Gender Embarrassment

 
Yesterday was a big day for several reasons which involved my first visit to my Veteran's Administration primary provider. A primary provider role in the VA is similar to a family doctors in the civilian world. The significance to me was once again I would have to break in another medical provider into what makes me who I am.

Who I am of course can become quite complex to the average person if they allow it to be. Yesterday I was really surprised when one of the first questions I was asked by the nurse checking me in was how I identified. I knew the VA was attempting to learn more about transgender patients so I answered "transgender lesbian" and then added she and her as my pronouns.  From there we settled into the real reasons I was there.

Jessie Hart in Civil War 
Cemetary

As I have attempted to explain before, not only are my gender issues a point of separation between me and the "normal" other patients the staff may see but also trying to explain why my care is separated between two VA hospital centers. Add in the fact I am bi-polar and questions can become a little personal. Yesterday I needed two issues resolved above all others. One of which was getting my bloodwork done here in Cincinnati which saves me a trip to Dayton, Ohio to get it done. Fortunately after I learned each center has different systems, it would take some work and patience to accomplish the relatively simple task of blood letting. Then the major problem became was what was this estrogen and testosterone test for anyway. To make matters worse, to get it done, they had to ship it out to somewhere else. I lucked out and was assigned to a tech who stuck with the process, made a few calls and finally ended up drawing eight vials of blood. It seemed everyone wanted a sample of my blood.

Now, where the embarrassment came. Finally when I was able to see my provider for the first time, she and the nurse did a fairly decent  job of using my name in place of pronouns. Then in rapid order they screwed up twice and called me the hated "he" word. They apologized completely. So much so I was embarrassed for them. Plus I didn't want to be too much of a pain because I knew I still had two shots coming. One flu and one pneumonia plus I had another big favor to ask. I held my sharp tonged response back and mumbled something similar to it's all right. Which of course, it wasn't. 

The other favor I asked was admitting I was old and I needed a handicapped sticker to place in the windshield of our car when parking spaces are sparse and far away from where we are going. Of course all the worrying I did was for nothing as in five minutes later I had a legal document from the VA to take to the motor vehicle office to apply for a window placard. 

What seemed like hours in the clinic was finally over in probably a half hour and oh yay, I was tagged to for needing another colonoscopy. I was let free to stop at our favorite fast food chicken place NOT called "Fil A" and picked up lunch.

Now it is on to finishing up our wedding prep and picking up a new member of our feline family to replace the two who passed on last year. Hopefully, all the blood work will come back fine and my providers won't have to live through their self imposed gender embarrassment again.  

The French Girl

 

Photo from Jonathan Borba
on UnSplash

As October progresses it is time for yet another Halloween post. This one also happened several years (or decades) ago when I was desperately searching for my true gender identity. 

As Halloween approached, once again I was torn between wearing something trashy or toning it down several notches and trying to present as a cis woman out for a good time at the party. Earlier I had decided to go to one of the biggest parties in town at a nearby venue in a convention center. Further more I knew my first wife wouldn't want to go so I would be on my own. Which gave me more freedom in my decision of what to wear. 

Since I was perpetually short on funds, plus had a small wardrobe, I needed to be creative when coming up with a "costume". 

After quite a bit of thought and a little luck I happened upon a black beret at one of the big local box stores I shopped at. Quickly I became brave enough to try it on and amazingly it fit well. The price was right and I had discovered the beginning of a party outfit to wear. One which had a theme and wasn't too trashy. Ironically I was able to put together the "costume" from the beret down and go as a French woman (not a maid). 

Since I was partial to black as it minimized my size, I had plenty of the color in my small wardrobe to work with. I started with a leotard top, added a black short skirt I had, added black tights and my black flats and was happy with the result after I added my blond wig. Included in my make up. I made sure to highlight my lips with a red lipstick and I was ready to go  For once fairly confident in how I looked and eager to experience the feedback from others. 

Predictably, most of the other party goers were too wrapped up in their own times to notice me but I did have a few unwelcome pinches to my rear area. I wonder if they knew all they were feeling was foam rubber. After a while, this person in a full robe and mask comes up to me and abruptly says "I know who you are." I was shocked until he lifted his mask and explained. He said he knew me because we grew up together and I looked like my Mom. Of course once I saw him, I did know him from my time growing up. In fact he taught me how to drive his car when I was fourteen. 

