Post Christmas Blues? Or Blacks?

First of all, I would like to send out my condolences to Jeni and/or any of the rest of you who had to spend Christmas by yourselves. As I wrote in yesterday's Cyrsti's Condo post, it is so sad when you are separated from your family for just being yourself.

As far as my Christmas went, it turned out to be in basic black. A couple weeks ago, I happened to mention to Liz I wanted just a basic black sweater. In fact, I even bought myself one not too long ago. Well, yesterday I got two more black sweaters (of different types) as gifts. Plus, a new pair of black boots. Amazingly enough, Liz ordered them on line and they fit.  So now, I have a new sweater and boots set to wear with my paisley patterned leggings.

One way or another, I was blessed with a great Christmas and clothes to wear through the Spring.

Merry Christmas

Let's face it, the holidays are a very lonely time for many in the transgender community.

I hope you all found a home or a new home to spend time with today (Christmas).

I was fortunate. My brother and his entire family pretty much jettisoned our relationship when I came out to him as trans. To replace it though, my daughter came through with her family (plus extended family), as did Liz.

Plus, around here at least, several LGBTQ organizations have their own holiday get togethers.

One way or another, I hope this post finds you with a family this holiday!

What Do you Want for Christmas?

As we approach Christmas, on occasion my thoughts drift back to when I was a kid. As so many of us LGBTQ youth, many years all I really wanted was a doll.

In my family though, any idea of a feminine present was totally out of the question. Instead, I received what "Ralphie" wanted so badly in the classic Christmas movie "A Christmas Story." I got a BB gun.

So much for growing up in a male dominated, patriarchal family. I also remember clearly how my heart would ache whenever I would see a girl I wanted to be like.

For example, I so resented my female cousins in their velvet dresses and cream colored tights at Christmas dinners. My gift was usually football related.

Fortunately now those days are over!

Shamed?

"FABULOUSCONNIEDEEDecember 21, 2018 at 2:59 PM

"I remember so well the sneaking around I did when I first ventured out of the house. I could write a parody of "A Tale of Two Cities" called "A Tale of Two Genders," based on those days: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...." That whole opening paragraph of Dickens' novel sums up the way I felt about myself. It was just a couple of months after my first outing, attending a meeting of the local cross dresser social group, that the holiday season came. I think I attended at least half-a-dozen parties and events with the group, thoroughly enjoying my newly-released feminine-self until I had to sneak back home. Then, I would feel horrible and depressed. It truly did make for a "winter of despair...."

"The shame I had felt for being a tran woman (or whatever I thought I was back then) was nothing, compared to how I felt with all of my conniving and deceit. I likened myself to an alcoholic or drug addict, feeling compelled to do what made me feel good, even at the expense of the love of family and friends. Or, alternately, I would feel as if I were cheating on my wife - with the "other woman" being myself. Even after most everyone else had figured out what I was doing, though, I continued my feeble game.

My game started to unravel completely one year later. I was performing with another trans woman at a New Year's Eve party. It was not unusual for me to be performing at a private party, so I didn't feel like I was really lying so much about what I was doing. Still, out of the guilt I felt for leaving my wife at home while I was celebrating by ringing in the new year, I called her during one of the breaks between sets. She asked, "Is everybody there all dressed up?" I knew then that she knew, just by the way she asked it. Two weeks later, she left a note on the kitchen counter that said she had left to stay with her sister, and she would stay there until I was ready to be honest.

Well, I thought, if she wanted honesty, I was going to give it to her! I called her to tell her that's what I was going to do, and she arrived home to see "the honest me" Sunday afternoon. Of course, in order to be honest with her, I had to be honest with myself. Instead of trying to wow her with my presentation, I dressed in jeans and a sweater, which is what I figured she'd be wearing. I was still not quite ready when my wife came through the door, so she sat down to watch the NFL playoff game that was on the TV. When I entered the room fifteen minutes later, I was surprised at her appearing to be showing more interest in the game than me and my "new look." In fact, I told her that we should wait until the game was over to start our talk! She agreed, and I proceeded to make nachos and a pitcher of Margaritas. All of a sudden, things seemed so normal (even if it was I who was willing to turn off the game, and not her). It was not so normal, really, but it was the beginning of normal. The elephant in the room was gone, and she was able to see me without having to look around it.

