Visible Activism

 

Image from the Jessie Hart Archives

I came across the term "Visible Activism" from a comment I received yesterday from Charli. It was in response to the post I had written concerning Liz's hospital stay. The entire day and a half was a real emotional roller coaster for me.

In addition to the excessive walking along with hours of sitting in unforgiving chairs being tough on my bad back, facing all those new people who could question my gender made the day and a half a real challenge. To make a long story short, I faced quite a few people.

Years ago, I came to the conclusion that most people don't care if I am transgender or not. They are involved in their own lives and can't make room to add you into theirs. Then there are the people who may notice you and approve of you living as your authentic self as a trans woman or trans man. That is the point where visible activism comes into play. Just living your life as a person in the world when people see you, it opens the door for other positive interactions with others in the transgender community.

Then, there are the minority who see you as transgender and don't approve as if it is any of their business. Naturally, they are the problem people we all dread seeing or interacting with. Out of all the people I encountered in the last two days, I ran into nearly none who reacted in a very negative way to me. One was a very small child who somehow locked on to me in a crowd of people and kept shouting for his Mother to look before I was able to disappear into the masses. The other was a clerk at the pharmacy I went to later in the day to pick up meds for Liz. He called me "Sir" as I went on my way. By this time I was so exhausted by the day, I didn't say anything and just went on my way.

To be certain, visible activism can be difficult depending largely upon your ability to present well to the world. Some days I think I represent my feminine side fairly well while other days, when my gender dysphoria kicks in, my confidence level drops and I have a difficult time facing the world. Those are the days I have to assure myself that all is not as bleak as it seems. Plus, this is the life I chose and I gave up quite a bit to arrive at where I am. 

It is also important to note I made the choice to not have any sort of surgeries at all. No facial feminization or genital realignment work at all. I know in the eyes of the medical world, I still am a biological male just living as a female. At least that is what I have been told by a very out of sorts nurse. I doubt if I made any difference to her in her world which obviously wasn't going very well the day I encountered her. 

Other people in the world I hope I am more successful with. Because ,as another transgender day of remembrance rapidly approaches in November, it will be time again to think about all of those who did (and continue) to make the ultimate sacrifice just to live as their authentic selves. Especially with the political climate around the country, visible activism becomes so much more important. It shows the world we are here to stay. 

Thanks again to Charli for the comment! It meant a lot as I never think I am doing enough to help the transgender or LGBTQ community. 

Breaking Down Barriors

 

Image from Nick Fewings
on UnSplash

I made it through my first long, long day in a hospital waiting for the doctor to complete my wife Liz's two operations.

The day started quite early, around six thirty in the morning and involved initially just a few people who I needed to introduce myself to. I always wonder how I will be perceived when we tell other people we are married. I feel doing it sometimes give me a chance to possibly out myself to the world. Not to worry, everyone who met us was very nice and responded correctly to my gender which of course is "she and her." 

I needed a good start I found as I embarked on a very long day as I have written. My biggest problem is sitting in uncomfortable hard backed chairs for any length of time. The only type of chair available to me as I waited for hours and hours in the surgical waiting room. The only saving grace was the room had a free refreshment area with a good coffee machine plus free soft drinks and snacks. I quickly found I could mix a chocolate cappuccino which tasted fairly good. 

By noon, after I finally figured no one else in the waiting room had me to worry about, I had a chance to go to another waiting room where Liz was just coming out of surgery. Again I was treated nicely and was directed how to get to the cafeteria where I could have some much needed lunch. Getting there, I found, was going to be another challenge. By this time, my back was screaming at me and I was doing my best not to walk all hunched over. For some reason, I had forgotten to take any ibuprofen before I left the house. I paid the price as I had to find my way down to the cafeteria on very crowded elevators. On top of my gender dysphoria, I had to worry about being crowded into such a small space with so many people. 

