Being a Gender Victim

 

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Many years ago during my years of searching for my true gender self, I spent many hours and days being a victim of my circumstances.  In other words, I felt sorry for myself wanting to follow a feminine path in life. 

Primarily, thanks to input I received from my second wife, I began to pull myself out of the victim category and accept the way I felt. My wife kept telling me I didn't know anything about being a woman (which I didn't) so I needed to find out what she meant because she was not offering any help. Sadly it wasn't until many years later following her passing away, did I learn what she meant. Obviously, since she can not speak for herself, I think she was expanding on the times when she called me "The pretty pretty princess." Those were the days when I obsessed on how I looked as a cross dresser and not how I felt as a novice transgender woman. Had I not been so narrow minded in my quest for femininity, I think now I would have spent way less time feeling sorry for myself. Why couldn't I have hobbies such as golf rather than dressing as a woman.

My life turned out to be a double edged sword about that time. Not only was I facing pressure on the home front to learn more about the basics of being a woman, at work through promotion after promotion, I was feeling increased pressure to perform there also. To help me along, the many managerial training sessions I attended gave direction on how not to be a victim.

Finally, I slowly learned to attack my problems head on and not run from them. Often by putting on a dress and feeling sorry for myself. Slowly but surely, thanks to no small part to the women I worked with, I began to look beyond how they looked into how they acted and reacted with life. The whole process made me a better person and prepared me for a future living life as a transgender woman. I was becoming so much more than "The pretty pretty princess." At the same time, not being a victim was making life so much more complex. On one hand I was making strides with my makeup and fashion and on the other I was becoming very successful in my work. In fact, it was not becoming unusual for my wife to ask for my help with her makeup when we were going out to an upscale event.  Usually, after I did help her, she felt better and I was jealous I wasn't the one in the pretty dress. 

Throughout the entire process, I found I had more courage than I had ever thought possible. Perhaps the time I spent in the military prepared me with the confidence I needed to move forward and not be a victim to my gender issues. Every time I conquered a goal I thought was unachievable, I felt more natural with my life and my mental health improved. 

I put being a victim behind me and set out to be an out and proud transgender woman.

Changes and Trans Life

David Bowie and Changes

One of the only constants of life is change. From the day we are born until the day we die, changes are part of our life.

I am biased but I think all transgender women and/or trans men receive more than our fair share of change. Depending where your age may be in the spectrum of life and how long you are able to live, you may have to bring more baggage with you when and if you decide to take the huge step and decide to complete a transgender transition. 

In addition to the "Three F's" or family, friends and finances, there are other baggage items to consider. Such as how did you fill your time when you weren't working for instance. In my case, I was a huge sports fanatic and wasn't sure if my passion would survive as a trans woman. I was left in even more doubt when I began to not appreciate my time going to so called safe gay venues. For the most part, I didn't like the people, the music or being treated like I was an out of place drag queen. What ended up happening was, I went where I was comfortable as my male self. Venues where I could watch sports on huge televisions with beer to match. I figured if I was going to be made uncomfortable, I might as well use the change to try for better.

Most importantly, I found other women (Cis, not trans) who shared my passions for sports and gave us a reason to socialize. The whole process opened up the rest of my world to more changes. By this time, I felt as if I was right in the middle of the David Bowie song "Changes." When I looked around at all my middle aged friends stuck in ruts of life, I felt so liberated to be where I was although at times I was petrified of exactly what the future may hold when I transitioned into a fulltime womanhood. 

Little did I know, the biggest life changes were still ahead when I decided to throw caution to the wind and pursue beginning gender affirming hormones. In addition to the obvious bodily changes such as breasts, skin and hair growth, I also found myself reacting to yet another puberty experience in life. The first time I experienced a major hot flash still is a vivid memory when I think back to wondering if I was internally combusting. In addition, hot flashes and the hormones led to me all of a sudden being more emotional. As the world around me softened, I became more in tune with temperature changes and smells. It was my own special world and I loved it.

Looking back at the whole process of gender changes I went through, even though I knew deep down I never really had a choice, I cherish most of my life as it turned out. At the least, I was never bored and was always challenged to do better. First as a cross dresser and later as a transgender woman. I found the path was less traveled but when I discovered a fellow traveler, the meeting was normally positive. 

I also had privilege of living through the birth of the internet era, which in turn started the explosion of social media. Which brought the LGBTQ+ community together. All of a sudden it was easier to bring a little light into previously dark gender closets. 

Change is similar to a roller coaster ride. You can only hope the ride up is worth the ride down.

How Did I Know

 

Image from Shane 
on UnSplash

Every now and then I get asked how or when I knew I was transgender or at the least had issues with my gender.

In fact the last time I remember anyone asking was when my daughter and I were discussing her own child's gender issues and the extreme possibility the child was preparing to come out as trans to the world. To start with, my daughter has always been one of my strongest allies, supporting my gender journeys in everyway she could. So she knew more than a little about the process of joining the world as your authentic self. 

Regardless of all of that, I answered her question the only way I knew how. Even though I may not been able to vocalize my gender feelings in a way anyone would understand (including myself), I knew deep down something was wrong in my world. Perhaps my strongest indication was when I woke up in the morning saddened because I had just dreamed I was a girl. Somehow I thought most if not all the other boys I knew did not have their basic gender to worry about on a daily basis. 

The honest answer to the question became, I had always known I was born with a feminine soul and wanted to express her as much as I could. And I also learned the hard way to try to purge all vestiges of her existence was a waste of time and money. All it really did was depress me and destroyed my mental health even further than it already was. Since I had already been diagnosed with a bi-polar disorder, I had a couple of therapists try to connect the dots between my gender issues and me being bi-polar. I knew, one was separate from another and resisted their theories until I found a therapist who took the time and effort to understand where I was coming from. 

In many ways, the real question became not how did I know, to how did I cope with the change. Even though my grandchild was blessed with an understanding set of parents, they still faced the normal who, what and why questions any transgender person has to live with. When you pile on the normal challenge of life, the entire process we live with seems so unfair. But then again,(you undoubtedly have heard this before), who said life had to be fair? 

Another hurdle I faced when I was deciding to finally give up my male life and come out to the world was understanding myself. For nearly a half a century I fought my male self for dominance and when I finally decided to give it up, it was such a relief. The whole process felt as if I was taking a huge load of bricks off of my shoulders. At the time, I was very much out in the world as as serious cross dresser anyhow, so the jump I needed to make was not as far as it would have been earlier in life. So why not come out before I became any older. Since I was in my early sixties by then. I knew it was past time to live my truth.

One thing which makes me recoil in anger is when someone makes the statement I am less trans because I waited so long to come out. When in fact we all deserve the respect to come out as we please because every life is different.  The end result is all that matters. 

If you think you know you are transgender or are slowly coming along in your exploration process, all power to you. The bottom line is it your life, live it the best you can.    

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

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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.