For the longest time I didn't know how to react to being recognized.  Finally my ego told me to be flattered because literally I knew I had always looked similar to my Mom and that night someone else had seen it also. Following the "outing" the person involved and I went back to rarely seeing each other so the incident never had a chance to be revisited again. 

Perhaps I was lucky it was never revisited because I learned the person who I interacted with turned out to be a huge transphobe. So I am sure the conversation wouldn't have been cordial. But in the long run I learned who cares anyway.

As far as the party went, I had a wonderful time and enjoyed immensely how the evening went along. Sadly I would have to wait another year for a re-run.  

It's Wedding Week

Liz on the left. New Years Eve
Photo

It is here already.  This is the week Liz and I get married. As always, time flies when you are having fun. I can't say I was having fun the entire time but I can say I can't believe the time has gone by so quickly. 

You see, Liz and I have been together for eleven years now and we actually met on an online dating site. Literally, she reached out to me when I was desperately lonely. We quickly hit it off and started to seriously correspond. First by email and then by phone when I became brave enough to let her hear my voice.

Of course one of the major factors in getting together in person was the distance we lived apart. In those days I lived approximately a hour apart. I lived in Springfield, Ohio and she in her native Cincinnati. So we were within meeting distance. Another plus was I had always loved Cincinnati and deep down thought I would end up living there. 

Following a year or so of commuting back and forth I moved my dog, cat and myself to Liz's place in Cincinnati. Without much of a problem we managed to mesh as she had her son, a dog and two cats living there. Spiritually, Liz is a Wiccan and I lean towards the Buddhist faith so again meshing wasn't too difficult. Liz was way ahead of me when she said how deeply she felt the relationship was destined to succeed and flourish.

Fast forward eleven years and Liz and I are obviously still together and thriving even though I am twelve years older the relationship continues to grow. So out of the clear blue sky a couple months ago my daughter said why don't we and get married. I thought about it for awhile and asked Liz to marry me. She said yes and we moved forward and went to the courthouse and filled out the necessary paperwork. Then we had to make a few basic decisions on what would happen next. It is Liz's first wedding and my third so I left many of the decisions up to her. The only thing I didn't really want was a big wedding and I did not need a fancy wedding dress. None of my previous wives desired a fancy dress and neither did I. Then came the names.

Since I just changed my name legally a couple years ago, I didn't want to go through all of that again. Plus I still am proud of the last name I was born with. Liz on the other hand is eventually going to take my last name. But overall, she wants to be able to call me Mrs. Hart which is quite the change for me. As far as the wedding ceremony itself goes, just my daughter's family is coming plus Liz's son. So with the officiant we will be around ten people. We do have one special guest. I have a FtM transgender grand child who is going to bring their serious partner and I am honored.

What I want everyone to know is when this all started I had exactly no expectations I would ever again be in a serious relationship. I was extremely lonely and was searching in some of the wrong places. Out of sheer persistence I finally hit pay dirt. More on that in a later post. 

You Win Some - You Lose Some

Very early in my gender transition I felt I was successful if I "fooled" another person into thinking I was actually a woman. Little did I know how wrong I was. An example was I would recoil at the mention I "made" a good looking woman. I felt I wasn't making anything, I was just becoming my natural self. Perhaps I was being hard on myself because in reality I was working very hard to perfect my feminine new transgender appearance. By doing so I was encourage myself I could actually survive in the world as a woman.

At the Park
Photo by Jessie Hart

When I first began to notice I was succeeding in my feminine quest was when I was shunned by male friends I knew when I dressed as a woman for a Halloween party. My "costume" was way too serious to be mistaken as a casual excursion into the feminine gender. Maybe among all the other clues, shaving my legs for the evening gave me away. 

It wasn't until years later I realized I had witnessed the first vestiges of losing my male privilege. In other words when I was successful at presenting as a woman, I was kicked out of the boys club I had worked so hard to be accepted in. I was naïve in thinking I could to try to live part time in each binary gender. The entire process nearly cost me the ultimate loss when I tried suicide in addition to a very self destructive existence.

