Awards in the "Nati"

 It's always nice to be awarded for my blogging efforts here in Cyrsti's Condo and on the Medium writers format. 

Actually I have received two awards now on Medium. The first was for my desire to write for the LGBTQ community and the second was a bit of a surprise. Recently I was given an award for fashion. 

As you regulars know, I don't spend much time writing anymore concerning what I wear. In fact, if I spend much time reviewing many of my older blog posts, I spent much more time explaining what I wore to do my best presenting my exterior self in a new (to me) exciting feminine world. 

At that point I began to think was there such a thing as transgender fashion? Quickly I began to understand there was. If you follow Stana at the Femulate blog who may be the ultimate transgender fashionista or me who is comfortable in jeans and sweaters, we all have the same thing in common. A desire to blend in with or even out do our cis women acquaintances. Many times we have to be better to even be able to exist as our authentic selves. In fact, my two wives on occasion both asked me for help with their make up. My current partner Liz doesn't need any help because she was a former Avon sales person. 

Let us not forget hair as part of our overall appearance and there is a definite reason most all cis women spend so much time, effort and money on their hair during a lifetime. As an example, all the responses I received from my post on wigs. Easily one of the most well received posts I have ever received, thanks to you all!

Speaking (or writing) of people writing in and commenting which is a relative rarity compared to how many "hits" or visits I receive. Even rarer is when I receive a comment who does live, or has visited  the metro Cincinnati, Ohio area. Take this comment from Velma for example on the post I wrote on "toxic masculinity." 

FYI, the "Nati" is another term for the city of Cincinnati where I live. It is also known as the "Queen City." Another slang term which once was  used was "Hamil-tucky" which refers to our border with Northern Kentucky. With all the recent development in the metro area, the term is becoming very outmoded. .Before I regress any farther here is Velma's comment:

" I was compelled to write after I read your profile and found you lived in Hamil-Tucky County, Ohio.My sister used to live there, and I LIKE Cinci, but, yeah, I have seen THAT side of The Queen(?-really-?) City.

I have seen plenty of same here in NC. Here we gots 'Carolina Squat' pickups.
Too many men merely mimic their best idea of what the image of MASCULINITY is, appearance wise, rather than being who they truly are.

It seems that these men are simply posturing to each other to 'gain rank/standing inside their work group.
And, the PAYOFF IS......?
As the saying goes:
"All HAT and no cattle".
Or, how's about:
'everyone is transmitting machismo, but no one has remembered to turn on the receiver.
The question begs it self: Are the women paying attention to such image and posturing?
Doubtful."

Thanks Velma! Your comment brings up a great point, by having the biggest pickup truck are men dressing for other men? Well yes they are! I agree with you Velma, most women don't get the connection. A comment for another post.

Also thanks to "Medium" for the award!

  

Toxic Masculinity and the Trans Girl

Over the years when I was trying my best to exist in an ultra masculine world, I encountered too many men who would have been described as being toxic masculine. In essence they were the ones who tended to dismiss women as basically only emotional people who were only good for sex and/or having kids. 

I can truthfully say I wasn't an active part of their mentality but on the other hand was ashamed when I went along with their childish actions. I had two excuses. The first was in the business I was in I had to manage to the best of my ability a group of macho redneck cooks in a kitchen. I had to appear tough. The second was on the other hand I had to manage a group of mainly female servers, hostesses and bar tenders. Even then I was studying women intensely to learn how they really maintained in society so in many ways it was a labor of love. I learned my guys in the kitchen worked better when I could manage them as a team and the women worked better when I understood they were going to form their cliques anyhow, so adapt to them and hope for the best.

Further more I had to watch for frontal confrontations from the men and passive attacks from the women. Lessons which would serve me well later as I transitioned genders.  

Lessons I wish I had paid attention to didn't take long to happen. One night very early in my transition I found myself with a group of men discussing a topic I considered myself to be well versed in. Very early they shut me totally out as if I was never there at all. I thought it was one of my first opportunities to learn first hand what my life was going to be like as a transgender woman. I was right and on the other hand, my lessons learned from my work world worked well too. 

I also learned quickly the amount of  non verbal communication women use. It is no wonder most men say they can't understand women when they can't pick up non verbal cues. 

Photo by Icons8 Team on Unsplash

Ironically I had to change my stereotype of what a toxic man even looked like. When I began to explore the world, I attempted to stay clear of any man who looked like the macho type. not unlike my former self. It got so bad I couldn't even try to buy tickets for a sports event from a street "scalper" because they thought I was a cop. Slowly but surely I learned many of the "macho" men didn't seem to care much about me at all and weren't going to verbally attack me. My theory was they were more secure in their sexuality than the normal man. 

