Getting Your Groove Back

During my early adventures out of the closet and into the world, I am fond of saying there were more errors than trials. In other words, I made many mistakes trying my best to figure out what I was doing and just fit in. More times than I care to remember I came home with my eye makeup ruined from excess crying and tears. Too many people were just cruel.

Jessie Hart
From my Boho Days

Amazingly, once I had a good cry, I was determined to do better. To learn from my mistakes as a feminine person and try again. My inner woman turned out to be my biggest fan. She pushed me forward and I finally began to learn from my mistakes. It took awhile but I figured out I needed to be more worried about how I looked for other women, who seemed to notice every detail about my appearance. In the past I spent more time thinking about my appearance as it related to how I thought a woman should look...as a man. The entire thought pattern led me down a path of trashy, attention getting outfits. The exact opposite of what I needed to be doing to make it in the world as a woman. It seemed I was destined to repeat what many beginning transgender women or cross dressers do. Dress trashy thinking your testosterone poisoned body would look good in a too tight and short mini skirt, in heels at the mall. I wonder now why the mirror kept lying to me and didn't stop me from going out dressed like that. It turned out, the mirror part of this post is strong enough I should write a separate blog post about it. 

At any rate, I was fortunately having enough success in my closet busting explorations to keep trying. After several mis-adventures with the wrong wigs, I finally settled in on a shoulder length blond style which seemed to work well with my Boho fashion inspired jeans skirt and flowing light weight top. Using the outfit as a base, my presentation success rate sky rocketed. Not only did I have to worry less about how I was presenting, I was suddenly thrust into a totally new situation. By getting my public groove back I found other people who were curious about me and even wanted to know me. All of that was so exciting but the problem was I needed to find the inner woman who wanted out for so long and let her express herself. I just sort of let her go and found out she was a pretty nice person who had been hidden all those years behind a false male personality struggling to survive. Once free, she thrived. 

My groove was back but the problem still remained what to do to clean up and close what was left of a male life which was growing more and more distant. It was about this time when destiny or fate stepped in for my groove. Tragically my wife and many of my closest friends passed away and I had lost nearly everything which was dear to me during the bleakest moment of my life. It turned out my shining star who stood by me was my feminine self. Surprisingly she was stronger than I ever thought possible. She was there all those nights when I was recovering and trying to figure out what to do next with my life. 

I am sure many of you have faced similar dark moments in your life too. Times when you have discovered how strong and resilient your feminine self was. Hopefully she was worth the wait.  

Fantasy World

 

Image from UnSplash

As I look back  on all the time I wasted trying my best to survive in a male world,  I wish I could go back and reclaim just a portion of the time I lost. Just a little of the time I spent thinking about my next feminine adventure while I was still following a fake male life. I have written many times of how the stress nearly killed me.

Even worse than the stress perhaps was the hiding I did behind my feminine desires. All along (from the beginning) I thought girls had it easier than boys. My main playing card was the military service I faced for years before I finally had to serve. I always was of the opinion the military draft should have been an universal option for both genders.

Of course what I didn't realize girls (and later) women had their own set of challenges and often the gender grass wasn't always greener on the feminine side. I am sure my Mom would have put much more pressure on me to do certain things had I been born female. I am positive, I would have been pressured to go to the same university she went to and even join the same sorority. It was bad enough putting up with the pressure of being her son, I never took it into consideration how it would have been to be her daughter. At the least, I could weekly try to get dates even though I wanted to be pursued not the gender chaser as males were. 

What happened was, every failure in life I encountered as a man, I chalked up to not wanting to be a guy anyhow. I would retreat into my feminine fantasy world and not try harder. After all, wouldn't it be much more enjoyable to be a cheerleader than actually be on an compete for a spot on the football team. Back then I didn't consider all the passive aggressiveness which goes on with groups of women. I am sure the claws came out more than a few times when girls competed for spots on the cheerleading squads. 

