We Met in a Mirror

Image from Laura Chouette 
on UnSplash

Along the way I have vivid recollections of how I met most of the memorable cis (or natural born) women in my life. As it turned out, I married several of them. 

Perhaps the most important woman I met was myself when I glimpsed her for the first time in a full length mirror we had at home when I was growing up. All I really remember is the feeling of gender euphoria I felt. Something clicked mentally and I knew somehow, someway I needed to try to cross dress again and even do my best to perfect the image staring back at me. 

Over the years, the problem became I became too addicted to what the mirror was showing me. For as much as I loved playing in the mirror, I was to learn the hard way the whole process was a one way street. As I broke out of my gender closet and into the world, the public did not see me the same as the mirror did. Stares and laughter all too often followed me around during my earliest gender adventures as a novice cross dresser. 

Still I persisted and learned without the help of the women in my life. The only one who tried turned out to be a dismal failure. She was my fiancé from my college days and I talked her into dressing me head to toe as a woman. I say failure because after she was done, I did not see much improvement over my efforts. Plus, over time, she held my gender issues against me and even wanted me to tell the military I was gay to stay out of the Vietnam War. Something I never did and went off to serve my three years, away from her. Which was a real blessing from many angles. 

From there I stayed mostly single until my last year in the Army when I met my first wife who was in the Women's Army Corps, also stationed where I was in Germany. We stayed together after both of us discharged all the way to when we had my only child, a daughter. My first wife knew of and mostly accepted the fact I was a cross dresser before we were married and was never really bothered about it. During this time I was beginning to learn my new life was everything but living in a mirror. I was beginning to take on the world as my authentic self when I met my second wife.

I was working at a radio station in Ohio where we met and I just knew I had to divorce my first wife and be with her. She was so full of life and strong willed, I thought she might do me good and went all out to be with her. Through it all, she as my first wife knew I was a cross dresser and accepted it also. We were married for twenty five years until she passed away from a massive heart attack at the age of fifty. Till the day she died nothing changed about how she viewed my cross dressing but she firmly drew the line at no HRT hormones or for me going towards being a transgender woman at all. 

As I wrote in my post yesterday, I was between the rock and the hard place when if came to my transgender issues. I had taken the steps to firmly move out of the mirror and into the world. The mirror became the place where I just checked myself out every morning to see if I looked masculine or the least bit feminine. Most of the time setting off my gender dysphoria or despair. I finally came to the conclusion nothing was as bad as it seemed or as good as the mirror tried to tell me. I had come to the middle point I needed to meet in the mirror.   

Emotional Blackmail

Image from Callum
Skelton on UnSplash

Emotional blackmail is another of those terms or labels which is difficult to describe or understand.

The way I look at it is, the blackmail describes the portion of my life I lived with my second wife when we constantly battled over my increasingly feminine gender identity. In fact, now, in hindsight I look at the time when two strong women were clashing with each other. My wife and the other was me. Every time I was successful when I went out as a transgender woman, the bigger our fights became. Examples included the time when I went to a transvestite or cross dresser mixer when we lived in New York. The gatekeepers who were placed to keep cis-women out made me show my identification to prove I really was a guy. The entire incident put me on cloud nine for days following but on the other hand, made me very difficult to live with. Predictably, my wife and I clashed and my inner woman felt who was my wife anyway. 

As life went on, the emotional blackmail continued and even worsened. Our sex life worsened because I insisted on making love as two women. She hated the idea and all activity ground to a halt until she passed away. It was during this time also when I was sneaking out more behind her back and meeting new people for the first time. Ironically, I was approached by way more women than men and primarily became friends with lesbians for some reason. Whatever the reason was, I was enjoying the new company I had found and was able to learn so many things from them. One night on one of my gender parties I went to I ended up leaving with a single lesbian woman and going to a dance club in Columbus, Ohio. Nothing physical happened so I considered it another case of emotional cheating I was doing to my wife of twenty five years.