Of course recent political activities have made it possible for toxic masculinity to come out of the shadows and even thrive in some areas. Unfortunately the trans community, women and men, has been potentially the hardest hit. The attacks aren't just coming from cis men, they are coming from cis women as well.    

The future is not a given for anybody. Especially not the trans girl.  As always we are going to have to be better and fight for what we have.

Wigging Out

 Recently I wrote a post which detailed a few of my trials and tribulations I experienced with wigs before I was able to grow my own hair to a feminine length. Ironically, one of the first things I noticed was all of the sudden I had to somehow see the back of my head to check out my hair. No more easy out by using a wig head and stand. 

I received plenty of responses by readers who commented on their own wig experiences. Including Monica who currently is up to owning five wigs. I am sure at my height of "wigging out" I owned many more than that, so I understand the attraction. After all, wigs are a natural extension of our makeup and seemingly (at least for me) there was always another wig which would take me to the promised land and I would become the attractive feminine person I always wanted to be. Plus, I feel I was attempting to overcome the days of financial challenges when I couldn't afford much at all when it came to a hairpiece. 

It turns out, I wasn't alone when it came to being a struggling novice transgender woman on the search for the best possible hair. As has happened many times over the span of our lives, Connie and I share quite a similar history:

"At the age of 34, I was married with two young daughters. We’d just bought a house, and I was anxious to fix up the unfinished basement to make an office for my part-time business, as well as shelving for storing all of those seldomly used things, such as holiday decorations. I’d already put a door with a lock on it for my office, and then, late one night, I started organizing things on the shelves. When I got to the Halloween box, I took a peek inside. There it was: that black wig, along with all sorts of makeup. Now, I had worn that wig a few times on Halloween before, but it had been part of a monster-type of costume when I had. On this night, though, it brought back every memory of my feminine-self. I took the whole box, along with an old mirror that was in the basement, into my new office and locked the door behind me. Doing the best I could with what was available, I put the wig on my head and made up my face. Looking at myself in the mirror, I remember whispering, “You can do so much better than this.”

Photo Courtesy Connie Malone

Money was a little tight after just having had bought a house, but it was probably more on my mind to rebuild a feminine wardrobe and accessories as cheaply as possible out of my renewed guilt. My wife had a basket full of makeup that she’d given up on, so I could easily take what I needed from that. I ordered a dress, a pair of heels, and some undergarments from the Sears catalogue, which I could discreetly pick up at the store’s will call. A new wig, though, was more difficult to find without, I thought, outing myself. Somehow, I discovered that K-Mart sold wigs, so I got what I determined to be the best one that was available at the time. It was brown in color, just as my mother’s wigs were, and somewhat contemporary in style (as contemporary and stylish as one might expect to find at K-Mart, anyway). I remember shunning the blonde wig, at the time, as I thought it to be “overdoing it.” I bought that wig, along with a set of wrenches as an attempted cover, and thus began my return to the pursuit of womanhood."

Thanks for the comment! It's amazing to me how the slightest trigger object can lead us back into fond memories of our feminine pasts. Mine was a long blond wig I fell in love with and managed to buy for my then fiancé. She wouldn't wear it but of course I would. That hairpiece managed to stay with me for many years. Even surviving my time in the military and several ill fated "purges" I attempted when I resolved myself to never cross dress again. That really worked out! I haven't cross dressed as a man for nearly a decade. 

I can't make the point enough. I am so lucky to have been able to grow a full head of hair. Now I have to get back to a salon and let a hairdressing professional take care of it. Before it begins to appear as if I have been wigging out.  

Just Passing Thru

 Over the past several days and weeks I have happened along several acquaintances I made over the years. Of course when you get to be my age (72) the opportunity grows to have more people who have just passed through your life. Then again too, I wonder about some of them making a larger influence on my life. 

In the middle of it all was my twenty five year relationship with my deceased wife, my five year relationship with my first wife and my current relationship which is going strong at nearly eleven years. I guess you can say if nothing else I have been loyal. As I think about all the others is when I get bogged down with all the "what if's". What if the woman I met in a Columbus Ohio lesbian bar and went to a party with wanted to see me again? Similar to the date I had with a guy in Dayton, Ohio? I could go on and on  The differences were my wife was still very much alive when I met the first woman and I really couldn't visualize myself with anyone else but the guy was much different. I was on my own and actively exploring my own sexuality. In essence I was all over the gender spectrum although I still knew I liked women. The allure of having validation from the male gender was powerful also.

As life has a way of doing, many times it is like water. If you let it go, it will find it's own level. For me that level was feminine. It seems the more I tried to find a male companion, the easier it was to find a female one. Much more than when I was completely in the world cross dressing as a man. Maybe the women I was around then could sense I was a mess. 

