Karma?

 

JJ Hart with Liz on left and daughter
on right.

Last night, my wife Liz, her son and I went out to eat at our favorite restaurant. 

We have been to the venue many times without any of the staff misgendering me. Spoiler alert. My record of not being misgendered would go out the window last night. Per norm, the venue was busy, and no one paid me any attention as we were led to our seat. So, outside of a few screaming kids, I was feeling pretty good about my experience. For the evening, I chose my new Jimmy Buffet "Margaritaville" T shirt I bought in Key West and paired it with my favorite leggings. After a close shave and a foundation coat with lip stick, I was ready to go and enjoy a margarita. 

As I said, I was feeling relaxed until we ordered, and here it came out of nowhere, the dreaded "S" word. You guessed it, the waiter called me sir. I was devasted and shocked at being called sir for the first time there ever. Then I began to wonder what went wrong, then I remembered a couple things I did wrong which could have contributed to being misgendered. The one obvious one was how I was presenting myself. Maybe the Buffett T-shirt I was wearing was a little too casual and I had not prepared my arms for a bare excursion into the world. Normally, I still need to shave my arms which I did not. So, my preparation laziness cost me.

The next point is where karma came into play. Today, we were supposed to go north to Dayton, Ohio for a Passover Seder reception at my daughter's mother-in-law. Sadly, severe storms are forecast for today in the area, so we decided not to make the rather lengthy trip. When I emailed my daughter to tell her the bad news, I asked how my trans grandchild who uses the "they and them" pronouns was doing and did they still have a job waiting for them this fall after they are done walking the Appalachian Trail. It turns out, they reached the two-hundred-mile point. 

Now what did I do wrong? As I was emailing my daughter, I thought I was being careful on which pronouns to use. Along the way (dammit) I slipped up and used the forbidden "her" word and ignorantly sent the message before I checked the entire message. Of course, then it was too late, and the message was sent. 

Now I feel as if karma got even with me later that evening when the waiter misgendered me. In the future I will have to be better, and I should be the last one in the family who should mess up their pronouns. When I do, karma should come around and slap me. 

One way or another, I need to do better where my presentation is concerned, and most certainly do better with my grandchild's pronouns. And, by the way, they still have a job as a civilian with the US Navy nuclear program in Maine. The gender haters in the orange felon's administration have not discovered them yet and I hope they never will. 

In the meantime, I am a firm believer in good karma and will work harder to make sure I pay my life forward the best I can to pay it forward to help others and not screw up my grandchild's pronoun's.  

Forever Dancing

 

Image from Alexa Posteraro
on UnSplash.

During my long gender journey, I often thought there were times when I had finished my trip and made it to my goal of transgender womanhood.

It was during those occasions when life laughed at me and said I better begin dancing once again. As always, I was a terrible dancer and needed to try harder than the average woman to succeed. If I did not, I knew I would never make it.

Earlier in my journey, I thought I was doing enough dancing to get myself by and then hit a solid gender wall when I failed. Any gender euphoria was very brief and fleeting as I went out in public as a novice transgender woman for the first time. On too many occasions, I needed to hurry home in tears after being laughed at (or worse) by the public. Fortunately, I was somehow able to pick myself up and get back to dancing the best I could in my gender game. At whatever cost I needed to do, my first priority was to improve my overall femininized presentation. 

I started by losing weight. In fact, I shed nearly fifty pounds which enabled me to better fit into a wider and more fashionable style of women's clothing than I ever had before. From there, I began to work more diligently on my skin. So, I could wear less makeup. Then I added better wigs to my dance list and finally began to notice a difference in how I was perceived in the world as a transgender woman. By that time, I thought I was ready to dance but I was far from it. All I had really done was carefully craft a feminine image which I needed to put into motion. 

As I continued to enter the world as a transgender woman, many times, the world pushed back at me. I had problems with how I moved and how I communicated with the public before I could ultimately relax and really learn to dance. As I tried and tried to improve myself, most of the push back came from my second wife and my old male self. Both of whom had stakes in my success or failure in my new world. I have written often of the times when my wife rightfully said I made a terrible woman. Mainly because I was still putting my woman together and was making mistakes. At that point, I did not have the lived experiences as a trans woman to do better and anytime she caught me out of our agreement to explore the world, all hell would break lose. Afterall, she understood more than I did how she was losing my male self to another woman. Who happened to be me.

Once I broke through and decided transgender womanhood was the only dance for me, I began to do better. Physically, I never made it to being a better dancer, but mentally I did. Primarily because I needed to survive in the feminine world or sandbox, I chose. By nature, I found cisgender women operate on a whole different level than men. Which I already knew of course but not to the point of survival I found myself in the midst of. To oversimplify, men came at me from at the most two angles, and women from many more. I was ambushed by several passive aggressive women on many occasions before I learned to protect myself from perceived lesser threats. 

To this day, I am still dancing. Primarily because it is what it takes to be a transgender woman in todays' world. Plus, I would be remiss if I did not mention the small group of women friends, I had who were instrumental in helping me with my dancing lessons.   

Transgender Dreams

 

Image from Alex Azabache 
on UnSplash.

My last question from my transgender grandchild for my yearlong book of questions I am putting together went something like this: If I had it all to do over again, what would I tell my twenty-year-old self about life.

First of all, before I answer, the questions come from a site called "Story Worth", and at the end of a year, they put all the weekly questions together to form a book on your life. It was a gift from my daughter. I am more than three-quarters through it already with a chance to add more questions for a small amount of extra money.

Now, back to my twenty-year-old self. First of all, at that time, I was consumed by two issues. Being drafted into the military along with a strong desire to be a woman. Conflicting problems to be certain which I was having a very difficult time dealing with. In the tried and true if I had known then what I know now, I would not have spent so much time worrying about basic training and beyond. I learned as I went through basic, that after I got into shape, it was just a team building experience with military realities built in. I made it through much easier than I thought I would and then prepared myself to serve out the remainder of my three-year enlistment. To be honest, I did not join the Army because I wanted to, or I thought it would make me anymore of a man. I was drafted into the service because of the Vietnam War. 

If anything, my gender issues became stronger when I was away in the military, as I constantly day-dreamed any spare moment I had about when I would become a civilian again and be able to pursue my dream of being a woman. It was all I had to get me by. 

Little did I know at the age of twenty, how complex and difficult my gender journey would take me throughout my life. To put it into perspective, the Army only took three years away from me, while deciding to finally come out as a transgender woman, took me forty more. I am sure my twenty years old would have asked why it took me so long to face the reality of who I really was and quit making excuses. I kidded myself for years thinking I was strong and would have to admit to my twenty-year-old, I simply wasn't. 

I would also have to tell my young self to not be afraid to dream because without dreams to achieve, often we arrive nowhere. I would have never made it to my goal of transgender womanhood unless I dreamed of it all those years and took steps to finally make it. Regardless of all the self-destructive behavior I put myself through. You only have one life to live and should try to do the best you can to preserve it. 

I was fortunate to have lived long enough to see my life come full circle from that confused twenty-year-old I was. When I did, I was able to achieve transgender dreams I never thought possible.  Of course, none of us know our ultimate destinies, the least we can do is accomplish goals which lead us in the right direction.

If you are in your closet, thinking you are trapped like I was, just do your best to look for the opportunities you may have to escape. Later on in life, it all may come back to help you with your transgender dreams.