Trust the Process?

Summer Maxi Dress from
the Jessie Hart 
Collection 

So many times when I had reached the point of utter desperation with my gender dysphoria, I wondered what was ever going to become of me. I just had too much of the powerful and seductive draw of the strong inner feminine being who lived within me. She constantly battled the male world which I was born into and for the most part wanted nothing to do with.

All of my battles led to well publicized bouts of self destructive behavior such as using my car as a possible suicide object by driving way too fast and drinking way too much along the way. Unfortunately, my drinking was subsidized in a good way to a masculine pursuit in my family.  My Dad was known to finish his day everyday with a shot (or two) of whiskey. Attempting to out drink him became an unreachable goal for both my younger brother and I. While it never worked with Dad, the entire drinking process provided me with yet another gender façade when I was dealing with others. Plus, the faux level of bravado I found with the alcohol enabled me to initially coming out as a transvestite to friends of mine, all the way to relaxing me when I was attempting to face the world out of my gender closet as a novice transgender woman. The whole process added to my problems with the mirror I was experiencing. When I was intoxicated and staring at myself in the mirror, I was guaranteed to see what I wanted to see. An attractive woman ready to be seen by the public.

My love of the alcoholic came to very much of an abrupt halt when I was pronounced with possible liver problems by my Veterans Administration doctors. I was surprised outside of a few slip ups, I was able to leave my love of alcohol behind. I was able to trust the process and know I would be better off without the one super destructive aspect of my life which was my drinking. These days, I rarely have more than one beer a month. 

As far as my driving goes, I have become decidedly a defensive driver at my age and I have a strong vested interest in being a safe driver while I am behind the wheel. I feel as if I suffered too many close calls when I was younger to tempt fate anymore. The prime example was when I easily could have seriously injured myself and my brother when I rolled a car at a high rate of speed when we were going to college classes one day. I certainly had a guardian angel riding with me that afternoon when I was trying some self destructive behavior

The reason I was able to move away from such poor choices when it came to my lifestyle was when I was able to complete my gender transition I was happier in life.  Or, when my woman took over, she was running the show and did away with all the self destructive nonsense I was participating in. Even though for many years it was very difficult for me to trust the gender process I was slowly becoming so satisfied with my life I wanted to prolong it as far as possible. A honorable pastime.   

Living the Trans Dream

Summer in Ohio
from the Jessie Hart
Collection

Every so often I have the chance to sit back and wonder how I ever made it to the place in life I have arrived at now. I spent so many years living a mostly frustrated male life, wondering how it would be to permanently cross over the gender frontier and live life full time as a transgender woman. For the longest time, I thought I would never make it to the point where I could ever live my dream. 

In the beginning and during several years following, I went down the same rabbit holes as other cross dressers or transvestites I knew. The same old male egos showed through our fancy feminine clothes to reveal we didn't know much about being women at all. Just doing our best to look like one.  Finally I came to the point of knowing I wanted to discover more in depth just what I would be facing if indeed I decided to try to complete a MtF gender transition. Before I knew it, years and life had slipped away and destiny opened a few doors for me which enabled me to transition fully. Recently I received a comment from fellow blogger Paula Godwin who described her journey a little different:

" For those of us who transition later in life it is "interesting" when we get the revelation that after spending the first 50 (or so) years of our life trying to work out if we are a woman at all, that then we suddenly have to work out what sort of a woman. Although having said that I'm not at all sure how much choice we actually get in the matter, much like being Trans at all, I suspect that much of what sort of a woman I would turn out to be was not a choice but an inevitable!" 

You can read more from Paula by following her "Paula's Place" blog here or by checking out my "Do You Wanna Hook Up" section of the blog which contains her latest post.

Thanks for the comment and I too spent fifty years or so exploring being a woman at all. Then when I decided I couldn't deny my feminine nature any longer, jumping into the world and out of my closet was quite the experience. The first lesson I learned was all the years I thought my appearance as a woman was the most important facet of my life just wasn't true. I had no knowledge of all the other facets of a woman's life she had to live through on her path from being just a female to being a woman. My second wife so profoundly put it during a huge fight we were having about me being a crossdresser, that I made a terrible woman and she was not talking about just how I looked. At that point I was forced to put my male ego aside and seriously consider what my wife was talking about. The entire process of learning more concerning women's lives was difficult because I was shielded from what really went on with women because I was still presenting nearly fulltime as a man. In other words, I could not be trusted with secrets until I made the huge step of coming out as my authentic feminine self, which was sensed and embraced on many levels by several of the cis-women who befriended  me. 

