Happy St. Patrick's Day to all of you! May you wear your finest green feminine attire and have a safe good time.
Without a lot of fanfare, Liz and I are going to join several of our transgender friends we haven't seen forever for dinner. For the occasion I have picked out a green sweater I have had for some time.
To my knowledge I am not Irish but I certainly will take advantage of any of the luck which happens to come my way!
So many gender dysphoric individuals sadly have to put up with the effects of bullying when they grow up. The process is capable of scarring them throughout their lives.
Ironically, effeminate boys and men on occasion transition into the most natural women so it's the age old "give and take" story.
As we all know, there are as many forms of bullying as there are different forms of human beings. Children can be emotionally abused all the way to being verbally abused. Even resulting in physical trauma. Plus there is religious bullying which I don't even want to discuss.
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| Photo by Morgan Basham on Unsplash |
Once I hit the high school years, I transferred to a new much bigger school and was faced with making new friends. Again back where I lived in the early 1960's, schools were still years away from having any sort of LGBTQ clubs or organizations. No where to meet like mined individuals, even if I would have been brave enough to do it. What happened was I did meet a few others I as able to form friendships with. Although none I knew of who shared my gender dysphoria. Of course I didn't have a name for it. All I knew was somedays I woke up desperately wanting to be a girl and it was slowing dawning on me I didn't want a girl sexually...I wanted to be her physically.
Through it all, I was able to escape the bullies and essentially disappear into the overall mass of students. Plus I did over compensate and played on the high school football team until I broke an ankle. Not the fashion accessory I was looking for.
The problem was I didn't really know what I was looking for. I was too shy to even ask a girl for a date but then would go home and if I was alone dress up like her, But I thought I needed to try to date a girl to once again prove to my family and friends I was a masculine person. I solved the problem by letting some of the girls in high school I barely knew set me up with a date to the schools' junior prom. I thought the whole process would once again solidify my maleness and set me up for success as a male. The whole process once again would keep the bullies away and even help me if one of my two stashes of feminine clothes and makeup was discovered.
It breaks my heart to read about transgender or gay youth who are not supported by their families. There is so much more information available today to aid in their lives.
As far as bullies are concerned, I fear they are as human as the species goes. After all, human beings are an Apex predator and like sharks, smell blood in the water. The real parenting challenge comes in not raising a child to be a bully.
However you survived bullies in your life, I hope you were finally able to escape all the negative problems which may still plaque you. I know I still have the resulting fear of being laughed at when I am out and about. It's frustrating because one way or another I was able to escape the problems of being bullied.
When I look back on my fifty plus years of my life as a gender dysphoric person, I wonder why I did certain things. Many times I manage to come up with these memories in the middle of the night when I can't sleep. Along the way also, I try to come up with ideas for another post.
One of the most problematic times of my cross dressing life came when I became able to purchase different kinds of wigs. Similar to a kid in a candy store, I became addicted to deciding when and where to look for and buy new wigs. Sadly I was still in my "big" hair faze and ended up trying to buy and then wear the biggest hair pieces in the store. I persisted even though I had several clerks try to tell me I was making the wrong choice.
Of course what was good enough for Halloween wasn't good enough for everyday life. What made matters even worse was when I first started to go out I would use a different name to match the wig I was wearing. For example (as I have written about before) I was Roxy when I wore my big blond wig and Darcy when I was wearing my dark wigs.
My collection also wasn't limited to big curly styles, I purchased a long dark wig once which actually matched my own hair color at the time. It was very thick and straight and resisted my attempts to ruin it. There were several good endings wearing that wig when I wore it on a girls night out with a group of servers from a regular sports bar venue I
Through it all I finally settled on a longish straight blond wig which was slightly longer than shoulder length. It wasn't till then I settled down to being the same feminine person as much as I could, without the clown hair. It enabled the public who I was beginning to meet frequently to settle in on seeing the same person.
One regret I do have is that I didn't save all the money on the wigs I did buy and invest in a a good/quality hairpiece. My excuse is I was still searching for the transgender person I was to become.
Now of course I am one of the lucky transgender women who does not suffer from any male pattern baldness. I have been able with the assistance of HRT to grow a full head of long wavy hair. Which is the envy of my daughter who has commented why she didn't inherit my hair.
Unfortunately, my experience with wigs wasn't the only ill advised stunt I tried when I transitioned but often it was the most visible one.
Recently I wrote on the aspects of hormone replacement therapy and how I considered beginning HRT as the line I crossed when I went from being a cross dresser to a novice transgender woman. At the time I thought crossing the line would be the only gender transition I would undertake. Needless to say, I was really wrong.
Basically what happened was, the more I learned about existing in the feminine world, the more natural I felt and the more I wanted to learn more. In a relatively short period of time I was able to begin a life as a fulltime transgender woman. Before I could, I found there were other transitions I had to make.
