Growing up Dysphoric

I may be biased but I can't think of anything worse than growing up with a massive case of gender dysphoria. Of course the problem was compounded by growing up in the pre-internet, pre social media era. Unless you were fortunate enough to discover and subscribe to Virginia Princes' Transvestia magazine, you were basically cut off from the rest of the gender dysphoric world. In other words, the dark ages of locating any gender support at all. Dark times indeed for those of us stuck in our closets wondering if we were the only one anywhere who wanted to express themselves as the other binary gender.

Through it all, I felt I wouldn't wish my gender dysphoric impulses on anyone. There were so many times in my life I wished I could go back to being a man full time. After all I had spent so much time and effort to survive as something I wasn't, it seemed so unfair I couldn't enjoy any of the fun aspects of being a man. As time went on, the more time I tried existing as a man I was suffering from a severe case of impostor syndrome. The more time I spent discovering my authentic feminine self, the more natural and detached I felt from the masculine self I had tried so hard to become a part of. Try as I might I just couldn't feel natural around a group of men doing stereotypical men things.

I tried along the way to live with a foot in each of the binary genders or how I could exist and live equal time as a man and a woman. Naturally it didn't work as I encountered all sorts of problems remembering which gender I was operating as. Plus another problem arose when I began to feel much more natural as a woman, which led to me having an extra amount of resentment towards having to try to be a man at all. To make a long story short the whole ugly process led me to attempt a self harm attempt (suicide). It obviously wasn't successful and ultimately forced me down the path of least resistance...a path to being a full time transgender woman.

Even though I eventually reached my feminine dream I still have to live with the scars of growing up with gender dysphoria. I still wake up every morning seeking the reassurance of having my own long hair and breasts. Every little bit helps to remind me I am finally living my dream. Even still, I still wonder what it would have been like to grow up as a guy who didn't want to become a woman. 

It will be a secret I won't know until I make the final transition to the other side. Maybe then I will find out why I was chosen to learn how both genders live and exist. Maybe I was blessed or cursed.    

Lessons Learned

"Club" Photo Courtesy Cyrsti Hart 

Years ago there used to be a venue in Dayton, Ohio called "Celebrity". It was a huge converted super club which I happened to patronize a couple of times when I took a date to a prom. 

Years passed by and I advanced my feminine technique far enough I couldn't wait to make the short trip to return. When I did make it, I was fascinated with all the opportunities.  The club featured a wide variety of gay men to drag queens to cross dressers and the occasional sprinkling in of "admirers" or those men who desired men dressed as women. 

Perhaps the earliest lesson I learned was how different I was from the drag queens who frequented the venue. While many were totally attractive there were just as many who came off as caricatures of cis-women. 

Through it all, I was intrigued by the attention I received from the occasional admirer. Mostly they wanted me to shoot pool with them. Probably so they could watch me navigate the table in my short tight mini skirt I was fond of wearing. Back in those days I felt trashy or so called sexy clothing was the way to validate myself as a woman. Plus everyone told me I had great legs, why not take advantage in the way I felt. The problem arose when I had to learn to wear the mini skirts. I found out one night first hand when a man insisted I watch their game when I refused to actually play. He pulled up what amounted to no more than a bar stool for me to perch on during the pool match. It only worked for a short time until I became uncomfortable and moved on. 

All in all the whole experience left me mostly confused. I was in the early stages of realizing I wasn't looking from attention from a man but loved it when it came from a woman. It was rare there were any other lesbians in the venue so I had very few opportunities to find any other women to attempt to interact with. 

Celebrity Signage

There were a few other cross dressers and/or transgender women who frequented the venue. Many of them were from a Dayton group who were decidedly unfriendly. So I left them alone. Another lesson learned. Just because others shared my desire to be feminine didn't mean their attitudes changed for the better. 

Most likely the highlight of going to the venue had to do with using the ladies room. When I did, I was fairly sure the décor hadn't changed since my prom date did years before. For whatever reason, the experience made up for my other resentments. after all  she was the one who was able to wear the beautiful dress and wear the fresh corsage. 

The whole experience helped me to grow past the initial steps of coming out in a feminine world. Little did I know then how many more there were to come.  

Is the Other Grass Greener?

As we follow our journeys to our authentic transgender selves, often we mistake the gender grass for cis-gender women to be greener. By "cis-gender" I mean humans who were born biological females. 

As transgender women we automatically believe the amount of feedback our cis gendered sisters helped them grow into the women they became. The subject came up in our household last night as my

Photo by Amy Shamblen on Unsplash

partner Liz tearfully recounted how the restrictions her Mother placed on her still effect her to this day. Examples include everything from not being allowed to wear makeup all the way to being discouraged from taking ballet lessons. The makeup effected her because her friends were allowed to wear it, the ballet because Liz was larger than many of the other dancers. All of this has influenced her life to this day. 