During this period of gender discovery, much of my life was a blur as I increasingly set my male self aside and allowed my woman self to flourish. As Paula put it so well, it wasn't a choice, it was an inevitable. 

Transgender Fun?

 

Photo from the 
Jessie Hart Collection

I am sure there has been a transphobic individual (or several) who have suggested being transgender is some sort of a phase or worse yet is pursued as some sort of a fun pastime. Perhaps for a brief time when I considered myself a serious cross dresser, the times I was able to pull out my feminine wardrobe and briefly tried to enter my dream world of being a girl/woman I was having fun too.  The problem was in a very short period of time (a matter of days) I would be back to resenting the male world I was being forced to live in. 

In those days, so called fun was difficult to come by. Perhaps a few of the Halloween adventures I managed to find fun, after I calmed down and was able to live just a moment of my true reality. In the moment it was fun to listen to the compliments I received on my pretty legs or "costume".  Again, all of the fun turned to frustration as I looked ahead to another year of hiding out in my gender closet before I could test my appearance in public. I couldn't comprehend how I could wait one more year until another Halloween rolled around. 

As the years went by and I began to understand more completely my total gender dysphoria, the more I understood the true complexity of the issues facing me. I was heavily influenced by the new friends I met when I was able to free myself up to attend special small mixers in nearby Columbus, Ohio. More precisely I was able to meet levels of people who spanned the gender spectrum from transvestite "admirers" dressed in their male clothes all the way to transsexuals who were preparing themselves for sex change surgery, as it was called back in those days. In many ways, as I explored where I fit in, I found I glimpsed my future. Examples included the rare times a few lesbians attended and I was attracted to them and a couple of times they were attracted to me. As well as the night I was put in a compromising position when a huge admirer made advances on me in a hallway. To my chagrin, my second wife had to bail me out of the situation. Sadly, what I never had a chance to do was communicate with a couple of the transsexual women I knew after their surgery to learn how life was treating them. Basically they followed the path of trying to disappear and restart their lives totally and I lost touch.

If all this learning was fun, then I had my share. I basically learned truths about myself which took any light heartedness out of my developing gender closet. I found my entire being was being questioned and I felt more natural as a transgender woman. After the term was invented and I was able to read up on it on the internet. Through it all, I still couldn't see myself as a total candidate for gender surgery as I still had too much to lose as my male self. Those days were certainly no fun as I continued to explore my femininity while at the same time trying to maintain a life as a macho male. The gender ripping and tearing nearly killed me. Thankfully I was able to replace fun with satisfaction on the days I was able to go out in the world and live a life without problems as a transgender woman. 

I would point out to all the transphobes who say somehow the entire transgender lifestyle is lived with any sort of trying to achieve fun, they are sadly mistaken. But, lives can be lived to achieve a high level of satisfaction when a high level of inner femininity is reached and a wonderful new lifestyle is found. 

Climbing the Gender Ladder

Image from Armand Khoury
on UnSplash

As I always point out, changing genders is an incredibly difficult and intricate task. For those of us who struggled for years just to fit in as part of the male world, undoing it all and joining the feminine side seems to be insane. Who would do that? Of course being a transgender woman or man, you would know the answer. We had no choice . All of it makes the thought pattern ridiculous to think we made a conscious choice to give up one life to transition to another. Again, we made the choice but often the decision involved a life or death situation. Which is what happened to me.  "JoannaS" recently commented on a similar idea I would like to share:

"What you are describing is incredibly common for a trans person as they advance into their identity. The focus on externals drops off and the internals become far more important. You have passed that awkward stage which is akin to another puberty and stabilize into every day living"

 Thanks for the comment! Looking back I think my advancement through another puberty and the stabilization process into living as a transgender woman was similar to climbing a ladder, then jumping off. At first it was difficult to shed all my male weight I was carrying around. Literally I took weight off to look better in my clothes and figuratively I had all the ingrained male responses to society I had picked up over my many years of living. An example would be I needed to replace the perpetual male scowl I had perfected to keep people away and replace it with a more feminine softer look. After all, the last thing I wanted to do was to have people think I was grumpy and/or unreachable. 

