Saturday, December 23, 2023

Making a List

Image from the 
Jessie Hart Archives

Making a list and checking it twice of course is a very Christmassy thing to do. The closer we would become to Christmas itself was the time I checked my funds and decided what last minute shopping I could do. 

Normally, by this time, I had visited all the usual antique malls (dressed as my feminine self) looking for that last minute special gift for my wife. Frustration built  if I couldn't find anything in my price range or find it when I was shopping as a woman. As time ran out, sometimes I was literally the last one in the mall looking for a gift. As luck would have it, many Christmases, I was rewarded and found a wonderful gift for my wife. The only problem was I had to shop as my old unwanted male self. 

She (my wife) was very difficult to buy for because I always knew she we attempt to outdo me in the gift department. We had three major gift exchanges to plan for, so I needed to do the best I could. The first exchange we went to was at my brother's house, the second in the afternoon between the traditional two of us and one at night when she gifted my feminine self with a couple of gifts. Normally, I received very nice sweater and skirt sets which I couldn't wait to put on.  As I remember, one year my wife gave in and let me cross dress and even took a picture (long gone) of me wearing the gifts she gave me. Obviously, most years, I couldn't wait for the special gift exchange to happen.

Through it all, I never made lists. I mentally kept in mind what I wanted to do and even did a fairly good job of keeping it all straight. This carried with me as I began to seriously transition into a transgender woman. Instead of notes, I knew what I had been successful at doing and then knew either I could try it again or attempt something new and often exciting. Examples included when I began to branch out from just going to women's retail stores in malls and trying out new venues such as bookstores and restaurants. Anything to see if I could successfully exist in my new gender world. What turned out happening was I could exist and needed to do more. Once I did. I still never thought I would need to build a whole new life so quickly and still not make any lists to do it. 

No matter where I was, if I tried to make a repeat visit, I found I would be easily remembered so I started to wear the same wig and always dress to blend. When I did, I discovered the world wanted to know more about me for whatever reason. Basically,  women were curious and men stayed away as I left one gender club and sought admission to another. What I would have never thought to put on a list was how I would need to learn to communicate with other women who were so used to saying one thing and doing another. It was difficult for me to determine which boundaries I could cross (or not) with each of them before the claws came out. 

I suppose if I had been a person who worked from written lists, I would have had quite the history of my transgender transition built up. Or how I went through several separate gender transitions to arrive where I am today. Such as moving from serious cross dresser, to finally coming out to myself as transgender, to making the decision, to begin gender affirming hormones. 

I'm fortunate in my so called legacy continues on with my daughter and grandchildren with no written record needed.    

Friday, December 22, 2023

An Opportunity or Challenge

Image from Dylan McLeod 
on UnSplash

If you are similar to me and if you had a quarter for every time you heard a so called problem was no more than an opportunity to improve, you would be wealthy.

As I moved forward down my gender path, I found an increasing number of opportunities. As I mention often (or all the time), I had a difficult time adjusting to how I should try to present myself as a novice cross dresser. All outfits which included too short mini skirts or shorts were out. In place came a more conservative wardrobe which I found I could blend in with the other women I encountered. The challenge or opportunities I encountered were exciting yet terrifying. 

I had many firsts to deal with in my wide wonderful new feminine world. Many of the firsts I encountered, did not go smoothly and I went home sobbing. When I did, in the safety of my own home, I took ownership of the damages and attempted to build a plan to do better in the future. I went through every opportunity to improve such as better makeup, wigs and wardrobe as examples. I was very focused on the entire process. To the point, I had a difficult time when I still had to function as my old male self. I experienced a new challenge to stay in cross dressed mode when I flipped my gender script. Slowly but surely I was spending more physical time as my feminine self. It took me years to realize I was a woman cross dressing as a man. Not the opposite. 

