We Met in a Mirror

Image from Laura Chouette 
on UnSplash

Along the way I have vivid recollections of how I met most of the memorable cis (or natural born) women in my life. As it turned out, I married several of them. 

Perhaps the most important woman I met was myself when I glimpsed her for the first time in a full length mirror we had at home when I was growing up. All I really remember is the feeling of gender euphoria I felt. Something clicked mentally and I knew somehow, someway I needed to try to cross dress again and even do my best to perfect the image staring back at me. 

Over the years, the problem became I became too addicted to what the mirror was showing me. For as much as I loved playing in the mirror, I was to learn the hard way the whole process was a one way street. As I broke out of my gender closet and into the world, the public did not see me the same as the mirror did. Stares and laughter all too often followed me around during my earliest gender adventures as a novice cross dresser. 

Still I persisted and learned without the help of the women in my life. The only one who tried turned out to be a dismal failure. She was my fiancé from my college days and I talked her into dressing me head to toe as a woman. I say failure because after she was done, I did not see much improvement over my efforts. Plus, over time, she held my gender issues against me and even wanted me to tell the military I was gay to stay out of the Vietnam War. Something I never did and went off to serve my three years, away from her. Which was a real blessing from many angles. 

From there I stayed mostly single until my last year in the Army when I met my first wife who was in the Women's Army Corps, also stationed where I was in Germany. We stayed together after both of us discharged all the way to when we had my only child, a daughter. My first wife knew of and mostly accepted the fact I was a cross dresser before we were married and was never really bothered about it. During this time I was beginning to learn my new life was everything but living in a mirror. I was beginning to take on the world as my authentic self when I met my second wife.

I was working at a radio station in Ohio where we met and I just knew I had to divorce my first wife and be with her. She was so full of life and strong willed, I thought she might do me good and went all out to be with her. Through it all, she as my first wife knew I was a cross dresser and accepted it also. We were married for twenty five years until she passed away from a massive heart attack at the age of fifty. Till the day she died nothing changed about how she viewed my cross dressing but she firmly drew the line at no HRT hormones or for me going towards being a transgender woman at all. 

As I wrote in my post yesterday, I was between the rock and the hard place when if came to my transgender issues. I had taken the steps to firmly move out of the mirror and into the world. The mirror became the place where I just checked myself out every morning to see if I looked masculine or the least bit feminine. Most of the time setting off my gender dysphoria or despair. I finally came to the conclusion nothing was as bad as it seemed or as good as the mirror tried to tell me. I had come to the middle point I needed to meet in the mirror.   

Emotional Blackmail

Image from Callum
Skelton on UnSplash

Emotional blackmail is another of those terms or labels which is difficult to describe or understand.

The way I look at it is, the blackmail describes the portion of my life I lived with my second wife when we constantly battled over my increasingly feminine gender identity. In fact, now, in hindsight I look at the time when two strong women were clashing with each other. My wife and the other was me. Every time I was successful when I went out as a transgender woman, the bigger our fights became. Examples included the time when I went to a transvestite or cross dresser mixer when we lived in New York. The gatekeepers who were placed to keep cis-women out made me show my identification to prove I really was a guy. The entire incident put me on cloud nine for days following but on the other hand, made me very difficult to live with. Predictably, my wife and I clashed and my inner woman felt who was my wife anyway. 

As life went on, the emotional blackmail continued and even worsened. Our sex life worsened because I insisted on making love as two women. She hated the idea and all activity ground to a halt until she passed away. It was during this time also when I was sneaking out more behind her back and meeting new people for the first time. Ironically, I was approached by way more women than men and primarily became friends with lesbians for some reason. Whatever the reason was, I was enjoying the new company I had found and was able to learn so many things from them. One night on one of my gender parties I went to I ended up leaving with a single lesbian woman and going to a dance club in Columbus, Ohio. Nothing physical happened so I considered it another case of emotional cheating I was doing to my wife of twenty five years.

Sometimes I wondered if the emotional blackmail I was subjecting my wife to was worse than any other form of abuse. Sadly or not, I couldn't do anything about my quest to understand and be a better woman. Probably, what was left of my old male self who loved my wife dearly and on occasion had enjoyed our life together was the biggest obstacle to changing it all and coming out fulltime. He kept screaming at me to not give up and the ripping and tearing of living between two genders nearly killed me. Plus, after or during one of our biggest fights, my wife told me something to the tune of why didn't I be enough of a man to be a woman. It would have certainly have been the best way out of the torment if I had only listened. Of course I didn't. 

I was one of the fortunate transgender women as I found a soft landing spot with plenty of assistance when I transitioned. I learned to rely on my feminine instincts which had been ignored for so long as my new life began to take shape. And most importantly emotional blackmail faded into my past as something which never really happened. We all know it did. It wasn't right and I wasn't a strong enough person to do anything about it. 

The Essence of Being Transgender

 

Go Buckeyes! Image from the
Ohio State Union...

It is very difficult to explain to another person why you are a transgender woman or trans man. 

I can only compare it to why a cis-woman just knows she is a feminine person. To just say I was born this way is a huge over simplification. To begin with just being assigned female or male at birth does not necessarily guarantee you will ever make it to being a woman or a man. Many people just don't for whatever reason. Perhaps you have encountered a person or two (or several) in your life who never seemed to grasp the ideals of their supposed gender. In most cases, they became unhappy and unfulfilled people. 

Transgender people have it harder since we were forced into boxes we did not want to be in. Or, the old square peg into the square hole status. First we trans individuals had to figure out what our problem was then try to have an idea what to do about it. In most cases we had to come out fighting to claim our limited space in society.

In many cases we faced other women who pushed back on our transgender essence...even trans women who wanted to say you were not trans enough to be included in their little clubs. These women were not unlike other cis-women (natural born females) who resisted our inclusion into their worlds. These transphobes or TERF's did and can attempt to make life miserable for unsuspecting transgender women. I have never figured out what their true problem was or is. I faced it head on one night at a lesbian Valentine's Day dance Liz and I went to. A lesbian came up to me and rudely asked what my "real" name was and was very nasty before she finally gave up and went her own way.

I have never figured out why other women would not want to be more inclusive of us and broaden their population base. Especially with all the attacks women are facing on all sides in politics and with personal safety. I write often how quickly I learned what could happen when my personal safety male privilege was taken away. I was cornered by a huge man at a party and had to be rescued by my second wife one night and then much later was stopped by two men when I was alone at night outside a gay bar in an a dark, lonely urban setting. I learned quickly never to be alone again in those situations. 

I guess the problem of explaining essence is because it is so vague. It has always been so difficult to tell others I have always known I am transgender simply because I was. I am as much as a woman as anyone else. I just had to take a different path to arrive at my goal of jumping from an unwanted male life to a fulltime feminine one. 

If they don't listen or can't understand, it is their problem. Not mine.