All of this happened when she read a post from a transgender woman friend of mine bemoaning the fact she never was able to experience the joys of girl hood. From makeup to frilly dresses. I know I feel the same way, specifically at Christmas when my girl cousins were so pretty and feminine in their dresses when I was stuck in a starched shirt and often a hated tie. Little did I know perhaps they didn't want to 

wear those dresses. 

Girls fighting with their Mom's I found was nothing new. In fact my daughter the other day pointed out how long she had to wait to have her ears pierced. She was blocked by my wife (her step Mother) at the time who was very conservative. Her views on makeup and clothes led to many fights between us and I don't think she ever approved of how I looked. Since she has since passed away, I will never find out. I can only say I did try my best to dress down on all the occasions I went out with her, except the parties in Columbus we went to when I knew I would be competing with other over dressed cross dressers or transgender women. Ironically, even she would tell me stories how she fought with her Mom on what she would be wearing to school.

As I look back, I am sure I could have benefited from makeup help from my peer group of girls if I had been fortunate enough to have gone through it. However I do know my Mom was very strong willed and would have fought me tooth and nail on my appearance. Little did she ever know in my youngest years, I did my best to copy her makeup habits and apply it to the clothes I managed to accumulate which matched what other girls my age were wearing. 

All these years later I still remember the shame I felt from just wanting so much to be a girl. It wasn't till much later when I began to live fulltime as a transgender woman did I discover the gender grass wasn't always greener. Surely I would have preferred a girl's childhood to the one I had but I am sure it all wouldn't have been sweetness and light. Plus I am certain as females grow into women they end up leading more complex and difficult lives than men.

Even though I feel the gender grass is not always greener, I wouldn't trade my journey into feminine pastures for the world. 

What Now?

 It's finally fully sinking in I have severed my final ties to my old male life by selling my property in my old home town. 

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

The pressure is off meeting any strangers who may be curious about my transgender stature. Over the years I had grown so worry of so called proving my femininity again and again. I guess I will always will have to face it. To add insult to injury Monday Liz and I had the time to "tour" my old hometown. Even though many of the old physical memories had been torn down, many memories of my attempts to transition there in such a conservative atmosphere remained. Now it seems, I won't have to visit again.

All of this new found mental freedom brings up the question of what now?  Perhaps I have spent too many years of my life wondering what was beyond the next corner to simply give up the habit. Of course being transgender has given me many opportunities to wonder what was around the next corner as I strived to discover if I could actually live my dream as a full time transgender woman. Along the way I considered I actually survived two major gender transitions in my life. The first of which happened when I managed to get out of the mirror and discover the truth about myself. In other words, cross dressing wasn't just a fad which made me feel good, wasn't destructive and may be a phase or a fad I was going through. 

All of the discoveries I was going through on my gender journey finally led me to an unmistakable truth, cross dressing turned out to be little more than a gender pressure reliever and most certainly was much more than a phase I was going through. 

Finally I relieved myself of most all the pressure I was feeling because of my gender issues and decided to begin hormone replacement therapy. From that point forward I considered myself a transgender woman. Before I was fully ready to meet the world as my authentic self there were many "What Now" moments. Several of the most major included how to react when my male privileges were suddenly threatened or taken away all the way to communication issues between the genders as I struggled to fit in as a transgender woman.

Now as I face what only be called my senior years, what now revolves mainly around me being able to hang on to my relatively good health. Or try to maintain myself to the uninvertible a trip to an extended living facility. 

My next step is to erase all thoughts of what could happen in the future and try to be more present in my thinking.  

Blast from the Past

Recently I was surprised to see a post on Facebook from one of my old transgender friends from the earliest days of us exploring the feminine world for the first time. Over the years we have moved far away from each other and she has undergone several surgeries to enhance her appearance as a transgender woman. Her name is Racquel (pictured below).

Interestingly her post concerned several early visits to "straight" venues when we went through unique musical harassments:

" I’m eating a burger at Buffalo Wild Wings. And they just played Dude Looks Like a Lady by Aerosmith. And that’s fine. Because if I complained about it the staff would apologize profusely.

Six years ago the world was very different. I would hang out with Cyrsti and people would play Dude Looks Like a Lady on the jukebox just to intimidate us, and there was certainly nobody who cared if we complained."

All of Racquel's memories are unfortunately so true and even she didn't get to witness the night when a group of drunk rednecks kept on playing the mentioned hated song. It got so bad, instead of doing anything about it, the manager just told me to leave. Even though weeks later I was approached in a neighboring venue by a bartender in the banned place and asked to return. It seemed the person who kicked me out got fired for drug abuse. Revenge was mine but the hurt remains, even to this day.