Again, I had no problems navigating the cafeteria, even to the point of being called "Ma'am" when I ordered. Again the food was surprising good and before long I finished eating and headed back upstairs to the uncomfortable waiting room. Then the real wait started because after Liz came out of surgery, the hospital didn't have any rooms available as they were trying to get one cleaned. It took nearly four more hours of waiting before she got a room. By this time, I decided to head home and feed the cats and try to relax. 

Then I made a couple of wrong turns and became semi-lost during rush hour traffic in Cincinnati. My GPS finally kicked in and after a hour of stressful driving, I made it home. The cats were fed and I tried to lay down for a second and rest my aching back. I couldn't lay there long because I was still caffeine charged up and decided to head back to the hospital. When I did, I was much more successful in navigating the trip. Once I arrived I needed to check in as a guest and get registered which also was a challenge when the security guard who obviously was new finally found the room number where Liz was. 

We were able to visit for a couple hours after yet another long hospital walk. Plus I did manage to make the return trip home the correct way without any problems, including a stop to pick up some dinner.

Now, I need to wrap up this post and head back to the hospital. Hopefully, Liz will be released today. Hopefully I had the chance to meet other people who never have te chance to interact with a transgender person, their first experience and it was a good one.

Falling Leaves

Image from Melissa Askew
on UnSplash

We are coming close to the peak of fall weather here in Southwestern Ohio.

The leaves on our trees are beginning their seasonal changes to red and gold and are starting to fall from the trees. On top of all of that we have been blessed (so far) with fairly mild temperatures and sunshine. In fact, we will have several days in the seventies this week. All weather news aside, fall has always been a bittersweet time of the year for me. 

I positively loved the fashion changes the cooler weather brought about. Primarily because I could cover all the pesky arm hair I couldn't cover with summer fashions with any long sleeved tops or blouses. I couldn't shave my arms because I needed to wear short sleeves on occasion when I worked in the kitchen at work. I also was/am fond of the leggings I acquired. My thought pattern is the tight leggings gave my legs a feminine shape. Completing my outfits, I normally wore fuzzy, oversized sweaters. My wardrobe even was approved by my ultra critical second wife. For the most part, this was the sweet part of the bittersweet term.

The bitter portion came when I stopped to consider the overall changes of the season. I vividly remember when I was coming home one night when I was living in Bowling Green, Ohio shortly before I went into the Army. The wind was blowing leaves across the road ahead of me in my headlights. Even in my pre-hormonal days, I nearly cried when I thought of all the upcoming changes which were coming in my life. Not only could I not pursue my gender goals, it was looking as if I couldn't even cross dress in my feminine clothes at all for the three years when I was in the military. All of the sudden, the weight of the world was coming down on me. On top of that, my fiancé at the time decided to break up with me because I was a cross dresser so I was all alone in my time of need.

To add insult to injury, I was able to bring a small wardrobe of clothes, wig and makeup with me to dress up in the apartment when my other roommates were away for break. I came home one night and after I did my prep work (shaving my legs and face) I went to look for my clothes and they were gone. Someone I discovered my hiding place and taken it all. I was equal parts mad and devastated because I just didn't have the courage to bring it up to my roommates when they returned from winter break. Besides, by this time, I only had a few weeks before I needed to report to Ft. Knox, Kentucky for basic training. I managed to salvage a bit of fun in the situation knowing how little humor a drill sergeant would have had if I showed up in a mini skirt. So I didn't need the clothes anyhow.  

These days, since I have transitioned into a transgender woman's life as far as I want to, I can enjoy the fall weather and leaves for what they are. A beautiful reminder of how life and seasons change for the better, even if I know the cold of winter isn't so far away. Without ever trying to look too far ahead, I know after the drab winter months, the green leaves and grass returns for another warm season. I mention often how the seasonal changes are fun for me because I can examine my feminine wardrobe and update it for the season ahead, Something I was always jealous of the cis-women around me during most of my life. I represented the drab winter too much it seemed while the women were able to explore new colors and fashions when the seasons changed. 