As I transitioned into a fulltime life as a transgender woman, I began to understand exactly what I was winning and what I was losing. Naturally what I was winning was a life as my feminine authentic self when I finally let her out of our gender closet. On the other hand, I was out of the boys club forever and needed to adjust my thinking. I learned the hard way, I had become in essence a second class citizen in the world of men. Long gone were the days when my opinion actually mattered in a group of men. Even though I knew more about the subject than they did. It was humorous to me when I was "mansplained" about a sporting comment. I lost the battle in society but won the war personally. 

I also learned the hard way how losing my male privilege could be dangerous. I write often how I was cornered at a party by a much larger man and suddenly found how vulnerable women could feel. To make matters worse I needed to be rescued by my wife. Yet another instance when losing my male privilege nearly led me to harm occurred during a late night excursion to a gay bar in downtown Dayton, Ohio. When I left the relative safety of the bar and headed down the dark sidewalk to my car I was suddenly stopped by two men. Luckily I was able to escape with no harm when I gave them my last five dollars. Never again did I walk that sidewalk alone. 

Even though there is no way I would give up my feminine privilege which included my new cis woman friends, it still is amazing to me the white male privilege so many men take for granted. 

I certainly won more than I lost.       

Gender Euphoria's Backlash

This is an extension of yesterdays post which went into detail of one of the highly successful Halloween parties I went to. In recap, the evening turned out to be so successful gender euphoria ruled my life for several days following. 

Halloween with Kathy
Photo Jessie Hart

By the time this happened, I should have been able to predict it would occur again almost down to the day. Essentially the pressure of being unable to explore my feminine self became so great I nearly could not stand the pressure. The more pressure I felt, the harder to live or work with became. I was so jealous of any cis woman who I perceived was so fortunate to be born female and having the chance to grow into a woman. It was all a throw back to when I was young and woke up in the morning wanting to be a girl. 

Later I learned my all too brief trips into cross dressing as a woman just wouldn't last. My gender backlash would soon be back to haunt me. I also found out, the more intensely pleasurable the cross dressing experience was, the stronger the need to repeat the process. As knowledge of gender became more well known, what I was going through was gender euphoria versus gender dysphoria. In scientific terms, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.  

In the case of the Halloween party I wrote about, the euphoria I felt from feeling I was able to compete appearance wise with the other women I was with was intense. In the days following my adventure, it didn't take long for my gender dysphoria to set in. When it did set in, it did it with a passion. I couldn't stand to look at my male face in the mirror in the morning and my day automatically started on the wrong foot. Once again I was stuck wondering why I couldn't live a feminine life more often. My inner self who was feminine in nature was screaming to get out. 

My entire reason in writing this post was my desire to point out no matter how pleasurable to finally burst out of my gender closet it was during these Halloween adventures, finally learning I had a deeper need to be a transgender woman was slowly but surely ripping me apart. When I say was nasty coming down off my gender euphoria I mean it. I was fired from one job for how I treated my employees and almost lost several others. Finally I had to tell my bosses I was undergoing anger management training when in fact I was going to a gender psychologist. It saved my job and helped somewhat with my dysphoria. 

Halloween was such a learning experience for me, I craved the euphoria when I achieved it which was not always the case. Some Halloweens were more special than others and if I knew then what I know now, I would have recognized the true depth of all my gender issues. Putting on the feminine clothes was all well and good but it turned out the clothes were just the tip of the gender iceberg.  One thing is for sure, I would have understood the negative aspects of  backlash better.

Party Time

 My Halloween posts this month will not be in chronological order. This evening happened while I was living with my wife in an apartment in the NYC metro area. In the early to mid 1980's. 

At the time I was managing a Wendy's near the Bronx and knew few people outside of my fellow managers and workers.  So when Halloween rolled around I thought I would be left out of a party again that year. Since in those days, Halloween was basically the only day of the year I could break out of my gender closet and explore the feminine world. As it turned out that year I was "rescued" by a fellow cis woman manager who took pity on me and invited me to a party she and her friends were going to at a nearby venue to her.

Needless to say I was excited and found out where I had to go to meet up with her and her friends. Then I had to stress out on what I would wear and what would my wife say. I knew for certain she would not approve of what I was planning to wear. In fact, she was so against my outfit she refused to even tag along. Leaving me on my own, which is normally not a good idea.

