It Was All a Dream

Image from Marcos Paulo Prado 
on UnSplash

Similar to so many other transgender women and trans men, when I was young often I woke up sad in the morning after vividly dreaming I was living as my preferred feminine gender. 

Of course, then depression set in when I had to face yet another unwanted day as my old male self. On those days, very little motivated me to get going. Somehow I managed to make it through another day. On the good days, I had figured out how I could sneak around my family's back and cross dress in my small wardrobe and admire myself in the mirror. In the meantime, I tried to study the cis-women (natural born) around me to see if there was anyway I could copy their dress or mannerisms without being too obvious. I was so envious.

It took me years and even decades to figure out how totally reversed my gender dreaming really was. To this day, after living as long as I have as a full time transgender woman, my dreams are still flipped. In other words, most of my dreams still involve me as my old unwanted male self. I'm sure the main reason is the fact proportionately I still have lived the majority of my life in a stressful male world. To be successful I just had to learn the game well. All of which has carried into, and remains a substantial portion of my self-conscious thought. 

Plus, on occasion, I feel as if my entire gender existence has been nothing more than an extended dream. Perhaps it is because for such a long period of time I considered being able to live as a transgender woman was just an impossible dream. Then when I began to leave my mirror behind and break out of my gender closet into the world, I began all the changes I would need to do to live a new fulfilled life. Suddenly my life evolved from just doing my best to appear as a woman, all the way to communicating effectively as a trans woman with other women in the world.   

It was around this time of gender discovery when I started to believe I had my whole life backwards. There were certain aspects somehow I needed to do as a male but overall the other set of experiences I went through could have been lived by my dominate feminine self. I couldn't believe how much easier my life became when I finally gave in to her and let her live. She in essence was telling me she was right all along and she was.

It turned out, my dyslexic self had my gender mixed up also. All along when I  considered myself a male to female cross dresser, in reality I was a female to male cross dresser just trying to survive in an unwanted world. 

Now my past is mostly a dream, some parts good and others bad. Perhaps one of these days my sub-conscious will flip into dominant feminine role too and my dreams will become predominantly feminine in nature. I suppose if that is all I have to complain about, life is good.   

While My Blog Gently Weeps

Bubba and Brittini

Sadly, this story has been making it's way around the internet recently and friends such as Bobbi have reached out to me with the news.

Spoiler alert, the story is more than just sad, it is tragic. Perhaps by now you have heard of "Bubba Copeland" the former mayor of "Smith's Station, Alabama." I say former because Bubba committed suicide following being outed by a right wing publication called the 1819 News which outed Bubba's so called secret life as a curvy transgender woman. Bubba Copeland was also a Baptist minister who reportedly was a clergyman who cared deeply about their church and community.

Predictably, the only thing which mattered to the gender bigots who outed Bubba was the fact she was a transgender woman. If you are interested if the so called "news" source where all this came from felt at the least bad about Bubba's death. They didn't. "Craig Monger" who wrote the post supposedly supporting Alabama values on "X" (Twitter) said "Digging up someone's personal life is reporting on what someone posts on social media. The Alabama Baptist reported on the churches live stream. I actually spoke to the mayor." Not a word of sympathy was found on anything I read on the publication's site I could find.

Those of us who have dealt with gender issues our entire life know the inner torment Bubba must have gone through. No matter how many good deeds Bubba tried to do as a minister and a mayor in a small Alabama town devastated by a tornado, mattered as much to the 1819 News as much as how they dealt with a closeted transgender person. No mention was made of her life and what she faced. Gender dysphoria is hell to say the least. No attempt at any understanding of the tragedy. 

Brittini was survived by a wife and three children. May she be remembered for her good deeds. 

The Slippery Slope

Image from the Jessie
Hart Archives

I can't imagine the freedom some younger transgender youth have when their parents approve of and actually help with their gender transition.

I can use the example of my own grandchild who benefited completely from having the support of both of their parents. (It is the grandchild's choice to be referred to as they.) Of course how I grew up was totally on the opposite side of the acceptance spectrum. I was expected to be the best boy I could be and if I wasn't. I was always expected to do better. As much as I resented being put through all of that, the process probably set me up for success later in life. When I faced difficult situations, I just kept trying until on occasion I found success. 

Finding success as I sought out what to do concerning my increasingly serious gender issues proved to be my greatest win but it did not come easily. I compare it to being on a very slippery gender slope and finding yourself losing control the perceived damage. I was very scared on what could happen if I completed my male to female gender transgender transition I could lose everything I worked for in my semi-successful male life such as family, friends and finances to name a few of the major ones. 

Once the sliding began and I started to slide down the slope, I couldn't stop. The biggest problem was I didn't really care because for the first time in my life I felt natural in my own skin. I didn't have to put up feeling just a little all the way to being completely foreign when I was successful as a man. Nothing seems to have been enough until it came time to being a success as a transgender woman. The biggest move came when I made the decision to slide further down the slope and commit to being fully trans and away from being a highly active cross dresser. I was becoming more and more convinced I was doing the right thing by throwing my male life away and living a feminine one. 

What became increasingly obvious, it was time for me to lose my grip and tumble the remainder of the way down my gender slope. I finally could take the effort to jump the gender border before it killed me. I was trying my best to live equally between the two binary genders. Male for three days a week and female for the rest of the time. The resultant ripping and tearing led me to a major mental health breakdown with a suicide attempt. I saw the writing on the wall and finally decided to slide off my slippery gender slope. When I did not know was how my new circle of friends would be around for me to soften my landing.

Not only did my circle of cis-women friends accept me, they unknowingly helped me understand the basics of surviving in the feminine world. I call it being able to play in the girls sandbox.

Surprisingly, I survived the slippery slope much easier than I thought I would. Sure I had a few scratches and scrapes on the way down. Overall, as I said, I was the fortunate survivor of a very difficult gender struggle. Hopefully, in their own way my grandchild will not have to endure such a slippery slope.