Sometimes I wondered if the emotional blackmail I was subjecting my wife to was worse than any other form of abuse. Sadly or not, I couldn't do anything about my quest to understand and be a better woman. Probably, what was left of my old male self who loved my wife dearly and on occasion had enjoyed our life together was the biggest obstacle to changing it all and coming out fulltime. He kept screaming at me to not give up and the ripping and tearing of living between two genders nearly killed me. Plus, after or during one of our biggest fights, my wife told me something to the tune of why didn't I be enough of a man to be a woman. It would have certainly have been the best way out of the torment if I had only listened. Of course I didn't. 

I was one of the fortunate transgender women as I found a soft landing spot with plenty of assistance when I transitioned. I learned to rely on my feminine instincts which had been ignored for so long as my new life began to take shape. And most importantly emotional blackmail faded into my past as something which never really happened. We all know it did. It wasn't right and I wasn't a strong enough person to do anything about it. 

The Essence of Being Transgender

 

Go Buckeyes! Image from the
Ohio State Union...

It is very difficult to explain to another person why you are a transgender woman or trans man. 

I can only compare it to why a cis-woman just knows she is a feminine person. To just say I was born this way is a huge over simplification. To begin with just being assigned female or male at birth does not necessarily guarantee you will ever make it to being a woman or a man. Many people just don't for whatever reason. Perhaps you have encountered a person or two (or several) in your life who never seemed to grasp the ideals of their supposed gender. In most cases, they became unhappy and unfulfilled people. 

Transgender people have it harder since we were forced into boxes we did not want to be in. Or, the old square peg into the square hole status. First we trans individuals had to figure out what our problem was then try to have an idea what to do about it. In most cases we had to come out fighting to claim our limited space in society.

In many cases we faced other women who pushed back on our transgender essence...even trans women who wanted to say you were not trans enough to be included in their little clubs. These women were not unlike other cis-women (natural born females) who resisted our inclusion into their worlds. These transphobes or TERF's did and can attempt to make life miserable for unsuspecting transgender women. I have never figured out what their true problem was or is. I faced it head on one night at a lesbian Valentine's Day dance Liz and I went to. A lesbian came up to me and rudely asked what my "real" name was and was very nasty before she finally gave up and went her own way.

I have never figured out why other women would not want to be more inclusive of us and broaden their population base. Especially with all the attacks women are facing on all sides in politics and with personal safety. I write often how quickly I learned what could happen when my personal safety male privilege was taken away. I was cornered by a huge man at a party and had to be rescued by my second wife one night and then much later was stopped by two men when I was alone at night outside a gay bar in an a dark, lonely urban setting. I learned quickly never to be alone again in those situations. 

I guess the problem of explaining essence is because it is so vague. It has always been so difficult to tell others I have always known I am transgender simply because I was. I am as much as a woman as anyone else. I just had to take a different path to arrive at my goal of jumping from an unwanted male life to a fulltime feminine one. 

If they don't listen or can't understand, it is their problem. Not mine.

Gender Pilgrimage

 

Gender Pilgrim Troye Sivan

At the age of seventy four I often look back at my life and wonder how I was able to navigate the ups and downs of a gender pilgrimage. 

The way I have been able to separate my path is to roughly divide it into three segments which over simplifies the process but at the same time, makes it easier for my noggin to grasp. 

The first and most foggy time of my gender life was my early childhood. I don't remember exactly when I had a concrete idea of wanting to be a girl. I finally came to the conclusion it was around the age of ten. It was about this time when I started to explore the delights of feminine clothing from my Mom's wardrobe. From then on I started to save my allowance money as well the meager funds I earned from delivering newspapers to the rural customers we lived around. I had a powerful motivation to earn my own money and purchase makeup or clothes depending on what I could afford. 

The whole process set me firmly up for a nearly half century of cross dressing. As you can guess I had plenty of time to try different things while I experimented more and more deeply with being a woman and leaving my male life and privileges behind. I write often how I went about meeting other transvestites for the first time all the way to being approached by men. I was on cloud nine for weeks following an adventure I had after being made over by a professional at a cross dresser mixer I went to. Afterwards when I tagged along with the group I called the "A" listers, in a bar we ended up at, I was the only one approached by a guy who wanted me to stay and have a drink with him. The entire evening validated my desire to be a woman more often and at the same time made me hell to live with.

