Memorial Day

 

Author in Civil War Cemetery
Cincinnati, Ohio.

It is the time once again for my annual Memorial Day post.

It always seems to me, the true meaning of the weekend gets lost on things such as cookouts, parades and fireworks. Every once in a while, I will receive a "Thanks for your service" on Memorial Day and because I am a Vietnam Era vet. I am always sure to thank the person but the weekend is not about the veterans who survived all the various wars this country has fought over the years. The real reason for Memorial Day is to stop and remember all those who served and paid the ultimate sacrifice with their lives.

Speaking of lives, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the transgender veterans who perhaps joined the military to "prove" their manhood and died while they were still in their closets.  So sad they never had the chance to express themselves. 

To all of you who lost a close family member in a war or have a veteran who is still suffering from combat trauma, you have all my respect and Memorial Day is for you.

At the least, as I said, take the time to remember that freedom is never free and it is a constant struggle to maintain it from enemies from outside and inside our country. I know also of the many transgender veterans I hear from here on the blog. (Georgette and others.) I know you all have the proper perspective on the day but still, thanks for being a survivor! One of the true meanings of Memorial Day.    

The Power of Hope as a Trans Girl

Image from Dayne Tompkin
on UnSplash.

Of all the emotions, perhaps hope is one of the most powerful.

Especially, these days when the world seems to be coming after the entire transgender community, hope seems to be a precious commodity. In my case, I learned slivers of hope came in the form of brief gender euphoria, when I glimpsed the girl looking back at me from the mirror. She gave me hope I could keep trying to live my dream. 

Then I was forced back into my mundane drab male life I never really wanted and my hope disappeared. Often for long periods of time before I could cross dress again. I was in despair until I could glimpse my feminine image again in the mirror. Perhaps the worst part was I did not know exactly what I was looking for. More preciously, I did not understand the predictability of my urge to be a girl my age. If I was able to document it at all, it seemed every week at least once I wanted to cross dress and be feminine. Why did the euphoria of dressing not last? It wasn't until much later I would realize my answer was I was more of a transgender woman than anything else. 

In the meantime, I was busy watching the teen aged girls I so wanted to be like. Without being creepy, I noticed how they moved and what they wore. When I did, it gave me hope I could someday live my dream of being a woman. Even though I was a student of the female gender, life kept me stuck where I didn't want to be. Later I began to understand no one gets out of life without trauma and mine was an extension of being transgender. Learning to live with my trauma and still hope for better kept me going along with small periods of gender euphoria.

Initially, I took the easy way out by taking trips to mall clothing stores where everyone could present as anybody as long as their money was green and by going to gay venues where it was easy to get in. Later I learned in the gay bars, anyone was admitted but very few transgender women were ever accepted. Which made sense, the men in the gay venue were there for other men, not one who was cross dressed as a woman. I found the best I could hope for was to be accepted as a drag queen which I wasn't. 

The whole process forced me further into the world and gave me new hope for the future. I expanded my horizons past the mirror and into the life I write about so often. Surprisingly, I felt a new life as a transgender woman was possible so I started gender affirming hormones to allow the process to be easier. New friends who never knew my old male self helped me along more than they ever knew and the nights when I went out to be alone suddenly became to socialize with the world. My hope to achieve my dream was alive and well. 

However I felt about my dream coming together, the more I knew I needed to work harder to make sure it happened. For example, I needed to change as many of my legal gender markers as possible back in those days in backwards Ohio. With the help of letters from my supportive therapist, most of the process was surprisingly easy. 

Overall, the power of hope in my transgender life has been a wonderful influence but not a super power which was easy to find or nourish. The whole process took me too many years to accomplish what I set out to do because I did not have the wherewithal or even the courage to do it. Eventually, I did learn it would take more than just hope to fulfill my life dreams, it took action. 

Trans Displacement or an Impostor?

Image from Tengyart
on UnSplash.

Sometimes, even when I am successful living the life of a transgender woman in a space I had always could ever dream of, I wonder if I am merely an impostor.

Am I taking the place of another cis-woman who could be living in my place? And did I deserve to be there. Then, I come to my senses and think no, all of that is crazy. Instead of taking another woman's place, I was replacing a man who did not approve of his lifestyle at all and wanted to change it. The only displacing I was doing came at the expense of myself.

I certainly paid my dues learning what I needed to do to complete the process. My life was made up of too many blind corners to count. Once I conquered one blind corner, seemingly another would magically appear. Many, I had no idea of what I needed to face to move forward. When I did become relatively successful in my quest to change my gender, perhaps the cruelest joke at all came along. It happened when I began to suffer what is called "impostor syndrome" or ending up in the middle of a girls night out party feeling as if I was out of place. Finally, I overcame my reservations and was able to enjoy myself. I deserved to be there as much as the next woman and I was not displacing anyone. 

Sadly, there were more blind corners than I can remember but I managed to keep my life together and proceed as fast as I could. I still had too many self destructive moments. Mostly, when I did all I could to try to out myself and ruin all I knew of my male life. I drove too fast and drank way too much and even went into the restaurant I managed cross dressed because I thought I could get away with it. Long story short, I didn't and I put my very good employment in jeopardy. I wasn't satisfied going to the established venues I was going to out of town and wanted more and more. All along, I was doing more and more and didn't realize it. I needed to learn all the nuances of being a successful transgender woman in the world but wasn't patient enough to do it. Mainly, my communication skills in all the various worldly situations I could put myself in needed improvement. 

It was frustrating when I thought life was good and the idea of me being a gender impostor snuck in. Why was I out in the world trying to be a woman in a space inhabited by cis women. Many of whom did not appreciate my being in their world. I developed a thick skin over time and finally decided the women who did not like me for no apparent reason (other than the obvious) had problems of their own which did not include me. Once I developed my thick shell, my confidence as a transgender woman increased and life was better.

After a lifetime of experience, I made it out of my own head and into the world. When I did, I was able to put any ideas of trans displacement behind me. In no way was I an impostor and I had earned my position as a woman as much as any other cis-woman. Females aren't women at birth and they are socialized into the experience the same as I was. I just happened to take another path. One of which often gave me more insight into life because I lived a life on both sides of the gender border. I even found myself giving advice to other women on how to communicate better with their men. I was flattered and any idea of me being a gender impostor began to disappear. 

At the same time, I finally stopped encountering any idea of displacement and went on living my dream life I never thought I would ever get to. It was always my impossible dream to live as a woman (trans or not) and I began to ignore the naysayers. Life became more livable and pleasurable and all imposters turned out to be other women in my world.