A Transgender Inch Equals a Mile

Image from Jessie Hart Archives
Civil War Cemetery Cincinnati

Distances are often very blurry when it comes to beginning and pursuing a gender transition. 

The meaning wasn't lost on me when I began to remember what many of my more experienced dating male friends said when it came to discussing their girlfriends. The biggest complaint was when the guys gave in an inch with their women, the women took a mile. 

As I transitioned into the feminine world, often I thought the same thing about my inner girl self. Or, as soon as I cross dressed in front of the mirror, the more she wanted. Specifically, she wanted out of the mirror and into the world. Quite early, it meant making the trip to the mailbox to check to see if there was anything in the box. I so enjoyed the feel of the outside air on my freshly shaved, panty hose covered legs. 

What I discovered was as soon as I made the very short trip out of the door, my girl dreamed of doing more and more in the world. So much so, my entire life was effected to the point I would become very grumpy almost to the point of disorientation when I couldn't cross dress again. The whole process just didn't seem fair because I was doing the best I could with the very limited resources I was able to put together. Fashion was difficult to find for my rapidly growing body but I could manage to buy my own makeup with my very small allowance I earned plus the money I put together from having my own newspaper delivery route.

Through it all, I managed to get by when my inner trans self wanted to take an extra mile when I was giving her an inch. I thought it was some sort of a gender poetic justice when my male friends complained about their girlfriends and I knew exactly what they were talking about when I wasn't outwardly involved with a girl at all. 

It wasn't until much later in life when I could begin to give up more than just an occasional inch to my transgender self and discover all I was missing. More and more I was able to take the extra mile. Even though I was scared (or even terrified) to do it. Such as the first night I went to a "Fridays" bar/restaurant for a cocktail. I ended up sitting in the parking lot for a good thirty minutes checking my makeup before I gathered the courage to go in. Once I did, and began to breathe again, I was able to relax and enjoy myself.

At that point, I was very proud of myself and considered I wouldn't challenge my novice transgender woman for more. After all, I had just given her the mile she wanted and I thought she should be satisfied for awhile. Needless to say, none of that worked. Instead of going to the so-called gay venues she had been going to, she wanted more of the "Fridays" vibe she succeeded in. I found she could become a regular fairly easily by being friendly, minding her own business and above all, tipping well. All of a sudden, a new life was beginning. No matter how scared of it I was at the time. 

Perhaps the biggest transgender inch becoming a mile was when I started gender affirming hormonal treatment. In what seemed a very short period of time, my body femininized as well as my inner self. I was feeling more emotional than ever before in my life as the new hormones took effect. The whole process was close to running a record setting mile. 

All along, my old male self was fighting giving up every inch he could. Not wanting to lose his life and all he had worked for. It turned out, once I went all the way into an new exciting transgender world, he lost the battle and the victory belonged to my stronger half. My feminine self as she took the final mile.

Walking the Transgender Tightrope

 

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UnSplash

I have never been accused of being coordinated at all which completely held me back when it came to me being able to participate in any sort of athletics except for football which often meant dealing with brute strength. 

Little did I know, I would have to develop my own sense of gender coordination to deal with my gender dysphoria. It turns out the better I became navigating the world as a novice transgender woman, the more balance I would need to survive in life. What happened was, the better I became with makeup and fashion, the more confidence I felt and in addition I was gaining the all important confidence to try more and more exciting yet terrifying experiences as my feminine self. 

Doing the more I could possibly hope for led me to trying to walk part of my life in my old male gender and part in my newer female one. My second wife even approved of a plan where I could have three days a week to leave the house dressed as a guy, go to a motel, cross dress as a woman and basically do whatever I wanted. Then dress back into my boring drab male clothes and come home. It didn't take long for me to become bored with this arrangement and I began slipping out of the house behind her back when she was working. Out of sheer willpower I needed to begin being more coordinated in how I was trying to run my gender conflicted life. There was really only one thing I knew for sure, I loved my feminine side and wanted to do more and more to let her out. 

Sadly, the whole process of trying to balance the two genders fighting for dominance within me was destroying my already bi-polar fragile mental health. I tried therapy and for years had only one therapist tell me the truth...there was essentially nothing I could do about wanting to transition into a transgender woman. I was what I was and I should accept it. Of course I wasn't smart enough to take her advice. I still wanted to save what was left of my long term marriage to my second wife while at the same time exploring what could be possible if I actually had the courage to transition into a fulltime world as a transgender woman. 

Finally, after falling off the tightrope more times than I can say, I could take the mounting gender pressure no longer and tried suicide as a solution. Just before my wife passed away from a massive heart attack, I thought I "purged" for the final time and got down from my tightrope. I grew a beard, gained a bunch of weight and overall was miserable but I gave it my best effort. 

I proved to myself I wasn't coordinated enough to navigate something complex enough as a gender tightrope and moved on to living a life as my authentic self. I am not one for regrets but if I allowed myself one, it would be I would have had the courage to transition earlier in life (before the age of sixty.) I would have saved myself so much time, effort and frustration as I attempted to balance my gender tightrope.      

Be Passionate

Image from Ian Schneider 
on UnSplash

When someone questions why I transitioned genders during my life, the main thing I want them to know my decision was not a choice. It was something I needed to do to save my own life. In that sense, I was selfish.

Perhaps, more importantly, the passion I needed to make it down my extremely bumpy, sometimes dark and gloomy gender path, I found I needed an extraordinary amount of inner fortitude to make it. More than I have ever used before in my life. In fact, I'm fond of pointing out, all I really wanted to be in life was a woman, not a doctor or lawyer. 

From that point forward, I knew I needed to follow a difficult path to achieve my feminine dream. To add insult to injury, I started from point zero with very few so called natural feminine appearances to help my cause. In other words, I had a long way to go to approximate looking like a girl and then later on as a woman. Plus, I needed to endure the onset of puberty and all the unwanted male changes testosterone poisoning was making to me. The whole process took an extra amount of passion to conquer by knowing deep down I was doing the right thing. Every time I suffered any sort of a set back, I needed to somehow pick myself up and get back in the game. Something I fought against doing in my male life. When anything bad happened to me, I knew I could run to my closet for a dress and makeup and everything would be all right. But what if I was already in a dress and makeup when the bad happened, what was next? 

What was next, was the chance to do my life better as a cross dresser or novice transgender woman. Being a novice trans woman was such a change for me over cross dressing, it required a whole new passion and learning curve. So many times, I found myself completely in over my head with no clear way on how I was going to find my way out. Somehow I did and knew I was on the right path. To define it more precisely, when I was a cross dresser, I felt as if my main goal was to look good as a woman and when I perceived myself as transgender I needed to be a woman...move better as one and communicate better in the world.

None of the process was easy for me, some of it still isn't to this day. Changing fifty plus years of striving my best to live as a man was difficult to change. More importantly, when the changes did occur with extended girls' time out with my friends happened, I craved more and more time with them. For the first time in my life, my passion was paying off. I remember vividly a Pride I went to in Columbus, Ohio with Kim, Nikki and Liz when we visited many gay and straight venues. With my tolerance to alcohol, I was having a great time and never wanted the evening to end.

I think now, what my friends may have seen in me was my passion shining through and it may have rubbed off on them. At least I hope so. 

These days, I do my best to lead with a smile when I see the world and hope for the best.