Opening Transgender Doors

 

Image from Sara Darcaj on Unplash.

To me, life is a process when we are born and doors open and when you die, and doors close.

For transgender women and trans men, sometimes the process is more intense. Depending upon where you view yourself in the gender process, we go through a series of doors until we reach our dreams. On a personal note, I think I went through at least three or four transitions before I arrived where I am today. The first realization I had was when I was quite young and understood when I looked in the mirror cross dressed, it was only the beginning. I wanted to do so much more than just look like a girl; I wanted to live her life also. I equated it to the problems I had with my gender roller coaster. When I was able to dress as my feminine self, I was satisfied and happy, for a couple days until I became depressed and moody again. Looking back, I equate the process with knowing I was transgender but back then, the information on being trans just wasn't available.

My second big transition came when I learned I did not have to wait another whole year between Halloweens to test the world as me. I was desperate not to have to wait a whole year before I could learn again the feminine lessons I needed to move on to my next major transition. I refer to it quite a bit as the time I suddenly realized I wasn't a part-time cross dresser at all, I was a much scarier prospect, I was a transgender woman. A term which was just being known and popularized. I say scarier because accepting the fact I was transgender meant I needed to apply a deeper understanding to who I was on another level. Not just reapplying myself to more effective feminine presentations. Along the way, I had reached the point when I could blend in with society as myself, so I had the time and inner energy to move my life forward towards my dream which involved my next transition. 

The important aspect of my next major door to go through was the simple knowledge I could indeed establish a new life on the other side of the gender frontier. Confidence was everything as I decided to knock on the door of gender affirming hormones. I bravely sought out a doctor who would prescribe my minimal dosages of the meds until he could see I had no adverse problems. At that point, it was obvious to me my body had taken to the new hormones in a very unprecedented way. It was as if I should have been on the new treatment all my life. 

In turn, the changes the hormones made were nothing short of amazing. I could and have written entire blog posts on the hormonal subject and what it meant to me. At the least, all the doors I was able to go through in my life, made life much less boring and interesting. Just wondering what would be behind the next door was scary but exciting since changing genders into what you always should have been, made life worthwhile for me. 

Without doors to encounter, my life began to slow, and I had a chance to enjoy my true self thanks to new friends I had made. Along with my desire to see what is behind the next door.

A Line in the Sand

Image from Lance Asper
on UnSplash

 It has been over a decade now when I decided to finally draw a line in the sand and give up on my well-worn, unwanted male self.

I say well worn, because I had spent nearly sixty years trying my best to live up to the supposed ideals of the male gender. It was exhausting keeping up with all the testosterone driven male "club." Still, I persisted and managed to build a fairly successful life. Once I was successful and had built up my share of male privilege, it was difficult to want to give it all up.

The pressure of having the possibility to live my dream of transgender womanhood finally got the best of me after a very serious suicide attempt. Finally, I needed to draw the line in the sand and do the right thing. The thing I had worked all those years of being a cross dresser to do. Even still, I knew deep down what I needed to face and do. It was just because at times, the line appeared to me as deep as a canyon. It was scary trying my best to jump it and exactly what was on the other side. I was fortunate in that I was able to research deeply what a life would be like as a transgender woman. 

I did my best to live out the life I would expect to live if I transitioned from a cross dresser to transgender woman. Against all personal odds, I was able to find a whole new set of friends and acquaintances who accepted my authentic self. They in turn, taught me so much about being myself. What worked and what did not. For example, I did not want to be too loud or impulsive but on the other hand I could not be very introverted because I would be mistaken for being bitchy. For a while, it was touch and go in my learning process, until I felt confident. 

I compare the process to a gentle pleasant wind coming up and blowing away my line in the sand. Very soon, I could not see where it even was. When it happened, it made up for every male privilege I lost. Quickly I forgot how I felt when I was "mansplained" by a guy or how I felt when I made to feel I had lost part of my intelligence just because I was a woman. I just knew how important I felt when I had finally arrived on the other side of my line in the sand.

Old friends, and part of my family were gone but quickly I was able to replace them with new friends and another accepting family unit. In many ways, life was still terrifying but so much more exciting and satisfying. I should have never waited as long as I did to erase my line in the sand. No more thoughts of suicide and for once being able to be myself were just a couple of the benefits. 

A Spectator in my Own Life

 

Image from Ryan 
Mangino on UnSplash.

There were many times during my life as a transgender woman, I felt as if I was a spectator looking in on the action.

The whole process was very strange to say the least as I was thinking, just who was that person. Plus, having the chance to think what I was doing was a totally different sensation. The entire problem stemmed I think, from the earlier years of my life when I was positive, I was two different people all together. One male and one female. It was not until much later on when I began to realize I was always feminine and fought all things male when I could.

Slowly but surely, I began to realize the truth and began to notice my cross-dressing nights out involved much more than just attempting to look the best I could. My spectator began slowly to change away from watching a male life unfold to watching a female one do the same. Helping me were the girls-night-out invitations I received. Following a bout of impostor's syndrome, I suffered through, I settled down and enjoyed myself. When I came to the conclusion I had just as much right there as the next woman. We had all came to our right of womanhood through different paths and mine was just different.

Finally, I grew tired of just being a spectator in my feminine life and wanted more. More meant being a spectator in my male life. Since I was still working and living part-time as a man, it meant I really needed to concentrate on my speech and movements when I was still a guy. In fact, there were a couple of embarrassing times when I was called Ma'am at work when I was in male mode. 

Early on, being a spectator in my own life was certainly a curiosity. Especially, when I thought I was just a cross dresser and putting on a dress was just a hobby. The closer I moved to true transgender womanhood, the more I learned that was not true. As I always say, the key moment in my life came when I realized I was not a man cross dressing as a woman, I was a woman cross dressing as a man. The tragic part was I went through male puberty and was testosterone poisoned as I grew up. I did not appreciate when my soft body turned to hardened angles as well as the other male changes but there was nothing I could do.

When I found my gender destination, I stopped being a spectator and began to be a more involved participant. For me, flipping my gender became an intensely frightening but natural part of my life. Living my dream was so dominant in my thought pattern, I had no problem with girls-nights-out and even could not wait for them. My newfound confidence as a woman completely pushed any idea of me being a spectator aside and opened the door for me to be a more well-rounded participant. Of course, confidence always grows more confidence, and I grew to the point where I had nothing else to prove to the other women I was around.

As I look back, being a spectator in my own life as sometimes a necessary but very different part of my existence. The entire process sometimes helped me to understand where I was going towards my dream of transgender womanhood.