I guess you can say, I paid my seasonal fashion dues the difficult way and can now try to enjoy my new feminine transgender life. I view it this way, I lived nearly sixty years as a man and now I have lived over ten years as a transwoman. I had a lot of catching up to do. All the cross dressing in the world couldn't make up for the fact I couldn't take the final step and transition. The only good feelings I could take away from all my crossdressing experiences in the world were, at the least, I leaned many lessons of what I was getting myself into when I left the male world and entered the world of women. It wasn't easy as I needed to learn to play in the girl's sandbox before I earned my way in.

Witches Come Together

 

Witches Ball Photo from the
Jessie Hart Archives...

Not so long ago, I was part of a group of Wiccans who put together sizeable parties every Halloween called "Witches Balls."

At it's peak, over five hundred people attended in a very appropriate huge vintage venue across the Ohio River from Cincinnati. Liz and I had plenty of experiences with the event because we went on several dates there before we were involved with organizing it. One of my fondest memories came when the Johnny Depp/Jack Sparrow impersonator flirted with me one year when the party was featuring pirates and also belly dancers. I also enjoyed watching the sexy gyrations of the dancers as I was given a chance to sit down with Liz and kick off my heels and watch. As much as I was enjoying wearing the heels, I was still paying the price for wearing them too long. 

Of course, since it was Halloween, costumes were an intricate part of the event and I was always on the outlook for the occasional cross dresser whose look was just a little too good. As close as I ever came was when I ran into a Facebook acquaintance who is also transgender who was selling her jewelry at the party. Overall, I was surprised I never was able to see anyone else who dressed as a woman for the evening. One thing for sure, I didn't need anyone else's approval  and I had a great time. 

Sadly, the larger witches ball's have become a thing of the past around Cincinnati and now are only held in smaller venues such as bars or taverns. So Halloween has increasingly become another rather boring day. However, I will be forever in debt of Halloweens past as they opened doors for me to express my true self long before I ever thought it was possible. We don't even have enough young trick or treaters stop by to see if any of the young boys are still dressing as cheerleaders. 

I do miss also the huge volunteer organizational effort it took to enable the events to happen at all. The feel good portion of the whole affair happened when we were able to donate a fairly large sum to one of the local homeless shelters. Karma is real and it is always nice to pay forward when you can. 

Since I live fulltime as a transgender woman for so long now, I don't need the feminine experience of a Halloween costume to shore me up. But on occasion I still miss what Halloween did for me in my life. Along the way, it became my most important, influential holiday. It opened my eyes to what could be possible and I could actually live out my gender dreams.   

Welcome to Hell

Inside "Casa Susanna" A dream trip I never made. 

My early days of dealing with a severe case of gender dysphoria can only be described as being in hell.

For those of you who can remember the dark days of information before the internet and social media, you also recall the days of being completely alone in your dark gender closet. Since I was raised in a very male dominated family, I knew escaping my own closet was going to be difficult at it's best. I was forced to sneak around behind my family's back to steal away the time to cross dress in my small stash of girls clothes and makeup. I even resorted to storing away my clothes and a spare mirror in plastic bags in a hollowed out tree in the woods next to our house.

Through it all, I knew the whole process of dressing as a girl made me feel better but somehow would have to be enough to get me by. I followed the vicious cycles of feeling the gender euphoria of being feminine in my mirror with deep depression when I was denied access to my clothes. I learned very early I wanted to do more than look feminine, I wanted to be feminine. Way before the term transgender was ever invented. to put the date in perspective, I would have been in the 1960's before I hit my teenaged years and still years away from my military duty and discovering Virginia Prince and her "Transvestia" publication which only dealt with so called heterosexual cross dressers or transvestites. I mention "Tranvestia" again because it was my first link to other like minded people. 

