Your Help is Needed

We are yet in another crisis for transgender youth here in Ohio. Predictably Republican state representatives are pushing severe anti LGBTQ agendas. One in particular is coming up to a vote soon.

Here is something you can do to help with a simple phone call to this number:

 614-466-6344

“Rep Manchester, my name is _______, I’m a resident of _______ county, and I’m calling today to ask you to vote NO on HB454, the trans youth medical ban.”

If you don't live in Ohio, make certain you add the passage of this bill will add to the reasons you will never visit here/there.

Thanks for your help!

Mirror Mirror

I have been fortunate in that I have lived a fairly long life of seventy three years. Over the years I have had many acquaintances, friends, family and even spouses come and go. Not long ago I realized I missed an inanimate object which I deal with daily, which on occasion ranks above all the people I wrote about above in importance.

Mirror Photo courtesy 
Jessie Hart

I am referring to my mirror. Of course I have encountered and lived through many mirrors during my years. Very early in my life, a full length mirror in our long hallway became my best friend.  In fact, during the precious moments I found myself alone in, the mirror became my only friend. I loved it when I could get cross dressed as a girl and was able to walk slowly up and down the hallway thinking all along what a pretty girl I made. The mirror was of no help and added it it's positive affirmations regardless of how bad I really looked. In other words, the mirror was lying to me.

Of course my infatuation with the mirror continued. As I began to explore the world as my feminine self, many times I would push the envelope and try to dress too sexy which became too trashy. One example was when I had a platinum blond wig which was actually too short to cover dark hair on my back. Even though I knew it was happening, the mirror told me I looked so sexy I would certainly present well. Needless to say, I didn't and received way too much negative attention in a bar I went to. I was lucky to make it home without incident and the blond wig was forgotten forever.   

Unfortunately I am a slow learner and my mirror continued to lie to me. I persisted in trying to dress as a teenaged girl in a man's body. I wore my skirts too short as well as my shorts trying to show off my legs which was fine except by doing just that I ignored the fact I had shoulders and a torso which were decidedly un-feminine. The mirror never told me to change my thinking and dress for the overall look and began to blend in responsibly with the rest of the feminine population. It was around this time when I began to separate my self from my mirror and establish new standards. Plus I was increasingly faced with having to meet the public one on one. So essentially all of them became my new mirrors. 

For the longest time, my mirror obsession declined to a point where I had to dread seeing myself in the mirror the first thing in the morning. Some days I looked and saw a vaguely feminine person looking back at me but other days the image screamed same old male and my gender dysphoria would kick in again. I would be in despair thinking even with hormone replacement therapy, I was wasting my time. Then the gender pendulum would swing back again as I rationalized I probably landed somewhere in the middle of my appearance expectations. 

Regardless I wondered why I was so vain anyway. I suppose the vanity goes all the way back to my earliest days of wanting to be and fit in with all the girls. Never stopping to think of any of the negatives involved. Most certainly the girls I so intensely admired had their own issues to deal with.

So even though my mirror has been my life long companion, in reality it has never been my lifelong friend. Often telling me just what I wanted to hear. No matter where they happened to be from my hallway at home to mirrors in mall clothing stores all the way to mirrors behind the bars I frequented, it seems I always needed a mirror as a crutch. To reassure me I was always the feminine person I always wanted to be. Put what label you want on it, cross dresser or novice transgender person I needed the help to exist. These days, except for the occasional dysphoric episode. life with my mirror has settled in a daily small makeup and skin care routine.        

Popcorn Girl

 Recently I wrote a post explaining how I always wanted to look like one of the old time cigarette girls who sold tobacco products in nite clubs. Later on, after I wrote the post, I happened upon this photo of  famous female impersonator Grae Phillips. 

Photo Courtesy 
Grae Phillips 

Perhaps you may remember Grae from the early era of talk shows such as Jerry Springer, Maury and Sally. Just to scratch the surface. Over a period of time even I tired of the shows efforts to exploit cross dressers such as me.

Every once in a while though, I would see an impossibly beautiful cross dresser or female impersonator who I wanted in the worst way to look like. Grae Phillips, billed as the real live "Tootsie" (after the movie) was one of the best. Grae could sing as well as any cis woman and totally looked the part.

So naturally I was impressed when I found this photo on social media of Grae dressed as a popcorn girl several years ago in New York City. My knowledge of Grae plus classic drag or cross dressing stores such as "Lee Brewster's"  were a large part of the reason I moved from my native Ohio to the NYC metro area. Sadly, I never did have the opportunity to visit Lee's but I did take advantage of the opportunity to go a transvestite "mixer" one night on nearby Long Island. 