Photo from Unsplash

Since I was a mess, I had very few male "friends." I spent my life guarding myself from the world so most people just were passing thru. 

I think too, we transgender people have more of a chance to have more people just pass thru our lives. Primarily because early on we are so guarded and later because we start all over attempting to build new lives. Many times the process dictates a whole new set of people just passing thru.

Another problem is when transgender women or men become successful in entering society many of them leave the transgender or LGBTQ group they were part of.  So there goes another group of acquaintances. 

It's difficult for me to even compare if I had had the opportunity to live a mainstream life if I would have had more or less of the same people just passing thru. Maybe it isn't as important as it was to me when I thought of it when I couldn't sleep last night. I just can't help but wonder what happened to certain people who just passed me by so quickly as my life sped by. 

Transgender Freedom

Is there something called transgender freedom?  Some I sure would argue no, which I believe I would have to agree with. You may ask why if you read my recent post on transgender boredom which I actually experienced after going out two nights in a row without experiencing any negative feedback, So, by now you are thinking what is the problem.

The problem is I have never been able to accept success much at all. Especially with my gender issues. Once I arrived at a certain point in my transition, I always thought there had to be more. In my pursuit to find more, often I found myself in over my head. A prime example was the night I was in a sports tavern I thought I was safe in and several men decided to make my life miserable by playing "Dude Looks Like a Lady" over and over again on the juke box until the manager asked me to leave. I got my revenge weeks later when he got fired and several servers found me down the street in another venue I was a regular in and asked me to come back. I look at the experience two ways. First of all, it was a big hot mess of excitement and terror to do what I did at all and secondly I was lucky nothing more than my feelings were ultimately hurt.

Shortly after that I was able to work with my new found transgender freedom in new ways. By doing so I found a new circle of friends including the one I write about all the time. As it turned out, the others were different and interesting to be around too. Those were the friends who came so close to inviting me to a bachelorette party and included the motorcycle guy who took a liking to me. To make long stories short, the bachelorette party never happened and the motorcycle guy moved away shortly after his failed marriage to a wild woman in the group who was a hairdresser and exotic dancer. The one thing you never know about your freedom is when it is going to give you a gift or take it away. 

Little did I know, all of this sudden freedom I had acquired after my wife passed away was going to lead me to new and wonderful feminine transgender experiences. This was when I went through what only can be called a period of advanced trans experiences.  Or, for those of you who prefer abbreviations, ATE. To be sure I eagerly "ate" up all the culture I could as I was learning how it was to communicate and live full time as a woman. Little did I know how right my wife was everytime she told me there was more to being a woman than becoming the "pretty pretty princess" a couple days a week. Once again, it wasn't until after she departed and I started to play in the girls sandbox  did I discover how right she was. I sustained many scratches and set backs before I earned my spot in the sandbox. The photo you see above was from that period in my life.

It was approximately this time of my life when I took my friend Connie's advice and started writing about my experiences. My goral then as it still is all these years later is to provide help and input to anyone I can through my blog. 

Even though I have reached a point of boredom in my public presentation, I still don't consider my transgender freedom to be a done deal. At this point of my life I still have my final years to look forward to. I am fairly sure that once again I will have to fight for my gender freedoms again. On the positive side, I will be used to it. 

And, while I am on the subject, those of you just beginning your journey. Rest assured the trip will be worth it. Just take advantage of all the stops along the way to catch your breath and continue when you can. 

Your freedom as your authentic self awaits. 

Photo Shoot

 This is one of those experiences which came from being in the right place at the right time, which never was one of my strong points during my gender transition. Plus, it happened approximately seven years ago so I have a difficult time thinking it ever happened at all. 

It all started innocently enough when Liz and I went to what can only be described as a working artist/crafters mall. It was/is located in a vintage brick shoe factory in downtown Cincinnati. My partner Liz is a quality crafter and was keenly interested in what the many shops had to offer.

As we slowly made our way through the venue, we came across a photographer and her friend who just happened to be putting together an album of the different types of women they could find. Then their effort would be judged in Chicago by another group. Before I knew it, they were strongly suggesting I should become a part of their photo shoot. 

Of course I was flattered they wanted me to be a part of their compilation. And thought it was a great idea to include a transgender woman as one of the different women who can be found in the world. But then the doubts and misgivings began to filter in. What would I wear to the photo shoot? How much makeup should I wear were just two questions I had. My fears were not justified though when they gave me instructions on what to wear, including makeup.

In a short period of time, I found myself being photographed by a real live professional. While I loved the attention, I was scared to death! How would the pictures portray me and how would my gender dysphoria react. Before I knew it, my time as a photography model was over and I headed home.

