Come On In!

Image from A Zuhri

 I mentioned this comment briefly in yesterday's post. Recently, in my newest Veteran's Administration LGBTQA+ group session. The moderator brought up a new concept, instead of coming out, in reality we transgender folk are inviting others in.

This is a fairly radical idea when you take into consideration all the anti-transgender legislation which has been unleashed upon us by a certain political party not called the Democrats. Even still. the entire idea has a positive ring to it. Imagine having the comfort level (and/or confidence) to invite friends and family in to share your deepest darkest secret. The inner secret you have carried around your entire life. I know when I came out to others for the first time, I was in some sort of a gender free fall. In essence I had been stripped of all my old male reactions to any adversity. I needed to learned quickly the different gender path I would need to take to survive.

Truth be known, cis-women have known the alternate path for years. Often, in their own way, the women said to others come on in and then they needed to sort out the fall out from there. It doesn't really matter because in everyone's life, we have to sadly face it's ups and downs. Relationships of course are included. My coming out example was very unpleasant in it's own way. It happened way back when I talked my first fiancé into dressing me head to toe as a woman. Then proceeded to still do it weeks and months later. She eventually held it against me when Uncle Sam and the military draft came a knocking when I graduated from college. She fully expected me to try to escape serving by telling the world I was gay. Which was wrong. I knew I was learning how much I didn't want to be a man but I wasn't sure I wanted to change my sexuality.

The entire series of events turned out to be an extremely beneficial  part of my life. My fiancé and I broke up and I moved on to serving three years in the Army. Ironically, the first people who I ever invited into my gender world occurred after a Halloween party I went to when I was serving in Germany. The woman who eventually ended up being my first wife and mother of my daughter essentially met me there at the party. So she was one of the few I let in. Ultimately, one of the biggest success stories of my life.

Even though I thought I was fighting the best I could letting anybody in, in truth I was pressuring myself to come out. All the Halloween parties I went too in my feminine "costume" just served notice how badly I wanted to let others in. During the parties, I  secretly rejoiced when anyone else told me how convincing I was. Later on, I pushed the gender envelope even farther by leaving the house during the day fully cross dressed as a woman. Putting everything I knew in life into jeopardy. Deep down I wanted to be caught.

Finally the whole intricate process came tumbling down. Call it what you want coming out, or letting in. It had to happen before the gender ripping and tearing nearly killed me. 

  

Serendipity

 First of all, maybe a little definition to the serendipity word would help this post. 

From an on line dictionary I read from, it defined the word as "The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way. " Today I was able to put my gender dysphoria aside and experience gender serendipity. The chance occasion came when I went with my wife Liz to her Doctor's appointment. For the occasion I chose one of my newer summer lightweight tank tops. It is tie died with a big peace sign and the slogan , Every little thing gonna be alright. For once we took a picture. Completing the casual outfit was a pair of jeans and my new tennis shoes. Nothing too fancy for the Doc's and the heat. 

The fun part came when when went into the office and a man held the door open for us. He was wearing a nice The Ohio State University polo shirt so Liz said "Go Buckeyes!" He responded with "O.H" and I said "I.O." From there on we were off to a good morning.

The best part to me was being totally ignored by all the waiting people in the office. It didn't matter, I was essentially invisible. Not transgender for a change. Just me and it felt good. Kids and all ignored me. It felt so good to put my gender dysphoria behind me and just live my life. 

While I am on the subject of current events, in yesterday's Veterans Administration  LGBTQA+ group meeting, I learned a relevant idea which in the future I will be writing about more. In essence, the subject came up of how and who we came out to first. The moderator pointed out maybe we should think of the process different. To the point of not coming out, it's who we are letting in. Or more serendipity with one's self.

Also coming up this weekend, is the transgender-transvestite or cross dresser group I am part of' annual summer picnic. Fortunately, the heat dome which is torturing most of the country is going to back off for the day and we will have high's in the mid 80's. At the least, if the affair is as well attended as it was last year, we will be able to see many old acquaintances we haven't seen in a while. 

I need to enjoy this brief respite from my mirror induced gender dysphoria. One never knows when it will flair up again. It shouldn't for the picnic since most of the attendees have known me for awhile and we can enjoy the company.   

I don't ever say it enough but thanks to all of you who read my blog posts regularly. You are the ones who make the process so worthwhile!

Gender Dysphoria

 

/Image from UnSplash

The confusion suffered when a person has a problem deciding which gender they are is often a cruel lifetime curse.

After all these years of living a reasonably successful life as a fulltime transgender woman, when I look in the mirror in the morning and really anytime, I still see a man looking back at me on occasion. Surely my hormone replacement therapy (or whatever it is called today) has aided in my transition but the problem just won't seem to go away.

It is about this time, when I am becoming discouraged concerning my appearance, I look at the reality of the situation. Which is, at the age of seventy three, there will be little more than I can do to insure the world sees me in a more feminine way. All those years of testosterone took it's toll. I do know also I could consider facial femininization surgery but the cost and pain just wouldn't be worth it. So, by my own choice I am stuck with what I see in the mirror.

Not too long ago I was watching one of my guilty pleasure reality talk shows when the host had on a beautiful transgender woman. Along the way during the interview she told the world she was thinking of having facial surgery which amazed the host and I. When he asked why, she said she still saw her old male self when she looked in the mirror. Sad but true.

It is my understanding too that growing up transgender does not automatically guarantee you will have suffered from any gender dysphoria at all. I found out the hard way years ago when I went to one of my transgender-transvestite support group meetings. I brought up my gender dysphoria issues and was quickly told by the moderator she had never suffered from the problem at all. She later went on to completing a gender realignment surgery so I have often wondered one of two things. The first, did she change her mind or two, did she even know what the term meant. Regardless, I learned my lesson and did not bring it up again. 

Regardless, I needed to find away to deal with my own gender dysphoria. After years of turmoil. I finally decided I didn't look as bad as a transgender woman or as good as the mirror sometimes told me I did. I just tried my best, as any cis woman does (on occasion) to look her best when she goes out into the public's eye. Presenting privilege's are so difficult to come by for any transgender person who is attempting to cross the gender border. Think of it this way, there are many cis-women who struggle to have any presenting privilege at all and supposedly the women had the benefit of growing up female. 

I am sure I will take my own gender dysphoria with me to my grave. My biggest paranoia is the dysphoria will not helped along by any assisted care facility I may find myself in.