Finally, it took basic training in the Army to force me out of my closet in some ways. Ironically it was impossible for me to hide behind my skirts and heels and compete in a total masculine world. It turned out I could compete and survive but the whole experience strengthened my resolve to finally attain a transgender status in the world once I completed my military service. I guess in many ways, the process made me a strong enough man to be a woman. I didn't know it then but I would need all the strength I could muster to pursue my gender transition goals later in life. 

Normally in my posts, I can point to some sort of positive which came out of my experience. However, I just can't on this post. The time I spent in my feminine cross dressing world was just a waste of time. I did learn the basics of putting on makeup and trying on panty hose but that was about it. The time I spent observing women which turned out to me interacting with them was all so much more important. 

The fantasy world was just a waste of time I can never get back. I found the hard way women do not have it easier than men.    

No One Does it Better

In the transgender vast blogger universe, in my opinion, no one writes a better blog than Stana at Femulate.

As an example, here is her fabulous Holiday greeting card. Virtual of course:

I know many of you here in the Condo also visit her on a regular basis, so I am speaking to the choir. But  I know what the demands of writing a daily blog present to a person, so I respect the work Stana puts in even more. Also when I think I have been a blogger for ten years now (or so) I have even bigger respect for people who have been doing it longer than I. Again that is Stana.

Happy Holidays to my favorite blogger!
 

Happy Holidays

 As I sit here warm and safe in what is left of our Artic climate watching "A Christmas Story" my favorite

Happy Holidays from Liz and I

holiday movie, I need to pause a moment and wish all of you a Merry Christmas. Or whatever holiday you celebrate this time of year.

"A Christmas Story" always resonated with me because of several reasons. I suppose the next to biggest one is the fact the movie took place in about the same period of time which I went through growing up. Complete with the festive downtown department store Christmas windows with electric trains and other kids gifts such as dolls and BB Guns. The biggest draw from the movie was even in the earliest days of my existence, something deep down inside told me I would rather have the doll rather than the BB Gun. Ralphie, the young star of the movie was just the opposite and wanted the air gun badly. Unlike Ralphie I was disappointed when I was gifted with the gun. On the other hand I couldn't imagine ever admitting to my parents I wanted anything such as a doll for Christmas. 

The only thing I remember happening with the BB Gun was a couple of sparrows were terrorized and my brother shot me in the arm once. Who knows what would have become of a doll since the only siblings in the family were my brother and I.

I would be remiss if I wrote a Christmas post without mentioning all of you transgender or LGBTQ individuals who may have lost your families for any number of reasons. I have my own point of reference since my brother and his side of the family refused to accept my new feminine authentic self. I quickly moved on and it was their loss. Blood family or not, I hope you have someone to spend the holidays with, or at the least think about you.

Another Holiday photo I would like to share here on the blog is from long time reader and fellow blogger Paula Godwin from the UK. She writes the transgender "Paula's Place" blog.

Happy Holidays!

Being a Late Bloomer

 Or should I say a "late boomer" since I was born in 1949, I firmly fall into the "Boomer" generation. One of the things which disappoints me the most  is when a younger transgender person tries to say I (or anyone else) who transitioned later in life are somehow less trans as their younger counterparts. 

Happy Holidays!

First of all, what does less transgender mean to begin with? Just because I identified as a cross dresser or transvestite for nearly fifty years doesn't mean I didn't think constantly about if I could achieve my impossible dream of living a feminine life. Of course, all of us of a certain age remember the "dark ages" of the LGBTQ movement. There was very little information at all concerning our urges to put on our hose and dresses and do our best to look like girls. It was a lonely time in our very dark gender closets. Younger transgender women and trans men probably can't imagine a time with no computers or social media they could use to communicate with other friends. Many of you remember when Virginia Prince and her Transvestia Magazine was almost the only source we could turn to trying to educate ourselves to our gender issues. The publication even magically helped others such as me seek out and find others with like cross dressing interests. I remember how scared and excited I was when I learned there were monthly "Tri Ess" meetings going on which were close enough geographically for me to attend. 