Through the process, as I climbed higher and higher on my new gender ladder, the more I understood again how I was afraid of heights. What would become of my life if I left all of my old male self behind and all the privileges I had accumulated. As, as Joanna said, when I finally was able to pass through another puberty, my thought processes cleared out and began to see what privileges a feminine life could offer me. The main benefit or privilege was I could feel natural in the world. Especially following beginning hormone replacement therapy, my universe went through a very real and welcoming softening. Sure my outward appearance softened with my skin but my inward feelings became more understanding to others around me as the effects of testosterone went away. 

What I couldn't understand was  why my male self was still fighting so hard to still hang around and control part of my life. The farther up I climbed along with my increasing ability to exist and communicate with my new world, still, there he was still tagging along. I needed to fight constantly to not dress for him but to blend in with the world was one example of many. Finally I climbed too high and was able to see my new feminine gender world for the wonderful future it offered. I just needed the courage to jump. What was left of my male self was telling me the landing would be a rough one and even result in a disaster. At the same time my suddenly stronger inner woman, emboldened by all her recent successes was pushing me to take the final leap of faith and jump.

You all know the rest of the story. I did summon up all the courage I could to live my life as a full time transgender woman. What I didn't realize how many new found women friends I had to help me into their world. It made me wonder again and again why I waited so long to jump off my gender ladder. 

Writing Your Own Script

Image from Brad Starky on
UnSplash

 It could be argued very few human beings ever have the chance to end one part of their life and start over legally without doing something completely wrong. As a transgender person, woman or man, we are blessed with the opportunity to do so.

Years ago, during our eleven year build up to becoming a married couple, my wife Liz said to me one day I had the chance to build a new person and what exactly would they be. Initially,  Liz referred to just my outwardly feminine appearance. Would I be a girly girl wearing makeup and dresses all the time or would I be a more "normal" woman in her mind who dresses up for mostly just special occasions.  At the time I had to consider what she was asking. Most certainly she was right in I had the chance to finally live my dream to live as a full time transgender woman. Little did I know then how many new changes or transitions I was in store for. 

The main one came when I threw out or donated all my old male clothes. I decided when I did, I formally made the transition from serious cross dresser or transvestite to a new transgender woman. Just going from occasionally changing my appearance  to living it was a huge change. When I did it, I knew gender play time was over and among other things, it was time for me to consider contacting a doctor and checking out if I was qualified to begin hormone replacement therapy.  At that time, changes to my life began to come at me too quickly on occasion. I did of course locate a doctor in suburban Dayton, Ohio who gave me a physical (which I passed) gave me quick advice on how my hair would grow as my sexual urges went away and basically sent me on my way with my introductory prescriptions to minimum dosage estradiol and testosterone blockers. Timing turned out to be everything when Liz and I got together for a New Years Eve date and I took the first dosages and started my future as a happy secure transgender woman. Before it all could happen, many changes would have to happen first.

The first major change was my hair did grow as fast as my breasts and I was able to stop wearing wigs for the first time in my life. I was so fortunate in that no male patterned baldness ran in the family. My biggest problem was being able to see the back of my head in the mirror so I could see how my hair looked since I couldn't fall back on simply turning the wig head anymore. Ironically, the rest of my feminization process was happening faster than I anticipated. With my budding breasts and softer skin, I started to appear very androgynous suddenly. I was pushed along into a world I wanted to be part of but was still terrified to join and write my own script.

As I began to dress as a woman daily, the desire to spend an inordinate amount of time on makeup and frilly clothes went away. Right or wrong, I began to fall back to the "every woman" casual look of jeans (or jean skirts) loose flowing tops to hide my thick torso and flat shoes for comfort. Liz's initial question was answered, I was certainly not a "girly-girl". It turned out, my fashion sense was going to be the least of my problems when I transitioned into a woman's world. All of a sudden, I had to exist the best I could in male dominated spaces such as auto shops and even car junk yards. I had quite the upbringing. Communication still was my biggest problem to conquer. 

Even though I tried my best to ignore men, they still make up a sizeable portion of the population which I needed to deal with. I don't think I have ever totally overcome all of my communication fears but I have been able to at least face them. 

Writing your own script for the second time in life can be a terrifying yet exciting experience. One most humans never have the opportunity to attempt. Very few can say they threw out the bad and brought in the good when they had the chance to live a life they often just dreamed of.       

The Good Old Days?

On a Good Adventure in 
Columbus from the Jessie
Hart Archives 

As a transgender woman of a few years, I have a tendency to look back at my life. When I do, often the positive memories out number the negative ones. Of course I remember the benefits of being younger and potentially more attractive.  I had substantially fewer wrinkles as we all do when we are younger but on the negative side, I had more and darker beard growth.  These days I can get away for the occasional close shave every couple of days with no electrolysis ever. 

