Warhol Revisited

Actress Candy Darling 

Years ago, I joined several transgender friends for a short drive to The Ohio State University for an exhibit they were hosting on the works of  Andy Warhol. 

To begin with I made the decision to not wear heels like most of the other friends I went with.  Since I had some sort of an idea of where the exhibit would be on the spacious Ohio State campus the decision saved me quite a bit of pain. While my friends were crippled, I was comfortable in my flats. Probably, most importantly, I was able to enjoy most all of Warhol's varied works I saw, not just his transgender followers.  

Such as, at the time, we knew of the connections between transgender women and Warhol. Specifically the beautiful trans actress "Candy Darling" who tragically died at the age of thirty from lymphoma in New York City. Not being totally into the Warhol at the time, I really had no idea of everything the artist was into. The exhibit was massive and quickly a few of my friends seemed to be getting bored. So much, to my chagrin one of the trans women flashed the world on an escalator between floors when I was immediately behind her. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice her obscene act and no harm was done. From then on, I kept my distance since the exhibit's audience included many kids. As far as the public was concerned, they were not paying us any attention and I wanted to keep it that way.

From then on my bored trans friends decided upon leaving Warhol behind and going to a nearby gay venue. Following my experience with one of the women at the exhibit, I wondered how she would act following a couple of drinks so I did my best to again distance myself from her at the bar. Plus, I knew from my experiences in male gay venues, most of the other clientele would not be interested in her and her new genitals anyhow. 

From then on, since we had nearly a forty five minute drive home from Ohio State, we didn't stay too long and headed for home.

Far from being any sort of an art critic at all, I was surprised how interested I was in the entire collection of Warhol's work. As far as the rest of the transgender women I went with, I never saw a couple of them again and just stayed in contact with Racquel who I mention here fairly often. I always respected her for her trans journey to living an authentic life. 

If I had the chance, I would revisit Warhol again and I am sure my wife Liz would also. She is much more an appreciator of the arts than I am. Sadly today, with my mobility issues, I would struggle to enjoy his work again.    

 

Impostor Syndrome?

 

Halloween Girls Night Out
Jessie Hart Archives 

In many ways, this post is an extension of yesterdays work. 

Impostor syndrome to me means not feeling at home in a space where you worked hard to find yourself. It is especially true when it comes to transgender women and trans men. Specifically I know a couple of trans men who suffer from impostor syndrome even though they are undetectable in their adopted authentic gender presentations. I am fond of telling one of them, they have transitioned into better men than I have ever known. 

Even still, imposter syndrome is difficult to shake. My earliest problems with I.S. came when I was invited to girls nights out. First of all, I was petrified and when my fears quieted down, I could finally grasp where I was and I was living my dream. Most importantly, I did not want to turn my dream into a nightmare and did I really belong there. After all, my path to womanhood was so different than all the other cis-gender women I was with. As I said in yesterdays' post, most all of the women in the group accepted me without questioning my past. I say most, because there was one woman one night who made no secret of her dislike for me. I did my best to ignore her or on the other hand, return the favor. My largest goal was not to let her ruin my experience. Which was so so fragile to begin with.

To this day I still suffer from gender impostor syndrome on occasion. I don't know why after all these years of living as a transgender woman fulltime why I would but I do. Perhaps it is because all the years I lived through to get to this point at times seemed as if I would never make it. All the years of going home with tears in my eyes from public scorn took their toll on me. All the years of trying to know myself when the answer was right in front of me all the time. Including the days when restroom privilege's were difficult to come by also. I had the police called on me all the way to being screamed at by a transphobic woman one night in a venue where I thought I was safe in. 

It has always been my theory that genetic women (or men for that matter) are just born female or male and need to grow into being women or men. As humans we need the time and experience to grow into our mature gender selves and sadly, many never make it.

I suppose this is the main reason I still fall for the occasional bout of gender impostor syndrome. I just haven't had the chance to pay all my dues I need to pay on the bumpy journey out of my closet and entering the world as a novice transgender woman. Even though I have spent over a half century of work to arrive here.

Happily, my battle with imposter syndrome seems to be almost at an end. I now have the confidence to realize I belong in a space as much as the next woman. I just have to continue to adjust to the way women are approached in the world. It was my own personal journey to my own unique trans-womanhood and I own it totally.    

Making the Difficult Easier

Image from the
Jessie Hart archives.

I spent years and years admiring every aspect of how women and the girls around me conducted their lives. I was dazzled by how they moved and interacted with the world. 