It took a couple weeks before I saw the results and I was indeed disappointed. Somehow I thought I would look better but what you see is what you get. I used to have the exact pictures they shared with me but try as I might I can't find one. So, the one I shared in this post is close to the same time period of my life.

None ot it mattered as the entry they put together and sent on to the Chicago competition didn't win anyhow. 

My input wasn't over though as I as well the other models were invited to a gallery presentation here in Cincinnati. When I went, I promptly made my presence known by spilling a glass of wine all over the catering table.

Even though we didn't win any prizes, I will always remember my all too brief role as a photo shoot model in 2015.

Boredom?

 Over the years of transitioning across the transgender border, I never considered I would ever arrive at a point where I would be on the verge of boredom. But  my partner Liz and I went out again last night which made it two nights in a row and my idea of boredom began to change. As unamazing as it all was, nothing happened. No stares, no comments...no anything which would allow me to think I was perceived as anything but the woman I always have wanted to become.

Photo by Jen Theodore on Unsplash
NOT of me.

 Similar to many milestones in my transgender life, I remember vividly thinking in the middle of dinner I better start paying extra attention to Liz because for once I didn't have any other outside influences to distract me.

The only thing which did occur to me was it past time for me to go stealth. By stealth I mean, hiding all vestiges of my previous life as a guy. 

Truly I have considered a stealth life for years. Mainly because I am perceived at home as a woman by Liz and her son anyhow. Plus by my daughter and by many friends, so anyone else doesn't matter to me anyway. Also with the advent of Covid restrictions over the past several years, we decided not to go out and face the risks anyhow. Even though we were fully vaccinated. 

The whole process is most likely a natural one which I have addressed here before. First, you suffer from a severe gender dysphoria when you are not sure which gender you feel natural with. Then you embark down a gender road to decide who you really are. Which can be a difficult process. In fact I met a transgender person the other night who was thinking of reversing the process she had already gone through. The problem  I see with any gender de- transition is many times it is done because of another person or persons usually from a family. The transgender person is stuck between a rock and a hard place. Especially if they are younger and are faced with building a life as their authentic self. 

Fortunately, at my age, it's not a problem I face.  I have gone through the questioning phase of my gender dysphoria and finally decided I have become more than a gender. I am now just another person trying my best to look nice. No different than any other woman. 

The boredom I experienced last night is no more than another phase.

Party Down

Last night proved to be a wonderful time. For the first time in many days, my partner Liz and I were able to go out and enjoy ourselves. 

Even though it was St. Patrick's Day, the venue we were meeting several other transgender women in was fairly quiet. I was able to enjoy a pint of Guinness stout ale along with corned beef, potatoes and cabbage. Nothing more Irish than that!

Photo Courtesy JJ Hart

Since the place was fairly quiet, I was even able to hear the conversations around the table. One in particular was wonderful when the transgender woman told us the story of her being accepted by her children. In typical trans style, she was always thinking of the possibility they may not.

In many ways, it is incredibly sad when acceptance is the major topic when trans people gather. But it was a sign of the times last night (I hope)when no one else paid us any undue attention. What helped also was we were in a relatively liberal upscale suburb of Cincinnati. As in true with many metro/urban areas, once you find yourself very far outside city limits, the attitudes can change...quickly. 

Plus, there is safety in numbers. Especially with novice transgender women and men. Lynnea mentioned it when she wrote in and commented on the "Were you Bullied" post:

"Escape from bullying takes different forms. Here are some I've employed:

Escape into dreams. I accepted the isolation and kept to my own world of thoughts, books, and even the dreams of the night.

Escape into a clique. I sometimes think "schooling" is so called because you have to find a group in which to make yourself less likely for attack like the schooling of fish.

Escape into another locality. I went to high school outside my district because I would probably have been murdered otherwise.

Escape through expulsion. My own family expelled me from their circle after decades of gross vilification for not accepting their bigotries. I'm better off not having them in my life anyway.

Escape through homelessness. As serious as this state of hardship has been, I did eventually gain a home. Walking away from an abusive environment and living on the streets was preferable to the abuse."

As I pivot away from my original post, it's time to share another comment on being bullied from Deborah :

"Yes, I was bullied in various ways. Even into my 20s. I couldn't face my gender dysphoria. It forces us into a dark cave, repressing feelings. At 71 I am still unpacking these feelings. Just retired last year... At last! Time to feel and be! --"

I suppose in many ways, just having the freedom to party down can show us the path to our own freedom from gender dysphoria.

I have received so many comments especially on the hair post I wrote and others, I am going to try to respond as soon as I can. In the meantime, I hope you are seeing the light in your gender tunnel and it isn't the train. 

The Luck of the Irish

 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!