Veterans Weekend

 

Civil War Cemetery image from 
the Jessie Hart archives.  

Since I am a veteran of the Army during the Vietnam War era, I feel as if I can expand the observance of Veterans Day to more than one day.

Veterans I think should be recognized for their service as well as their sacrifice. It should be noted many vets joined the military to try to outrun their gender issues. Or, the well worn, the military will make me a man theory. More than a few transgender people tried the same method by getting married and having children. In my defense, I did neither. I was in essence drafted into the military and decided to get married to my first wife just ahead of the birth of my only child. 

Interestingly, since I now live as a transgender woman, most of my friends and acquaintances don't remember at all that I am a veteran. As such, I receive very few thanks from anyone for my service. Then again, it fits right in with my experience as a Vietnam Vet. For those who don't remember or aren't old enough, the war was very unpopular. Even to the point of taking it out on the people who served. I gave my Army uniform to my Mom while telling her I never wanted to see it again. In the years following, I reclaimed it as memories started to fade.

It always bears mentioning, the number of in the closet transgender veterans who never had a chance to escape their gender closets and ended up paying the ultimate cost for their country is tremendous. Veterans Day is just one of several days of the year we should pause to remember those service men and women who paid the ultimate sacrifice for their country. And what would we have without their service. 

Also, I would like to take the opportunity to thank all the other veterans who I know read this blog.  Thanks for your service.

Puberty

 

Estrogen patch on 
UnSplash

It isn't often in life a human gets to go through puberty twice. 

More than a few transgender women and trans men are counted among those who have had experienced puberty on both sides of the binary gender borders. Of course starting hormone replacement therapy will kick start another puberty. Even though my HRT began at a minimum level of medications, quickly I began the changes I was craving. Probably quicker than others because my natural output of testosterone was decreasing because of my age which was in my early sixties. Regardless, the changes were shocking to me on occasion. 

Very quickly, my breasts started to grow, even to the point of having to consider wearing very loose fitting shirts to cover up my new found shapes. All the process really did was speed up how long I had to actually quit wearing any of my male clothes at all, learn more and more how (and if) I could live as a transgender woman and never look back. As it turned out, there were many other positive changes I quickly went through to seal my decision. My skin softened as my body hair thinned out and my facial angles began to soften also. Not to mention, my hair was following the lead of what my doctor told me and really started to grow. Wigs were quickly out for me as I had no male patterned baldness. 

All the changes led me to a very androgynous appearance. All of a sudden I was losing all of the "Sir" references I cringed at. I was amazed at my progress which was happening with my minimum dosages I was prescribed. It is always very important for me to note I was (and am) under a doctors' care for my hormone replacement therapy. Along the way I have sadly seen the effects of hormones unsupervised on transgender women. I wanted no part of being unsupervised at my later stages of life on hormones which have the capability of making such dramatic changes. 

One of the most dramatic changes I went through one night when I was in the middle of my second puberty was when I experienced my first major hot flash. I was in one of my favorite venues enjoying a tall beer when all of the sudden I felt as if I was internally combusting. The hot flash came on so fast and so completely, I was taken aback and wondered if anyone else noticed I was on fire. No one did and I finished my drink and headed out into the cooler autumn evening to make sure I could look at myself in my car mirror. Surprisingly, I looked the same and no worse for wear after my hot flash. When I brought up the experience to my cis-woman friends, they just smiled and said welcome to their world of hormonal change.

Although, I was amazed how quickly the external  HRT changes took place and ecstatic, the internal difference I was going through was just as amazing. All of a sudden for the first time in my life,  I could cry and to a lesser extent my internal thermostat went through a radical time when all of a sudden I was cold more often and even my sense of smell improved. In other words, my world just softened and I was happier.

These days, my hormonal transition continues as my body fat is shifting to my thighs, hips and rear area. Very simply I am amazed and happy I don't have to go back to the old days of fashioning foam pads to give myself a feminine shape. 

I remember the days so long ago when I was not particularly happy when I was going through the changes of male puberty. I didn't want to grow bigger and more angular because I would be challenged when I tried to dress in my rapidly shrinking feminine wardrobe. As my life went by, there was nothing I could do concerning going through a male puberty and ending up facing the effects of testosterone poisoning for what amounted to over a half a century. 

