Mourning your Past

Image from the
Jessie Hart Archives

Is there ever a time when you miss your old gender self? 

Do you miss your old male privileges which seemingly gave you more rights?  Remember the old days when you survived with the myth of more intelligence and less mansplaining in any conversation with a man. While I remember the shock of my first times of interaction with a group of men who essentially were ignoring me, on the other hand I thought somehow I had arrived in the place I wanted to be. I was experiencing first hand the loss of the privilege's I had fought so hard to accumulate in a male world I didn't like. 

No matter how much you enjoy your new life as a transgender woman or trans man, possibly there could be times when you miss the good times? On my end, it is very rare when I miss the "good old days" which weren't so good. 

On a recent interview with a Veterans Life Insurance representative I experienced a brief glimpse into my past when I needed to explain my gender situation with the sales person. For the sake of insurance, since I have not undergone any gender realignment surgeries, I had to tell the person I was still biological a male,  even though I lived as a woman. Through the confusion, the only person who really suffered was my daughter who was rudely interrupted by an insurance call which referred to me as a "he". Since she has a transgender child and a is a fierce ally of the trans community, she was not happy. So I ended up calling the representative and asking what she was doing calling her at all. 

Other moments of surprise and a bit of shock occurred during the times when I had my personal safety challenged. The first time happened during a party I was attending in Columbus, Ohio with my second wife who was strongly opposed to the mini skirt I was wearing. Her fears for me materialized when during the party a huge cross dresser admirer cornered me in a narrow hallway. For the first time in my life, I was made to feel powerless about my body until I was rescued by my wife and he freed me. 

The second major time happened one night when I was leaving a late night urban gay venue on a lonely, dark street in Dayton, Ohio. As I clicked down the sidewalk in my high heels, I was suddenly approached by two men. Again I felt totally powerless and on the edge of panic. That night I was lucky when I was able to use my last five dollar bill and they went away to my relief. From then on, I learned my lesson and always tried to park in close well lit parking lots. The old days of just having more personal security were over but I knew they had to go.

Overall I looked at the whole privilege changing time as a challenge and one I needed to conquer. Through it all, I had no time or will power to mourn any of my past. The only time I have twinges is during football season when I remember a few of the intense past experiences I went through when my second wife (a big fan too) attended all the biggest The Ohio State Buckeyes football games. Admittedly most  were memorable times I would not trade like the birth of my daughter which I was present for. 

Being part of the two binary genders has made me an overall better person. Mourning was just a part of my life as is it is a part of any other life. I view the process as a plus as I tried hard to leave my old male past behind and begin a new life as a transgender woman.    

Gender Misfits

Image from Bruno Guerrero 
on UnSplash

I know I am speaking to the choir here when I point out how alone we all felt concerning our gender issues early in life.

Those of us of a certain age vividly remember the days before the internet brought the world closer and social media made it easier to contact like minded transgender individuals. Or I should say cross dressers and/or transvestites were included also. Suddenly, a whole new world was available to us.

In the meantime, there was so much we needed to figure out on our own. Without any sort of a peer group to help us with our clothes and makeup, often the process of adjusting to the world took longer. So, the feeling of being a misfit became very ingrained. I know for the longest time, I deeply felt all of my gender problems were of my own doing. How else could I explain the differences I felt with everyone else? Long story short, I couldn't and often my feelings left me deeply depressed.  How could I ever move through my life.

Somehow I made it through this very unsure time of my life. The problem was I was usually unable to seek out any long term friendships. Outside of a very few exceptions, I had very few friends in the new, larger high school I transferred to from the small rural school I previously went to. Plus, as far as girl friends were concerned, it took me until the end of my junior year to have my first date with a girl at all and that one was basically set up by people I barely knew. I was being set up for a friend of theirs's for the prom that year. Once again, I felt as if I was a misfit and should be the one wearing the elegant gown and be the one receiving the flowers. Even though I was scared to death, I made it through the evening and even ended up having a fairly good time.

Even with the first big date with a girl out of the way, I still felt as if I was still a misfit. I stayed in my very small group of friends who were mainly into sports and cars which enabled me to keep the bullies away. At least if I was a misfit, I was a protected one. 

Amazingly, when I went away to college, my desire to be a girl hit an all time low...for awhile. Of course, just when I was feeling like I was able to shake my misfit status, the old feelings came back. Before I knew it, once again I was cross dressing as much as I could and I was still feeling as my old misfit self. 

It wasn't until much later in life when I was able to fully accept myself as a transgender woman. When I did, the whole time I thought I was a misfit was wrong. I also discovered transvestite mixers and support groups where I met others with similar gender issues. The whole process enabled me to discover where I belonged on the gender spectrum. Meeting others was all it took to take away all doubts of me being the one who was a misfit. 

I just wish it didn't take me so long to come to the realization society was made up of misfits and not me.

Into the Fire

Actual Image from Bar-Mitzvah 
Liz on left, daughter on right.

 Shortly after I let the world into my gender closet, I had to hitch up my new big girl panties and get in the game. Under big time fire. 

What happened was, just after I came out to my daughter just happened to closely coincide with my oldest grandson's Jewish Bar-Mitzvah. Little did I know at the time how closely I would be involved.

What happened was, since I was one of the grandparents, I actually had a small part to read at the formal ceremony at their temple.

Fortunately, I had plenty of experience in public speaking from my old radio days so I wasn't afraid of getting back up in front of a crowd of people. Plus, I thought, how many people would show up anyhow and this would be my first chance to interact with many strangers for the first time as a transgender woman. No pressure, right????

When the time quickly rolled around, I was surprised how many people showed up for the ceremony. The rows of pews quickly were filling up along with my anxiety. What would all the strangers think of me and especially, what would my grandson. Finally, it was my turn to speak my part of the ceremony and there was no turning back. Naturally I was petrified and tried to hold back my panic. To make a long story short, the presentation I gave went by in a split second and nobody in the audience seemed to pay any attention to me anyhow as far as my gender presentation went.

After I was tossed into the fire, I was warmly greeted by the Rabbi who welcomed me into the ceremony plus, later I had the opportunity to meet her again at the party which was held afterwards. Of course the party was my chance to wind down and relax following my brief but intense place in the spotlight. 

On the way home, when I could finally breathe again, I marveled on how completely I was accepted by my daughter's new religion. I'm far from an expert on the difference in Jewish faith's but I think her temple is part of the Reformed Jewish religion. Since that time, I have been easily accepted by all of her in-laws, so that must be the case.

When I thought of the entire occasion later, I came to the conclusion of when you are going to jump into the fire, do it all the way. 

And finally, the best part was my grandson seemed to be really proud of me for participating as my authentic self.  Lesson learned from being a good role model.

I don't write it nearly enough, but thanks to all of you who stop by to read my writings. Your input makes it all worthwhile!