Image from Roberto Nickson on UnSplash |
Recently, when I met friends at a local brew pub for brunch, I needed to walk the distance of what was called the "great hall" to meet the group.
Once again I needed to make sure I was standing up as straight as I could, while throwing my shoulders back and faced the reality all transgender women face, was I going to be spotted as some sort of a gender impostor and even laughed at. I didn't and even though the brief walk felt as if it went on forever, I made it to our table without incident. At that point I thought I had it made, until the young server called me "sir". Which is another sad experience I have previously written about.
For some reason, when I transitioned into a feminine transgender world, I didn't think the public would share the same fascination with studying other women as I did. I can't tell you how many times my old guy self aggravated my second wife (and others) by trying to sneak a peek at an attractive woman. For whatever reason, I couldn't explain to them I wasn't looking because I desired the woman, it was because I wanted to be the woman. At the time, I was having a difficult time wondering if I could ever achieve my dream of cross dressing out of my old unwanted male self. There were so many working parts of a woman to duplicate, the whole process seemed impossible. I needed to fashion my own hips, breasts and hair just to arrive at a point where I could put the entire feminine package into motion.
It wasn't until I began to leave my dark and lonely gender closet behind and attend transvestite mixers did I begin to think I could succeed. Through the help of the mixers, I was able to judge how other cross dressers were successful with their presentations...or won't. I saw everything from men in beards and dresses, all the way to beautiful transgender women who were completely undetectable as former boys or men. As I sized up the crowd, I knew which direction I was headed. Most certainly I did not want to be with the bearded crowd and wondered to myself if the transsexual group was where I needed to be. Keep in mind, this was back before the transgender label was widely understood or used. What amazed me too was how intense the pressure was to size up the crowd and fit in to where you belonged.
Little did I know, I was just beginning my trip out of the closet and into the world and I would need to obsess on my appearance until I gained the confidence to go forward as the person I was. Deep down I knew I would never be the prettiest woman in the room, I just wanted to be the trans woman at peace with herself. So when the crowd sized me up, they recognized who I truly was and it was good enough. I learned also, the greatest majority of the world didn't care about me anyhow and they were involved in their own little worlds. My second wife was always fond of telling me it always wasn't all about me when it came to my cross dressing and she was right. It was just the ones who did care who became the problem. As I made my way along my gender path, I was fortunate to dodge most of the haters and live my life without severe incidents.
I am a firm believer in the younger generation doesn't see gender as a threat and in the future sizing up a younger crowd will be less of a threat to transgender women and men everywhere. I, on the other hand, when I chose to live a life as the high maintenance gender chose to always be on the stage of life.