First of all I chose my outfit which attempted to be sexy as well as realistic. In other words, the same way many other cis women try to dress for Halloween. I chose a short mini dress, hose and heels along with my favorite wig for the evening. Since I couldn't sneak out without my wife seeing me, I had to put up with her disapproving stares and or glares. Once I left the apartment I was in heaven. I loved the feel of the cool autumn air on my freshly shaven legs and the sound of my heels as I walked down the sidewalk. Even still, the anxiety mounted as I followed my directions to where I was to meet the others going to the party. 

Once I made it and knocked on the door, I was amazed to find and pleasantly surprised to learn all the other people going were women. In addition they were all tall and beautiful and dressed like me. It was funny when I entered the room all conversation stopped as the other women looked me over. Only this time I was not met with the same disapproval I received from my wife. After brief introductions, we went out the door and made the short (thankfully) walk to the small tavern where the party was taking place. One memory I will never forget was when we all had to cross the street together and here I was holding my own with other women.  My heels didn't even bother me. It was as if I was walking on air. 

Once we arrived in the venue, the women scattered to meet other friends and I was left on my own to see what happened. Along the way, I managed to locate a vacant table until an older man came along and joined me. Of course I didn't know if he knew my true gender so I resisted any of his attempts to buy me a drink or more importantly dance with him. Before I knew it the evening was over and it was time to leave. 

What I didn't recognize until much later in life was the night was actually my first girls night out. I hadn't learned yet that so called girlfriends come in second place when it comes around being around men and essentially everyone is one their own.

Finally, amazingly to me, I received very little feedback at work concerning my so called "costume". Perhaps living in a more liberal world helped. One way or another it turned out to be an evening I will never forget. I wish I had pictures but I don't. This all happened way before the "selfie" days and cell phones.

Spilled Estrogen and Health Care

 It's time to go the vampires and have my blood labs checked. Since I actually go to two Veteran's Administration hospitals for care, it seems to always be confusing to new people I meet in the system. Add in the fact I am transgender and confusion often dominates the conversation. My latest example came yesterday when I was trying to set up having my blood checked at the nearest VA clinic to me rather than make the drive (one hour/one way) up to Dayton to get the work done. 

Initially I was having a difficult time getting the point across what I wanted. The nurse kept going back to my last results which I already knew. As she was going through the results she paused, and I knew what was coming. She said in a questioning voice what was this estradiol test for. Even though I felt it was really none of her business, I told her the truth. I was transgender. After all of this, I did get an appointment with my doctor to get the bloodwork done locally. The VA has an on-line site where the results are available for the veteran and their health care providers. My other providers finally learned they could access my records also which saved me a trip.

I am aware VA healthcare is not equal for all transgender veterans as is reflected in this archived post I wrote last year:

" Along the way here in Cyrsti's Condo, I enjoy reading other experiences from other transgender women who share a similar age to me. Five (at least) are transgender veterans and it seems I am learning of more trans vets daily. By reading their comments, what the typical person doesn't realize I think is the wide range of care you can receive in various Veterans Administration Hospitals. 

Photo by Ehimetalor Akhere Unuabonao
on Unsplash

Also, trans persons in my age range (65-70 plus) go through being an educational experiment. Meaning, we are educating our medical providers about the needs of transgender patients. As it has turned out, I have been on both sides of becoming a self care provider.  I do think over the years, more and more medical professionals are being educated to us. When I look back at my experiences mostly at the Dayton, Ohio VA center, they have many residents from nearby universities following around my regular doctors. I always take it as a good sign when a young college aged professional has the opportunity to see a transgender woman such as me be cared for. 

Unfortunately I know all haven't been able to  have the same beneficial experiences. I know I am mostly speaking to the choir here but imagine if you have to fight through personal and or  religious discrimination to even receive quality transgender care such as hormone replacement therapy. Which studies have proven to be mentally helpful to the mental health of so many gender dysphoric individuals. Alternatives such as Equitas Health are proving to be life saving medical providers for the LGBTQ community if you are lucky enough to live near one of their offices in the Midwestern United States.

Now, let's go back to another major service the VA provides for transgender veterans...mental health care. Again, from the comments I receive, the care a vet receives varies widely from VA center to center. As I have previously written my original therapist at the VA has been with me all the way and has been completely sympathetic and proactive to my needs. Of course HRT meds come to mind but there was so much more such as providing paperwork to help with name and gender changes within and out of the system. 

Plus, even though I had to educate my initial endocrinologists, my current "Endo" is also a wonderful provider who monitors and takes care of my needs. 

