Broken

 

Ohio River image from the
Archives of Jessie Hart.

I am selfish, I want all the time back when I felt I was broken somehow because of my gender issues or dysphoria. 

The way I look at it, I lost years when I stressed over what gender I wanted to be in my day to day life. If I just had a portion of it back how much more I could have accomplished. 

I guess the problem would have been, if I had followed my truth, how many barriers outside of my control would have been placed in my way to stop my progress. For example, I can not imagine any scenario where my parents would have accepted me switching over from my boy self to live as a girl. The best case would have been endless, fruitless trips to a therapist who knew little to nothing about gender issues and back in those days, I would have been labeled with some sort of a mental illness.

If I had gone the route of trying to live as my authentic feminine self at an early age, I would have been broken to start with and have had no chance to change it. So, I needed to develop ways to cope with my broken situation. Early on, I resorted to wearing what I could of my Mom's clothes and buying my own makeup to experiment with. It was a fairly easy fix to get me by until I could risk my life by trying to cross dress again. If I was caught, I knew all hell would break loose in my family. Somehow, I hid my emotions and desires and got by.

As the years flew by, I became used to feeling broken and so alone in my gender issues. I had only one friend who seemed to feel the same way and he ended up moving several states away before I could find out if he shared my desire to be feminine. I ended up with another dead end and feeling broken again.

Fortunately, all this negativity has a good ending. I finally learned I was not broken at all. Society was and all I had to do was learn to exist in my own little transgender world. Not to say, the whole process did not take a tremendous amount of work but it all turned out to be a singular gender effort which was so worth it. Plus, I needed to remove the chip from my shoulder I felt from worrying about all the time I had wasted in my life before I made the all out effort to femininize myself and live my truth. Time is nothing you can ever get back, so I hoped I could learn from my losses. 

I had so much help along the way when I became older and more secure in my gender. Hopefully they all realized I was not trying to live a lie and just was trying to get by and it was the reason we all could become friends. During our lives, we meet so many people who are just passing through and a few leave lasting impressions, I was just lucky I met positive ones. People who showed me I was not broken and never had been.

Transgender Guilt

Image from Civil War Cemetery
Cincinnati, Ohio.

 For many years I felt guilty about having my gender issues.

After all, I felt so alone in my desire to leave my male self behind and live in a feminine world. Not only was I alone, I even was scorned when I tried to express my desires. As I grew through the stages of being a weekend cross dresser into a novice transgender woman, I waited for the guilt to go away or at the least diminish. It never did. In fact, my guilt increased. 

Factors arose such as what would I tell my daughter and my wife, all the way to how I would manage to support myself and my family when it seemed I could lose everything if I transitioned. Selling my life out to be a woman seemed at times to be such a selfish idea and I felt guilty. So much guilt, it stressed me out so badly it wrecked my already fragile mental health. I would not have wished my gender problems on my worst enemy and even a bigger problem I had was there were few people I could even talk to about it. 

Sure, I had a therapist, but even then I felt guilty of sacrificing my masculinity and talking about my inner feelings. I had a gender storm inside me I could not get out and I was stuck between a cruel rock and a hard place. The reason was I was trying to live in both of the main binary gender worlds. For three days, I was learning if I could exist in a feminine world and in the next three days I had to go back to my boring male world. On the extra day, sometimes I lived in both genders, at least in my head. Of course doing all of this did nothing to relieve the guilt I felt on how I was living my life.

The more I lived my life between the genders, the more I could see what was coming. I was lying to myself when I tried to tell myself my inner woman was winning the contest for my soul. When I was spending my three days experiencing life as a trans woman, I felt more alive and excited about my future than even before. At the same time, I still felt the doubt creeping in about if I could make it at all. Perhaps freedom from guilt was on the horizon if I could just make it. So, I kept trying different things to enhance my future.

As I always point out, my male self pulled out all the stops and threw in guilt as one of the main weapons to keep the status quo he always fought for. As he fought, he made sure he brought up all of the fond memories of the time we spent together. 

Finally, his efforts proved to be to no avail as I started to put together a new life as a transgender woman. It turned out he could not compete with my truth, I had always been destined to be feminine. It was an unfair fight, guilt or no guilt. I could take the battle no longer and gave in before the stress literally killed me. I will forever remember the night when I gave in to my feminine side and decided to research if I was healthy enough at the age of sixty to undergo gender affirming hormone therapy. Which would signal a point to me which I could never to back to life as a man. 

From that point forward, I was able to give the remainder of my male clothes away along with the guilt they carried with them. I moved forward to legally changing my name and all the identification documents which could be be legally done in my state and with the Veteran's Administration. I was doing my best to put all the transgender guilt as far as I could into my rear view mirror. 

Doing it With Mirrors

Image from Paulious
Dragiunous on 
UnSplash.

For a time, I thought my entire female life revolved around my interaction with mirrors. 

In many ways, it did as I could not wait until I could slip away from my family and spend time cross dressed as a girl in front of the mirror. I even had a special mirror I was very fond of. It seemed my Dad was thinking of me when he designed the house he built for us to live in. He laid out the house with a long hallway connecting the bedrooms and a bath and finished it off with a full length mirror. The mirror and the distance it provided gave me precious space to admire myself in the mirror as my femininized self.

The only problems I experienced were I had no feedback from the mirror and would not until I experienced the world as my novice feminine self. So, good or bad, I could convince myself I looked great when in fact I had so much work to do to achieve my goal of passing well in public. Even though I was still barely getting by in the public, I still relied on mirrors to get me by and reassure my mind I belonged. What I did was look for the nearest mirror in clothing stores to see how I looked. It turned to be a singular approach to presenting well with the world. 

There were times when I took my mirror worship to the extreme in stores, one in particular comes to mind. There was a coat discount store I was fond of going to since they had coats which came in my larger size. During my shopping trips I fell in love with a pale blue, wool mix, long coat which I thought looked great with my long blond hair. I so loved admiring myself in the store mirror so much, I thought someone would come up and tell me to buy it or leave. While it never happened, sadly, there was no way I could afford it and end up smuggling it into the house away from my wife. So I needed to leave my dream coat behind. 

It took me years to quit doing it with mirrors and begin to live my truth. It was still a struggle to leave my best friend behind. I had subconsciously trained myself to look for the nearest mirror to fall back on to to reassure myself I was an attractive transgender woman. It was a real struggle to rely on myself for a change without the mirror. All of a sudden, the public became my mirror and it was very difficult to adjust to because not all interactions were positive. I needed the confidence to look a transphobic individual in the eye and win the moment. At the least, the transphobe would have to walk away from the interaction thinking they had actually met a transgender woman and we were not so bad. 

The process of interacting with the public over time became automatic and my only interaction with the mirror became my morning check in or when I am applying makeup for a trip out. Ironically, now the mirror is not always my friend anymore. Now I still have to battle what is left of my gender dysphoria when I look in the mirror. Sometimes I see my old male self peeking through which I hate but others times I see a much more pleasant femininized version of my old self. When my old male self weighs in too heavily on me, now I have developed the coping skills to get by and put him back into his place.

Never, in my wildest dreams, did I think mirrors would play such an important part of my life. From the earliest days of cross dressing to my current days of dealing with gender dysphoria, mirrors have allowed me to survive.