I do agree with Racquel though the world has changed from the "mean" old days but we still have such a long way to go.

Racquel was also the one who said "I (me) passed out of sheer willpower." Which I guessed was a back handed compliment in that I was going to go public with my feminine life regardless of what anyone else thought. Which I still believe to this day.

Such a Day

I have written numerous times on how I am retired and don't live a particularly active lifestyle. All of that changed yesterday. Seemingly the heavens ganged up on me and made sure everything came about on what would have been a lazy Monday. 

Photo Credit Jessie Hart

Everything started when I learned the closing paperwork on the final property I owned in my past was put off until later in the day. Four o clock to be precise. On the plus side, the timing gave my partner Liz and I a chance to stop in one of favorite villages on the way to the town my property was in. Plus, as luck would have it, yesterday was also the birthday (15) of my youngest grandson, so we could all meet for lunch. The village we were meeting in is known for it's liberal background and pro LGBTQ stances so I was looking forward to seeing my daughter and grandson while we enjoyed a light lunch. 

From there Liz and I had time to do a little shopping in a couple of the shops she has enjoyed going to over the years. Since the village is approximately an hour and a half drive from our house, it's not as if it is an easy trip to take. 

Another pleasant surprise was another small town along the way was having a real live gas war and we were able to refill our tank for nearly fifty cents a gallon less than we paid that same morning when we left. 

Even though we were taking our time, we still had plenty of time to waste once we arrived in my ex home town which over the years was ravaged by de-industrialization and has yet to recover. As we "toured" all the old places I remember were still there and nothing much had improved. Regardless of all of that, time seemed to be moving so slow as I approached a situation where I knew I would be forced to face my former life as a cross dressing man. I also knew it was past time to do something about it and cut my final ties to my past. 

As we walked into the title office where the paperwork was to be handled, I felt as if I was moving in slow motion. I did manage to pull my drivers license out of my purse without dropping it on the floor and not stutter. Having that success, it was time to be mis gendered and get on with the process of signing a ton of paper work. 

Fortunately I had my gender warrior with me and she forcefully corrected the buyer or the paperwork clerk when they tried to call me "sir". Ironically the major memories the clerk had of the building I used to own was the Christmas decorations my deceased wife used to obsess on every year. It was difficult for me to have to relive the memories of her and explain to the buyer why he has found so many garden articles in the building I used to own.  My wife also had a major love of gardening.

In seconds which seemed like hours it was all done and I finally had my check.

For some reason, Liz wanted to stop at Wendy's and try a strawberry Frosty so I had to brave a decidedly conservative public again plus use the ladies room. Which I was able to do relatively unscathed meaning I survived with just a few stares.

As we headed home, I decided to treat Liz to a dinner at our favorite restaurant. Exhausted, we finished a great dinner and a margarita and headed home. 

It was such a day, my past has finally been physically severed. Now it's even a better chance to build a better future.  

All the Gender Boxes

 When we are born we are placed in a gender box. Most of us in a blue one for boy or a pink one for girls. From that point forward in our lives the problem begins. What if we don't fit neatly into one of 

Photo by Kadarius Seegars on Unsplash

the main gender binary boxes? Most of us know our small restrictive box becomes an equally restrictive closet. We begin to refer to ourselves as cross dressers or transgender people. Plus, these days there are beginning to be an increasingly number of different gender boxes identified. An example would be non-binary individuals. 

As life goes on hopefully it becomes easier to escape your gender box and live as your authentic self. To accomplish your escape, often you have to live through several gender boxes. Taking me for example, I felt I was living as a relatively accomplished cross dresser for decades before I finally jumped into the transgender box. At the time I became extra serious about my feminine presentation and started hormone replacement therapy. Ironically, many changes from the feminine hormones resulted in internal changes also. So many it would take me another blog post to explain them all.

Even still, I found an amazing number of strangers didn't care exactly what gender box I was attempting to escape. Naturally, they all had their own lives to deal with and stayed out of mine, for the most part. The others provided interesting all the way to terrifying experiences which I remember to this day. Perhaps the most important lesson I learned was to get out of my own personal gender prison box, I had to learn to blend and live in a cis-gender world as a transgender woman. There were many times I considered returning to my cross dresser gender box rather than give up on all of my male privileges I had worked long and hard to obtain. But my life in my new box as a transgender woman just felt too natural to let go. It was better to pursue the more difficult road and transition into a full time transgender woman. 

You could suggest too life itself is but a series of boxes such as school, marriage, parenthood etc. It just seems those of us who found ourselves in the wrong gender box from the very beginning of our lives were dealt a bad deck of cards.

Hopefully you can shuffle your gender boxes and be able to live your best life.