What I've learned is that one can't come out successfully until she's come clean. Honesty is really the best policy. Also, there is never a good time to be honest, but putting it off will not make it better or easier; it may well even make it worse.

This is my (Cautionary) Tale of Two Genders. "

Honesty is always the best policy, no matter how painful it is. I didn't practice what I preach though. For years I was dishonest with my deceased wife about what I was doing behind her back.  It's something I will take to my grave feeling terrible about. 

Her comment "Be man enough to become a woman" was one of the more profound phrases I have ever heard.

Space Invader

Yesterday turned out to be a busy day.

The day also wasn't particularly wonderful weather wise with a cold driving rain and winds up to 30 miles a hour. Not real good for a fashionable hair style of any kind but then again, I was facing again what any other cis woman was going through. As the day progressed, we managed to make it through a couple of packed grocery stores.

The final event of the day was going to an informal Yule social. At other socials, I became friends with a woman from Germany. We talked in depth about her homeland and my time there when I was in the Army. For some reason last night, she was rather frenetic. Not long after saying Hello, she said could she ask me a question. Normally that question is when did you know you were transgender or have you had any surgery. She asked me the "how long" question.

I answered without hesitation, most all of my life and I spent at least fifty years in denial as a cross dresser. All this time, she kept nudging me, which I have never particularly been fond of. Anymore, I almost never have to worry about it from a man but some women are just too touchy.

After the "Question and Answer"  session, she remained glued to my side and proceeded to comment on my hair which truthfully had looked better after coming in from the storm. She decided then my decision to let it grow out naturally (including the color) was a poor choice. By that time, I was tired of getting poked and comments which were none of her business, so I moved away from her. Which was tough, because we all were packed into a very small room.

As I moved away, the conversation had turned away from my hair, all the way to whose families migrated from where in the world. Since I haven't taken one of the DNA tests yet, I couldn't play with the cool kids.
,
On the bright side, Liz and I made a pledge to join another man and his two daughters to head down to one of Cincinnati's German eating establishments for fun and beer. Ironically, one of the talking points was an Alaskan beer we both had discovered at our Christmas parties this week.

So, outside of the space invader's unwanted advances, I wasn't too bruised and managed to make it through the evening in one piece.

Christmas Party

Last night was the before mentioned cross dresser - transgender Christmas party. As I figured, everyone was wearing their holiday finest. I  so love it when most of them towered over me in their heels...including Liz. Although, Liz was just slightly taller than I.

We had an excellent time and the food was great.

The only comments we had when we left were how sad it was that many people in the room had to essentially sneak around to come to the party. Or, had limited support from their spouses.

Other than that, the event was well run and it pretty much ushered in the Yule season for us.

We hope you are ready too!

Very Boring...Plus

Very boring describes the first holiday social Liz and I went to last night. Outside of one shriveled up old bag staring at me, no one seemed to care there was a transgender woman in their midst. Also, if I was a betting person (which I am not), I was fairly sure there was a young trans guy who attended too. We ended up at a table with a group of teenagers who predictably were so into their own worlds, they didn't pay me any attention either.

I did compliment one cis woman on her hair color and finally did receive a little hint of appreciation before I left. Overall though, I kept my expectations low...and they were met.

The "plus" in this post comes from the Governor of Ohio (moderate Republican John Kasich) issuing an executive order protecting all state employees from discrimination, even transgender ones. The good news is he issued it, the bad news is he is leaving office and will be replaced by a much more conservative Republican. So I am fairly certain the new governor will find a way to repeal it.