From then on, I knew I wasn't alone and could even go to transvestite mixers which were within driving distance of me. Even though I had discovered others, it turned out I was still dealing with my own personal hell. I still needed to be able to deal with the gender euphoric times followed by longer periods of gender dysphoric down times. Ironically I brought much of my hell on myself by not knowing the best ways to dress and apply makeup to best present my inner female to the public world. I had a difficult time dealing with all the stares, all the way to laughter when I tried to take on the world. Once I began to learn how to best handle the public, along came the Army to disrupt my life. As much as I didn't really want to experience military life at all, specifically I didn't know how I could exist three long years without having a chance to express my feminine self. For years, as I waited for the Vietnam War to draft me, I went through hell considering it's ramifications to me.

One way or another, I made it through the three years and couldn't wait for the relative freedom I had to escape my own personal gender hell, no matter how briefly. 

My big escape came when I made the highly personal decision to stop considering myself a cross dresser when I went out and I transitioned into thinking of myself as a transgender woman. Semantics to be sure but a huge move for me mentally. By mentally transitioning I was able to take a huge step out of my own personal gender hell. In many ways, I entered my golden years of MtF gender transition by leaving much of my hell behind and be able to increasingly explore the world. 

From then on I was able to free myself from my gender dysphoric hell and start to live my dream life as a transgender woman. Although I want to say the process was worth it, I wouldn't wish my journey on my worst enemy.

Coming Out to Employees?

 

Halloween Witches Ball Image
Liz on Right 

As we rapidly approach Halloween and my wife Liz's operation coming up, I thought it was time  for another Halloween experience while I still had time. 

This one happened when I was managing a fast food restaurant just outside of the New York City  metro area. More precisely, very close to the Bronx. As Halloween rolled around, once again  I was stressing out about what I was going to wear. The pressure was on since it was nearly impossible for me to leave the house we lived in dressed as my feminine self. I was back in the mode of waiting another year to escape from my mirror until the next Halloween rolled around.

As I faced the pressure head on, I decided to go all out as I decided what my "costume" was going to be. I put together what I thought would be a potentially a sexy look without crossing the line into being trashy. I pulled out my shortest dress, along with my highest heels. Most certainly, my wife's most hated outfit on me. In this case, I used her motivation of me to spur me on. For once, since she wasn't going anyhow, I decided she would have to get over it. I would have to put up with her displeasure with me for the next several weeks but it was worth it for me to pursue my dreams.

As I said, my outfit was going to be short and sexy as I to the best of my ability fool the world to what my true gender was all about. Little did I know, I would be able to find a situation where I was able to blend right in. 

As it turned out, one of my assistant (woman) managers was going out to one of her local taverns to celebrate Halloween with her friends and she invited me along. After I dressed, did my makeup and hair and was ready to go. When I arrived at my manager's house, it turned out the friends she was going with turned out to all be tall and beautiful . As it turned out, by pure accident, At least in the height department., I fit right in. When I first saw all of them, as the room grew silent, you could have heard a pin drop. Time seemed to stop for me as they examined me from head to toe. Of course I could only guess what they were thinking as we left for the short walk to the venue where we were going. Thank goodness for me (in my heels) it was not a long walk.

As we arrived, I learned a valuable lesson about being with other single women who were attractive. The first thing the women did was essentially split and worked the room. They left me on my own which was an experience in itself. After I bought a drink and found a seat at a small table, I settled in to try to enjoy my evening in the world as a novice transgender woman or even a transvestite. And it turned out, the night was far from over. As I tried to sit by myself, I attracted attention from an older guy who kept bugging me to dance. Which I refused although deep down I was flattered. Finally, the night was over, the group of women broke up and headed their own ways. 

I ended up back at my restaurant which I knew was closed by then. What I didn't count on was, the closing crew would just be getting done and they would see me in my "costume." Surprisingly to me, the response was positive even to the point of one of the guys saying I had good legs. 

More importantly, the backlash from me dressing as a woman for Halloween was a non starter for most of my crew and life went on. The only variable was my assistant manager who I think couldn't wait to tell my boss who smiled at me differently for awhile. However it was New York and there were bigger issues to deal with than me dressing as a woman for Halloween. Which was one of the reasons I wanted to move there from our native Ohio to begin with. 

