The "Capable" Transgender Woman

 I received several wonderful comments on a recent post concerning an ill advised attempt to clean an ice covered car. By doing it I subjected myself to several days of pain filled life including today. What I liked about the comments was both of them went into the influence of their Mothers on their lives.

The first comes from Georgette:

Photo Courtesy Georgette 

"

I think some of that gets to ones background and at what the times were like when one transitioned, 

In the 70s there was the new idea of TG instead of TS started to be used by some, Some used it to divide rather than unite us together. TG was used by some that wanted no part of the medical and surgical that most TS did,

So maybe it does give me a certain idea on that "transer" than others, But I am working on that,

When I transitioned at work I would get from the guys of why would I want to become a "2nd Class Person" as many women were treated.

I can't recall many that would want to hear about the physical part, Men get weird when I would describe what the surgical meant.I guess I was a "Feminist" that I learned from my mother that I refused the idea that a women was somehow less than a man.I have always been a very affirmative women, Maybe that is a little leftover "man" except I was never an affirmative "man".

As I never went completely "stealth", Also never used those image filters and such back than, I see no point in using them, As I have learned to accept myself as I am."

The second comes from Connie:

"One of the unspoken conditions of the new relationship my wife and I have had since the onset of my transition is that I continue to perform some of the more-manly chores around the house. I can still take some pride in the fact that I have managed to keep the house in working order, without ever having to call a professional (except for a total roof replacement). I can’t say that I ever really enjoyed being Mr. Fixit in the past, and I dislike, even more, being Mrs. Fixit. Nevertheless, I do it because we can’t afford to pay professionals, anyway. Rather than Mrs. Fixit, then, I prefer the monikers of either “Connie Can-do” or “Capable Woman.” I’ve found that, although I don’t feel overly feminine while doing these tasks, I certainly don’t feel manly, either.

Photo Courtesy Connie Malone

My father died of cancer when I was eight-years-old, and my mother learned how to do many of the maintenance jobs around the house. I suppose I learned from watching her that a woman can be feminine and capable at the same time. I also learned from her how to live comfortably on a limited budget, so why call a professional when one can do it herself? These days, though, it is not unusual to see women doing some things that were deemed to be a man’s job in the ‘50s and ‘60s.

I think that age has more to do with limiting activities than anything else. I know that I had beaten my body up quite a bit in the past, endeavoring to prove my physical and masculine prowess – so as to hide my underlying femininity. My feminine-self is much wiser than was my masculine-self, however, so I now know to pace myself. Old injuries seem to pop up just about every morning, whether I did anything the day before or not, so I don’t need the added residual pain from having overdone some chore the day before. I am “Capable Woman,” but I don’t want to end up being “Incapacitated Woman.” :-)"

My Mom was also very assertive and worked for years outside of the home as a high school teacher. I suppose I learned from her a woman could be strong and independent . Little did she know it but I learned the same lessons from my second wife. Even though we fought continually about the type of woman I was becoming. My Dad entered the picture when he built his own house in the 1950's. In my younger years I tried to measure up to him by restoring our vintage 1860's brick building. 

I suppose both of my parents contributed to me being a "capable" transgender woman when my brain catches up with my body...as Paula wrote.

Not the Man I used to Be

 Recently we had to endure a portion of the massive winter storm which blanketed the middle and eastern part of the country. We received over six inches of ice, sleet and snow. Following all of that temperatures plummeted courtesy of an Artic blast. Due to lack of planning we weren't part of the hoard hitting all the grocery stores, so we were quickly running out of something to eat. 

"Attitude" Photo
Courtesy JJ Hart

Not so long ago (it seemed) I would have had no problem scraping and cleaning the car. It seems forgetting all the years of aging combined with estrogen and testosterone reduction  has taken it's toll. Seemingly when I finished the task of cleaning the car, I was feeling good about the whole process. Even to the point of telling Liz who was against me doing it. She is fond of telling me my mind has not accepted the fact I am physically not the man I used to be. 

She was completely right in this case. After throwing caution to the wind and cleaning the car, I found and/or felt the pain in my back. In other words, I spent yesterday in pain and am not much better today. 

The whole deal proves once again how truly stubborn I really am. During the majority of my life, my perseverance has served me well. Of course the major example is my cross dressing past, building to me becoming a novice transgender woman. I have written many times of the error more than trial which went into my ever so slow progression into fulfilling my dream of being  able to live full time as a transgender woman. 

