It is Fall and Time for Halloween

 

I have heard Halloween is the national holiday for cross dressers everywhere.

I know it was for me as I could not wait for the trees to change colors and the temperatures to dip so I could plan my "costume" for the season. I was fortunate when I began to learn so many feminine basics thanks to my Halloween experiences. Such as, the first night I went out with friends to a late night showing of a silent movie in a beautiful restored theater in Columbus, Ohio. The primary lesson I learned was to either get a close parking spot or wear comfortable footwear as my heels began to bother me very shortly into the evening. Regardless, I had a great time in my short mini dress and I was disappointed when I did not see anyone else cross dressed (that I know of) and the night went by so quickly. My friends we went with did not even mention my shaved legs. I remember thinking it was going to be a very long year before I again could challenge the world as my feminine self.

Back then, my self was very under developed. The mirror still had a hold of me and I really had very little knowledge of where I truly wanted to go as I researched the gender world. Would the mirror be my home or could I succeed as a novice transgender woman. In it's own very important way, Halloween helped to point me in the right direction. The first parties I went to, I simply tried to dress sexy as my "costume" and took the easy way out. I was seeking validation as a woman  essentially by doing a form of drag, which never worked for me. For the most part, I was left alone by other men and women. It took me several parties to understand what I was doing wrong. 

From there on out, I started to attempt to tone down my "costume." For example, one year early on in my transition I wore all black. Starting with black flats, black tights and sweater. I paired it all with my short black skirt, long blond wig and topped it off with a black beret hat. I tried it all out at one of the big dance clubs Halloween party in town and was enjoying myself immensely until a person in a mask came up to me and said I know who you are. Initially I was a mixture of being scared and devastated some one could see through my "costume" so easily I did manage to laugh and say who was I and the person said I looked just like my Mom. Then I realized who he was and he went on his way. It turned out I grew up near him in the rural neighborhood where I lived. Even with all of that I had a great time and was saddened that Halloween only came around once a year.

It turned out there were many other lessons to learn from the cross dressers national holiday as I was going to find out. One of the biggest ones was when I realized how rare it was to find another possible "non civilian cross dresser" in their own "costume." Again, I was feeling alone in the world. Another one was there was no way I could wait another year to venture out into the world as my authentic femininized self. At the same time of my Halloween adventures, the internet became a part of my life and I was able to research terms such as transgender to see if they fit me. I found there was so much more to learn. 

There were more Halloween parties where I continued to learn from too. I haven't forgotten my pledge to share them also since for the most part, they had such a profound effect on my life as a novice transgender woman. 

Hitting the Transgender Wall

 

Image from Selin 
on UnSplash

There were so many times during my journey to finding my authentic self that I hit a wall or two or more. 

The easy walls came when I was younger and was trying to find makeup and wardrobe items to admire myself in the mirror. During that time and into the future, finances were a major set back. As much as I admired the pretty clothes the girls around me were wearing, I just did not have the money to afford any of them. There was no way I could go to my parents and ask for a pretty dress for my birthday or Christmas. Plus, I was stuck at a major point of my overall femininized image when it came to my hair. In those days, I was stuck with very short hair cuts such as burr or crew cuts and there was no way I could afford a wig. A major wall, to be sure as I think having the first wig I cherished did not come around until my college years in the late 1960's till the early 1970's when my military days took over. Of course I was against the wall again when my hair needed to be kept very short.

After I had served my time in the Army, I was able to secure the finances to afford a more update feminine wardrobe and my walls began to take on a more mental aspect with me. The more I was able to sneak out of the house and into the public, the more I knew I had little or no knowledge of where I wanted to go as a novice transgender woman. It seemed everything was being thrown at me at once and my mental health crumbled after I was hitting many walls at once. My male life was becoming more and more demanding as I became successful at my job and I discovered the more I explored the female world, the more I liked it. 