Busting Out in "C-Bus"

I had a former boss who called Columbus, Ohio  "C-Bus". I used to attend regional management meetings at his office in Columbus. Ironically, I had a difficult time keeping my mind on the business subjects because I was so happy to be back to where I had so many experiences coming out as a novice transgender woman. 

Jessie Hart Columbus Photo

Very early I was able to attend what were referred to as transvestite mixers in "C-Bus". I learned the true value of the mixer label when I met a number of new acquaintances throughout the gender spectrum. Anywhere from crossdressers who were fighting the urge to dress as women to impossibly beautiful and feminine transgender women carefully considering their next step. In other words to explore surgery and live full time lives as an out transgender woman. Most importantly I needed to discover more and more about where I wanted or needed to go with my gender dysphoria. I was stuck in the middle of the two gender binaries.

As I have mentioned, about half of the time, I was able to attend these mixers alone. Either my wife had to work or just didn't want to go. Plus the mixers had decreased in size to exclusive parties at one of the transgender woman's houses. She owned and lived in a restored brick house in the "German Village" restoration district just south of the downtown business district. The nights I was alone allowed me to explore several of the "what if's" of my transition. 

Perhaps one of the biggest back then was the need to be validated as a woman through a feminine appearance. It was all well and good until one night I was cornered by a much bigger "admirer" who used to attend the parties to admire the other guests. By my own admission I was dressed more trashy than classy and he cornered me in a hallway. I found out very quickly how a woman can get into trouble. 

Other times I did tone down my appearance and was able to flirt my way into perhaps interesting situations. I say interesting because I knew deep down I would never cheat on my wife. (I never did). Another night with an interesting outcome came when I casually met up with one of the lesbians who were checking out the mixer with a friend. I flirted my way into taking off and going to a nearby predominately lesbian club with her. Predictably that was about as far as it went.

As I look back on all my experiences at the mixers, I see them all as a giant learning experience. Through it all I was desperately searching for my true gender identity. The early mixers in C-Bus were both frustrating and inspirational. Frustrating in that I knew I was light years away from coming to a gender decision but at the same time, my successes were propelling me forward into always seeking more

To this day when we can afford it, my partner Liz and I always still love to "Bust it Out in C-Bus." 

 

Sleepless in Cincinnati

Quite a few things happened yesterday which led to a sleepless evening. By "sleepless"  I mean my usual eight hours of slumber was reduced to an hour and a half. The main reason was we had strong storms in the Cincinnati metro area and our electric power was knocked out for nearly twenty four hours. No electric meant no fan in the evening heat and humidity. As I have mentioned before, we live in a non airconditioned house. Worse yet, I had no background noise at all to help me go to sleep. Normally leaving me alone with my thoughts leads me to face more than a few of my deepest anxieties head on. 

Before I get to a few of them, I heard from Connie recently and she is facing desperate health issues. So if you all can take a moment and wish her the best I am sure she would appreciate it. To make a long a very personal story much shorter Connie was subjected to the medical paranoia we non

Photo courtesy Connie Malone

operative transgender women fear the most, the total un-robing in the prep room in front of strangers, some of which who don't seem to be completely approving. Regardless of all of that, again I wish her the best trip back to being the sarcastic fun person she can be.

Plus there is Stana's wife who seems to be on the road to recovery. My best goes out to her also. As my father in law always said growing old isn't for sissies.  

Getting back to last night, for some reason my thoughts seem to basically zero in on my deceased wife and a few of the times we had as my desire to pursue a life as a transgender woman was not met with any acceptance from her. Ironically Liz who is my current ten year partner and Cindy (my deceased wife) are completely the opposite in how they approach my gender issues. Cindy fought it saying marrying another woman was not what she signed up for but Liz says all she ever saw in me was feminine. As I struggled with becoming my authentic self, I did make many self destructive decisions. Many of which happened due to my not so secret desire to have my feminine ways discovered. 

One of those was trying my best to "pass" as feminine woman and not as myself around people who knew me. It wasn't too long the word began to get around about what I was up to and certain DJ's would start playing "Dude Looks Like a Lady" when my wife and I went to parties. In other words, I was doing my best to burn every bridge I could to my old male life.

Slowly but surely I was successful and for some reason those burning bridges came back to haunt me last night when I couldn't sleep. 

Finally I became upset when my feelings began to gang up on me and I finally was able to fitfully fall asleep. It helped when I was able to wedge in a couple pleasant memories when we attended cross dressing - transgender mixers at a friends house in nearby Columbus, Ohio. On occasion Cindy would go along but just as often I was left on my own. Leading me to good times which I will write about in another post.

In the meantime, I hope the strong storms stay away long enough for me to catch up on my sleep.