You may, or may not remember, Kasich ran against resident rump for the Republican presidential nomination. Supposedly, he is planning to run again.

You also may remember, tonight is the big cross dresser - transgender group Christmas party. about forty attendees are expected as well as several spouses and even children. It should be interesting.

I will keep you posted.

Social Number One

Tonight begins a series of three straight Holiday socials Liz and I are going to. We are beginning with her "pot luck" martial arts evening. As I explained before, a pot luck is when everyone brings a dish to share with everyone else. I am planning on plenty of dessert, since at least four have responded with desserts as what they are bringing.

Other than that, I don't know really what to expect. Other than knowing most of these people only by sight, I haven't much to say. Innately, I am very shy, so I don't want my silence to come off like a bitch.

I'm wearing my cream colored long sweater which contains just a bit of a gold thread to give it a little Holiday flair. With it, I am wearing my patterned tights and black flats, since the weather is supposed to be un-seasonably warm

The whole affair is only supposed to last a couple hours, so I am sure it will be over before I know it.

I'm sure thinking about it will cause more anxiety than the social itself. Especially if I can find a way to be social!

What Came First?

For nearly a half a century I considered myself a cross dresser rather than a transgender woman. Part of my excuse was the term transgender wasn't even used for most of the referred to half century. However, the biggest part of the blame is on me for refusing to realize the person I truly was...a trans woman. Also, I never really agreed with the old school idea of transsexual women having to have "the surgery" then disappearing into the world with all their knowledge and life lessons. Thus, the beginning of the term, "trans nazi."

For another idea, let's check in with Connie:

 

FABULOUSCONNIEDEEDecember 17, 2018 at 12:04 PM

"Maybe the spark has to come first, and not from the expression or presentation itself. As trans women, many of us spent a lot of time living a male-oriented life, cross dressing as time and situation allowed. The spark that leads to cross dressing is the anticipation of the feeling of the end result. Cis women don't see it that way, and I believe that transitioning trans women eventually reach a point where their perspective is closer to that of a cis woman. That is, femininity is not so much a feeling as it is another aspect of their womanhood.

It seems that the binaries of male/female, man/woman, and masculine/feminine all are bookends for their respective spectra. They are not mutually exclusive, and the possible combinations are endless. I think that many trans women - especially those who are satisfied with being occasional cross dressers - are often more in search of that "feminine feeling" from the perspective of their male-selves. We may well be picturing what we see as the ideal of femininity, and then we proceed to try to mold ourselves to fit that ideal. For some, that act can lead to not only good feelings, but outright euphoria. Then, there are those of us who have come to a point where the thrill is gone. It's just not realistic or sustainable on a day-to-day basis.

I was never secure in my masculinity. For most of my life, I tried to feel good about myself by looking and acting in what I thought to be was an acceptable (if not ideal) masculine way. The results of my efforts were never satisfactory because the premise was wrong. Suppressing my innate femininity simply could not make me masculine. Now that I've shed any expectations of masculinity, however, I have become more secure with my femininity (even while doing things that may be considered to sit more toward the masculine end of the spectrum). I don't need to get all dolled-up to feel feminine, but doing so often makes my feminine-self feel good.

This past weekend afforded me that opportunity for three different events. I felt happy about my physical expressions of my femininity, but I don't really think I felt I was more feminine because of them. In fact, because we had quite a wind storm Friday afternoon, we arrived at the home of our hostess to find that she had been without electricity for three hours. Not only had she not been able to, as she called it, "swank herself out," the light from the fireplace and a few candles was not enough to reveal our efforts, either. Yet, I don't think anyone felt any less feminine. My wife and I laughed on the way home about how we'd gone to so much trouble for nothing. I joked that we had literally left our hostess in the dark, but there was little doubt about our femininity. "

I like the term "swank herself out!" Thanks for the comment :)