Destruction

Image from Mika Baumeister
on UnSplash

At various stages of my life I survived being so very self destructive to everything around me. 

Of course being gender dysphoric as well as bi-polar didn't help. Before I was diagnosed and received medications it seemed all I did was go from being very depressed to being very mean and nasty. I am surprised my wife was able to stay around as I tried to tear down everything I attempted to build. Often I would change jobs at a frenetic pace just to see if I could. During the process I uprooted and moved my wife and I from our native Ohio, to New York City, then back again to West Virginia. She didn't like the moves but came along anyway.

It took me awhile but finally I came to the conclusion I was trying to out run my gender issues by all the moving we were doing. Since my inner feminine self didn't respect all of the work was male self was doing to be a success, she did her part to resist and tear all the work down. Very self destructive to say the least. 

One of the biggest pillars of my life which was left was my marriage to my second wife which I write about often since it lasted twenty five years. She knew I was a cross dresser or transvestite from the very beginning so in many ways dressing like a woman for me was a non starter with her. She didn't really care and/or put up with it. The deciding factor came when I began to feel the urge to see if I could actually live as a transgender woman. I can still hear her words echoing in my head, I never signed up to live with another woman. After tremendous gender focused battles and me essentially cheating on her by leaving the house behind her back, I finally gave in and tried to purge most all of my feminine belongings before she passed away. I view the whole experience now as a fight between two strong willed women, my wife and my female self.

After I began the MtF gender transition to living life as a transgender woman, I needed to go through a relearning process of sorts to not be so self destructive. Among other things, I needed to dress more conservatively to blend in to where I wanted to go and I needed to be much more wiser when I did it. I almost learned the hard way about being in the wrong place at the wrong time as a trans woman. My male safety privileges were stripped from me when I crossed the gender border and I needed to learn the new rules of being a woman...fast. 

As it turned out, my new feminine self was much less self destructive than my old male self. Once she had finally got her way, she wanted to keep it and build a much more pleasant life.

Planning Ahead

Image from Mohamed Nohassi
on UnSplash 

At some point in my transgender MtF transition I was forced to plan ahead.

The point I am referring to is when I came to the point I knew I was going to attempt to go "all the way". When I did, I needed to seriously consider first of all how I was going to be able to support myself. I worked at a job which was very male dominated and relied on serving the public, so I knew my company would resist my gender changes. Plus I couldn't even imagine how a kitchen crew would react to a transgender manager. 

I ended up taking the easy way out and was able to retire early on my Social Security benefits and augment them by selling the houseful of antiques and collectibles my wife and I had obtained over the years. Between the two, I managed to support myself as a novice transgender woman. Perhaps what I didn't plan so well for was the experience of actually living as a trans woman. Once I threw away or donated all of my male clothes, acquiring an everyday women's wardrobe proved challenging. I learned very quickly I couldn't be the "pretty pretty princess" I was for most of my transvestite or cross dressing years on a daily basis. I needed to fall in line with the women around me and dress for comfort when they went about their normal life's. Blending became my word of the day when I faced the reality of dressing feminine on a daily basis.

Once I conquered dressing the part, I then needed to adjust to going to places I may  have felt uncomfortable in as a transgender woman. Examples included places such as auto parts stores all the way to junk yards when Liz and I searched for a hard to find part for our old car. Through it all, I tried to keep my head up and deal with situations (which for the most part) never came up. What I didn't realize was  dealing with other women on a daily basis would prove to be the most challenging experience for me. All of a sudden, I was forced into deeper communication other than I love your ear-rings. Specifically from women who wanted to pry into who they were communicating with. Some were gentle and calculating while others were more blunt and to the point. Similar to how a man would attack. The most important point was I learned quickly how to  protect myself when I began to be out on a daily basis as a transgender woman.

I learned all the planning in the world all of a sudden didn't do me any good. I was making good on a lifetime gender dream and there was no turning back. I just can't say enough how big the changes were when I finally had the courage to go full time. I will never forget the experience and how fulfilling it was for me. 

Civil War

Image from Valentin Salja
on UnSplash

When I see a gender bigot of any sort  who says we transgender women or men had a choice of our gender lifestyles. I just shake my head in disbelief. Having any sort of a choice in my gender battles has always been the furthest  thing in my mind.

In my case, the best way I can describe the torment of the transgender dysphoria I went through was similar to fighting an individual civil war. My feminine side fought a vicious war to free herself from the male self who was fighting equally as hard to remain in control. Even though deep down he knew the existence was built on a false premise. From a very early age, I knew I deeply admired the girls and dreamed of how it would be to have the chance to be the cheerleader instead of the defensive end on the football team. A prime example among others including not have to wear the same old boring clothes. I so envied the girls with their pretty dresses and shoes.

None of my envy did me any good and my civil war grew more intense the more I did to relieve the problem. Even though I was able to increase my meager wardrobe of feminine clothes, the more I wanted. Especially when I was able to buy my own makeup and began to experiment ever more seriously when I viewed my new image in the mirror. Even though most of my attempts were predictably clownish, I slowly became more skilled and every now and then even was able to catch a glimpse of my true inner female in the mirror. Sadly, when I did, I usually wanted more which did nothing to stop my civil war.    

Through it all, my male self behaved predictably. He held on, refusing to give up any of his battlefield. He made the process much more difficult by internalizing his pain. Looking back, he fought back the only way he knew, to be brave and fight on. He thought I would lose most of my beloved hobbies such as sports , as well as friends, if my female took over after winning the civil war I was going through. Even though most all of that turned out to be false, the fear was real.

All my gender battles created extreme pressure within me. Finally the strain culminated with me attempting a self harm or suicide attempt. Fortunately I wasn't very good and failed. From the attempt I began to think back at all the other self destructive attempts I tried in my life. Not all as dramatic but all equally as sad. If I had not been busy fighting my own destructive civil war, how much more could I have accomplished in my life. 

No matter how you cut it, civil wars are never kind or pleasant and transgender civil wars are no different.