Loose Ends

 

Image from the Jessie Hart
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With this post, I have several loose ends to tie up and move on from...for awhile.

Perhaps the most important is my health. I finally received the information from my Veteran's Administration doctors from my recent colonoscopy. Fortunately, everything they removed turned out to be non-cancerous and I was cleared to not return for three years. A real improvement over the last time I went through the procedure only a year ago. I was paranoid I would have to do it again so soon, or worse they would find signs of cancer. As I always like to say, without my health I am nothing. 

Another loose end was a recent meet and greet I went to with a group of diverse friends I am part of. The morning started out with the knowledge my wife Liz, who wasn't feeling good would not be going with me to the brunch which was going to be held at a close by upscale brew pub. Liz and I are normally inseparable, so I knew I would miss her. For the occasion, I wore my new boots, favorite cream colored sweater and dark leggings, Light makeup and what passed for a quick brushing of my hair and I actually felt pretty good about myself. What could go wrong? A heavy cold rain which ruined my hair on the way in because I forgot an umbrella was the first thing which went wrong. Of course I survived a little rain, didn't melt and headed in to the crowded venue  As it turned out my group was clear across the room and I received little or no extra attention as I made my way back to them. So again, I was feeling good about myself. 

All was good until the server came back to take our orders. Out of the clear blue sky (which was cloudy) when it was my turn to order she turned to me and said, can I help you "Sir". The one little word, completely ruined my mood as I told her I wasn't a "Sir." She apologized twice but the damage was already done and it took me awhile to restore my confidence as a transgender woman. The damage went so far to me that I felt sorry for my friend who was sitting next to me and heard what the server said and I think felt my shock. Other than the shaky beginnings, the rest of the meet and greet went well and I headed off to do other errands and be home so I could watch the football playoffs. 

Another loose end I have been waiting to hear about is the outreach idea I had from the Alzheimer's Association diversity group I am a part of. They were/are trying to set me up to do an interview for a statewide Ohio publication called the "Buckeye Flame." Recently I talked virtually to one of the women who was responsible for setting up the interview and she told me she would talk to the person who would be doing it for a time. Since it has been a very difficult time in Ohio for all transgender women and trans men, due to all the anti transgender laws being passed in the legislature, I am sure the publication has bigger fish to fry than talking to me. One way or another, I am sure I will find out more at a upcoming diversity council meeting I will be attending virtually soon. 

For now, that is all the loose ends of my life which need to be tied up. Hopefully, there will be more outreach coming up soon to write about. 

Macho Remembered

Image from the Jessie Hart Archives

 I don't think I ever considered myself as a macho guy but then again, there were times I needed to be. 

Those were the times on the football field, in the Army
or when I was at work when my macho image worked to my advantage. Mainly because I needed it to. In fact, on occasion, I came to rely upon it to do better in life. On other occasions, my main macho props were cigars and beer. 

Interestingly, when I transitioned, I discovered a new side of macho. Very early on when I was coming out as a novice transgender woman, I shied away from any contact with a man I felt was macho. I thought he would recoil at any interaction with me. Slowly but surely, I learned none of it  rarely ever happened. For the most part the majority of all men tended to ignore me  anyhow and the pressure to succeed went away. 

The biggest example I can recall is the time I developed a friendship with a big bear of a guy at one of the venue's where I was a regular. He was part of a small group of diverse people I met on a weekly basis. While I was part of the group, the guy also fell victim to an ill-fated marriage to another member of the group, a long dark haired beauty who also was a hair dresser as well as part time exotic dancer. As you most likely can imagine the marriage just wouldn't work. What happened was, the remainder of the group basically shunned him. All except me. I gave him a shoulder to lean on. What I neglected to mention was the guy owned a classic motorcycle. Even though I was never really a fan of motorcycles, I could appreciate the inherent beauty of the machine and I could pass along my ideas to him.

It wasn't long before he came into the venue and ended up setting next to me to talk. He was the first macho guy I became comfortable with but sadly he moved on too soon when he transferred to another lumber yard in a neighboring town. I never had the chance to hitch a ride on the back of his classic bike. From him I learned confidence in my dealings with all men. Including the first time I was asked out to dinner from a transgender man. 

Which leads me to yet another different attraction I always felt when I was with a group of lesbians. If you don't know, lesbians range all the way from lipstick women to super butch lesbians. For whatever reason, I never had any problem attracting to and relating to the super butch spectrums of lesbian women. I have never been shy writing about the time the super butch cornered me and strongly suggested I sing karaoke with her. I very poorly did it and took off before she had any other chances to talk to me. 

Oddly, my interactions with macho guys also extended into the male gay community. When Liz and I went to Mardi Gras several years ago we ended up in a gay bar heavily frequented by "bears" or macho bearded large men. There, as well as several Prides we went to, I had "Bears" smile and speak to me. 

Perhaps it all has to do with the aura I project. I lived such a long portion of my life attempting to survive in a male world, I still have an in-depth knowledge of the culture. Which doesn't explain the paranoia I always felt when dealing with men. Perhaps I will never lose my fear. 

Finally, what I also learned was many men who project as macho really aren't in the toxic sense and they are more secure in their masculinity. Which makes them safer for all women... Cis-gender and transgender. We need more non toxic men.

Running as Hard as I Can

Image from UnSplash

Throughout my life, I frenetically ran from one thing to another.

In theory I was never much of a runner and only ran  when I was forced to during times I was in the Army and/or played football. So running never came naturally to me. for some reason though, when I was discharged from the military was when I free to face the world again would I settle down or run again. My answer started to emerge. It didn't take long as  I remembered when I was discharged and was heading home to Ohio from Ft. Dix in New Jersey. Before I arrived home, I had the entire Pennsylvania Turnpike to drive. Before I did so,  I paused for a second to ponder what I was going to do with my life. Surprisingly, at that time gender played just a small part of my future. Perhaps I was saving my gender issues for the future. 

Possibly also, at the time, I was still basking in the glow of coming out as a transvestite or cross dresser to three of my closest friends in the Army. Included in the group was a woman who was also in the Army. We had worked out she would meet me following her discharge and we would decide what would come next in our relationship. After we decided to visit her parents in California from Ohio, we decided to get married and as I said, she was fully versed in my gender issues. At least to the point which I considered them to be. At the time, I considered myself a serious cross dresser and I had a long way to go to being transgender.

As time went by, I switched professions from being a commercial radio disc jockey to the restaurant industry which at the time was expanding rapidly. To support my new family (daughter), I needed to be able to make more money. During the same time, I wedged in buying a small bar with a friend which eventually became a fairly successful pizza and beer restaurant. To make matters worse, I was beginning to feel the gender pressures I would need somehow to learn to live with. Even though I managed to dress in drag on various Halloween parties I went to, the rest of the time, I lived in my dark lonely gender closet knowing the next day I would be back in my male drag. 

To make up for my issues, I tried to offset my thoughts by moving our home as well as switching jobs. In addition, when I could, I tried to participate in civic groups which gave back to the community. Anything it seemed to take my mind off my desire to be feminine. Along the way my second wife and I moved from our native Ohio to the New York City metro area and then back to a new very rural area of Ohio which bordered on West Virginia. In the space of a couple years we went from living in very upscale Westchester County, New York to living in a farmhouse near the Muskingum River in Ohio where we heated with wood and needed water trucked in during times of the year which were drier than others. I was running from my problems as fast as I could.

The end result was I finally had enough and I needed to face my problems head on. One lonely night, I realized I had experienced enough of living a transgender life, I wanted to live it full time. My old male self had lost the battle and my new life felt so natural. 

It turned out I was never very good at running to start with.