As far as my second wife went, she finally made me pay my dues as only a woman knows how to do. I learned from it and moved on. Knowing I had been able to experience a truly wonderful evening to think about and remember forever. 

Pre-Political Meetup

Image from the 
Jessie Hart Archives...

 Long ago, following a few of my Halloween adventures when I did my best to stay away from looking trashy on Halloween. I was determined to do my best this night to be mistaken for a cis-woman. 

I decided to attend a party I was invited to as a professional business woman. The get-together was being held at a restored Victorian mansion which was owned by a casual friend I knew. A wide range of people were invited. I worked at a radio station in town at the time and since my first wife never really was into Halloween, I was left on my own to find someone else to accompany me. It turned out one of the news reporter women at the radio station had an invitation also, so we agreed to go together.

In no time at all, it was time to put together my "costume." I started with shaving my legs and putting on a brand new pair of panty hose. From there, it was very easy to choose an outfit from my growing feminine wardrobe. The years have clouded my memory so I do not exactly remember what I wore except it included heels and my red wig which I loved so much. Of course when my "date" saw me she was amazed and amused I would go to such lengths to be noticed on Halloween. Plus she was more than impressed when I was able to do such a good job walking in heels "for the first time." 

When we arrived, the hosts had done a wonderful job of decorating their old mansion. Even including a vintage glass topped coffin with a real skeleton. Most importantly, I was able to relax and enjoy being out of my gender closet for the first time in a year in public. I was truly a novice transgender woman just exploring the possibility for the first time if I could be accepted in the feminine world. 

As the night progressed, guests came and went and the alcohol flowed. Also I was receiving plenty of positive feedback on my "costume." I had made the correct choice to dress as a professional woman for the party. Most of the other guests assumed I was just arriving late from work and didn.t have a chance to dress up. Which was exactly my goal. 

The most flattering happening came when this couple approached me and said how impressed they were with my "look." They were totally fooled into thinking I was a woman. Through it all, I recognized the man and his wife as a newly elected politician on his way to Washington, DC. Plus they wanted me to tag along with them to another party they were going to,. Since I didn't know where they were going and was with someone else, I had to politely decline the invitation. Leaving me to forever wonder what would have happened if I had decided to go along with them. 

Who knows? Perhaps my political career was ended before it even had a chance to begin. At any rate, the evening turned out to be a blast and my "date" never mentioned how I looked again. It wasn't too long when she landed another news job and moved away anyhow. 

As far as the politician goes, he turned out to be re-elected several times to congress. I lost track of him also when his political career was over. I stayed friends with the owners of the mansion over the years until I moved away and they divorced. Maybe deep down inside I was disappointed no one brought up how I looked on Halloween that night so long ago. I was probably desperately trying to out myself and no one cared. Or I was so good at hiding my feminine side with my intense male self, no one could see my true self. 

It wasn't to be until years later, my feminine self finally took control and Halloween "costumes" became a thing of the past for me.

Secure Beginnings

 

1966 Transvestia Cartoon

This morning I read a post by a transgender man I follow on another writing format. 

The number one fact I took away from his post was how accepting his grandparent was when he was growing up. In fact, the grandparent took him to get his hair cut and purchased him clothes to match his authentic gender. After I read the post I responded by saying how good it must have been to have a supporting person in their life. 

Sadly, I was never able to take advantage of having anyone even knowing about or having any inkling about my gender issues. I knew without any shadow of a doubt, I was expected to be a boy in all aspects of my life. My parents were of the "Greatest Generation" which was the WWII and Great Depression generation. As a child growing up in the 50's, I was expected to fit neatly into a square male hole and survive the best I could. in a world I did not embrace.

