Building a Dream

Image from Moreno Matkovic
on UnSplash

 Similar to many of you ,my journey to building a dream took me many years.

As I am fond of saying, over a half a century of construction. A long time when you think about it. At first the steps were obscure and very shadowy as I snuck behind my family's attention to cross dress in front of the mirror. I did not know much about what I was doing, or the tools to do it so I looked as if I was clownish, most of the time. As luck would have it, the mirror often lied to me and gender euphoria set in, before I even knew what it was and what it meant. All I really knew was how at night when I slept, I dreamed of being a girl and was sad when I woke up and needed to face the same old male world.   When I was able to escape into my feminine world, I felt so natural and exhilarated, I just couldn't stand to go back.

The years flew by and I was able to learn more and more about the femininization process I was facing. At the same time, small glimpses of what if slipped into my mind. Or, what if, someday I could make living as a woman trans or not part of my reality. As I did, the reality of building a transgender dream became increasingly difficult. Partially because, at the same time, my male life was becoming increasingly successful and it became  harder and harder to give up what I had built. Still I moved ahead as the feminine forces within me were so powerful.

Since it is coming close to the Halloween season around here, I would be remiss if I did not mention how going to Halloween parties dressed as a woman did not help me build my dream of perhaps being a full time woman some day. Back in those days, the term transgender was still in it's infancy and I did not know how it fit me. All I knew was, I worried and stressed for months ahead of Halloween about what my "costume" would be. Predictably my outfits started out slutty and evolved into going to parties dressed as business professional to see how many people would notice I was a guy at all. Overall, I had several meaningful experiences at Halloween which provided quality building blocks I could use when I seriously began to enter the world as my authentic self. As promised, I will write more about them as Halloween comes closer.

In the meantime, I was having more and more opportunities to learn I was so much more than a man who wanted to look like a woman. I even received a  comment from "Paula" across the pond in the UK concerning a blog post I wrote on the subject:

"I often think that the moment of realization that you are a trans woman rather than a cross dressing man is the Biggy! After I accepted who I am everything else that followed was just a natural consequence of that initial revelation. After I had accepted that I was in fact a woman it was perfectly logical that I would want the world to experience me as such, so I went full time. As I wanted to experience the fullness (as much as possible) of life as a woman it was perfectly natural to get medical help, leading first to hormones and then surgery. All of those decisions were the natural consequences of that first understanding that this is who I am not something I do."

Thanks to Paula and all of who comment! I could not have put it better. 

As it was, I kept on building until I formed a solid foundation to finally achieve my dream. It was never easy but on the other hand, building something worthwhile never is.  All the lonely nights I spent going out just to be alone come to mind as well as the occasions I was shunned or even laughed at. At that point my dream seemed to be so far away. Deep down I knew I was doing the right thing and kept on building. It turned out happiness was just a build away. 

When Every Night is Girls Night

Grae Phillips is still active
on Facebook if you want to 
see more. Or just keep up. 

I know I make a big deal out of my second huge transition, when I mentally moved from being a serious part-time cross dresser into being a novice transgender woman.

Sometimes I feel as if I am putting myself on some sort of a gender pedestal when I write about not considering myself a cross dresser anymore. If it comes off that way, I don't mean it to. On occasion, the written word gets in my way. Getting back to the cross dresser versus transgender statement I made, I think in my case, it was a matter of me judging my own life. Originally, as I was working my way through my early years of admiring my girl self in the mirror, I knew it could never be enough. There had to be more. I was so tired of cross dressing for one day and then two or three days later wanting to do it again. 

As I always mention, all of this occurred back in the pre-internet information era when any news and contact with like minded gender individuals, be they transvestites or transsexuals, was very difficult and rare to come by. This was even before the barrage of talk shows led by the late Phil Donohue who interviewed female impersonators such as "Grae Phillips", all the way to transvestites seeking approval from a doubting world. It was quite a bit for me to sort out. But I did. I knew I could never be as beautiful and talented as Grae but I could reach the standards of most of the transvestites I saw on my television. There was hope for my future after all.

As I progressed into meeting more and more diverse cross dressers or the women known as the new transgender group I began to think what it would mean if I went all the way and every night became girls night. In other words, a time when I would never have to go back to my old male self and live. Deep down I knew there would have to be some sort of line drawn in the sand if I did. As much as I loved all the fun of the newness of applying makeup and picking out clothes, I wondered what would happen when the newness wore off and I needed to settle into the daily routine of the transgender womanhood.

It turned out, I had nothing to worry about. I settled into my new feminine routine as if I had always should have been living this way. I found I didn't have to do much special on many days such as most cis-women do and then again still have the fun of dressing up for special occasions. It was true, once I jumped the gender border from cross dresser to transgender, I could experience what life could be like if every night was girls night.  

The Prom Gown

Image from Joeyy Lee
on UnSplash

Years ago, I received a prophetic statement from an unknowing doctor when our family was on vacation in Canada. 

When we were not out fishing with Dad, we played football on a hard-packed lot behind the fishing camp with a bunch of local kids. Being the budding football star I never was, I decided to try to play running back and was actually successful bulling my way through the opposing boys on the other team, for awhile. On a play I would learn to regret, I was picked up and thrown down on my shoulder and suffered a broken collar bone.

I say regret primarily because my Dad was not amused about having to interrupt his vacation to take me to a hospital for treatment. At the hospital, I had X-rays taken and was diagnosed with a broken collar bone. I was seen by a doctor and had my shoulder bandaged up in a sling and was told it would heal on it's own. Leaving only a tell tale bump which showed it had ever happened. Then the doctor said, since I would not be wearing any prom gowns in my future, it would not matter anyway.

I thought at the time, wait a minute! What if I wanted to wear one of the beautiful gowns I had seen on women in my future. What then. I think that comment hurt worse than the actual breaking of the bone. Plus, when I did go to proms and was stuck in an ugly tuxedo, I always looked at the girls around me for any tell-tale bumps to show a collar bone break. I never did see any. 

Along the way, I had several other instances of my feminine aura shining through. I have/had a nephew who from an early age developed a very unsavory attitude towards life which sometimes carried over to me. It started with my politics clashing with his right wing bigotry and going from there. On several occasions, he secretly complimented me by saying I threw a football like a girl. He even said one time when I bought my new Porsche Boxster, I had bought a girls car. Like I said, he was trying to hurt me but was secretly making me feel good. I could not wait to be the attractive blond woman in a sharp sports car.

There were other times when I was called feminine when I was doing my best to be a macho man. Several times at work, I was called "Ma'am" out of the clear blue sky in the middle of a normal conversation with a customer. Looking back, I think it was my feminine aura slipping through my male fence. 

Even though it took me years to realize my dream of living as a transgender woman was much more than living as a part-time cross dresser, I realized there were several tell-tale signs along the way. Maybe the doctor was trying to tell me someday I would want to actually wear a beautiful prom dress which showed off my collar bone break bump. Or my evil nephew would go on to having his own insecurities to deal with. I have not seen him for over a decade, so I don't know or care. He would probably just say he was right about calling me a girl. 

It turned out there were many people who saw through my disguise and at the least knew I wasn't who I was desperately trying to be. A stable, non toxic, productive man. I failed miserably and all I ever wanted was to be the one wearing the beautiful prom gown.   

Calling me a woman was the ultimate compliment.