Then there was my time in the military. Since I was being drafted into the service, I chose the three year enlistment plan which helped me to be able to work in a job field of my choosing. No body told me how difficult the process would be and I went for it anyhow. I became one of just sixty persons in the entire Army doing my job as a radio broadcaster/DJ. That in turn led me to meeting and later marrying the mother of my only child. A very accepting daughter who I cherish more and more as time goes by. The military even provided me my first chance to "come out" to friends about being a transvestite. Through it all, no one tried to tell me any of what I accomplished was impossible. Not that I would have listened anyhow.

Coming full circle and having a hard time even moving with no pain, I at least wish I had listened to Liz and left the car alone. 

My back is telling me I am not the man I used to be.  Or then again, the man I never wanted to be anyhow. I just need to get past the remaining vestiges of what a much younger man is telling me to be. It's difficult because I dislike feeling worthless.  Whose to say also I have learned my lesson the next time a big snowfall hits. I feel like now I have.

Wednesday Hump Day

 Or should I say ""dey" in support of the Super Bowl bound Cincinnati Bengals whose rallying cry is "Who Dey think is going to beat those Bengals! More on the game for later this week.

In the meantime, hump day can mean a certain tipping point for any transgender women and men. Or how far do you go in your gender transition before there is no turning back. You have discovered how natural it feels to be your authentic self and want to live it full time.

I spent years researching my life to see if I could cross the gender frontier. In fact, if the truth be known, I spent too long trying to live as both binary genders. One week I would spend as much as three days experiencing life in a feminine world before I went back to my boring daily world doing my best to act like a macho man. 

I was stubborn and seemingly thought out every angle such as telling family and friends and of course

considered the all important financial aspect of transitioning, The entire process to me was similar to a  gender teeter-totter. Up and feminine one day, down and male the next.

I also considered the process as slipping down a slope which became increasingly steep and slippery. Finally what happened was I couldn't take the stress any longer and decided to make the jump, transition, and live as my more natural feminine self. 

What turned out to be one of the most momentous decisions in my life was not to be undertaken alone. Over a relatively short amount of time I developed a small group of women friends who helped to make my landing softer and tip the teeter totter permanently in the feminine direction. They all mean more to me than I can ever say. 

On this "Hump Dey" I hope all of you still locked in a dark gender closet find a light at the end of the tunnel which is not the train. Whatever seems permanent today, can change quickly tomorrow.  

Romanticizing Hell

 It is rare I don't sleep and I used to sleep with the television on as a crutch of sorts.  Recently though I have made a deal with Liz to try sleeping with the television off.  Regardless of all the warnings I received over the years of how harmful it could be to my psyche, I persisted until last week. After a terse discussion with Liz, I gave in to trying not to wake her up with a television being on. 

Overall, the process has proven to be a success. Even though I can't say I sleep any better, I can say when I am up in the middle of the night like last night, I have a tendency to think of blog posts to write. Of course the problem is remembering all the ideas flowing through my head. Last night, I was up for an extended length of time and came up with several good experiences I have had in my past as I crossed the gender frontier. As I thought about them though I knew I had written about most of them previously.

Then I thought about the flip side of all the pleasant experiences I had. 

With me at least, time doesn't heal all wounds but time does tend to emphasize the positive over the negative. For example, here is one I thought about last night. The whole excursion happened one night when I was making yet another trip to a local mall to go shopping. I truthfully don't remember much about what I was wearing except the outfit did involve a dress, heels and hose. 

By this time in my transgender transition, I had settled in to the idea store sales clerks didn't care much about my gender. They cared so much more about the color of my money. In fact, my daughter worked for Victoria's Secrets years ago and she told me the story of the extra money she made when her fellow clerks wouldn't wait on an obvious cross dresser. The extra commission she made came in handy.

Photo NOT of me

Photo by rylan krupp on Unsplash

By now, you are probably thinking what does any of that have to do about romanticizing hell. On the night in question, everything got off to a terrible start when I entered the mall. As I did, a woman and her two teenaged daughters were coming out. To make a long story short, I could hear them loudly laugh and say something about a man in a dress. Just about the worse thing which could happen and my confidence was shattered. 

Instead of just turning around and leaving the mall, I decided to keep going and hope the experience would get better. Well, it didn't. As I tried to do my shopping in the usual stores I frequented, I picked up an unwanted escort service from a bored mall security cop. 

By this time I finally had enough and I calmly (as much as I could) walked my way out of the mall and back to my car. Fighting back tears all the way. 