The entire experience of being totally alone in the world as a boy who wanted to be a girl led me quickly to extreme cases of gender dysphoria. It wasn't until many years later when I learned of Virginia Prince and her "Transvestia" publication did I discover there actually other transvestites as they called themselves back then. Thinking back, I am fairly sure the publication was mailed out every two months and I couldn't wait until the next one arrived. Thanks to "Transvestia", I was able to learn about actual mixers which were close enough for me to go meet  other cross dressers or transvestites. As I began to see others in those mixers up close and personal, I learned how many levels of difference there were in a community which I imagined to be so similar. For example, the idea of the mixer being for only heterosexual transvestites only was quickly dispelled when too many of the participants disappeared behind  their hotel room doors too quickly.

Ironically, through it all, I still didn't feel as if I had found any sort of a home with others who supposedly were supposed to feel similar to me. Looking back, I think it was because the concept of being transgender had not been widely publicized at the time. I knew I did not belong with the cross dressers trying to deny their male selves or the transsexuals in the group considering radical gender realignment surgery. In those days, anyone who went down the surgical path was recommended to move away and begin a totally new life. As severe as my gender dysphoria was at the time. I couldn't imagine myself doing all of that.

It took awhile but I eventually stopped blaming my parents for ignoring my gender issues. Part of it was my fault for never attempting to tell them what was really bothering me, so I took the traditional male approach and just bottled it all up. I hid it all so well until the night after I returned home from the Army. I came home late from drinking my share of beer and found my Mom waiting up for me. We started to talk and along the way, I tried to come out to her. She followed her instincts and offered to pay for mental health counselling and I followed mine and never brought it up to her again. She has long since passed away so the best I could do to honor her anyhow was to change my new legal middle name to hers nearly five years ago. 

I needed to realize the "Greatest Generation" was good at providing and not so good at emotional support,  at least in my family. Once I accepted the facts of my upbringing, I really needed to work hard to not repeat the cycle of my upbringing. Once I began to feel secure in my transgender life, I was able to  do it.    

First Impressions

 

Picnic Photo, Liz on Right

Following up on my Halloween post from yesterday, I began to think of all the first impressions I noticed when I first went out in public as my cross dressed feminine self.

My biggest takeaway from the experiences came when I was interacting with men I knew. Nearly immediately I felt a rejection as if I had been excluded from the male club. Later in life, I would figure out I was just experiencing a loss of my male privileges. The better I presented as a trans woman, the quicker my male life went away. When I did, I learned I needed to live my public life with a perceived loss of intelligence and personal security among other things. I just didn't realize in those early days of public interaction exactly what I was experiencing. 

Along the way I also learned how the power of first impressions changes between the binary genders. Men seemed to concentrate on sizing other men up as more or less another threat while women were more accepting. To this day, I need to adjust to smiling first when I meet another woman and not to walk around with what is left of my old male scowl on my face. The problem I have is pre-judging the reaction someone else is going to have to me. You would think by now I would not be so affected by my thoughts anymore but I am. Most likely my thoughts still come from when I first started meeting up with the public. Halloween or not.

First impressions also involve how much confidence you have in yourself. When you can summon the courage to know without a doubt you are in the right place at the right time leads others to believe you are too. In her own way, my wife Liz encourages me to step forward as a confident transgender woman when we are interacting with the public in places such as restaurants. Even so, confidence in public can be a very fragile thing as I found out very early. Even when I was going out under the cover of having a Halloween "costume." 

The more parties I went to, the better I became at refining my outfits. I wanted to try my best to be mistaken for a genetic or cis-woman and not myself. The good news was it actually worked on occasion and the bad news was I needed to wait another year before I could build on my experiences and discover if I could really be able to ever live out in the world as a trans woman. Spoiler alert, I could but the process was to be a very difficult one for me. 

The first problem I had was figuring out which wardrobe I could choose to hide my testosterone poisoned male body. I started the process by losing nearly fifty pounds and finished by undertaking HRT or hormone replacement therapy. When I did, more and more I was pushed out of my old male comfort zone and into a new and sometimes terrifying feminine world. I had to learn all over again the power of first impressions and how to deal with people. 

For the most part, my life experiences now have been positive ones. The problem people I run into often have a negative world of their own which has nothing at all to do with me. I am merely invading their space. 

It is the best I can do!