Through all of this, I hoped I would be the rule, not the exception. But from many of the comments I receive I am afraid I am not. it is too late to cry over spilled estrogen when you are 72. Sure, such as many of you I wish I had worked my way out of cross dressing and into a transgender life much earlier than I did. It seemed my gender crystal ball was a bit cloudy and the life I so meticulously built and protected as a man was too good to give up. 

I hope your journey across the gender frontier has brought you to where you want to be. No matter the years it took you to get there and the experiences you had with your health care."

Transgender Dreams

Dream Photo
Courtesy Jessie Hart

 
When I was much younger I used to look forward (then hate) the times I went to sleep and had vivid dreams of being a pretty girl .I awakened depressed when I learned it was just all just a dream. 

These days, curiously, my dreams have changed. Some times I am my feminine self and other times I revert back to my old male self. Neither one of which makes much of a difference to me when I wake up.

Maybe I should just call my dreams "gender fluid" using a more current term. Also maybe I am not being very realistic as far as my subconscious mind is concerned. After all I did live most of my life trying to survive in a male dominated world in a life I never wanted. Perhaps it will take time to establish a backlog of feminine or transgender existence to draw from when I dream. Usually I can experience both genders in one night. When I wake up, I just think Wow! How different was that. 

On rarer occasions, I seem to hit a middle road when I am back to wearing wigs and interacting more with cis women I didn't know. I even had a dream of the night I had to invade the women's room of one our favorite LGBTQ friendly bars we went to, Once I went in there were several evil looking women glaring at me. Once I finished with my business and washed my hands I needed to use the hand dryer. One of the women glared at me again and barely moved from in front of the dryer. Being the alpha bitch I was becoming, I simply reached around her and turned the dryer on and it really messed up her hair. I was amazed how the details of the experience came back to me in a dream.  

Perhaps, as the new life I have chosen to live continues to build experiences, it will be interesting to see if my dreams change more to a feminine side. Since my earlier life was more intense in many ways than my current one, I doubt if will happen. But it will be interesting to see if it does.

Now What?

 

After writing my post yesterday trying to separate my Halloween experiences, I laid awake last night attempting to think of a follow up post. Naturally it was difficult to do. Then I started to think of one of the powerful responses I received to one of my "costumes". It happened during a party I went to with friends when a couple of the wives cornered me and said something to the affect if I ever decided to go that way (and be a woman) I wouldn't have to worry about how I looked. I was immediately at a loss for words and finally came up with "A lot of good it does me." At that point in time during my life, I saw very little hope I could ever live a life in a feminine existence. I don't remember for sure but all of this may have happened before the transgender term was ever used. 

So here I was feeling strangely vulnerable in my long hair, mini dress and heels wondering now what. Looking back it was the beginning of understanding I couldn't continue to cross dress as a woman and continue to reap the benefits of white male privilege. How times have changed. Today we seem to have so more how gender works and the attached benefits or restrictions each gender seemingly has to experience. 

Yesterday I was watching a talk show on television which featured a beautiful transgender woman and her supporting fiancé. Sadly even though she had it all in the looks and voice departments, she said she still wanted facial femininization surgery because she couldn't feel at ease with herself.  She still saw the same old male face. Even though she benefitted from an early start on her transition and had an understanding family, which I didn't, I could still feel for her situation. In many ways she was still searching for her own now what. 

Unfortunately, as I approach my seventy third birthday, my now what turn to much more overall negative thoughts. Such as what is going to happen if I live into my later eighties and face the same fate as my father who passed away from dementia. Plus what is going to become of all the dire warnings about Social Security which is nearly my only source of income. And last but not least, what will happen if I have to go into an assisted living facility With all these negatives swirling around, often it is difficult to maintain positive thoughts and try to live my life to the fullest while I can.

As I have aged, I have tried harder to mold myself into a positive way of life. Along with it I try to look back at all of my now what's to see if I can still learn from what I messed up. Even still I will miss some of the early excitement I felt when I went to several Halloween parties, I still have to remember the aftermath when I was haunted by the memories and became  terrible to live with.

In the spirit of Halloween, I guess I can say, my now what's were haunting me. I so badly wanted to let my transgender woman out of the closet  I was miserable and mean to those around me. Naturally it took me years to get over the process. Once I did, my now what became clearer and life became easier.