When I arrived back at home and was  taking my makeup and clothes off before my wife arrived, I wondered why I did this cross dressing activity at all. Still in tears, with mascara running down my face I chose the more difficult path. I chose to dedicate myself to perfecting my outward appearance and to be a better judge of my own look. In other words, quit believing everything the mirror told me. 

As I began to dress to blend with the other women around me, my femininized life began to improve and I wouldn't have to romanticize hell much anymore. 

Are You a Transphobe?

As I search through a few of my past archives from a couple years ago, every now and then a post jumps out to me as still being very relevant today. This post seems to be a contradiction in terms...except it is unfortunately not. 

First of all here is the post: 

" Even though it sounds like a contradiction in terms but in the transgender community you can definitely think transphobia is possible. It could come from two sources.

The first of which are left over male vestiges from a Mtf gender transition. Take Caitlynn Jenner for example. Knowing fair well the incoming Republican candidate was anti trans, she still supported him anyhow. She couldn't do away with all her previous male life, even if it meant protecting future transgender rights. Most certainly cis women support Republican ideas too but does their phobia's come from different places than men. Most people think women are the kinder and more gentle gender aren't always correct. I have known too many trans women who still can't leave their male past behind for any number of reasons. 

I think too, much of this relates to the "I'm more transer than thou" attitude, another reflection of latent transphobia. 

In our earliest cross dressing days, many of us (including me) fixate so totally on looking feminine, we do lose fact of what being feminine is all about. However, all the operations in the world, can't "teach" you how to be a cis woman. You have to live it, like they did. At this point, good old male competitiveness sets in. More operations and/or a nicer wardrobe make you more of a "woman" than the next trans woman.  Maybe the people who still advocate for going stealth to escape the community are right. 

Plus, it is exceedingly difficult to cross the gender frontier and it takes more than a little internal fortitude to do it. If you able to come through it unscathed as a human being, you have done well. As we all know too, there are so many different layers to being a cross dresser all the way to living full time as a transgender woman. I am one myself as I am relatively rare in the circles of people I know. I have been able to carve out a successful life living in a feminine world. Without the expense or pain of any operations. To each their own though, I have one dear friend who had her genital realignment surgery postponed at the last possible minute because of the Ohio Covid Virus restrictions on elective surgeries. Daily, I hope for the day she can finally realize her dream of have the gender confirming surgery. Like her, it is easy to get stuck in the complex layers of who we are. 

Before we know it, if we are not careful, we can become transphobic without even realizing it. "

I know I happen across feeling transphobic on social media quite a bit. Especially when I see a series of heavily filtered or doctored up pictures of a certain individual.  Then I step back and realize it was society's pressure on women as a whole to present a good a picture as possible.

Plus I was guilty of the same thing when I was a novice transgender woman.  The picture you see here was one of my earliest attempts at using filters. Even though my main "trick" was to take a picture of myself in a mirror with (as you can see) a lot of hair.

So, as you can tell, I have to look closely at my own feelings when it comes to internalizing my own transphobia.  If I am not careful, bits and pieces of my old male self can bleed through. Recently I have had to force myself into reestablishing my connections with the transgender - cross dresser group I am a member of as well as rejoining a veterans LGBTQ group I was once a part of.  By doing it I can re-engage myself to new people and ideas. In his later years, my Dad essentially became a hermit and I don't want any of that. 

Maybe also you can be a transphobe and not realize it. If you catch yourself thinking you are transer than another person, it's time to take a look at yourself and change. 

Another "Blast" from the Past

Here is another of one of my more popular posts here in Cyrsti's Condo from 2021:

"  Over the years here in Cyrsti's Condo, precious few posts are dedicated to the transgender allies who aided so dramatically in my gender transition. One of the main contributors who I have mentioned is my only child...my daughter. 

As a child, I tried to do my part early in her life to be inclusive. I remember the days I scolded her on the back of the bicycle I rode her to school on. Particularly about how she was treating a boy who was getting bullied.

As she grew up, her mother (first wife) and I became divorced and moved apart. My wife stayed in Ohio while I moved to New York. We became separate but equal parents while my daughter remained the only child and was raised by a village. In other words, she was able to experience life in more than one situation.

All of this contributed to her becoming a determined confident woman with a stable marriage and three children. 

By now you are probably thinking how does any of this have to do with her becoming a steadfast LGBTQ ally with a transgender parent. It all mattered the day I came out to her. This is how it all worked out. I was extremely nervous of course when I invited her to lunch. I quickly told her why I invited her, I was transgender and would be starting hormone replacement therapy soon under a doctors supervision. 