I did attend and ironically did learn I was still different than many of the others who attended. There were those who seemingly used the opportunity to wear a dress to overstate their masculinity. In the days preceding "Urban Cowboy" and cis women smoking cigars, these cross dressers decided a big cigar, no makeup and a cowboy hat were their best feminine accessories. On the other hand, there were the attendees who looked impossibly feminine. I found myself between the two. Most certainly I did not identify with the cigar smokers but was not accepted by the so called "A" Listers. I had a ways to go with my feminine presentation but I was trying. Even though I didn't particularly appreciate their attitude, the "A" girls couldn't wait to expand the cross dressing party out of the hotel and into the world. I knew that was where I wanted to be, even way back then. 

I imagine when I did tag along, more than a few of the "A" girls looked down on me (an early form of being transer than I) but I persisted and learned. Slowly but surely I became accepted by a group in nearby Columbus, Ohio. Compared to a few of the others, I was still a late transgender bloomer even though I was just in my thirties. The whole experience gave me a regular outlet for my gender desires other than my yearly Halloween party. Plus being around the "A" girls really helped me to up my game and try harder to look more feminine. The only main problem I was having was I was happily married to a woman who knew I was a cross dresser but was careful to draw the line when I made any moves to advance to the next step which a few of my acquaintances were heading towards. A sex change operation as it was known back in those days. 

My excuse in those days for my stopping my gender progression was I was happily married to a woman I loved, plus I was rapidly advancing in a job I had worked hard to obtain. In other words I had a lot to give up. In essence giving up a life we transgender persons of a certain age have worked to build is one of the main gender transition problems we face. It all is in direct opposition to the hurdles younger trans people face. They face building a life in a sometimes hostile world while we face giving up the living privileges we have gained over the years. 

The key is understanding from all transgender women and men. Being a late bloomer is just another part of the process. 
 

Riding Two Horses While Trans

Jessie and Liz (right) from the
Jessie Hart Collection

 I should say trying to ride two horses at the same time. Since I have barely ridden any horses at all, I certainly couldn't attempt to ride two at the same time. What I have tried to do was live in two genders simultaneously. Or live two days a week in a feminine existence then finish out the week as a part time man. I took as many chances as I could to dress as a woman and attempt to present as well as I could in the public's eye. Being blunt, before I decided to go full time as a transgender woman and quit living as my false self as a man, the process nearly killed me. 

Overall, living in both of the primary genders was too much to take and it nearly tore me apart. As I lived I had to make a conscience effort to remember which gender I was. All in all, it was the complete throwback to my younger days when I woke up every morning wondering how I was going to make it another day trying to fit it and/or compete in a male world. Even though I was very bad at it, I somehow succeeded in convincing the other males around me I could compete to a certain level. Most certainly in those days I was not trying to ride two gender horses. 

It wasn't until much later in life, I was forced into the process. The better I became at being a woman, the harder it was to go back to my male self I detested so much. Especially when I began to learn all the nuances of how women interact between themselves. I found out the hard way when a passive aggressive compliment isn't a compliment at all. My favorite example comes from women complimenting me on my appearance as a man trying to appear as a woman. Or the occasional woman who would be smiling at me as she hid the knife behind her back waiting to cut me the entire time. The whole process was quite the experience. Exciting and terrifying at the same time.

I am sure there are rodeo acts somewhere with sexy cowboys riding two horses at once but I couldn't do it with my gender dysphoria. In addition to not really wanting to ride both genders, my male side at the time was quickly withering away and dying. Replacing him was an ever so vibrant inner woman waiting for her turn to live. The bad part was the worst male characteristics I had held on. Even if I had anyone to talk to concerning my gender issues, it was always easier to keep them bottled up. Even to the point of resorting to trying to escape through an alcoholic bottle. Deep down I hoped I could find the courage in a bottle to tell my friends what was really bothering me or later on give me the courage to go out and see if I could find a feminine existence as a transgender woman and live in it.   Even the alcohol didn't work and in fact the whole process led me to a deep despair which ultimately led me to self harm...again. As I looked back on my life, I squandered many chances I had given to me by being very self destructive. I am a firm believer I had a strong guardian angel looking over me. 

Riding two horses while trans didn't work for me. In fact it nearly killed me.

