I Never Felt at Home

 

Image from JJ Hart

Rarely, every now and then someone asks me when I knew I had gender issues. 

The answer I give everyone is I knew forever there was something wrong with me. I just did not know what. Plus, by the time I realized what was wrong, I felt as if I was alone in the world with my gender issues. I was very confused. As I grew through my teen years, I knew I wanted to be a girl but just did not see a path forward. 

Through it all, I kept searching for answers. I knew for certain I felt elated and natural when I cross dressed as a girl and never quite felt at home when I was with a group of males. I felt as if I was an outsider looking in. 

The older I became, the better I was at hiding my feelings. I tried my best to do all the usual male activities such as playing sports and working on cars. I played the male game well to hide my inner most feminine feelings but all along still felt like an intruder. It wasn't until I began to seriously explore my transgender womanhood did, I finally learned the truth, I was not meant to live a male life at all. As I recently wrote, I was stuck in some sort of a gender never-never land I was destined to never escape. I spent too much time pitying myself and playing the gender victim before I stepped up to face my problems.

In the meantime, the biggest problem I faced was deciding what to do with the increasingly immense amount of male baggage I was accumulating. After being discharged from the Army and finishing my second college degree, we added my daughter to the family, and I suddenly needed to become serious about beginning a career which I could support a family on. Then came the route I followed to a successful job I would probably have to give up if I transitioned to a transgender woman. As I advanced up the corporate ladder, at all the macho leaning meetings I needed to attend, I still felt completely out of place. No matter how successful I was.

Then there was the biggest piece of baggage of all which was my second wife. Although, she knew from day one I was a cross dresser, she drew a line in the sand when it came to any idea at all I was transgender and wanted to begin gender affirming hormones. She and my male self-formed a formidable pair when it came to any idea of me going any further towards transgender womanhood. When she unexpectedly passed away at the age of fifty from a massive heart attack, my male self-lost his strongest supporter and he just faded quickly away.

At the same time, I was building a new set of friends who happened to be women and lesbian and I had never felt so at home in my life. They embraced me for my authentic self while at the same time I relaxed and learned so much about womanhood from them. I never thought possible, life would ever be so fulfilling again since I was already sixty. It was well over a decade now and during the same period I met my current wife, Liz. 

Feeling at home for the first time in my life was the best possible feeling I could ever have. 

Expedition Transgender

 

Image courtesy JJ Hart

The half century journey I embarked on to finally come up as my true authentic self was certainly an expedition. 

As I always mention, my discovery began with going through my mom's underwear drawer and trying on nylons, bras and girdles I could still fit into before testosterone poisoning really set in. From there, I progressed into makeup and very slowly began to increase my craft. I did not really want to look like a clown in drag so I did the best I could. 

Life went by and so did my expedition. Sadly, for several reasons, I developed several coping mechanisms to mask my gender truth. I tried and tried to convince myself my desire to wear women's clothes and look feminine was just a harmless hobby and perhaps was just a phase in life I was going through. It took me years to realize the true phase I was going through was that I was a male at all. With sheer willpower, I managed to learn to play the male game fairly successfully and lived a life which shielded my feminine self from most all intrusions. I went into my dark lonely gender closet and slammed the door.

It took me years to have the courage to open my closet door and tentatively look around. When I did, my expedition took sudden and encouraging turns. The more I tested the public as a transgender woman, the more successful I was. I set out to sample as much as I could of a woman's lifestyle and discover my feelings on what would happen next. I tried going to gay and lesbian bars as well as big sports bars and found I could carve out a spot as a regular in a so-called straight venue. I also tried to go to various other places such as bookstores and other retail venues single women would go. In other words, I was obsessed with coming as close as I could on my expedition to seeing what a cis woman went through in her life. By doing so, I could make the final decision on where I wanted to go with my life, as a man or as a woman. 

As my expedition transgender progressed, I found myself in a face-to-face decision on beginning to take gender affirming hormones or not. Since my only real opposition to beginning the hormones had passed away, my ultimate path was clear, and I sought out a doctor for approval. He checked me out and determined I was healthy enough to begin HRT with minimum dosages of Estradiol and a testosterone blocker and my life changed forever. All the changes which occurred would fill another blog post themselves. Perhaps the biggest overall surprise was how quickly my body took to the new hormones. So fast, I needed to rethink how quickly I was going to have to change the timetable of when I ultimately wanted to finish my expedition and enter my own transgender womanhood.

I learned the fact of the matter was, I was always living a gender lie. I had refused to accept the fact I was always deeply feminine and was forced into a male lifestyle from some cruel twist of fate. All the time I thought I was a man attempting to be a woman was wrong. I was a woman attempting to be a man.

I wish I could have a portion of my life back to re-center my expedition and start all over again.  

 

Merry Christmas

Leg Lamp from the "Christmas Story"

 Doesn't seem possible another year has flown by and here I am writing another Christmas Day blog post as the "Yule Log" plays on the television behind my wife Liz and me.

Earlier this morning, I cried tears of sorrow and joy. The sorrow came from remembering the times of my life when my family was strong, and we had festive Christmases. Plus, I am old enough to remember how much fun it was when the downtown was vibrant and glowing with its holiday decorations. Now around here at least, the downtowns have been replaced by sterile decaying malls or outside shopping centers. I even cried when I recalled the life my ex-brother and I shared. 

Now, the tears of joy. Slowly but surely as I began to think about the present, I shed tears when I thought of the love I feel for Liz and how fortunate I am to have someone to love me in a season where so many others, especially in the transgender community just don't. When my brother and his family rejected me during the holiday season over a decade ago, I found a new family with my daughter and Liz. I know I am blessed.

On this Christmas, I also make sure I watch a couple of my favorite classics such as "It's a Wonderful Life" and Ralphie's "The Christmas Story." Ralphie is especially special to me because the time period it represents is roughly the same as mine growing up. The only difference is, instead of the BB Gun Ralphie so desperately wanted, in my case I received the gun but did not get what I wanted, a doll baby. It is poetic justice, I guess.

Regardless, I hope you have a Merry Christmas with blood or chosen family and thanks for joining me!