The first was deciding the basic idea of exactly what I was. Was I truly a woman or a transgender woman. For the longest time I was content in thinking of myself as sort of a gender hybrid. As the years went by and I lived more and more, I finally decided I deserved the "woman" label as much as the next person who was socialized into it. Just because they were born female. I too went through the comments here on the blog regarding the description of a woman was somehow tied into childbirth. I knew that to be so much trash talk because many women can't have children medically, or want one such as my second wife. Did it make her any less of a woman? I don't think so.
As time went by also and I was approaching the point when I conceivably could go "stealth" I transitioned to the point where I didn't really care what most anybody thought about my gender anyway. Outside of a few very isolated circumstances, I had transitioned into what I thought was gender nirvana or the ultimate confidence of believing who I am.
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| Photo by Faris Mohammed on Unsplash |
Perhaps regular reader Paula said it best when she wrote in and commented she essentially had passed the point of just considering herself a woman. All the way to believing in herself as a person.
In other words, Paula is just herself along with her many interests such as being a musician. When you are yourself, it leaves others to have no choice but to believe in you too. If they don't...buh bye.
Call a gender transition what you like. A series of challenges, stairs to climb or even walls to scale. It's all dealing in semantics but then again so real to a transgender woman or man.
As I reach this point of my life (72 years old) my biggest blessing is to have my health for the most part which allows me to continue on my HRT. Syncing my inner female who has always been there pushing to live with my external self which the world sees has helped me tremendously.
Hopefully I can continue this gender transition I am on as I reach the point of the final transition.
Last night we moved our clocks forward here in Ohio since for better or for worse we are on Daylight Savings Time. In other words we lose an hour of sleep in the Spring and we get it back in the fall.
Saturday nights I also stay up to watch Saturday Night Live. The bottom line is I didn't get much sleep last night so I am going to leave you with simple words of inspiration:
What they don't understand is we are a strong, resilient tribe and we will survive.
Yesterday was one of the days I was scheduled to change my synthetic Estrogen patches. Every now and then I pause to remember all the changes I have gone through over the years.
I usually hesitate to write about the HRT process because hormone replacement therapy is such a unique topic. In other words, it can vary so much between individuals. Age, dosage and current physical condition all factor in. HRT is certainly not for everyone and should not be undertaken without the help of a medical professional. As I set my usual disclaimer aside, it's time to describe my own personal hormonal gender journey for those of you who may be considering it.
At the very beginning, I can only describe myself as a very serious cross dresser. I normally tried to sooth my extreme gender dysphoria by dressing as a woman two or even three times a week. Through all of it deep down I knew living with feet in both of the binary genders was never going to be a long term solution to my gender questions .I also knew adding synthetic estrogen to my body was going to be my next logical step towards rebuilding my life as a novice transgender woman.
Before I did I had to be checked out by a family doctor who I heard of through the grapevine. He was a LGBT friendly physician in the Dayton, Ohio area. By this time, my wife had passed away and I was free to take what gender action I wanted to transition or not. Of course you know that I did and the appointment was made.
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| Photo Courtesy: During my CD days Jessie Hart |
More would come. This time compliments of the Veteran's Administration. At this time, I was experiencing severe financial problems and had lost my regular health insurance. I desperately needed the health care the VA offered. For the most part, free to me for my service in the military. To continue my hormone replacement therapy with the VA, I had to go back through the process of seeing a doctor, including a therapist. I was fortunate in that the therapist who was assigned to me had a basis of knowledge of transgender and/or gender dysphoric individuals. She promptly wrote me a letter of acceptance and it was up to me to do the rest.
I did have a bump in the road when the VA hospital I was a patient of did not have an endocrinologist to monitor my meds. It took awhile but I finally received approval to see an Endo doc outside of the Va which they would pay for. Once I got used to seeing him, I was able to move back into the VA system for monitoring until I was diagnosed with a liver problem and again was taken off my hormones.
The liver problem was conquered and I was allowed to resume my HRT. The good news was I was able to increase my dosages and change to patches to save extra wear and tear on my liver.
The increased dosage began the changes I had longed hope for. My face began to soften along with my skin. Body hair started to thin (except for my beard) and my breasts really started to grow. All of those changes couldn't compare with my inner changes. I will never forget my first hot flash when I was sitting in a sports bar sipping on a beer. I was sure I was going to internally combust! Then, there were the tears. During my male life, I rarely, if at all ever cried. Now I can cry over bad and good things. What a change.
As I look back, I still consider hormone replacement therapy was the second of several major gender transitions I went through. Just when I thought there were only two transitions, I found myself going through another.
More on that later in another post.
Over the years and especially in the very beginning, I worked very hard to achieve my validation as a transgender woman. Or, better yet, being validated as a woman at all. To arrive at where I desperately wanted to be, I had to go through many steps...literally. My example is was when I would practice walking femininely when I perceived I was reasonably alone in larger venues such as big box stores. Even though I was fairly certain I was not being observed, I am sure I probably made a security person's night on occasion. Regardless, I was obsessed with all things feminine.