My only solution was hormone replacement therapy and I know I am fortunate to have survived and benefitted from the results because not everyone else can. 

Gender Equity

Photo from the Jessie Hart
Archives 

In our lives as transgender women or trans men, we can't help building gender equity.

What I mean is when you are forced into a gender lifestyle you really don't accept, you have no choice to adapt and survive. In my case, it meant doing my absolute best to play sports as well as doing other boy things. I put together model cars, was gifted a BB Gun (when I really wanted a doll) as well as other male type activities. None of which I was ever very good at, probably because I did not really buy into participating entirely.

Even still, as much as I didn't want to, I was still building equity being male. Of course I learned how to interact one on one primarily with other guys. Sadly never having much of a chance to see and know any girls at all since I was painfully shy. To survive, I needed to study all the femininity around me from afar and do the best I could.

As life progressed, I needed to fall back on my male equity more and more. It was especially important when I served my three years in the Army during the Vietnam War. Specifically during basic training, I needed to learn how to act like an alpha male and how to deal with all the ones I faced. Again, even though I was successful, I didn't really want to be. Also, I knew the more equity as a man I acquired, the harder it would be to some day give it all up.

And one day it all did come crashing down. I was looking at giving up what I called the "three F's" or family, friends and finances. The reality was I was going through a stressful time in my life when I was going through gender ripping and tearing as I was seriously considering living fulltime as a transgender woman. It meant giving up all my male equity or privileges I had worked so hard to obtain. I had already faced several of my privileges being taken away such as intelligence but I was ill prepared when I had to face other issues such a personal security when I tried to live a public life as a trans woman. Even with all the changes and new pressures, I knew it was still worth selling my equity to live a feminine life.

The pressure to sell became so great, I finally broke down, embraced my new life and decided to transition into a new life I had only ever dreamed of. Little did I know, deep in the background of my life my feminine person had been watching and learning also. She was just biding her time until she had a chance to live. She was building her own equity which made the entire gender transition so much easier. 

I am fortunate in that I was able to cash in to what was left of my male equity and transfer the proceeds to my existing (hidden) feminine self. Between the two, I was able to move on and never look back.   

 

 

Ohio Proud

Image from Cyrus Crossan
on UnSplash

 It was another big night here in Ohio with the midterm elections taking place. 

Along with several other states in the country, Democrats won big in a state unfairly criticized for being entirely conservative. If you are from Ohio, you know the differing areas of the state which has been excessively gerrymandered. Meaning districts in the state which have been set up to protect Republicans who run year after year. The results are worthless politicians such as "Gym" Jordon who recently tried an ill fated attempt at running for the Speaker of the House of U.S. Representatives who is from Ohio. Jordan has managed to be in congress for approximately sixteen years. Recently, the many big metro parts of the state have been successfully organized to fight back people like Jordan. 

What this means for all of you who are out as transgender women and trans men is, if supposedly backwards Ohio is an example, there is a light at the end of the tunnel for us which isn't the train. It bears mentioning also that anti abortion proponents tried to tie in gender realignment surgeries into their advertisements to vote the abortion issue down, to no avail. 

I have always urged all individuals with gender issues, including cross dressers deeply hidden away to consider their political future and vote appropriately.  After all, you never know what the future holds and you may have a chance to escape your gender closet in the future, into a more forgiving world. Especially when you consider how different the younger generation is when it comes to gender. As far as personal preferences go, my transgender grandchild in their early twenties, in my mind, has had it much easier than I did years ago. Plus when you vote, don't forget to remember your local school boards. Even our local school board had two candidates which had support from the alt right "Mom's for Liberty" lost handily when they were exposed to having no kids in the district as well as other facts. 

Sorry to have made this post so political but when a certain political party is trying to erase us now and in the future, it is time for the transgender community to put it's petty differences behind us and unite.

It is also time for the TERF's and other transphobic women to realize trans women are women too and can help in their political causes.

Now is the time before the next BIG election when our democracy will be on trial.

