The Ultimate Gender Grab

Image from the author, 
JJ Hart.

In many ways, this is an extension of yesterday's post which partially examined my transition from my male self into a feminine world. 

Along the way, there needed to be an ultimate gender grab to be successful. Very early on, the desire to view my image in the mirror was the fun part. I struggled to dream high and stay grounded with my gender desires which always threatened to change my life for the worse if anyone discovered my secret life in dresses and hose. I found I needed to reach out quickly and grab on any small amount of unattended time to cross dress away from my male self into my authentic transgender self. 

Sadly, my male self and society kept trying to grab my gender reality away from me. Some of it was my fault early on with how I presented myself in public. I found any edge I gave the public to "discover" me often led to a bad reaction. Serious side effects included my fragile novice transgender confidence being shattered. When it all happened, it took me weeks or even months to try again to grab my true gender back from the world. 

At that point, all the pushing and grabbing became almost too much to bear and I resorted to therapy to shore up my frail mental health. Plus, I fell back on a high level of alcohol abuse. When I went out to venues to see if I could make it as a woman, invariably I appreciated the false sense of bravery the alcohol gave me. The only positive came when I discovered other women friends in the venues I went to and they helped me to make a giant feminine gender grab which helped me towards my dream. All of a sudden, actually living as a transgender woman became a reality. The need for alcohol faded away.

The grab became so close, my male self panicked and did his best to hang on to all the work he had put into my old life. My feminine self came to the rescue and grabbed back her share of my life and ultimately won the war, even though she had lost all those battles over the years. Amazingly, all the battle scars she had sustained were easy to heal. She was saying, she had been there and done it as a subservient second fiddle to my male self and had enough of the lies. She thrived under the new life she had inherited and grabbed back all of the gender privileges she had only dreamed of. Better yet, she didn't care what the public thought of her and her confidence soared. 

It's no secret to anyone how the final gender grab would end up with me. My trans woman over achieved to an extent I never thought possible. When I was able to set back and trust her to run the show, the future was secure.   

 

Gender Black-Mail

Image from JJ Hart, Ohio River
in background.

 Even though I have been living as a transgender woman for over a decade of my life now, my male past still comes back to haunt me. 

I suppose I am expecting too much from my gender transition since I spent such a long period of my life trying desperately to fit in with a male world I did not really want any part of. Recently, sadly an acquaintance of mine who was a fellow DJ on a local radio station passed from cancer. When I learned, memories flowed in including good ones and those not so good. One of the more interesting memories I have was of the time his wife (also deceased) told me about a new DJ at the station I used to work at who actually was starting her gender transition. I was surprised she had a fairly positive reaction to the gender issues so long ago. Way before the term transgender was popularized. Why I am mentioning it at all is it always amazes me what I remember or don't remember from my male past.

As I moved closer and closer to crossing the gender border, it seemed my old male self had an unfair advantage over me because he always mentally pointed out the good times there were when I was a guy. It was similar to gender black-mail. He would always say what about all the good times I had with guy friends when we were out partying. Essentially, overuse of alcohol allowed me to forget about my gender dysphoria for awhile and I could have a good time for the wrong reasons.

In addition, it was so so easy to fall back into my old male patterns and enjoy all the privileges I had earned from surviving as a man. When I transitioned into a feminine world, losing those privileges made a significant impact in my life. It seemed at the time, when I encountered most men, single or in a group, they held it against me that I had left the male club for greener gender pastures. Their way of black-mailing me was to shun me from any or all contact. At that point, their resistance just showed me I was on the correct gender path and I was more and more encouraged to try to advance to my dream.

Another facet I mention often is how my second wife and my male self enjoyed ganging up on my novice transgender self. My wife in very begrudgingly situations would let me go out with her as my authentic self. Predictably, she didn't like me no matter what I did and when she was mad at me would say I didn't know anything about being a woman. I equate it to applying for a job you have no experience in and the company won't hire you because you have no experience but won't allow you to gain any. I was learning the hard way, she would not help me to go behind the gender curtain to women only spaces. It would take me years to earn the respect or right of other women to play in their sandbox. Even if I was getting sand thrown in my face. 

It was obvious at the time, I was experiencing gender black- mail from many women also. I was too much of a woman to be accepted by men anymore and still too much of a man to be accepted by many women. Eventually, I solved the problem by keeping pushing forward towards my feminine dreams. It was very difficult to stay laser focused on my goal when I was still trying to maintain a life in both of the binary genders. So before I totally destroyed myself, one had to go. At the time, I compared where I was at to standing at the precipice of a very steep cliff and fearfully looking over the side. When I could not take it any longer, I took a long time to consider my gender options and came to one conclusion. I had always been living a lie as a man and no matter how much black-mail I had to put up with, I knew which path to take and I jumped. 

The path took me to gender affirming hormones and I never looked back. I knew I had made the right choice when I felt so natural and satisfied with my life. It turned out the only real black-mailer in my life was myself.

 

Tears of Joy

Image by Anthony Tran'
on UnSplash.

Until I began gender affirming hormones  in my life I never cried as a man. 

Even more foreign to me was the concept I could actually cry three different ways. Of course I cried out of sadness but did not expect the tears I shed when I was emotional and even more so, the most unexpected tears I shed when I was happy. 

It took the layers of change  which began with the HRT femininizing hormones I was taking to enable me to, for the first time cry at all. It happened as I waited for a light summer time thunderstorm to roll in as I sat and waited on my side porch. When I sensed the first soft rolls of thunder, very unexpectedly I began to cry. At first, I tried to hold my emotions in as I was taught to do as a man. Then I realized I did not have to follow those old gender restrictive footsteps any longer and let the tears flow. Even though I did not cry for long, it seemed I cried forever to makeup for all the years of gender repression I had put myself through. 

Little did I know, my experience with tears was just beginning. The more the hormonal changes increased, the less control I had over my emotions. The total range of new feelings I was experiencing was amazing and I found crying out of joy was the most amazing experience I could have. I was even crying when my favorite athletes excelled on television. And had to put up with the good natured barbs of my wife Liz, who seemingly knew I was crying tears of joy before I did. Of course, she had such a long head start on me in the feminine hormone department being born female, she knew what was coming. The standing joke in our house is when did I change my Estradiol patches when I begin to cry.

How different my life would have been if I could have shown any emotions when I was a man. I was even stoic and tear free when my parents passed away. When my wife passed so suddenly, I did not have the chance to grieve or shed a tear with her either and the only time I have cried is recently when she came to me in a dream.

Through it all, the HRT hormones along with being able to express my emotions just re-enforced my opinion women lead a much more layered experience than men. Being able to cry over sadness, joy or even anger led me to believe I was on the right track in life as I sought out the way to living as my authentic transgender self. I sought out the way to be more of a woman and I found it in so many ways. Then again, I was fortunate in that I was healthy enough to be approved to begin the hormonal therapy at all when others aren't. 

Shedding tears of joy was just a portion of the emotional release I felt when I transitioned. Outside of other changes such as resetting my body's thermostat and refining my sense of smell, most of the other dramatic changes were external in nature. 

Sadly, I had no one to talk about many of my changes with as my women friends were fond of telling me welcome to their world when I brought up my feelings and I was discouraged about talking at all of my previous life.  It was not till my wife Liz came along did I finally feel secure enough to express my total feelings. It was still difficult shedding all those years of male life to finally allow me to share my true transgender self to the world. Tears and all.