Then there were all the other days when I seemingly wanted to force my way out of my closet by making very bad fashion choices and ended up being ridiculed by a discerning public. For years I was sure all the public was just looking at me. Heading home extremely depressed to the point of crying most certainly were not the good old days. As with anything else in life, I needed to learn the hard way on how to properly face the public as a feminine transgender woman before I could experience the days I remember so fondly now.

Ironically, so many of my so called positive experiences were more adventures than anything else. Since I was always under a self imposed curfew to be home and undressed before my wife arrived back from her job, I seemed some nights I was literally counting the minutes. Those were the early nights when I was approached by several different lesbians in a small venue I went to often. Perhaps on those adventures I did too good of a job projecting myself as a "lipstick" lesbian where I went with my tight jeans, boots and long blond hair. On the other hand, the more likely possibility was the other women knew what they were getting into and were just considering some experimentation. In those days my old male ego was still with me completely and I was very vain about how I looked as a woman. 

Another reason I had adventures was I put myself into situations where I could find them. I actively sought out venues where the possibility of being harassed ran high, just to see if I could get by. Those were the evenings I had the cops called on me all the way to being asked to leave one venue. Plus the worst night I can ever remember was when another woman verbally assaulted me in the women's restroom by calling me a pervert. Definitely not the good old days. Destiny was kind to me though. Normally when I was at my lowest point mentally with my long drawn out gender transition something came along to encourage me. I would use the term "gender euphoria" but I think all of this occurred well before the term was invented. What was really happening was I was beginning to learn the basics of gender survival I would need to survive a very rocky journey. I needed to learn the hard way being a woman was so much more than appearance. How I walked the walk and talked the talk became so much more important to me. Of course I still wanted to look my best and I kept my weight down as well as keeping my skin as feminine as possible. I began to look at shaving as the ultimate defoliator. 

All we can ask for in life is to get an even break. Even though the good old days may not have been that good, I was fortunate in that I was able to learn from them and survive.     

Transgender Inclusion

 

My Fave Girls. Liz on left, daughter on right
from the Jessie Hart Archives 

I actually survived my second "Seder" Jewish ritual service and dinner in fairly good shape. The one my wife Liz and I were invited to last year proved to be very uncomfortable due to my back's reactions to very uncomfortable chairs. This year I was greeted by my son in law to my own comfortable chair which ended up fitting perfectly with the table we ate at. I was so relieved. 

I also was happy my trans grandchild was the "moderator" and led the lengthy service which was partly in Jewish. Since lately I seem to struggle with English, speaking nay Jewish was certainly out of my reach. 

It turned out,  my grandchild who is re-enrolling in The Ohio State University this Spring seems to be coming out of their shell quite a bit and was there with their partner, whose name I promptly screwed up when we arrived. So much for making a good second impression. Which has been normally the story of my life. Open mouth, insert foot. 

Being included so totally in their rituals of the Jewish Faith has always been amazing to me. In fact, years ago at my oldest grandson's Bar Mitzfah  I was asked to get up in front of many people in his temple and have a part in the service. I was still early into my Mtf gender transition and was petrified but was able to come through it all unscathed.  I am not a real expert but the Jewish Temple my daughter and family belong to are Reform Jews and not the stricter Orthodox Jews which is possibly why I was welcomed and included with open arms.

For the day, as I wrote about briefly yesterday, since I was never allowed to even think about wearing a pretty, bight colored dress like the girls and women were allowed to wear,  I resorted to wearing my own bright colored clothes. What I attempted to do was wear as much as I could of the clothes and accessories my wife Liz has made for me over the years. She knitted me a pink and blue sleeveless sweater vest which I wore over a white camisole top and my bright patterned leggings. Then I added the earrings and hand beaded trans hair beret she made me. As I said yesterday, she is very talented and has her own shops on the Etsy craft platform under "Liz T Deigns" if you would like to visit it. 

Outside of being able to wear what I wanted to relieve myself of past anxieties, the best time I had was when my transgender grandchild made a special effort to sit down with Liz and I and discuss their advanced Physic's course she was taking soon at OSU when classes resume. They (chosen pronouns) most certainly didn't  get any of my genetics from me in the math or science area's of academia. I can barely add or subtract on a good day. I wish I could say I understood all they were talking about but I didn't. I was better suited in understanding the history behind the "Seder" ritual and how in it's own way intersects with all the problems going on today in the Middle East. 