On so many levels, I wished I could be just like them but for so many reasons I could not. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the shackles of my pre-ordained male existence In order to survive in a male world, I needed to copy and succeed at being a guy. All of made the dramatic gender transition I was about to make later in life that much more difficult. 

As I moved from a cross dressing mirror into the real world, I discovered the feminine gender had so many other layers to their life's than I ever imagined. So much more than merely looking like a woman which turned out to be the way I could slightly open my closet door to the world. When I worked my way past the first layer of cis-gender women I faced in clothing stores and malls, then the hard work started. 

All of a sudden, I found myself in a position where I needed to communicate with the public as a novice transgender woman. In the past, my second wife had told me repeatedly in no uncertain terms I did not know anything about truly being a woman even though I was becoming fairly competent on looking like one. She was right and I didn't understand it. 

One vicious argument comes to mind from when we lived in the New York  City metro area and happened the day after I went to a transvestite mixer. What happened was, I needed to show my identification card showing I was really a male to even get in. For the next couple of days, I was on a massive ego trip which led to a big fight with my wife. It led to her comment I still vividly remember when she said I made a "terrible" woman. I could not believe she could say it after I had almost been refused admission to a cross dresser party for looking too much like a woman. When I told her my problem with what she said, she promptly told me, she wasn't referring to my appearance. From then on, I was determined to find out what she meant. It was difficult to do because my wife did not particularly care for my feminine side, so I was on my own.

It was only easier when years later I was able to break out of my old male bonds and be able to finally play in the girls sandbox. Along the way, I had learned the power of non-verbal communication between women as well as surviving the effects of passive aggression when I had to guard my back from smiling faces. When I did, my mental health improved along with my self confidence as a transgender woman. I came to realize (with help from my friends) while I could never be a cis-gender woman, I could be a proud transgender person. I achieved my womanhood through a different path but I made it. My presence in the group just made it more diverse and nobody questioned me about my past.  

In order to do it, I needed to reverse years and years of male life. Moving like a woman needed to become my primary goal since I was never going back. Also very difficult was how I was speaking to the world. I did my best to mimic the women around me and even took vocal lessons for awhile. Eventually all the work came together and I became confident in my abilities to survive in the feminine life I had always dreamed of. 

Mom Approved

Image from Kelly Sikkema
on UnSplash

 
Very few transgender women or trans men have the benefit of an approving Mother. I can't imagine my Mom ever providing me the fashion or the help to become the girl I strongly wanted to become. 

My parents were members of the "greatest generation" who went through the great depression and WWII. Both of those major events certainly shaped them into individuals who were strong on providing for a family and weak on emotional support. Which was exactly what I needed. My Dad's family was very male dominated and my brother and I were expected to follow in his footsteps. Wanting to be feminine at all did not fit in to the advance family plans my parents had for their eldest son. I was expected to grow up, go to college and marry into my social class or higher. Quickly I was discovering, I had different ideas.

Even though I was busy playing sports and working on other male activities. I can't say I excelled at any of them but I tried my best. One thing is for sure, I was on my own because there was no way I could ever bring up my true gender feelings to my parents. Especially my Mom, who often took the lead in raising my brother and I. So, I was solidly hidden away in my dark lonely closet until I could break out much later in life. 

Through it all, I still sought out my parents approval. My Dad was very difficult to out due because he was very much the stereotypical self made man. He built his own house and rose to a bank VP position with a high school diploma. He served in the Army Air Corps in WWII, so at least my military duty in many ways corresponded to his. My brother on the other hand thanks to a high draft number, never had to serve at all. It took until I was out of the Army for me to try to come out to my Mom. One night after drinking with my friends, she was waiting up for me (before I could move out into my own place) and I blurted out I was a transvestite. I don't know what kind of a reaction I thought I would get but it was anything but the negative one I received. She recoiled and immediately volunteered to pay for therapy which in those days was the approved method for dealing with gender dysphoria. I basically said go to hell and that was the last time it was it ever brought up to her. And I never came out to my Dad either before his death at the age of 86. 

It took my daughter to break the chain of family disapproval of transgender issues and help with our over all family mental health. Growing up, my oldest grandchild (a girl) kept showing signs to my daughter she was having issues with her gender. When she was mad at Mom, she would say things such as what if I liked girls instead of boys. Since all three of my grandkids knew I was transgender, threatening my daughter with gender issues was pointless. Now my eldest grandchild goes by the "they" pronouns, has a partner and goes to The Ohio State University. Needless to say, I am so proud of my daughter and her family. It shows how much can change in a generation or two in a family. 

