Picking your Poison

 

Dinner with my wife Liz
on left. JJ Hart on right.

Before we get started on this post, let me repeat again and again a transgender woman's or trans man's path to living an authentic life is NOT a choice.

Somehow for reasons we are never aware of, we are born into it. At that point we are forced to pick our gender poison when we decide to follow our instincts and transition or decide to stay in our closets for whatever reason. 

Most of the reasons on either side are compelling and not wrong. Reasons include major implications include facing problems with employment, family and friends. When faced with any or all of these challenges make a closet a more comfortable place to be. Or is it? Do the problems ever go away? The answer of course is no and picking your poison becomes a bigger problem. In my case, I became increasingly caught between my own personal gender rock and the hard place. 

On one hand, I appreciated the unwanted but over appreciated male privileges I had earned the hard way. But, on the other hand, I increasingly felt natural and excited by the new feminine spirit I was feeling. The main problem I had was knowing deep down I could never go back to my male life but could not face my own truth and the process then began my poison. The longer I progressed on my gender path, the stronger my poison became and the only anti-venom I knew was to keep exploring the world as a transgender woman. I became so engrossed in my search on occasion I forgot my old male self altogether. In a short period of time I was facing cruel and unusual punishment. Mainly because I needed to internalize all my poison and the process was lonely and unfruitful. What about key questions such as my sexuality? What would my future life look like. 

All too soon, I knew my poison was also my strength. I just knew I had to stay on the path I was on to finally achieve my gender freedom. I was fortunate, I escaped my closet and was able to achieve my ultimate goal of earning my transgender womanhood. The entire process was not without stress and failure along the way. It was like I was living the ultimate trans woman's days out. I needed better times in my life just to survive in the world. Often I just was confused in how I was going to spit out my poison and achieve my dreams. As I said, I was on a lonely path and needed any light I could focus on to help find my way along. It was like I was carrying the darkness of my closet with me. 

As I was planning to go away and throw (or donate) my male clothes out, I needed to make sure I was picking the right poison when I found a trans woman's life was not all sweetness and light. Entering a woman's world meant I needed to be better than the average other woman just to survive. On the other hand, I found all the life I had lived on both sides of the binary gender border gave me more experience in the world as a whole which helped me to survive. 

In my world picking my poison and being able to escape my dark closet was the only way to go. Being a guy was always difficult for me and learning how to live as my authentic self was even more difficult but was so much more natural and enjoyable. 

Reaching Out for Truth

 

Image from Jen Theodore
on UnSplash.

As I transitioned into my form of transgender womanhood, first I needed to find my own truth. In order to do it, I was placed in a dilemma. 

The dilemma was I needed to make sure my gender journey was taking me in the right direction. I needed to make a huge life changing decision so I needed time and experience to make certain I was taking my life in the right direction since essentially I was risking everything to do it. In other words I needed confidence. 

Gaining confidence proved to be a fragile thing to find. I would have it following a successful day out away from the mirror as a novice transgender woman when I seemed to do everything right. My makeup, wardrobe and wig were on point and I even carried myself fairly well. I was building the life I always had dreamed of and seemed to be within reach until the next time I went out and everything crashed and burned. Either I did something very unrealistic and was laughed at or my overall appearance just wasn't right. Whatever the problem was, my fragile confidence was shattered. And, as we all know, confidence is our most powerful accessory. Humans are similar to sharks, if they perceive something is wrong with you, chances are the other human could act on it. A big turning point for me was when I arrived at the point where I did not care what anyone else thought of me. 

Actually, let me re-phrase that. I did not care what men thought of me because for the most part they had all felt as if I was from another planet anyway and wanted nothing to do with me. On the other hand, I did care what other women thought about me. Since I needed other women's acceptance to exist in the same world they were in, I needed their approval. In order to survive, I needed to be honest to myself which in turn, made me honest to them. I was not hiding anything. I was upfront on what I was trying to achieve which was to give up my old life as a man. Very quickly I learned I appealed to more women as a friend than I ever had as a man. I thoroughly enjoyed my learning curve as a transgender woman and wanted to build on my truth even more.

Even still, on occasion, I was still having issues with living my truth. My biggest hurdle to conquer was myself. I was the last to know my truth because I hid it all so well. To my everlasting shame, I even lied excessively to my second wife about what I was really doing while she was working at night. So, by osmosis, I was lying to the two closest people to me. Something I am certainly not proud of. However, I am proud of the fact I did reach out and grasped my truth during my long life. 

It took me long enough to do it. I struggled for over fifty years as a cross dresser and went through so many stages of attempting to figure out who I really was. I was so much more than a man who liked to wear women's clothes, I wanted to be a transwoman wearing women's clothes. Once I learned this major truth about my life, finally everything came into focus. 

Into One Club and Out of Another

 

In the Women's Club. I am on the bottom row
to the left.

As I transitioned into transgender womanhood, I learned how quickly I could be pushed out of one gender club and make my way into another.

The first club I was quickly rejected from was the good old boys club which I was tired of anyhow. I quickly found many of the gender stereotypes were true. My primary example was and is when I am in a conversation with a man, I seemingly have lost a good portion of my intelligence. In many ways, I was expecting it because of the way I had seen many men around me in my life treat women. I wanted a change in the worst way.

Of course leaving one club and being accepted into another was not going to be the easiest thing I had ever done. As I set my course into the world of women, initially I was met with little resistance except for two key people in my life. Along with my second wife who hated the idea, of course my male self was dead against it also. He was the one who was getting kicked out of the club.

One of the first aspects of being accepted into the woman's club I learned was to look for the hidden knife behind the back trick. All of a sudden I was in the world of passive resistance. Some women did not like the way I looked or acted all the way to resented my presence in the club all together. Rather than tell me to my face, they worked behind my back to drive me away. I came away from the learning experience with many claw marks on my back. I considered it all as a initiation experience into a new exciting world where all I wanted to do was play in the girl's sandbox. What I never counted on was how complex the new world would be. I knew women were much more complex than men but slipping behind the gender curtain and living my dream proved it.

I fought hard to keep my dream from becoming a nightmare. First there was the problem with learning how to dress myself so I could stand a chance of blending in with the other women in the world. Then there was the problem with learning how to go with the flow, or practice moving like a woman and last but not least, there was the problem of learning to communicate with the world in my new club. The more I progressed with all of this, the more I did not want to be forced back into the male club because the pressure was constantly there. Going back meant leaving all the gender struggle behind me and regaining all the male privileges I had lost when I entered transgender womanhood. 

Somehow, I always managed to keep my dream alive and no matter how beneficial going back seemed to me at the time, maintaining my hard earned membership in my new club was more important to me. I had served my time in an unwanted male existence and had no desire to return. So I continued to spend time in my new club as a transgender woman and learn the benefits of living an authentic life. 

I never really missed the benefits of living in the male world.  Then I needed to set out on the complicated process of telling all of those who thought I was still in the male club, I was not and please listen to the reason why. Some people and family I was successful with and some I was not but none of it kept me from trying. My main goal now is to keep my membership in good standing in the transgender woman's club.