My obsession's of course led me into all sorts of clothes and fashion accessories. Money became the biggest concern before and after my wife's death. Before she passed away, I saved all the change and extra money I could to sneak out and shop for new clothes which I was certain would enable me to become the desirable feminine person of my dreams. I became very good at shopping discount racks at stores and going to thrift stores hunting for bargains. The mirrors in more than a few of these stores became my instant friend, for better or for worse. Another example was a powder blue wool coat I fell madly in love with at a certain coat warehouse store. I went back so many times to try it on I am surprised I didn't get asked to leave. Sadly, I was never able to afford the coat.
Once I was able to afford a few cherished articles of feminine attire, I had to decide how "cherished" they really were and where I was going to hide them from my wife at home, It took me awhile to gather up the courage to use the women's dressing room, so even though I was getting better at sizes, it was still basically taking chances on which clothing's sizes would actually fit. What I mean is, one company's large would be another companies' medium. Plus, I had to go through my "teen girl" years when I tried to wear everything too short or too tight. It was no way to be validated anywhere but in the mirror which was lying to me.
Now, lets get back to where I could actually put the items I purchased. Fortunately we lived in a big two story 1860's brick I was restoring, so we had plenty of storage space in out of the way closets. Closets that for some reason my wife never looked in. If she had, I am sure all hell would have broken loose if she had discovered the short, flirty tennis outfit I had put together to wear to the mall. All in all I think I probably ended up with three storage closets for my ever increasing wardrobe.
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| Photo Courtesy Jessie Hart |
For me, a large part of my transgender validation now comes from the fact my breasts, hair and hips are all mine, From hormone replacement therapy of course.
I still believe the tipping point for me in my validation came when I discovered I should be dressing for other women, not men. By doing so, I could blend in much easier with society and be accepted. Once I reached that point, my life as a novice transgender woman became clearer.
Being human (I think) the fascinating part of all of this comes from the fact we are all different. More and more I am learning about couples staying together as one of them transitions. Yet, there are so many others who are forced to face the task of crossing the gender border to play in the sandbox by themselves. Thus the points of validating your transgender self can be a highly fluid process.
It's too bad the path to transgender validation can't be easier and more enjoyable. Not one of the most difficult journeys a human can take.
For years I have thought of the many times I went out into a feminine world to explore the possibility of living full time as a transgender woman. The more I did it, the more natural it became. In essense I learned fairly quickly I could exist in a feminine world.
After my wife passed away and I started hormone replacement therapy, I became very lonely. To battle being alone, I essentially did what I called going out to be alone. Because I rarely interacted in the beginning with anyone until I began to form a whole new circle of friends. As I look back, I found I needed a better way to express what I was doing.
Finally I came up with this blinding reality. I was slowing becoming my own "side chick." Unfortunately for me it all starred when my wife was still alive. During all the nights I was out and about cross dressed as a woman when she was still at work. Those were the days when my self esteem as a man was at an all time low due to all the lying I was doing to her when at the same time my self esteem as a novice transgender woman was growing by leaps and bounds. All in all, it was a process I couldn't maintain. Living life with a foot in each of the binary genders was killing me.
Becoming my own "side chick" definitely came with it's own set of ups and downs. I started the process by going to so called "safe" places such as predominately male gay venues. I found out quickly I wasn't really accepted there either. Plus I didn't like the music much anyhow. At that point I began to seek out two of the smaller lesbian bars which were relatively close to me. At one of them, they hated me but at the other I was accepted and had several interesting experiences. Which I will save for another post.
From the lesbian venues, I began to pull up my big girl panties by going to two of the big sports bars I used to frequent as a guy. All proceeded well as I slowly began to know several of the bartenders and or servers who looked out for me. The problem was I was a single woman in a venue which normally attracted many men. Many times, the trick I used to act like I was expecting company was to pull out my cell phone as if I was going to have a call.
Even though being my own "side chick" was working for me, nothing could help when my wife passed away. Naturally I was very lonely and had pretty much been a social person for most of my life. Destiny was about to work in my direction and rescue me. The first big happening occurred when one of the bartenders I knew asked me if I would like to have a casual drink with her single mother. It all worked out very well and we remain friends to this day and I think of her daily.
The second major meetup happened when another woman came into the sports bar to pick up a carryout order and slid me a note down the bar. The three of us used to get together at least once a week and even attended several lesbian mixers together. Good times!
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| Photo Courtesy Jessie Hart |
As I look back on my "side chick " days the memories are certainly bittersweet. They were times of extremely terrifying yet exciting experiences as I was discovering all my authentic gender self had to offer.
Rest in peace side chick...hello real world.
This comment comes from Connie when I referred to her post about being called a "monumental woman"
"Being a “Monumental Woman” should be embraced. When the man in the grocery store called me that, I wasn’t, immediately, sure what he meant by it. It seemed to have been presented as a compliment, although it bordered on being a bit inappropriate. I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean that I strikingly resembled the Statue of Liberty, or that my face should be carved into the wall of Mt. Rushmore. Nevertheless, it did give cause for some self-reflection.
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| Photo Courtesy : Connie Malone |
Image from Jimmy Conover on UnSplash As I transitioned from my very active male self into an accomplished transgender woman, there were man...