Affirmation

 

Photo from the Jessie Hart
Archives

Affirmations of my gender on occasion comes from predictable sources.

It was voting day recently here in Ohio and I had the chance to be reaffirmed as my feminine self again. It all started years ago when it was time to vote shortly after I changed almost all of my legal gender markers. I vividly remember the pride I felt when the voter administration person asked for my identification card. Which in my case was my brand new driver's license complete with a new picture and the all important "F" under where it asked for my gender. 

Essentially, I knocked out two birds with one stone when I voted for the first time that year which seems like years ago now. I had always felt the need to vote all of the time because possibly my parents always did and seemingly there was always an issue on the ballot I was passionate about. Even on occasion, every once in a while a politician I was for or against would come along too. Little did I know back in those days I would be voting someday as my authentic feminine self. 

Now when I vote, not only I am doing my patriotic duty, I am doing it as a woman. In the past on occasion I think I raised more than a few gender suspicions with the occasional man who was taking my information but today I had a woman who was closer to my age and didn't seem to care at all she was talking to a transgender woman. 

Today was an important election on several fronts here in Ohio which made it more of a necessity to get out the vote. Two statewide issues were on the ballot which might just signal a new dawn of non conservative politics in a state which has become considered as a backwards one in many cases. The issues are considering abortion and marijuana, so it will be interesting to see how they turn out. Plus we had a chance to vote against a right wing school board candidate backed by out of town interests such as the "Moms for Liberty." 

I guess most importantly, no one paid me any extra attention today when I was out in the public's eye. I am starting more and more to get out again and begin moving around outside of my secure gender shell at home. I need the extra challenge to push myself along, Plus, as we approach Thanksgiving, I will have an appointment for my Covid booster shot coming up as well as another diversity council meeting for the Greater Cincinnati Alzheimer's Association. So as the holidays approach, there may be more and more chances to get out and socialize. 

No matter how I look at it, affirmation is good and helps keep my gender dysphoria to a minimum. A problem I can never seem to be rid of. Voting helps me to remember a time I wasn't so fortunate and I had to vote as my old male self. Not to mention the early fears I had of trying out my new feminine identification and voting as a brand new person. It still proves to be a wonderful memory. 

It Was All a Dream

Image from Marcos Paulo Prado 
on UnSplash

Similar to so many other transgender women and trans men, when I was young often I woke up sad in the morning after vividly dreaming I was living as my preferred feminine gender. 

Of course, then depression set in when I had to face yet another unwanted day as my old male self. On those days, very little motivated me to get going. Somehow I managed to make it through another day. On the good days, I had figured out how I could sneak around my family's back and cross dress in my small wardrobe and admire myself in the mirror. In the meantime, I tried to study the cis-women (natural born) around me to see if there was anyway I could copy their dress or mannerisms without being too obvious. I was so envious.

It took me years and even decades to figure out how totally reversed my gender dreaming really was. To this day, after living as long as I have as a full time transgender woman, my dreams are still flipped. In other words, most of my dreams still involve me as my old unwanted male self. I'm sure the main reason is the fact proportionately I still have lived the majority of my life in a stressful male world. To be successful I just had to learn the game well. All of which has carried into, and remains a substantial portion of my self-conscious thought. 

Plus, on occasion, I feel as if my entire gender existence has been nothing more than an extended dream. Perhaps it is because for such a long period of time I considered being able to live as a transgender woman was just an impossible dream. Then when I began to leave my mirror behind and break out of my gender closet into the world, I began all the changes I would need to do to live a new fulfilled life. Suddenly my life evolved from just doing my best to appear as a woman, all the way to communicating effectively as a trans woman with other women in the world.   

It was around this time of gender discovery when I started to believe I had my whole life backwards. There were certain aspects somehow I needed to do as a male but overall the other set of experiences I went through could have been lived by my dominate feminine self. I couldn't believe how much easier my life became when I finally gave in to her and let her live. She in essence was telling me she was right all along and she was.

It turned out, my dyslexic self had my gender mixed up also. All along when I  considered myself a male to female cross dresser, in reality I was a female to male cross dresser just trying to survive in an unwanted world. 