It turned out to be one fantastic evening as I almost didn't get admitted to the mixer at all. There were two women at the door standing guard so to speak and told me no "real" women could be admitted to this private event. I had to show them my then male drivers license to get in. Needless to say I was extremely flattered.

I also never had the chance to see one of Grae Phillips shows in person when I lived in New York. The closest I ever came was when they accepted my friend request on social media. I guess you can say I am a groupie but then again I couldn't understand how someone who looked that good as a woman  could ever not want to live fulltime. I was still in the period of my life when I was obsessed with appearing as a woman. Not living as one. 

In many ways life was simpler back then before I began to learn the many hidden facets of a woman's life. Much more difficult than just looking like the cigarette or popcorn girl.  

Forces of Nature

No matter how you cut it, women are the stronger gender excepting purely physical attributes. Other than the physical part, women have to do it all. From raising a family to earning a living women  have to do it all. Plus it seems these days there are more and more single mothers taking the family on single handily.

All of this begs the question why would a man give up all of their male privileges to transition to living as a transgender woman. The answers are obvious to those of us who have accomplished the gender transition, primarily we had no choice. It was transition or die. Many of us, including me lived a very self destructive life dealing with our gender dysphoria.   

It amuses me (negatively of course) when other people think we are going through a phase or think we are engaged in some sort of an evil game. Perhaps our potential gender power scares them or they are still living in the years when the media portrayed us as evil people dressing up as the opposite gender for purely criminal reasons. 

As we all found out on our own gender journeys we discovered the path often had more twists and turns than we bargained for. In my case, my first discovery came when I discovered I had to go much farther than just appearing as a woman to live as one. I wish I could easily go back over the ten years and six thousand plus blog posts to write a time capsule on my journey. Simplified  early on my writings involved primarily my appearance. Then after I progressed past the appearance aspect of cross dressing, I progressed into attempting to  see if I could actually progress and thrive in a feminine world. As I moved forward it became increasingly evident I had a long way to go. I knew I wanted to experience the multi layered life cis women go through but I had no idea where my journey would take me. Here is another example,

When I was partying and being accepted by my women friends, I established  a base to work from as I strived to establish my new life. After I did was when I moved in with my wife Liz and began to further increase my circle of acquaintances who had never met my former self. They viewed me as just another person in their circle and made me feel welcome. Even in these groups I felt more comfortable with the other women. I never felt really comfortable with many of the men. Which in many cases was no more different than when I was growing up and later in life when I had very few male friends. 

The final result to my gender search was I had made the correct decision. The more I progressed in life I found out what my wife told me was true. Back in those days I didn't have any real conception what a woman was all about. Women's lives certainly ranged much further than just pretty clothes and well applied makeup. How women communicated with other women is always my go to example as to how different the genders can be. 

Women are the true forces of nature and it the real reason deep down men fear them so much. A prime example is a former president I don't have to mention.

Burning Transgender Bridges

 I am relatively certain  there are not many transgender women or trans men who haven't burned a few personal bridges on their journey to finding their authentic selves. I thought of this topic yesterday when I was watching a television show on the PBS network. The episode partially revolved around the main character and bridges. I am far from a structural engineer but I vaguely understood the  concept of bridges needing tension on both sides to succeed in their duties of carrying traffic to the other side. 

Image Credit Romeo Varga
on Unsplash

Immediately I equated the concept of bridge tension with the gender tension transgender people feel as they attempt to straddle the two main binary genders. What more tension could a human face and conquer? For many, including me, relieving myself of the gender pressure led me to burning bridges in my life. In fact I was notorious for being self destructive and burning my bridges so I couldn't return. Often the flames were so high I lost tract of where I was. Especially when I began to go into my own restaurant venue dressed as my feminine self. Thinking I wouldn't be recognized. Of course I was and it didn't take long for the gossip to spread about me. Not the smartest idea I ever had. 

Deep down I am sure now, I wanted the world to know my secret of wanting to live a feminine lifestyle full time. Regardless of the risks involved of discovery I forged ahead with trips outside of my house which had the potential to ruin the male life I struggled so hard to build. On the other hand, everytime I took a chance to leave my closet and live a new exciting life, I felt so natural. Which in turn led me forward to more intensive trips out of my closet. I guess through it all, I was experimenting how I would build my new life when and if the time came to live it. In many ways it was when the true challenges began.

As I rebuilt my transgender bridge, I had to guess at and then build my bridge to fit the process. How would I ever learn how to blend in and then communicate with both genders once my bridge was built. Again and again I conquered my fears and set out to live. I learned the hard way the inner communication rules of women and for the most part the fact men didn't want much to do with me except to treat me as some sort of a fantasy object. Which was the furthest thing on my mind.  I only wanted to be validated as a woman in my own mind.

