What Would Mom Say

Image from Jenna Norman
on UnSplash

This week my question to answer on the year long bio I am writing for my daughter and family as well as my wife Liz involved what parent I learned the most from.  

As I compared my Mom and Dad, easily I learned the most from Mom. Outside of the usual circumstances, I found I could find many more opportunities to spotlight Mom's influence on me. For example, I remember at a very early age watching Mom put on her makeup. Being a product of the "greatest generation" she was not shy about dressing up. However, I don't think watching makeup being applied led me to being a transvestite or even a transgender woman really mattered. Somehow the gender issues I faced went much deeper. Perhaps as deep as the medication Mom took during her pregnancy (DES) which was offered to women at the time to prevent problem births.

It turned out, I was successfully delivered just before my parents had decided to give up after three still births and adopt a child. I think because of all of that, my Mom put an extra emphasis on raising me and my brother who came along two years later. So much so, I wonder now what would have happened if Mom would have realized she had a daughter rather than a son. In all fairness to her, the fifties during my youth had very little information on gender issues. When it was available, gender issues were known as mental illness. 

Throughout the years, I always mistakenly thought girls had all the benefits in life I always wanted. Girls were able to wear the pretty clothes I wanted, be gifted the dolls I wanted and even never had to worry about being drafted and serving in the military. Male privileges were not known to me in those days because I had not yet earned any. As a side note, once I did earn the benefits of being male, I learned some of them were automatic and I did not want them anyhow.

I have forever wondered what my life would have been with Mom had I been born a biological female. Being as similar personality wise as we were, we fought quite a bit as mother/pseudo son and I have to think it would have been worse as a daughter. Mom was very headstrong and I am sure we would have had battles over fashion styles in the 1960's as well as when I could begin using makeup. In fact, when I was sneaking around using her makeup, I was probably younger than I would have been had I been her actual daughter.  I am sure too, Mom would have tried to influence me into going to her college and joining her sorority. She would have done her best to push me down a certain path which was certainly going against my generation's rules at that time in history during the upheaval in the later 1960's.

By this time, you may be asking where was Dad during all of this. It was not like he was not an influence in my life but he was not as hands on as Mom was. He was long on providing and short on emotions which I struggled with for most of my life. One thing I remember most about him was how desperate I was to never disappoint him and since I rarely if ever heard a positive from him, I never knew what he really thought of my life. He was blessed with excellent health and outlived my Mom by ten years and I never came out to him before his death from Dementia.

I did try to come out to Mom but it was a dismal failure for both of us. Predictably, when I told her I wanted to be a woman, she offered up mental health counseling. The conversation took place just after I was finished with my military duty and was never mentioned again until her death fifty years later. I used to hold her thoughts against her and was quite bitter but I gradually mellowed with age and came to realize she was just a product of her generation. 

To honor all her sacrifices, I used her first name as my middle name when I legally changed my gender markers nearly ten years ago. Had I had the opportunity to be accepted as her daughter from the beginning, it would have been interesting how our lives would have intersected. Way past the pushback I would have received for wearing my skirts too short and wearing too much makeup when I was a teenager. I know what Mom would have said. You aren't leaving the house looking like that. Maybe I should have thought of that when I tried and failed to dress that way later in life.  

 

Feeling the Pain

 

Image from Eugenia 
Maximova 
on UnSplash.

Learning on the fly all I needed to know concerning my authentic life as a transgender woman often resulted in pain.

The pain, early on mainly materialized when I rushed the process of going out in public as a novice transgender woman or cross dresser. Many times I was reduced to tears following being stared at or even laughed at when I was simply out walking around. I felt the pain for years until I finally realized I was the problem and sought out the reasons why. The main reason was (as I always mention) my male ego was dictating my femininized fashion sense. He was thinking attempting to dress sexy would somehow validate myself as a woman. Of course, it didn't and just made me look ridiculous. On the other hand, when I dressed to blend in with other women, they validated me as a woman.

My frustration and pain increased until I became fed up with the entire process and changed it. My thrift shopping adventures began to change to reflect my new fashion sense. I was held back in many ways by my budget and knowledge of what fashion I was trying to buy. Sizing was an example, as I struggled to find what looked best on my testosterone poisoned body. I did not have the benefit of having any feminine characteristics to begin my journey so trial and lots of error is what I went through. Every time I learned a fashion choice I made  just would not work, I felt the pain return again.