Sadly, I was destined to live this way for years, twenty five to be exact as I punished my wife for how I felt. I drank too much and tried to outrun my gender problems by changing jobs and moving to different states such as New York from our native Ohio. Instead of making my pilgrimage easier, I was attempting to make it ever harder. It almost killed me in the process as my mental health declined. The ripping and tearing of living between the two primary binary genders was just too much. I had to decide which way to go and made the choice to live in the future as a transgender woman. The problem was I was in my early sixties when I decided to leave my cross dresser phase and begin HRT or hormone replacement therapy. 

Of course now I am in the third phase of my gender pilgrimage and feel so relieved to having left all the turmoil of my male life behind. I know I did not make the wrong choice because I feel so natural with my life now. Out of an extreme level of caution, I certainly did well but on the other hand, I don't regret the male life I was able to live. Among other things, he gave me a wonderful accepting daughter and helped open the door to a relationship which led to a marriage to my wife Liz. 

I look at it this way, I was fortunate to have earned a dual gender citizenship by living on both sides of the border. An often long and difficult pilgrimage made it all possible.    

The Light

Image from Junior
Ferriero on UnSplash

 
Sadly, most transgender women or trans men experience complete darkness in their gender closet before they are able to come out and explore the world.

Of course in the pre-internet period, gender information was very difficult to come by and it wasn't until pioneers such as Virginia Prince came around did printed material begin to surface on a regular basis. As well as the so called transvestite mixers which began to crop up in other areas except the East coast. For those of us in the Midwest and other places, finding and meeting other like minded cross dressers seemed to be the impossible dream. The light in the gender closet was dim to say the least. 

Perhaps the worst part of seeing the light was determining exactly what it was. Could it be a beneficial beginning to escaping the severe gender dysphoria I was facing, or was it merely the light of a train rolling uncontrollably towards me. At any point of time, discovery of my feminine desires could lead to severe consequences to the male life I had worked so hard to survive in. It took me years and even decades to figure out the light wasn't the train. Partly because of all the time I wasn't sure it wasn't the train.

Those were the dark days of my gender despair. The days of venturing out in the public's eye only to be laughed at and rejected which led to ill-advised "purges" of my feminine wardrobe. Somehow, deep down, I knew the "purge" would only last a few days and the fleeting freedom I felt wouldn't last. I was right and before long, my desire to rebuild a feminine wardrobe and wear it became strong again. This time I wanted to climb on board the train and ride it to a new found transgender freedom, away from my old male self.  Rather than the light at the end of the tunnel being a negative, I deeply wanted to turn it into a positive.

It was approximately this time of my life, in my thirties and early forties, when I met others whom I could identify with as far as my gender struggles went. I found I didn't have to drive far to Columbus, Ohio for small mixers with a diverse group of people ranging from cross dresser admirers all the way to transsexuals. All of the sudden, the light became a beacon on what my life could become if I worked on it hard enough. I found achieving my possible goal of living a feminine life meant so much more than just appearances. My second wife kept pounding on me to be more and I took a long time to realize what she was saying. Surviving as a trans woman would mean learning to live a new multi-layered life.

Even though I had made it a huge priority to study women all my life, I needed to use the light to take my studies to another level. Think of it this way, I was pursuing a new masters program in gender before I could put the male past behind me and move forward.

Finally I arrived at a point where my closet door had opened widely and my long hidden feminine self was able to take over. She was able to take over the light and enable it to be so much brighter.

Ode to Halloween

 

Halloween image from
the Jessie Hart Archive (Tom on
Left)

I have lived long enough to experience Halloween coming full circle.

Early in life I experienced the urge to wear a feminine costume but never had the courage to break out of my gender closet and do it. Plus I lived in such a small rural area, there weren't too many kids to go around and once you were pigeon holed into a certain category with your peer group you couldn't get out.  Examples included friends who were good or bad students as well as those who were always the outstanding athletes in the class. There was never any space for a stray boy who wanted to be a girl.

