stops". Again I didn't have many problems until the bus made it to the deep south and we stopped on the Mississippi/Alabama state line. As we joined the line waiting to go in, my nervousness increased. My feelings proved to be unfounded until I had to come face to face with two women after I paused to wash my hands. They took one look and me and glared and I thought here it goes. In response I smiled, dried my hands and vacated the rest room as quickly as I could. I was so scared I kept thinking a small town deep south redneck cop would be pulling the bus over looking for me. Fortunately, nothing happened and the bus then took us to the outskirts of New Orleans itself before it needed to stop for fuel. During the refueling stop again I needed to take care of business and hurriedly did it. Liz, however was behind me and took longer to get a stall, so I needed to wait alone for her. While I was waiting, I tried to waste time by looking at the truck stop tourist items like I was really going to purchase an alligator skull. My paranoia told me to keep moving as I waited for Liz and the Bus to get ready to go again. By having some sort of a purpose, I hoped to ward off any sort of unwanted advances by anyone. Which never came.

Once we arrived in the "Big Easy" the bus stopped at the big seafood restaurant with wonderful food. As I finished my meal, I excused myself and went to the restroom. While I was in there, another woman from the bus saw me and said something to the fact that I used "their" bathroom too. Since she was elderly and not overly negative, I chalked up the entire experience to education...for her. From the restaurant it was on to our fantastic hotel and the blur of an actual Mardi Gras experience,  I say blur because it is how I remember it. As a casual visitor I think being at Mardi Gras was a wonderful one time happening but a less crowded trip to New Orleans would be more enjoyable as I have been there twice now. Once as my male self.

Our trip to the actual event involved quite a bit of walking and pushing our ways through huge crowds, Plus the rest room theme raised it's potentially ugly head again as any restroom was difficult to find. We had to stop and eat off the main route to basically find a restroom to use. Before we knew it, the entire Mardi Gras experience was taken off the bucket list and we started our journey home. By this time my confidence was good and I had no more experiences to remember.   

How New Was It?

Photo from Civil War Cemetery. The
Jessie Hart Collection

 During my transgender journey, I considered each hill I climbed and every blind curve I conquered as being a new part of my life.

Looking back at it now, I wonder how new it really was. Through it all, as I learned from all the ups and downs of transitioning I was just being me. The sad part was how long it took me to arrive at the point of my life when I could put my old male self behind me and move on. It was at once so exciting yet terrifying to put all my male privileges away and explore what a feminine life had to offer.

The more I explored the world, the more I learned much of it wasn't new at all. If you are a believer in reincarnation somehow I felt I had been there before. In other words, my transition to a transgender woman felt so natural. I felt as if I should have always been living this way.  Even though I felt more and more natural, my old unwanted male self still stubbornly hung on thinking he could make a come back and reclaim my life. I even tried to live between the two main binary genders until the stress became to much to bear and I needed to make a decision. Finally I made the right decision to begin hormone replacement therapy and try to adopt a fulltime life as a transgender woman, without any of the major surgeries some trans women undergo. I just didn't feel the need to subject my body to any major gender surgeries seeing as how I was reaching my mid sixties by that time in my life. I considered myself fortunate in that my body was in good enough condition to accept the rigors of the changes I went through. 

Since my main premise through the years was gender was between the ears and sex was between the legs, I opted for more work between the ears. The final straw which broke the camels' back in my transition was when I met my wife Liz going on twelve years ago. Before I met her, I thought the chances of having anyone accept the new me would be nearly impossible. I couldn't believe it when  one day, Liz told me why didn't I just go all the way in my MtF gender transition because she didn't see any male in me at all. At that point I knew somehow I could make it another relationship with another person. Let alone another woman. The concept was very new because my previous two wives accepted the fact I was a transvestite but never adjusted to any of the concept I could be transgender. The unexpected turned into reality. 

From then on, the adjustment was immense as Liz and I needed to learn to live together as I was adjusting to living in a totally new gender. Ironically the easiest part probably was the gender adjustment I needed to make. When my feminine self was finally freed up to live out of the closet, she took to it completely and without reservations. She proved I should have been listening to her all along.  As far as my male self went, he quickly faded into the background and was rarely missed except for situations when I found myself in highly testosterone laden places such as auto shops. In those places, I learned quickly what "man-splaining" was really all about. 

It turned out, completing my gender transition wasn't new at all. I had been working my whole life to do it.

The Most Expensive Holiday

 I wish I wrote this but I didn't:

I will just also add how many transgender veterans took their deep dark gender secret to the grave with them. 

As you enjoy your cookout, just take a second to remember all who made the ultimate sacrifice to insure the fragile freedoms we enjoy.