My situation improved when my overall confidence improved to a point where I was able to use the women's changing rooms. When I could afford to go to a mall clothing store, I always checked with a clerk first to see if I was to be accepted so as not to feel the sting and embarrassment later. In the thrift stores I went to, the changing  rooms were not monitored anyhow, so I never had to ask. As I said, when I had the opportunity to try on clothes ahead of time, my improvement rate went way up and my fashion pain way down.

After conquering most of my fashion pain, next up came my paranoia over communicating as a transgender woman in the world. Of course I quickly discovered I had no idea of how women communicate between themselves. I found myself on several different levels when I dealt with the world. Once I figured out I was not "fooling" anyone else and just resorted to being myself, my life improved. One level of woman just did not care and basically ignored me while another level was curious and wondered what I was doing in their world. Overall, I was learning on the fly and had my share of pain such as the one transphobic woman I encountered at a party Liz and I attended many years ago. She was actively harassing me about what my dead name was. She was so evil, the experience still causes me pain to this day.

Overall though, when I compare my transgender journey to others I read about, I suppose I have had it lucky. Even though I had suffered a lifetime's worth of pain when I lost my wife, several close friends and my business in a span of five years, I was able to find new friends and rebound. Mainly because the friends and Liz accepted me as my authentic feminine self. I guess karma was paying me back for a lifetime of wondering what I was doing about my transgender self. All the years of doubting my gender existence came back to be a strength when I quit being a victim in my own life. 

Sure I was transgender but suddenly it became a strength not a weakness and the pain was behind me. 

     

A Spectator in my Own Life

 

Image from Author JJ Hart

There were many times in my life when I felt as if I was a spectator in my own life.

From the first glimpse in a mirror when I cross dressed as a girl, all the way to when I first went out determined to be a woman rather than just look like one, often I was on the outside looking in. Being on the outside was certainly not a great place to be. I literally spent decades of my life worrying about where I actually stood with my gender issues.

Along the way, I grew tired of being the spectator and wanted more inside information on how the feminine system I so admired worked. I discovered the hard way, I was not going to be allowed to learn more until I made the drastic step of increasing my transitioning efforts. Naturally, it was very difficult to do when I was totally immersed in leading a male life which I had become quite successful at doing. Overall, I was becoming the victim when it came to my life as a whole. I kept wondering why me when it came to my desire to live as a transgender woman. I finally had to shake it off and move forward with my gender transition before I lost everything I knew in life. 

It turns out the real culprit was myself.  I was afraid to face my truth and it cost me. I even tried to out run my desire to live as a woman by moving and switching jobs. Once I talked my wife into moving from our native Ohio to the New York City metro area. Then back again a couple years later. Living in different parts of the country was certainly an eye opening experience but did very little to help my gender issues. On the rare occasions it did like the night on Long Island when I went to a transvestite mixer and the hosts thought I was a cis-woman was flattering but did me no good the next morning when I crashed back into my male life. Then my poor wife had to put up with my mood swings.

Still I was a spectator in my own life when I walked down the long hallway in heels to get carded for my true gender to the times I did the family grocery shopping in sweaters, mini skirts and flats, I wondered who was that? It took me years to come to the conclusion the other feminine person was me and she had a right to be here in my life. Slowly but surely, I was building the life experiences needed to cross the gender border but it kept taking me so much time. I kept running into so many road blocks, I thought I was some sort of a gender construction engineer. 

Regardless as time flew by, it was time to put my gender cards on the table to finally determine which gender was going to be the primary provider in my life. What I attempted to do was live as much as I could as a novice transgender woman to see if the lifestyle was for me. Even though initially I did not attempt to do it, the trans life rapidly snuck up on me. Before I knew it and maybe before I was ready, I began to carve out a brand new life as a woman. Quickly I needed to develop feminine communication skills which was difficult for me to do since I was overwhelmingly dealing with other women in my life.

Through it all, slowly I grabbed total control of my life and became a spectator any time I was forced back into my old unwanted male life. In other words, I finally faced my own truth and flipped the ultimate gender script in my life.