So I had a deeper reason never, ever express my feminine longings at all on Halloween. On top of all of that, I never saw any other boys who were dressed as girls. No cheerleaders, princesses or any of the stereotypes from the female world. The only time I can remember ever seeing a fellow male in drag or cross dressed was for selected festivals in high school. I was amazed at their male to female transformation. Plus I did hear the gossip concerning another guy in school I didn't really know who was dressed in his sister's clothes for his "costume" as the rumor went. I was so envious!

Once the years progressed and I naturally achieved more freedom to be my own person, I was able to pursue more courageous goals as far as Halloween went. I tentatively used the holiday to sneak out of my closet and explore. Could I dare make it in public as my feminine self. Very early I learned lessons I could take with me for years as I transitioned. I found if I dressed more conservatively at Halloween I indeed could have a chance to present well in the public's eye as a woman. As it turned out, all of this would be just the beginning of what I could learn on my ever rocky gender journey. 

Halloween made it possible for me to understand I could indeed live a life as my authentic feminine self. The only real problem came when I could only experience my terrifying yet exciting new life once a year. I was increasingly forced into the real world to learn my new gender lessons. All of which were made possible by Halloween.

Ironically, the more I learned from my initial experiences, the more I found the lessons would serve me well when I transitioned into a world ran primarily by women. If I could get other women to accept me, the better and easier I would have it. I also learned the hard way the process I would need to go through with men to attempt acceptance. Along the way, when I learned the better I presented at Halloween parties as a woman, the more of my male privileges were lost. Almost instantly, my old male friends began to leave me alone with the rest of the women. 

These days I have gone full circle with Halloween. It has served it's purpose of launching my journey down a path to be a full time transgender woman. So I don't have any need to go to any parties with elaborate costumes. I have done all of that and it is time to sit back and recognize Halloween for all the amazing experiences I was provided.

Forces of Nature

Image from the Jessie Hart
Archives

 As we go through life as transgender women or trans men, we just have to develop a hard shell of sorts to get us by.

Sadly, we often have to resort to hiding and sneaking around our family's back to at the least keep our gender dysphoria issues at bay. At least in my case, even though I wasn't proud of it, I spent hours or even days trying to figure out how I could do my cross dressing. Even to the point I wish I could get back just a portion of the creative energy I expended on dressing like a girl. Obviously, it is way too late now to worry over expended energy as the entire process made me stronger.

Little did I know, I would need all of the strength I could summon to make it through my upcoming long and twisted gender journey. Along the way, I needed to survive all the unkind external forces I would end up facing. Before I grasped the importance of learning how to cross dress my male body to blend into the world. Possibly the biggest lesson I needed to learn was cis-women ran the world I wanted to be a part of. Without the women's help and approval, there would be no way I would be allowed to play in their sandbox, as I like to refer to it as. 

To be a force of nature, I needed to learn to be a gentle force. In other words I needed to play off my gender differences. I could never try to claim my womanhood the same way my friends did but I could claim my right to admittance to being a woman because I had always felt deep down I had always felt feminine. All the way to the point I had always been a student of everything feminine. I paid my own dues in so many ways to finally pave my path to my trans womanhood. One of the most amazing parts of my journey came when I was chosen to be a part of a photo shoot here in Cincinnati which featured all sorts of different kinds of women. 

Being a force of nature is often a burden also. On occasion I think people expect too much from transgender women or trans men. For the same reason we are feared in some circles these days, other people want to hate on us as a community. Mainly because they don't understand our lifestyle. It is especially evident to me when it comes to certain politicians I have recently seen. Primarily when my "gay-dar" immediately went off when I saw the new Speaker of the House who has repeatedly issued homophobic comments. 

All in all, it takes every bit of knowledge we trans people have acquired to make it in a world hostile to us. In a climate where certain political parties and religions are trying to erase us, the fact remains we have always been here and always will. 

Rest assured, we are true transgender forces of nature. Trained to do our best to survive as a tribe and never go back. 

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.