Now my past is mostly a dream, some parts good and others bad. Perhaps one of these days my sub-conscious will flip into dominant feminine role too and my dreams will become predominantly feminine in nature. I suppose if that is all I have to complain about, life is good.   

While My Blog Gently Weeps

Bubba and Brittini

Sadly, this story has been making it's way around the internet recently and friends such as Bobbi have reached out to me with the news.

Spoiler alert, the story is more than just sad, it is tragic. Perhaps by now you have heard of "Bubba Copeland" the former mayor of "Smith's Station, Alabama." I say former because Bubba committed suicide following being outed by a right wing publication called the 1819 News which outed Bubba's so called secret life as a curvy transgender woman. Bubba Copeland was also a Baptist minister who reportedly was a clergyman who cared deeply about their church and community.

Predictably, the only thing which mattered to the gender bigots who outed Bubba was the fact she was a transgender woman. If you are interested if the so called "news" source where all this came from felt at the least bad about Bubba's death. They didn't. "Craig Monger" who wrote the post supposedly supporting Alabama values on "X" (Twitter) said "Digging up someone's personal life is reporting on what someone posts on social media. The Alabama Baptist reported on the churches live stream. I actually spoke to the mayor." Not a word of sympathy was found on anything I read on the publication's site I could find.

Those of us who have dealt with gender issues our entire life know the inner torment Bubba must have gone through. No matter how many good deeds Bubba tried to do as a minister and a mayor in a small Alabama town devastated by a tornado, mattered as much to the 1819 News as much as how they dealt with a closeted transgender person. No mention was made of her life and what she faced. Gender dysphoria is hell to say the least. No attempt at any understanding of the tragedy. 

Brittini was survived by a wife and three children. May she be remembered for her good deeds. 

The Slippery Slope

Image from the Jessie
Hart Archives

I can't imagine the freedom some younger transgender youth have when their parents approve of and actually help with their gender transition.

I can use the example of my own grandchild who benefited completely from having the support of both of their parents. (It is the grandchild's choice to be referred to as they.) Of course how I grew up was totally on the opposite side of the acceptance spectrum. I was expected to be the best boy I could be and if I wasn't. I was always expected to do better. As much as I resented being put through all of that, the process probably set me up for success later in life. When I faced difficult situations, I just kept trying until on occasion I found success. 

Finding success as I sought out what to do concerning my increasingly serious gender issues proved to be my greatest win but it did not come easily. I compare it to being on a very slippery gender slope and finding yourself losing control the perceived damage. I was very scared on what could happen if I completed my male to female gender transgender transition I could lose everything I worked for in my semi-successful male life such as family, friends and finances to name a few of the major ones. 

Once the sliding began and I started to slide down the slope, I couldn't stop. The biggest problem was I didn't really care because for the first time in my life I felt natural in my own skin. I didn't have to put up feeling just a little all the way to being completely foreign when I was successful as a man. Nothing seems to have been enough until it came time to being a success as a transgender woman. The biggest move came when I made the decision to slide further down the slope and commit to being fully trans and away from being a highly active cross dresser. I was becoming more and more convinced I was doing the right thing by throwing my male life away and living a feminine one. 

What became increasingly obvious, it was time for me to lose my grip and tumble the remainder of the way down my gender slope. I finally could take the effort to jump the gender border before it killed me. I was trying my best to live equally between the two binary genders. Male for three days a week and female for the rest of the time. The resultant ripping and tearing led me to a major mental health breakdown with a suicide attempt. I saw the writing on the wall and finally decided to slide off my slippery gender slope. When I did not know was how my new circle of friends would be around for me to soften my landing.

Not only did my circle of cis-women friends accept me, they unknowingly helped me understand the basics of surviving in the feminine world. I call it being able to play in the girls sandbox.

Surprisingly, I survived the slippery slope much easier than I thought I would. Sure I had a few scratches and scrapes on the way down. Overall, as I said, I was the fortunate survivor of a very difficult gender struggle. Hopefully, in their own way my grandchild will not have to endure such a slippery slope.

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.