Over time, I began to become very good on how I built my new bridge. After more errors than successes my life suddenly became so much easier and again so natural The entire process slowly but surely reinforced in my mind how much I never wanted to cross back to my old life of cross dressing and doing my best to act like a male. 

Years later I have been able to stop burning my bridges. I  was able, thanks to many others,  who helped build in supports to my life as I learned and went along. Another way of saying my own personal infra structure was sound and I could move forward as a secure transgender woman.  

Thanks to all Veterans

 It's Veteran's Day which means it is time again for my annual Veteran's Day post. Since I am a transgender veteran I understand the day may be a little more special to me but it shouldn't. Our country may not be in the best of condition, just imagine where would we be without the selfless sacrifices of veterans over the years. 

My special consideration on Veteran's Day goes out to all the veterans who paid the ultimate price with their lives. How many vets went to their graves not being able to live as their authentic selves as their preferred genders. In addition, how many vets joined the military seeking to prove their worth as a man? We will never know how many servicemen and women lay silent in their graves still withholding their gender secrets.

During my service time, I was in the military way before the so called "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" era when supposedly you were protected from harassment and/or penalties if you were part of the LGBTQ community. Of course, similar to so many other factors which are decided when you compare discrimination between lesbian and/or gay people and transgender individuals. I have heard it referred to as it is much easier to hide gay than trans. 

When I was in the Army in the mid 1970's I actually came out of my gender closet to a very few of my closest friends. During one extended evening drinking wonderful and powerful German beer, I blurted out the reason for my Halloween "costume" was it wasn't a costume at all. I was what I was referred to back then was called  a transvestite and I sometime preferred wearing women's clothes. I was fortunate in that none of them said anything about me to our superiors and nothing happened. When I/we sobered up, I kept my mouth shut and nothing ever happened. But it certainly could have. Being a transvestite or transgender or cross dresser would not have mattered to my superiors and I could have possibly been dishonorably discharged from the Army because of any of them. As I said, I was able to scurry back into my gender closet and survived the final year of my military service unscathed. In fact I was even offered a promotion if I re-upped for one more year of service. I declined and moved forward and even ended up marrying one of the people I came out to who was also in the Army. Eventually she gave birth to my only beloved daughter.

Here on the blog, I occasionally hear from other transgender veterans who took a similar path in the military during the Vietnam War era. Rather than be drafted many of us took the three year enlistment option to be able to be trained in specialized fields which served us well in life. In my case too, I continue to rely on the Veterans' Administration for my health care and medications. So I guess you could say I was repaid many times over  for my three years of service.

Regardless, if you served or not, be sure to take the time out of your busy day to thank a veteran for their service. 

Why Me? A Transgender Odyssey

 As I recently wrote, I used to spend hours and some days even weeks wondering how I finally quit fighting living a male life and settled into a much more natural feminine lifestyle. Once I had the courage to complete my gender transition (more on it later) and begin to be able to see the big picture. I always considered the time I spent obsessing being a girl was somehow a waste of time. Plus many times I would be a whiney girl and get into my why me mode.

Photo Courtesy
Jessie Hart 

Basically it turns  out I was just wasting my time because I was pre-dispositioned to be transgender in the womb. Perhaps you have heard of the drug called "DES" or Diethyistilbestrol which is a synthetic form of the female hormone estrogen. It was prescribed to women between 1940 and 1971 to prevent miscarriage, premature labor and other related complications of pregnancy. It matters to me because my Mother was having and extremely difficult time with miscarriages and even still birth babies before I came along in 1949. It is extremely possible my Mother was prescribed DES.  It suddenly made all the sense in the world why I turned out the way I did, transgender.

Sadly the biggest problem I had moving forward was adjusting to the guilt I felt from being myself.  Through out my life I was very self destructive. From driving way too fast to drinking way too much, I was fortunate I was able to live a long life at all. I definitely had a guardian angel looking over me. Even more drastic to me was the fact I was lying to my friends and family about my true self. 

After I attempted another major attempt at self harm, even I started to feel enough was enough and began in earnest to really see if I could successfully live a feminine lifestyle. Following a few minor then major successes, my new life began to materialize. I had the confidence to go out in the world as a proud transgender woman. 

The more wordily I became, the more I discovered my transition would never be complete for any number of reasons. First of all, my gender transition is viewed many different ways in the LGBTQ community. Since I have gone through hormone replacement therapy but have not undergone any surgeries, some others have a tendency to look down on me. The good old I'm "transer than you" tired thought pattern. During my life I have been labeled so many things, I don't pay attention to the naysayers anyhow. 