Then, when I really started to seriously cross the gender frontier and deal one on one with the public, other opportunities or challenges became important. By this time, I was becoming very courageous in how I lived my life. I sought new venues to see if I would be challenged as a transgender woman. Some worked out and some didn't, so I crossed many off of the list. Many of the opportunities became challenges back in those days when I first began to seek access to women's restrooms. The whole process was an overall success with some notable failures when I had the police called on me. Still I persisted and earned my rest room privileges the hard way by learning the etiquette involved with using the women's room. Such as always looking other women in the eye, not putting my purse on the floor and pausing to wash my hands (no matter how much attention I was creating) among so many other nuances I was learning. To go into it all would entail a whole different blog post.

Another huge challenge or opportunity I faced was when I decided to begin gender affirming hormones, formerly HRT. There was no way I could anticipate the changes by body would go through. Both externally and internally as I was suddenly seeing the world in a softer version of it's former self. My sense of smell heightened and my thermostat changed as I became colder easier are just two examples. All in all, my body took to the changes easily and I felt as if I should made the change years before I did.

If I had utilized all the time and energy I needed to overcome the challenges of changing my gender and put the energy into my male self, how much farther could he have gone. The end result was so powerful, there was no way I could ever look back and change my reaction to anything.  



Thursday, December 21, 2023

The Elephant in the Room

Halloween Girls Night Out
Kathy on left. 

Many times in my life I have felt as if I was the elephant in the room and it had nothing to do with my physical size. I was a pretty good sized man at around six foot tall and two hundred fifty pounds which kept the bullies away when I was younger so I wasn't a huge man.

All my problems began to surface in my unwanted male life when I went to family events and felt strangely out of place. As my male self I was the elephant in the room, or you could refer to it as the impostor syndrome. All along I was a woman pretending to be a man. 

As life went by and I had more experience presenting in the world as my authentic feminine self, I felt even more out of place at family events such as my brother's house. It was the place we always gathered for big sporting events with him (my only sibling) and his two sons. All was good until I started my hormone replacement therapy and started to appear decidedly more androgynous. Even then, before my breast growth started to happen along with me being able to grow my hair long, I was able to wear a loose fitting shirt and tie my hair back to still remain vaguely male. My last attempt "purging" my feminine self came approximately six months before my second wife unexpectedly passed away from a massive heart attack. 

As I "purged" I vowed to grow a beard which would make it technically impossible to go out dressed as a transgender woman and/or cross dresser. It worked and I was extremely unhappy but my macho cooks at least responded in a positive way, saying I looked more "masculine." Not a compliment I wanted to hear, 

One of the first things I did after my wife's death was shave off my beard and resume attempting to learn more and more how to live a feminine life. When I did, I learned my size could be dealt with and it had nothing to do with being the elephant in the room. In fact, during a couple of my initial girls nights out, one woman acquaintance in the group was even bigger in size than I was. I finally figured out it wasn't so much how much bigger than most women I knew, it was so much more important how I carried myself, as well how well my fashion sense blended with the other cis-women around me.  

However, there were many times when I still did feel like the elephant in the room, when it came to be invited to other girls nights outs. One night in particular comes to mind when I accepted an invite to go with a group of servers and bartenders to party one night at another close by venue. Even though I was warmly accepted in the group, I couldn't shake the idea I just did not come up to their level of attractiveness, which included size. I finally concluded there was nothing I could do about it, relaxed and had a good time. For the most part, they were surrounded by guys trying to pick them up so I very much just faded into the background anyway. 

As with anything else in life, a person has to take the good with the bad. In the long run, my body has provided me with a successful base to operate from. I was big enough and barely athletic enough to keep the bullies away and not too big and masculine I could not squeeze myself into women's fashions. I guess you can say, my elephant ran enough interference for me to get by until I could establish myself as a transgender woman. 

I was the elephant in the room and felt it on many occasions as a impostor man and a trans woman. I lived to tell the tale...so far. 

When Being OK was not Good Enough

  JJ Hart and wife Liz on right at Picnic. I grew up in Ohio raised by greatest generation parents who lived through WWII and the great depr...