What she said startled even me. She said "Did Mom and her Step Mom know?" I replied partially to both. My daughter only said "Why was she the last to know?" That was it. No rejection of any kind. Needless to say I was relieved because she was the last major person left for me to come out to as transgender. Everyone else who was near and dear to me had passed away except for my brother who is another not so pleasant experience. 

It just so happened also all of this happened near my birthday. As a wonderful gift my daughter offered to pay my way to her hair salon for my first ever color and style. At that point, I didn't know to be more thrilled or scared. Of course I went for it and even have an "after" picture of the experience.

Along the way, I paid many prices to go to the salon. First of all, I was accompanied by my daughter which made me even more nervous with the thought of her previous big brave Dad subjecting to her new self and going through all of this adventure. The second of which was cruel and unusual punishment it seemed. All because the salon was long and narrow and I had to walk through a gauntlet of women who had nothing to do but stare at me. 

After it was all over, I was proud of myself for passing another milestone in my path to woman-hood but I was more proud of my daughter's acceptance of me. She gifted me a gigantic start down the pathway to being my authentic self.

Now, I share a rare acceptance from her family and even her extended family. Needless to say I cherish all of the gifts she has given me. Plus, I have lived long enough to see what I sowed so many years ago grow into such a strong transgender and LGBTQ ally."

Material World

 This actually was posted in 2021 in Cyrsti's Condo but is still relevant today:

And, as Madonna would say, I am a material girl. Then again, don't all of us have to be one way or another? Unless you are living off the grid and probably aren't reading this at all. 

Picture after first hair appointment
Credit: Cyrsti Hart

Actually, I am a very basic transgender woman. Give me a comfortable pair of jeans or leggings, add a tank top and tennis shoes and I am happy and secure as the transgender woman I am. Ironically as basic as I am, I still dress more femininely than my partner Liz who is a cis gender woman. Meaning she was assigned female at birth.

Backtracking a bit, when I first began to explore the feminine world in public, I was much more materialistic. All my accessories such as jewelry, purses, shoes etc. were so much more important to me. All my attention to detail worked too when I was complimented on my appearance by other women. 

All went well until I really started to transition, aided by the effect of hormone replacement therapy. One of the first changes that happened was I was fortunate and my hair really started to grow. So much so that my daughter gifted me my first visit to her upscale hair salon as a birthday present after I had come out to her. The visit remains in my mind as one of the most exciting yet scary experiences of my life as I crossed the gender frontier. Having to walk the "gauntlet" of women who had nothing else to do but to watch and judge me was amazing pressure to say the least. 

I learned too, it was a material world when all of the sudden I was paying to have someone else take care of my hair. My old twenty dollar haircuts at a barber shop were long gone. Also when I was going out, I had to learn there was a back to my head also. All those years of wearing a wig had spoiled me. Of course I could simply turn the wig around on it's stand and brush it out. 

Another of the main problems I faced as I MtF gender transitioned was the cost of trying to maintain two wardrobes. Along the way I was biased because shopping for the feminine side was so much more fun and satisfying. Once I settled into my feminine natural role and quit cross dressing as a guy, of course the costs went down.

I suppose it could be argued we all live in a material world. Transgender women may experience it all in such a unique way. which is nothing different in our overall experience. Once I decided to take the total leap of faith and transition into my authentic feminine life it was as if a giant weight had been taken of my shoulders. I was so tired of fighting my gender dysphoria. 

Finding myself in a material world was well worth it.

Across the Gender Border

 I always argue crossing the binary gender border or frontier is one of more difficult journeys a human being can attempt. In fact, it was so difficult to me, I took over fifty years to do it. 

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Also I always use the excuse during the early stages of my life, finding and experiencing anyone else with the same cross dressing desires as I was nearly impossible. Until the internet came along with chat rooms, information and finally the flood of social media. Even when the world began to open up did I finally begin to sense I was much more than a cross dresser. In other words, I needed to do more than look like a woman, I had to live as one too. 

Once I figured all of that out, I had to figure out how to do it. All of sudden, just being a student of the cis women I interacted with wasn't enough.  

I started my journey innocently enough by going shopping in store and malls. It took awhile for me to realize I wasn't being accepted for my new gender as much as I was being accepted for the power of my money.