While my life will never be known as one of the classic odysseys, it still is different than the run of the mill lives I see others live. After all, how many human beings have the opportunity to cross the gender frontier and experience how the other half lives. Often negotiating the maze isn't easy but then again how many lives are.

I finally came to the conclusion to why me? It came out loud and clear, why not? 

What is DES in medical terms?

Diethylstilbestrol (DES) is a synthetic form of the female hormone estrogen. It was prescribed to pregnant women between 1940 and 1971 to prevent miscarriage, premature labor, and related complications of pregnancy (1).

Voting on Hormones

 My wife Liz and I went out to vote yesterday when she got off of work. Without becoming too political, of course I voted mostly the Democratic ticket since the other party seems to be more involved in  erasing transgender people everywhere, not to mention attempting to control women's reproductive rights. That is all I am going to say politically.

Even more important to me is the fact I was able to exercise my rights as a citizen as a female on my state drivers license which you have to present in order to vote. It is very special to me because years ago voting with my new female drivers license was the first time I had the opportunity to use my new legal ID. All things considered, changing over most of my legal gender identifications was not too difficult even in Ohio. Back in those days though, Ohio hadn't yet changed the rules on changing your gender on your birth certificate and Social Security was still  into changing names only on their records. Not gender. It hasn't been very long since both of these procedures have changed. Social Security being the most recent. 

In addition to changing all my civilian legal documents, I had to change my gender on all my Veterans Administration records. With the unwavering help of my therapist I was able to change my gender with most all of my VA documents. So I have a Veterans identification card marked female as well as being female on my records. Ironically, the VA is updating all it's records and they are now asking how I wish to be referred to. So I updated my records to transgender lesbian, she and hers. Naturally I was surprised when I was asked about my preferences. 

Overall, changing your legal gender markers, is a big move. It goes way past just choosing a new name. For me choosing a new legal name represented another milestone in my journey to a feminine life. No longer could I change my name as quickly as I changed my wig. I can't tell you how many names I used before I got together with my daughter and decided on my new name I would carry with me until I died. I went back a couple generations and selected a name from my mother's side of the family and selected my own Mother's name as my middle name. It made more sense to me than the old male name I had naturally but even more so because I could honor my family and heritage with my new name. My new legal  name I feel would have been approved by my mother.

All of this usually comes to my mind everytime I am able to vote. Plus it is also a chance to get out into the community and exercise my right to be myself...my authentic self as a transgender woman. Plus if you don't vote, you don't have any reason to complain about the results of the election. For my efforts yesterday I was thanked by a male smiling poll worker, voted and received my sticker. And, since yesterday was also Liz's birthday, I took her out to dinner after we were finished at the polls.

I wonder as I grow older if voting will still have a special place in my heart as the first place I was legally recognized as my true feminine self. As I proudly showed my identification with gender marked as a "F". The way it was always supposed to be.  

 

Gender Trigger Warning

 I love watching classic vintage movies. I especially love it when I see my love interest Robert Mitchum  or better yet get a brief view of a cigarette girl in a swanky nite club. As a youth I was always fascinated by Mitchum without even knowing why. Looking back now, I believe I had my first crush on a member of the male gender. I loved his cool yet aloof style. 

What really set off my youthful gender dysphoria were the cigarette girls peddling their toxic goods. I loved their hourglass figures squeezed into slinky black leotard tops. Worn with dark tights or stockings and heels of course. I thought at the time what a great idea for a Halloween costume but soon after that smoking was going out of fashion and I have never been a smoker. 

What never went away was my desire to be a sexy woman. I suppose my ideal was to be able to sell Robert Mitchum a pack of cigarettes as a sexy sales girl. 

I think my next crush on a male person, this time a real one, came in high school. I had a very close friend who I may have been a little too close to. We were literally the best of friends. I should point out nothing of a sexual nature ever happened but I can't say I never fantasized about being his girlfriend. All of this was an extension of my dysphoria working over time. 

Ironically, the older I became the fewer crushes I had with the male gender. I finally came to a point when being with a man was simply a validation of me being a woman. Being on the arm of a tall good looking man was my new fantasy. Then, when I learned I could attract more feminine attention than male attention. I didn't desire men at all. Even though I did have a couple quality male dates over a period of time. Especially the time Bob and I had a wonderful evening over a few drinks and the vintage motorcycle man I met after his ill fated marriage. Neither were fated to last for a number of reasons. Bob lived a distance away and my motorcycle crush ended up moving away shortly after we met. 

Both to me, including the other crushes I had were quick gender triggers. So quick, it took me many years and more wisdom to even realize exactly what they were.