Transgender Night Out

Photo Courtesy 
Clifton Mill

 Long ago when I was increasingly exploring if I could indeed live in the public's eye as a feminine person, I made a decision. I decided to attempt to visit and even enjoy taking in the Christmas lights and atmosphere at a nearby restored grist mill at nearby Clifton, Ohio. Furthermore, I decided to visit for the first time as a woman, my authentic self. 

Of course, once I made my decision, I had to decide when I could do it and more importantly, what I would wear. As luck would have it, I had an evening off from work when my wife was working at the bookstore. The coast was clear (so to speak) for a night out as a woman enjoying the Christmas lights with perhaps even a hot chocolate to enjoy. The weather for the night turned out to be a benefit also. The evening was clear and frosty without being brutally cold. Ideal for a warm, soft, bulky sweater, leggings and boots. All of which I happened to have in my wardrobe since the items were indirectly approved by my wife. In fact, one year, she had even given me one of my favorite sweaters for Christmas. 

Finally, my night out was upon me and I neglected to say one of the biggest advantages I had was it was dark outside when I left. Harder for prying neighbors eyes to see me. I myself was satisfied with the way I was presenting myself as a woman. Transgender or not. As I always thought, confidence is always a woman's best accessory. When you have it, strangers will at the least read it in you. They will have a tendency to accept you more easily as your feminine self. 

Once I arrived at the mill, it was crowded and I had to walk. Luckily, my boots were casual and easy to walk in. With my shoulder length blond wig I felt encouraged I could present as a woman just out to enjoy the Christmas lights at the Mill. While I was there, I became so encouraged with the outcome of the evening, I decided to stop by the Mill's gift shop to see if I could pick up a gift for my wife while I was there. I didn't find anything special so I purchased a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows. The young girl who served me didn't seem to pay me any extra attention so I went away encouraged with my evening.

As is the case with any special night, the entire evening seemed to go by in a flash and all too soon I had to return home and act like I had been there all night for my wife's benefit. If it was late my trick was to already be in bed so she couldn't detect any telltale signs of makeup I didn't remove.  She was always smarter than I was so I am sure she could usually tell what I was up to. Much to my chagrin now, I always caught got sooner or later. Most likely because deep down I wanted to. Evenings such as the one I spent looking at Christmas lights were enablers for me. The more I was successful in trying to live a feminine life the more natural I felt doing it. In many ways I was just living my truth leading me to ever increasing goals in my gender transition. Very quickly I found myself in other more exciting transitions when I was going from cross dresser to novice transgender woman. 

My Christmas night out just furthered my gender cause. The overall feeling of how I was able to approach the evening and succeed. Gave me the confidence to seek out other nights out which I will write about in other posts.

Trans Girl in an Antique Mall

Image from Christelle Bourgeois
On UnSplash

As I mentioned in my previous post, there was much more going on as I was searching out the perfect Christmas present for my second wife who is now deceased. After haunting a few regional antique malls for "treasures", I decided I could go it alone and surprise her with an ideal garden themed gift. First of all, I would like to explain what an antique mall is to those of you who may not be familiar. In our region of the US, antique malls are large to enormous buildings along or near major interstate highways. They are not to be confused with flea markets as most are full of quality antiques from many diverse dealers. Big and small. 

Before I sat out on my own to look for my gifts, I need to point out also I was the ultimate Christmas shopping procrastinator.  Literally, more times than I would care to admit I was the last hurried shopper on Christmas eve before the mall closed. But since I enjoyed the leisurely pace of wondering through a maze of terrific antiques, I always did my best to try to gain a head start on my shopping. Cross dressing and experiencing the process as my authentic feminine self just added to the pleasure. For the day or days I was planning to shop of course I needed to dress to blend and be comfortable, since I was going to have to do quite a bit of walking. So bulky sweaters, jeans and boots were the perfect outfits to fight off the December Ohio chill. Other than the wonderful selections to choose from, there was the problem of finances since many of the vintage garden items I was in the market for were quite expensive. 