Whatever the case, I learned and moved on. Looking back on the process now, I think I had plenty of opportunity to refine my feminine appearance but was scared to death to really communicate with anyone else. One of the biggest problems I had as I attempted to cross the border was learning the differences in how the genders communicated. The more in depth I went, the more I learned how true it was that Men were from Mars and Women were from Venus and where exactly did it leave me as a novice transgender woman. 

Where it left me was, knowing I possessed a unique skill of knowing what each of the binary genders was trying to say. In fact I was flattered when casual female friends would ask me for advice about their men. The process made it easier when I learned the difference between a hard no and a maybe plus the importance of non verbal and visual communication between women. It was a tremendous learning experience period in my life.

Photo by Serhat Beyazkaya on Unsplash

What made the time extra unique was everytime I thought I had arrived at the other end of the gender frontier, I still had farther to go. Then I begin to think of the entire process as climbing walls. Sometimes the walls were short and other times they seemed to be very tall. At the least, my trip through the gender border was anything but easy and is far from over.

Ironically, I feel the last wall I will have to climb will happen if I live long enough to be placed in an assisted living facility and/or nursing home.

I am very paranoid I will have to de-transition to even exist. To combat all of that, I try to stay active in any groups I can possibly join to raise awareness for senior LGBTQ people. 

Just passing to the other side may not be enough when stray bigoted individuals are trying to take away my hard earned gender status.

Fortunately I have a strong support family around me to protect me.

If You "Gotta" Go...

It turns out the Cyrsti's Condo post on using the women's rest room received plenty of reactions.

The first comes from Emily : 

"Using restrooms--confidence is the key. I forced myself to pursue crowded ladies rooms to build that confidence-not easy-takes a long time. do not be furtive as that is a dead giveaway. Emily"  

I definitely agree confidence is the real key to using the restroom. Thanks for the comment!

The second comes from Paula who writes Paula's Place Blog : 

Photo Courtesy Paula

"I have never had any incidents involving rest rooms, but I do have a couple of stories, the very first concert my band played after I transitioned we found that we had two changing rooms, one was allocated for men, the other for women, out of a blend of modesty and embarrassment I was trying to find a loo to get changed in, I must have looked a bit lost and confused because as I walked past a couple of the girls in the band lent out of the changing room grabbed me and told to come in and get changed!

The other was at the "local" of my best friend I had been going in this pub for years before my transition when of course I used the appropriate facilities, afterwards I started using the ladies rest room, nobody ever said anything to me, but I found out later that a couple of people did query this with the landlady ~ who straightened them out after all what man wants a woman trans, or not, Walking through their loo wearing heels and a dress while they're at the urinal? The next time I was in that pub the landlady bought me a drink and came and sat with us, just to shut everyone up."

What a great experience! Common sense such as your landlady showed is all too rare. And finally for this set of comments is Connie's experience:

Photo Courtesy Connie

"I've never had a real problem using the ladies room. The first night I was out in the public, I was with about eight cross dressers from the local trans social club. They decided it would be funny (my initiation?) to have the female server follow me, a few minutes later, into the ladies room and yell out, "There's a man in the ladies room!" I just ignored it, and went about my business. I was pretty sure it was a joke, but I figured it was where I belonged - no matter what anyone else might have thought. When I returned to the table, everyone was laughing at me. I gave them some time to get their yuks, and then asked if anyone there knew where my table was - the one where the ladies were sitting.

 I did have an incident during intermission at the theater, where I felt pressure (intended) to hurry in deference to the other ladies who were waiting in line. In my haste, I had tucked the back of my dress into my pantyhose. Another woman kindly, and discretely, let me know of my faux pa, and everything was just fine......until I noticed the string of toilet paper stuck to the heel of my shoe as I walked back into the lobby.

You can really find who your friends are while using the ladies room. ;-)"

I too have had the toilet paper on the shoe experience and fortunately had another kind woman point it out to me before I left the restroom. I always assumed it was a right of passage for all women.  

Pride Photo
Courtesy JJ 
Hart

One of the great restroom equalizers I have seen occurred during a pre-Covid LGBTQ Pride festival in downtown Cincinnati, Ohio.  The park where it was being held had a free standing, permanent restroom for both genders. On the day of Pride, it was discovered hornets had taken over the men's side leaving only the women's side for everyone to use.  All of a sudden everyone had to put their restroom biases aside and go to the same room. It was comical for me to see all the various personalities "mix it up" while they waited for toilet paper to be passed up and down the line. For once I had been on both ends of the restroom spectrum and didn't care.

It always amazes me how the most basic need of using the restroom stirs up so much passion.