Even though my Mom never approved of my feminine soul and I never had her input on my cross dressing desires, I understand now she was just a product of her generation. During her later years, she was a little difficult to deal with, so as I said, we never discussed my gender issues again. I wish now I would have given her the opportunity. 

To make up for it, I adopted her first name as my new legal middle name when I changed my gender markers years ago. It was the best I could do to bury any lingering resentment I may feel. Maybe somewhere now, I am Mom approved as the daughter she never had.   

Tearing Life Apart

 

Image from Darius Bashar 
on UnSplash

Sadly, before many things have a chance to change, you have to tear them apart and then reassemble the parts. 

In order for me to pursue a life as a transgender woman, it was necessary for me to essentially tear down my past male life and start all over again. This was painful for several reasons. The main one was I was giving up all the hard work I put into to surviving in a male world. Secondly, I needed to fight the male in me completely because he was totally fighting any gender change which was happening. 

It all started when I left the mirror as a novice cross dresser and went into the world. I learned the mirror was an easy challenge until I faced the public. Primarily because the mirror didn't move and neither did I so when I may have stumbled on the perfect look with my makeup and fashion, it all had to change when I needed to put it all into motion. Was I walking and talking like a woman? The whole process caused me extreme gender confusion when I was trying to separate the days when I was a trans woman with the days I was in my everyday working life as a guy. Perhaps the biggest problem I faced was dismantling one life and beginning another in the middle of the entire transitioning process. I felt everytime I was successful in public as my novice transgender self, I had to stop and return to a male world I increasingly didn't want anything to do with. 

Even though, I was risking all I had worked for in life including a loving wife and family and a good job, the fact still remained I thought I was living a lie. I just couldn't keep living a lie and continued to tear down my old life and prepare myself for a possible dream scenario where I could possibly live as a fulltime transgender woman. The entire process was cruel and unusual punishment to me and destroyed my mental health until I could get it restored much later in my life. In the meantime, I needed to find ways such as diverse gender mixers I was going to, to try to feel better. It seemed everytime I attended a party made up of everything from cross dressers to transsexuals, I learned more about myself and where I fit in to a new expanding LGBTQ community. Primarily the new term (transgender) which seemed to fit me the best. 

As I was busily considering tearing down one life, I had other serious others issues to contend with. Such as my sexuality and how was I going to be able to communicate in a new world as a trans woman. It turned out, I was overthinking the whole process and destiny would come along to answer my most pressing questions. You regulars know the story of how I found and was adopted by a small group of cis-gender women who taught me the basics of communication and how to conduct myself in my new world. And then there was my wife Liz who rescued me from very dark times, took me in as my authentic feminine self and eventually married me.

It has been such a long trip from standing cross dressed in front of the hallway mirror growing up and the ups and downs of tearing one life apart to start another has been scary. But eventually I made it.  

Writing Euphoria

Image from the Jessie Hart
Archives

Every now and then I receive a comment which brings all the effort I put into writing a daily transgender blog into focus. 

When I started writing this blog over ten years ago, I set out to hopefully help anyone else with gender issues similar to mine. Back in those days, when I revisited my old blog posts, I mainly see an over riding interest with my feminine appearance and not much else. Of course when I transitioned into a fulltime life as a transgender woman, I discovered all the other challenges I was going to face. It was all much different than my life as a casual cross dresser. 

This is where the writer's euphoria comes in. I recently received this comment from Jennifer " Thank you for publishing your thoughts and experiences. I am an older, but not that wiser, transgender woman just starting out on the road to femininity. Your blog helps me much to understand the hurtles I am about to encounter. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and opening up to your experiences.

Thank you, Jennifer" You are welcome Jennifer and thanks for sharing such a wonderful comment. 

Somehow, along the way, the blog made it's own transition into looking at my life as a senior transgender woman. I found, being "more mature" in many ways had it's advantages. Primarily when it came to beginning gender affirming hormones. Because at my age, my testosterone level was already in a decline, the rush of new estrogen in my system seemed to be more natural. On the other hand of course, I needed to go through the medical screening process to determine if I was healthy enough to proceed on the program I was prescribed. 

As far as being "older but not wiser", I think I faced that aspect of my life also more than I could ever write about. For better or for worse, I had already went past and missed my formative feminine years and needed to master the mysteries of makeup and fashion on my own. There were no teen girls to critique my look and for me to return the favor. Plus, I spent way to much time alone with no girlfriends to shop at the mall with. 

I discovered too, there was a small niche of older transgender women who had lived through the dark and lonely pre-internet years. I am amazed how many readers still remember fondly the "Transvestia" publication along with Virginia Prince. But then again, it was all we had to provide any sort of light in our gender closets. 

