The Power of Confidence

I nearly labeled this post the power of self conviction for one big reason. First I always write a transgender woman greatest accessory is her confidence. I am sure we have all observed a cis woman or two walking down the street or in a store who just seems to exude a huge amount of confidence in herself. Who knows, maybe she just bought a new outfit, visited her hair stylist or just was raised to be sure of herself but it surely shows. 

Photo with new glasses
courtesy Jessie Hart

Over the years I have been able to capture just a portion of the frail confidence of a few cis women I have known. I say frail because of all the times I have thought I had turned the corner on my male to female gender transition, only to be ridiculed to the point of feeling temporarily wanting to go back into my gender closet. Within a few days calmer gender minds ruled and I began anew to try to establish myself in a feminine world. During these dark days, the only thing which kept me going was the fact my transition felt so natural. So natural in fact it felt like it was the only path I could take and be able to live. 

Even with all the successes I managed to have, I still was paranoid of being harassed like the old days by some unfeeling transphobe. 

This morning my wife Liz and I went to two doctors appointments. One for her and one for me. Hers was much more intense as she had to go in to the doctors for an feminine test which was both painful and intrusive. On the other hand, mine involved going to the Veterans Administration local office and picking up my new glasses. Being able to see well after all these years was a pleasant surprise. During both appointments no one gave us much notice even when we went into a full waiting room of others getting their glasses proudly holding hands. Nothing gives me more confidence than doing that, even though if I present well (as I always try to do) holding hands gives us away as two lesbians. 

All in all, the power of confidence allows transgender women and trans men the conviction to move forward as our authentic gender selves. It is sad it has to be so difficult.   

All I Ever Wanted

 If you would have asked me when I was young what I really wanted to be when I grew up, the honest answer would have been to be a woman. That's right. When all the other boys my age wanted to be sports stars, corporate presidents or whatever, my goal was so simple yet so difficult. Somehow I needed to lead a feminine lifestyle. 

Photo Courtesy
Jessie Hart

How to arrive there was the problem. The first hassle I ran into was my impending date with the Vietnam war military draft. I tried to outrun the draft as long as I could by attending and graduating college but was finally caught when my draft lottery number came up to 23. Which meant my fate was sealed. I immediately began looking for the military branch which offered a job classification as close as possible to the job I was doing when I went to college. I worked at a local small radio station which was owned by a fairly powerful congressman. Through his influence, I was able to secure a spot in the Army's Defense Information School which in turn enabled me to be eligible to work in the American Forces Radio and Television system. This was very fortunate of course but none of it served to help me to achieve my goal of being a transgender woman. 

After the Army I was able to resume my journey in earnest. This was my time to explore living a feminine lifestyle out of the mirror by sneaking out of the house when I could all the way to the exciting Halloween parties I went to. Over this period of time I learned many lessons the hard way but on the other hand I was learning leading a feminine life in a women's world was indeed possible. 

Ironically,  the more I learned, the more I needed to learn. The life I so desperately wanted to pursue still was far away. An example is when I learned how walking in heels was fine, looking other women in the eye when I communicated with them wasn't as easy. Plus, surely wearing a frilly nightgown or lingerie was wonderful but it ultimately didn't help me in the regular world where other woman were wearing jeans and sweaters. Somehow I needed to temper what I thought would happen when I jumped out of my gender closet to what was really happening. 

Another problem is I have a mind which I really have to push to stay on a topic or goal. It's the primary reason most of my posts don't go over three minutes in length. I have this problem which ended up serving me well when I was making all my early cross dressing mistakes. After the countless times I was laughed at and came home crying, I was able to fairly quickly go back to my feminine drawing board and try again. The major problem I discovered was when I learned to stop my expectations of how men viewed me and begin to focus how the women viewed me. Once I began to focus on women, I began to present easier and I could concentrate on letting my long suffering feminine inner person out and into the world. 

From that point forward when my wife Liz said it best to me, when she asked what type of woman would I want to become. Would I bounce out of bed every morning and do my makeup and hair with heels and hose or would I rely on casual jeans, T-shirts and tennis shoes for everyday non public wear. Since I always have a difficult time waking up in the morning, I chose to settle in to the casual feminine lifestyle. Hormone replacement therapy has helped me also with adopting a casual lifestyle since I have my own long hair, soft skin, breasts and developing hips to reassure my femininity. I know who I am now the world needs to accept me also. 

All I ever wanted was to lead a feminine life and I finally made it but it was a long struggle. My life was certainly a marathon not a race. 

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).