Staying in your Own Lane

 

Image from Gabriel
Silverio on UnSplash.

As I transitioned into my own version of transgender womanhood, there were plenty of opportunities to not stay in my own lane.

First of all, I needed to get my presentation house in order so I could even receive a fair chance at starting. Paraphrasing "Stana" of "Femulate Blog" fame, in order to pass properly, I needed to first signal before I accelerated and moved to the outside lane. For me, acceleration was not an immediate or easy thing to do. Before I began to see any progress, I needed to put the mirror behind me and seek approval from the public at large. Once I was able to do that, then I needed to push away any of my ingrained male thoughts I was having on how I should look. He was leading me towards a totally trashy look which was attracting too much negative attention. If I wanted to stay in the feminine lane and be successful at all, I would have to change...quickly.

Once I began to be more comfortable and accepted in the feminine lane I was in, I needed to then learn all the nuances of the new life I had chosen. Immediately, the concept of passive aggression got to me. Too many times, I was fooled by another woman's smiling face or indirect suggestions. Examples included the times when I was complimented on how I looked. I was told how good I looked without the extra statement, for a man dressed as a woman. Regardless, I had too many claw marks down my back from encounters with women who I perceived as harmless. It took me awhile to learn the new lane I was in with other women. Once the scars healed on my back, I developed the knowledge and thick skin I would need to get in the passing lane and survive.

As I cautiously began to live more and more in my new gender lane, the more natural life became. I developed a whole new group of women friends and learned tons of ideas from them on how to stay where I was. The group of us partied into many nights and I discovered I was still messing up by trying to live in both gender worlds. I guess you could say, when the going became rough in the feminine lane I was in, I could always escape back into my male privileged world I knew so well. Finally, with the help of my friends who were primarily lesbians, they taught me my validation did not have to come from men, it could come from within. It was the only signal I needed to switch gender lanes and stay there.

These days, with the current political climate, we transgender women and trans men are trying to be forced back into our original lanes. It is in times such as these when we still have to be as visible as possible and live our lives as authentically as possible. As I have written several times, my own demarcation point of support is coming up in May with the Veterans Administration health care system. In May I have an appointment with my Endocrinologist and the opportunity to get my Estradiol prescription renewed. I naturally don't have total confidence the government won't step in and block my gender affirming hormones. I am sure, I will be writing about my fears as the date gets closer.

I am desperately trying to stay in my own lane which meant years ago I was able to live as the person I was always meant to be. At my current age of seventy-five, there is no way I am going back to my old lane I was unhappily living.     

A Push versus a Dream

 

JJ Hart

I often describe my journey to transgender womanhood as the impossible dream. 

On the other hand, I cannot ignore all the pushing I needed to do to arrive at my goal. My pushing started at a very young age when I was first cross dressing in front of the mirror. To begin with, I needed to push hard to find hiding places for my exceedingly small, treasured collection of feminine wardrobe selections. I resorted to old boxes in the garage attic, all the way to a hollowed-out tree in the woods next door to our house. In trash bags. Anything to stay safe with my secret. I knew if I was exposed, life as I knew it would be over.

I did push on and survive so my dream was still intact when I went to college and then served out my time in the military. My military time was especially stressful as I needed again to carefully conceal any idea, I was feminine at all. Through it all, I needed to keep my thoughts centered on a far-away dream I had of being able to live as a transgender woman. Sadly, there were too many times when I did not see how I could make it at all. Especially when the Army was strongly reinforcing my manhood. 

As in many other facets of life, the Army came and went leaving me a sense of freedom of what I could do concerning my gender issues. My first marriage came shortly following my discharge from the military and left me still wondering about what was going on. My first wife knew I was a cross dresser and did not really care, so I was left on my own to make any gender decisions I might decide on. This was back in the late 1970's and there was very little information on even being a cross dresser available. Again, I was on my own until the computer became a reality, and I was able to reach out to others. I learned quickly I was not alone and began to push for more clarity in my life. I even was able to dream more frequently of being able to live as my authentic self.

Before I did, I needed to determine what my authentic self really was and push to get there. This meant going down a largely selfish road as I carefully checked my gender boxes. It took me years to figure it out until I was able to merge how hard I was pushing with my ultimate gender dream of a being a transgender woman. My authentic self which was revealing her-self When she did, she left no doubt on why I felt the way I had my entire life. Something was not quite right, and I pushed on to figure out what the problem was. In the meantime, I treaded water cross dressing in front of the mirror until I found the courage and confidence to try going public.

Each and every time I was successful at all in dealing with the world, my dream was re-ignited, and I started to push through or totally ignore any gender warning signs I encountered. Everything I was doing put me completely at odds with my second wife, who again knew I was a cross dresser but never wanted me to leave the house dressed. Not only did I break my promise to her, but I also went as far as beginning a whole new life. My new life rapidly became very important to me mainly because I was happier and the whole life felt so much more natural.

My lifetime full of pushing finally aligned with my ultimate dream of transgender womanhood. Destiny opened my gender doors at the age of sixty and I took complete advantage. 

Burning Gender Bridges

 

Image from Adam Wilson
on UnSplash

During my life, I have always excelled in self-destruction. It seemed, whenever I had succeeded in anything positive, I always tried to tear it down. 

I blame the entire process on two basics, one of which on how I was raised. My parents never accentuated the positive at any time. If I received a "B" in any class, invariably I heard, why didn't I earn an "A" and I was not applying myself properly. The other basic was anything I accomplished as my male self; I did my best to reject. I did not in any way want to accept any success I earned as a male. So, I did my best to burn the gender bridge I created. 

Of course, the more I went down my gender path towards transgender womanhood, the more bridges I needed to burn. Everywhere I looked, the stakes were higher in life. All along I was accumulating more and more success as my unwanted male self which made my decision so much more difficult. Still, I forged on with my torch burning brightly. To hell with the results, I was going to attempt to follow my gender dreams anyway. Finally, I arrived at the point where seemingly I was subconsciously trying to sabotage myself. In many ways, I was desperately attempting to hide my deep dark cross-dressing secret while, on the other hand, I secretly wanted everyone to know I had always wanted to live as my authentic feminine self and did not care what they thought. Still, I needed to be careful as I had deep roots to my male past. Spouses, family and jobs were at stake. So, I tried to be sure of what I was doing before I cut the gender tree down.

Perhaps the most substantial bridge I needed to burn was to my job. I was a very successful restaurant manager in a regional/national casual restaurant chain. The management was very male dominated, and I knew there was no way I could ever transition in the same job. 

I decided to try going to other similar food/bar competitors thinking no one would recognize me. Long story short, I found out the hard way I was recognized as a version of my male self. To make matters worse, I tried to frequent my own operation and was close to being immediately recognized. In doing so, I burnt a major bridge which I don't think my wife ever found out about. It was bad enough when she knew I was breaking the agreement we had for me to never leave the house as a transgender woman.

The new bridge I built when I burnt the old one was when I decided to buy my own restaurant. I figured if I was the owner, no one could tell me what to do. That was true to an extent until one night a very evil former acquaintance met me in the parking lot to tell me my lifestyle was keeping the public away where we operated. I don't know how true what he said was but one way or another, I had burnt all my gender bridges and there was no way I could ever go back. 

When I transitioned and began my life as a transgender woman, I was able to build new strong bridges for the first time in my life. It was like my feminine soul was excellent in her building skills and could not wait for a chance to thrive.

The sad part was/is how much destruction I had to go through just to arrive at where my dream could be born. It turned out the birth was the easiest part of it all, as I set out to live a fulltime new life in my transgender womanhood. I finally had the chance to put my fire out. At least the destructive one.