These days, I am still committed to attempting to provide any guidance I can to anyone like Jennifer who needs it. After all, our gender journeys through life on one hand are so similar but on the other not so much. Each of us needs to navigate how we are going to shed a life of living male and begin all over again. And just when we think we have it made, we need to face the reality of being trans in retirement communities and/or assisted living. Regardless of all the negative publicity we receive from politicians, I still believe more people such as the "Alzheimer's Association" are researching ways to be more inclusive to the LGBTQ community. So, there is hope. 

Thanks again Jennifer, Jen (another reader) and all the others of you who join in with me here on the blog. You give me writers euphoria and improve my mental health.

Gender Euphoria

My wife Liz on the left
From the Jessie Hart archives.

Sadly, gender euphoria is too rare for most transgender women and trans men.

For too many of us (including me) gender dysphoria rules the life.  Throughout my life when I get up in the morning to begin my day, a quick look in the mirror tells me I am living my external gender as yet another day as a guy and my gender dysphoria sets in. I describe my gender dysphoria as being a deep seated issue caused by my desire to live as my authentic feminine self. From then on my day is set on how it will go.

However, every now and then something comes along to reassure me I am doing the right thing with my life. It could be as little as my wife Liz referring to me as "she" all the way to a server calling Liz and I "ladies" at dinner when we eat out. Whatever the case, gender euphoria is brief and dysphoria is always lurking in the background. 

I think part of the problem is all the difficulty I experienced as I followed the path to living my transgender dream. In the days when I just considered appearance as my number one feminine dream, of course there were always plenty of other women (trans or cis) to compete with because they were far more attractive than me. My impossible dream was to do the best I could to survive in a sometimes brutal world as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. Initially, I made the mistake of attempting to dress sexily to validate myself in the world. All too often, my attempts came off as trashy or even clownish. Plus, one night my wife had to rescue me from a huge man at a party who had pinned me against a wall in a narrow hallway. In no way was there any gender euphoria or feminine validation involved that night. Just my wife reprimanding me for not taking better care of myself ahead of time. Not to mention, she hated what I wore. In my mind, I was trying to keep up with the beautiful transsexual women who were there also.

Through it all, I managed to have enough moments of pure gender euphoria to keep my gender dreams alive. Very early on all the visits to mall and women's clothing stores provided me with positive one and one feedbacks with the clerks to think I was doing everything right as a novice feminine cross dresser. It took me many years to realize, the clerks were mostly nice to me because of my money. Years later, after I came out to my daughter, she told me of her days working at Victoria's Secret when the occasional man would come in shopping for lingerie in his size. Other clerks would refuse to wait on him but my daughter did and pocketed the commission. I could have been green and most of the clerks would have still liked me.

My mall days continued my gender euphoria to an extent I never thought possible. I used to go to the up-scale malls in the area in my very best business professional fashions. Including a very stylish black jumpsuit I loved with my black heels and blond wig. It seemed I never had any problems and my euphoria soared along with my confidence. Sadly, I normally found a way to push the so called envelope too far and get rejected in the world and my gender dysphoria would set in again.

It wasn't until I began gender affirming hormones did I reach the point of no return in my male to female gender transition. Regardless of what happened to me, negative or positive, I needed to attempt to move forward towards my dream. Happily, the feminine hormones improved my exterior image. My skin softened, my hair grew and my facial angles softened which made my whole presentation easier to do, since I needed to do it every day. 

Even with all the help. I still have the dysphoria/euphoria battle with the mirror every morning. Sometimes I win the battle, sometimes I lose but most importantly, I have learned neither aspect of my appearance should rule my day. Nothing is as good or bad as it seems.

Thanks to all of you who join me for my experiences! I appreciate you taking the time to stop by and even comment. It all means the world to me.

It Was Never Easy

Image from Alexander Grey
on UnSplash

 Two things amaze me when people bring up to me when they learn I am transgender. The first is when someone thinks I had a choice and the second is the entire process was at all easy. 

Since I was never a so-called natural feminine person to begin with, I needed to struggle completely to reach my goals of surviving in the public's eye at all as a woman...trans or not. The best description of my passing struggles came when my transgender friend Racquel told me I passed out of sheer will power. I knew what she was trying to say. I wasn't the best looking woman in the room but I was going to force the issue anyhow. 

Early on, I had only the mirror to do my gender battles with. I finally learned too late the mirror often lied to me. Night after night, I would think I looked great only to be immediately stared at or even laughed at in public. It was difficult learning how to try to dress myself so my feminine fashion helped me to live a life I had only dreamed of, not hurt it. At the same time, I tried to lose as much weight as I could and take care of my skin so I could wear less foundation. None of it was easy. But it was worth it.