Other than costs, the positives of the venues far outweighed the negatives. First of all, my chances were good for finding her that one of kind garden gift such as a vintage seed box from an old hardware store. They were rare and expensive but every now and then I could find one in my price category.  I was fond of referring to my shopping as garden binging as I slowly savored the feel of my feminine clothes as I made my way through the mall. I liked it to because of the laid back atmosphere. Except for the occasional floor clerk who would ask me if he or she could help me, I was rarely approached. I never had a negative response so I must have been doing fairly well in the presentation department. I know I felt confident as I shopped and the number of wonderful mirrors I happened to encounter told me I was doing fine. Back in those days at the least, I needed as much assurance as I could get when I saw my feminine reflection in an antique mirror. This was during the time when I was stuck between being a cross dresser and strongly considering if I could refer to myself as transgender and look at living my life fulltime as a transgender woman. 

The best part was I was able to spend the biggest part of the day as my feminine self, before my wife made it home and I had to be returned to my rapidly disappearing male self. I think now she could see through my gender charade and was waiting for the next foot to fall. But, in the meantime, I was able to find, hide and wrap more than a few wonderful Christmas gifts for her. Who knows, may be it was just my guilty conscience coming through when I went so far out of my way to seek out the perfect gift. After all, it was me who held the key to destroy our relationship by wanting to be a woman. 

In the meantime, I was able to learn from my antique mall experiences. I was able to step away from my usual regular clothing store/mall life and see if I could make it in the real world, perhaps even owning my own small vintage shop. In a different way later I was able to accomplish selling vintage items on on-line sites. In fact I was able to keep myself above water financially for quite a while. Mainly by selling the best gifts I had purchased for my wife before her death. It was the final chapter in many ways of our life together. I often wonder what it would have been like for her to join me in antique mall shopping.

Trans Christmas Shopping

Image Courtesy Waldemar Brandt
on Unsplash 

In reality,  all of this experience happened when I was primarily still a cross dresser still exploring advancing myself into the novice transgender category. Of course this is all important if you are into any sort of LGBT labels. I use them to further explain where I was on my long gender path.

Back in those days I was nearly at the maximum income  I would ever make. I had the spendable income which enabled me to spend money on nice gifts for my second wife who was really into Christmas. Traditionally I was a late shopper and would wait until the last minute to buy her the gifts I wanted. Along the way also I discovered I really enjoyed shopping for her when I was dressed as a woman. I would go to very upscale malls dressed to blend with the rest of the shoppers which allowed me to often wear my favorite black pants suit, along with my black flats and blond shoulder length wig. My outfit gave me the all important courage to move out of my closet and into the feminine world. 

One mall in particular was in Columbus, Ohio and featured an upscale garden store I was interested in. Among her other interests, my wife was very much a gardener. so it was a wonderful place to find her a special gift. I was always treated with respect there most likely because my money was green. Other places I went included green houses, antique malls and even a few oak furniture stores for gifts. Fortunately, since my wife worked in the retail book business, she was working many hours which allowed me to enter my feminine world and shop for her. I could knock out two major desires at one time. The desire to find her the perfect gifts as well as satisfy my new and wonderful desire to interact in public as a woman. 

One night in particular, both worlds came together spectacularly...almost. Over the years, I had tried to purchase my wife various oak furniture pieces for her living room including a large roll top desk with matching file cabinets. On the night in question, I just happened to stop by a store in Columbus to see if they had any matching oak pieces I could buy for my wife. By accident I found the perfect glass book case which matched her other oak pieces perfectly. The problem was here I was in my wig and pant's suit wondering how I was going to move my gift to our truck. Mentally I was still in male mode thinking I had to do everything physically myself. I was proven wrong when I made my purchase and found I didn't have to lift a finger. The store owner summoned two young guys to move the book case to my truck and even finished off with a big thank you Miss. I thought wow! I could get used to this. 

Once I arrived back home, it was a fairly simple task to slide it out of the back of the truck into the garage once I begrudgingly returned to my old unwanted male self. On Christmas Eve, the bookcase was a huge hit. Overall the entire experience made Christmas shopping so much more enjoyable for me. I could completely look for the special gift while expressing my desire to live a feminine life . I loved it! As we will get into in another post.