Even so, climbing the feminine walls were difficult. It seemed everytime I mastered one aspect of being a transgender woman such as walking, I would catch my heel in the crack of a sidewalk and ruin my whole day. As I continued along my bumpy gender path, I found mishaps with walking in heels were indeed minor in the scope of my transgender life. On the horizon loomed much more serious walls such as communication with the public and with women in particular. Overwhelmingly, men ignored me and women were curious about what I was doing in their world, I discovered quite quickly I was interacting with more women than I had ever done as a guy which was scary in many ways, including what would I say and how would I say it. 

I wondered what had I done when I was forced to actually talk the talk of the person I had become. I resorted to what had worked for me in the past as I had encountered tough trans walls to climb. I basically tried to shut my mouth and observe what was going around me. It worked to an extent until people (women) began to warm up to the new person I had become. I even was giving other women advice on how to understand their boyfriends or spouses. 

Anyway you cut it, I guess for me, gender affirming hormones created the last major wall for me to climb. At the time, I was doing my best to appear as a woman and communicate as one to the world. Beginning the hormones in many ways was a selfish move because I did it for myself. When I did, instead of more walls crashing down, they melted. HRT, when I was approved for it was a magic potent stimulant my body had been craving for years. Very quickly, I knew I had made the right move as I was able to tear the final walls down and make my way into fulltime transgender womanhood. 

Surely, I was bruised and battered by hitting all the transgender walls I needed to scale to live the life I wanted but I made it. When I look back on all the terrifying yet exciting steps I took to get to where I am mow, I wonder how I made it. First there was my appearance and battling testosterone poisoning then overcoming the problems of male behavior which also effected my life that all made for a rough journey. Surely there were too many walls to count.   

Happlily Ever After?

 

Image from Dave 
Goudreau on
UnSplash. 

When it comes to transgender women and trans men, is there ever a happy ending?

As we examine our lives , again and again, we inevitably encounter many pains as we make the transition from one gender to another. Most of us (including me) go through a period of time when we consider ourselves to be cross dressers or transvestites. We were in our own state of limbo, not knowing where we were going. I am amazed when anyone in the outside world thinks our life was so much easier and we were wearing the clothes of the opposite sex as some sort of a lark.

The fact remains, amidst the brief moments of gender euphoria in front of the mirror, we never actually had a choice when it came to our gender issues. In the case of many people such as me, my journey was very lonely and singular and I wondered if I could ever live happily ever after as a transgender woman. It seemed like the impossible dream and if I could ever arrive there, perhaps I could finally become happy. But happiness for me had always been fleeting. Probably because I had never seen much of happy in my family growing up. We were taught anything we did was never good enough. It carried over into my life as a novice transgender woman. 

No matter how attractive I thought I was, there always had to be more. I needed to be better as a trans woman. It turned out I did need to be better to survive in a new feminine world but getting there was a challenge when I went too far, too fast in the wrong direction. Primarily when I went over board in how I was dressing myself way too slutty and attracting the wrong attention to myself. It wasn't the type of validation I was seeking. It took me awhile to realize I could not make it to any semblance of happiness on the path I was on. 

I learned I never would have a chance to be happy in transgender womanhood, unless I began to change my ways and began to dress to blend in with the world. Once I did, I learned I had a whole new set of challenges I needed to face to be happy. Similar to many of you, I faced spousal issues as well as job, family and friends. I always considered changing my gender was a difficult task to take but I never knew all the nuances of making the change I would have to take. Being a woman, trans or not, was a very layered process and I would ever be happy if and when I ever arrived at my goal of living fulltime as my authentic self. 

Then there were the gender affirming hormones I decided to pursue. Before I could begin the meds, I needed permission from a doctor and a therapist to begin. Adding to the importance of the move but once I started the hormones, I knew I was in the right place and I would not turn back to my old unwanted male life.

Even with the HRT, happiness was still fleeting as I faced a wonderful new world. Most likely because there were still instances of public setbacks I still had to negotiate, which included times when my mind was playing gender tricks on me. I was still influenced by sixty years of living a male life and being conditioned to never be happy.

Now, at the age o seventy five, I know I certainly have fewer years ahead than behind me. Now I have to make a concerted effort to be happy. If I don't, it will be too late.