In order to accomplish all I wanted to do on my difficult gender journey, I needed to learn something new and different. I had to learn to be my own best friend. I never liked my old male self and was just learning all the new possibilities of my feminine inner soul. She had many problems to face as she fought for acceptance from my male self who fought completely for all of his rights. At times, it was an ugly, bloody battle I never want to go through again. It was anything but easy and never a choice to go through as I was to find out later. 

I ended up suffering so much, I almost ended my life several times from various reckless self harm attempts all the way to an attempted death by pills which failed before I decided enough was enough. In order to survive I had to make a choice, so yes I guess I did have a choice and it was a very desperate one. Self survival meant I needed to pursue what measures I could and change my life forever. The final determination was deep down I felt more natural as a transgender woman and needed to find out where I would need to end up in the new pack of women in society. It was then I learned how deeply layered a woman's life could be and perhaps even more so as a trans woman. I had all the extra baggage of my previous life as a man which I carried with me to the other gender side. I knew the male gender expectations men had of women which made me extra shy of the entire gender dance between men and women. Primarily I learned why both genders often have a difficult time communicating in their relationships and wished often I could go back and do my life different. Maybe then, my second wife would have never said I made a terrible woman. Which I did and thought it only had to do with how I looked.

The final example for this post I will use was the amount of time it took me to finally face reality and come out fully as a transgender woman. Adding up the years, I struggled with my ultimate gender issues for nearly a half century. It was certainly difficult to break out of my old male chains and live the life of my dreams. I realized I never had a choice.

You Can't Buy Love

Image from the 
Jessie Hart Archives

 One of the first lessons I learned when I was first brave enough to date girls was spending more money equaled to more dates with certain girls. Sadly, the plainer the girl, the less potential spending was going to happen. When I flipped my gender, I found out how evil it was.

As a transgender woman, I was or am not the prettiest woman in the room. As such, I never managed to have many dating interactions with men who most of which just saw me as some fetish object. They wanted the first date to be a motel room. I drew the line at any sketchy first dates and demanded a meeting in a public place of my choice. What happened then was a predictable amount of being stood up on possible dates. While I did have a couple meaningful dates with men, often they were unscripted moments in the regular venues I went to often. One night in particular happened with a man called Bob who treated me completely as a woman and I loved it. He lived far away and was married so there was no chance at any further involvement. 

Through that period of my life I was questioning my sexuality also so any dates with men added to my possible knowledge. The farthest I ever went was very brief episodes of heavy petting or making out. From it all, I learned I still preferred the attention and company of women. With the help of a few female friends I learned the meaning of what it meant to be to be a transgender lesbian. In order to do it, I found I didn't have to have a lot of money spent on me to be happy. I was more into spending more money on my feminine self to attempt to improve my public's appearance. I ended up saving every extra penny I had to buy that next extra wig I didn't really need to be more attractive than ever before. At least in my mind. As I acquired more fashion and makeup, slowly but surely was acquiring more acquaintances to try my new fashion out on.   

Which leads me to another woman I don't mention much anymore who is Amy. Amy is the woman who recommended me practice with a banana to get ready for my intimate moments with men. So as you can tell she wasn't shy. One day in particular  with her comes to mind when she invited me over to her house for a spaghetti dinner with friends. I didn't really ask who else was coming, I jumped at the chance to enjoy a home made dinner. Fashion wise, Amy had only seen me in my short denim skirt days, so I decided to wear one over to her house again not thinking who else would be there. It turned out she also invited two men so the group included a cis woman, a transgender woman and two men who were seemingly ill at ease with me. I made the decision to join Amy in the kitchen and serve the men their delicious Italian dinner. I decided if the men were going to be ill at ease with me, I wasn't . I enjoyed the meal, helped clean up the mess, stopped to socialize with Amy and left the men behind. Just another learning experience.

I finally was able to slow down on expenditures on fashion and makeup and spend more on my personal interactions. My experience with dealing with both sides of the binary gender spectrum helped me to truly understand what buying love really meant. I understood both genders often expect intimacy in return for how much money you spend. The last woman I ever dated me as a man suggested to me we go to an expensive steakhouse for food before our first date. I politely saw through what she was up to and declined and we went to a more reasonably priced venue of my choice. Probably dooming our relationship from the beginning. She was quite attractive and a diva to begin with so I figured she thought she could do better than me and our brief fling ended after three or four dates.

Since we live in a money driven society, buying love is hard to do and even more difficult to resist as a transgender woman.