The Right Fit

 

Image from the Jessie Hart
Archive

No matter of all the trials and tribulations I went through on my long and eventful transgender journey, I still felt as if everything was the right fit for me. 

Included were all the dark nights when I first began to attempt to test the public as a novice cross dresser (or transvestite). Predictably, in many occasions I was stared at, all the way to being subjected to outright laughter. One time even, I caught one couple trying to take an unwanted picture of me. I call this period of my life, my mirror time. 

Along the way it seemed all I was doing was moving from mirror to mirror seeking the validation of who I really was as my feminine self. In stores, I would always try to seek out well placed mirrors so I could selfishly admire myself. Even to the point of going to the big remodeling/construction box stores so I could look at myself in their selection of mirrors. Through it all, I was slowly building my confidence to come out of my gender shell and face the world. Predictably, I started with store clerks and worked my way forward to others who would actually try to interact with who I was. With my experience in the restaurant/bar industry I knew the benefit of becoming a regular at the bar. I learned the benefit of being hard to forget was a benefit when it came to being remembered. By saying hard to forget, I mention it in a positive way as I tried hard to never be the cause of any negative feelings and always tipped well.

The more I tried to explore the world as a novice transgender woman when the term began to be used, the more I knew it was the right fit for me because I felt so natural once I moved past being so nervous in my new life. I tried more and more venues until I learned (the hard way) which ones I was not welcome in. Ironically one of the first places I felt unwelcome was in a male gay venue where I was treated as a drag queen and had to struggle to even get a drink. The whole scene ended up being beneficial because it sent me back to the bar food/sports venues I was comfortable in. And it was long before I was accepted in several of those and loving my new life. Definitely I had found the right fit, for the time being.

As I was essentially living my dream, deep down I knew the next step I wanted to try was hormone replacement therapy. HRT was not a given for me because of my age and I needed to secure permission from a doctor. I was healthy enough and received a prescription to begin a minimum dosage of Estradiol pills and a testosterone blocker. I couldn't believe the changes which started to happen almost immediately. I knew again, without a shadow of a doubt I had found the right fit as I went through my own version of  a feminine  puberty. Even with the unpleasant hot flashes I experienced the remainder of my body developing as well as my emotional changes were welcome. All of a sudden, I was more subject to moods and I cried for the first time in my life. I even felt temperature changes and my sense of smell became stronger. 

All the radical changes I was going through, proved to me how I had done the right thing by starting HRT. Perhaps my body just was waiting for me to find the right fit my entire life. 

Gender Control Freak

Image from Radu  Florin
on UnSplash

 During my old male life, I admittedly let many things slide.

Primarily, I was not much interested in or put much time into how I looked. The overall sameness in what the male wardrobe had to offer me, just didn't seem to matter. I yearned for the brighter colors and the ever changing fashions the girls or women were able to wear. The process was especially painful during the times when the women who worked with me at one restaurant position I had were able to dress up in their semi formal dresses and appear so beautiful, when I was stuck wearing a restrictive tie with a suit. On those party evenings I was able to dull a portion of my gender pain with alcohol. 

Later on when I was more able to experiment with feminine fashions, I learned just how much work I never considered went into how a woman looked. Of course there were the basic passing privilege all cis and transgender women have to deal with. We all have to deal with and make the best of  what mother nature (or our parents) gave us. Two cis women in particular come to mind when I look back on examples of perfection. For the evening their makeup to jewelry all the way to dress and shoes were on point. The example they set was one I wanted to follow as a trans woman.

The whole process I needed to follow to get there turned out to be far from easy. Not only did I have to attempt to look as good as the women I admired, I needed to take the extra step to look better. I had farther to come and more to prove to accomplish my gender goals. Plus, I desperately wanted to be the one who was being admired for being well put together fashion wise. The entire idea was made even more difficult because I was trying to succeed on a very limited budget with a wife who was not entirely accepting. Through it all, I managed from excessive thrift shopping and saving what money I could to put together what I thought was a passable fashion statement. 

I was helped also by my love of boho fashion trends which took me back to my old hippie days. If I was successful with my thrift shopping, I could find the ideal vintage jeans and/or jeans skirts to really jump start my outfit. 

The difference between what I was doing as a advanced cross dresser (or transvestite)  and my male self was again in the fashion details I needed to follow. In fact, I made it to the point where I could afford to send my work shirts to the dry cleaner to make sure they looked good, while at the same time was concentrating on my feminine appearance. I think one helped the other as I look back on it now. 

To this day, I never made it to the point of being a control freak on anything. Probably the closest I come is making sure I have some sort of a transgender related daily blog post. Most of my ideas come from watching the world around me and relating it to my gender. Often it is a difficult process and I value you all coming along for the ride. I can't thank you enough. 

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.