 As I thought of all of sadness in the world and discrimination against the transgender population, my fondest hope is I can leave some sort of a legacy on how you can lead a successful life as a trans person. Being included in such an inviting ritual such as a "Seder" was a start.

It's Easter Weekend

 

Hand Beaded Trans Beret from
LizT Designs on Etsy

This weekend features the special observance days of several major religions around the world. As I was raised in a semi-serious religious home, we didn't do much for the Easter Christian religious observance. Of course I remember quite vividly how much I disliked  dressing up in the male restricting clothes such as a tie which I hated so much. I would have rather worn one of the pretty bright colored dresses all the girls my age were able to wear. At the time, the earth seemed to be tilted unfairly in the girls direction. 

Today, in a sense, I get just a bit of revenge on my past. My wife and I are attending a Jewish observance that we were invited to at my daughter's mother in law's house. Appetizers will be served before the formal observance which was well attended last year by mostly friends of my two out of three grandkids. Unfortunately, my grandchild who is transgender probably won't be there today because they live with their partner in Virginia which is quite the trip from Ohio. 

For the day, I have decided to brighten my wardrobe up for the Spring weather we are finally now beginning to see. I am wearing a sleeveless very light sweater top Liz handmade for me paired with my patterned bright colored leggings. I even went all out and put in my long unused earrings which again Liz made for me. Plus to spotlight my transgender status in this time of uncertainty, I am wearing the trans hand beaded hair beret which again was made by Liz. If you are catching a theme right now, you are right. Liz is very talented. 

So, in my own way to get even with the mean old days when I wasn't allowed to wear anything bright colored to Easter observations. I am going light and bright.  The only drawback is if I am going to be warm enough. I have decided to throw caution to the wind and wear my bright sleeveless outfit to the Jewish observation of "Seder". While I am not Jewish, my daughter is and it will be good to see her. 

Whatever what religion you may happen to have an Easter observance with this weekend, I hope you have a good one. 

Which Closet was It?

Restroom Photo from the
Jessie Hart 
Collection

 Is your perception of the gender closet you lived in (or live in) masculine or feminine?  Until I really began to think about it, I always thought my closet was built by my false masculine self to keep my stronger feminine inner being well hidden. I'm sure most of you faced the same problems as your old male became very proficient at laying new bricks in your closet as fast as your girl was trying to find ways to escape.

Because my girl self was the one in the closet, I considered it a feminine enclosure. I even went as far as remodeled a room in the house we were restoring as my makeover room. As I remember, I painted it a pastel shade, bought a used vanity and mirror and then decorated the walls with vintage pictures of beautiful film stars such as Marilyn Monroe. For some reason which will now be never known, my deceased wife went along with my idea of having a room my girl could call her own. Maybe she thought giving in and letting me decorate my own room would help alleviate my gender stress for awhile by allowing me to express myself.

The problem became was when (of course) just having a room for my clothes and makeup just wasn't enough.  No matter how nice it was, my new closet could not replace the allure of getting out in the world and finding out if I could exist in the world as a transgender woman. For the longest time I was able to stay in and interact with my wife or the mirror before I could stand it no longer and had to open the door of my cage and see the world for the first time. All went well when we set up new boundaries for awhile when we got together and decided once a week I was allowed to go out, rent a motel room out of town and dress as a woman. From there I could go out and explore my new exciting world. Sadly, for the sake of our relationship, none of what I was doing really helped. The more I was out of my feminine closet, the more I wanted to do. Essentially,  I was beginning to live my lifetime dream. The process felt so natural I never wanted to go back and rebuild a male closet to live in. 

In a very short span of time due to my new expanding life, my old life became shambles when I started to seize every opportunity I had to dress up and head out the door. What I was doing was breaking our agreement in regards to my gender expression and putting extra unwanted strain on our relationship. However, the more I was able to spend time out of my old male closet, the ripping and tearing of my overall life became unbearable.  In other words, the more I tried to live a portion of my life in each of the two main gender binaries all the time  the worse life became. Which eventually led me to a suicide attempt. It turned out to be just the latest in a string of incredibly self destructive events I attempted before her death from a sudden heart attack. 

I was so fortunate I was able to have a happy ending of sorts when I finally was able to escape all the negativity as well as my gender closet. In the end, it didn't matter if my cage was masculine or feminine. Only that I was able to escape all the problems which came from within the closet and live my truth as a full time transgender woman.