Doing What is Right

 

My wife Liz on left. Mother's Day this year.

During several high profile jobs I worked at, doing what was right was drilled into me by my superiors.

Even though it took me many years to finally realize I needed to do it, I came out of my gender closet and started a new life as a transgender woman. As I write about often, I am haunted on how much better my life would have been if I had come out earlier and did the right thing.

I should have known and if I had listened to my instincts, I would have done it. As it was, everytime I cross dressed as a woman I felt so natural and something was trying to tell me something big was wrong. It is no wonder, I struggled with my mental health and had anger issues when now I take all I was going through into consideration. Sadly, the person who bore the brunt of my frustrations was my second wife. Mainly because we had made a deal I could cross dress as much as I wanted as long as I kept it away from our home. I was even allowed to spend the money to go to a motel to get ready for a trip on the town if I wanted to. As it worked out, even that was not enough to satisfy my gender desires. Essentially what happened was I became better and better at my presentation skills and when I did, I enjoyed myself more and more.

As it turned out, we were similar to runaway trains on the same track. I was headed towards gender affirming hormones (HRT) and she was completely against them. Saying hormones broke the agreement we set up when we married. She was right and I ended up between the rock and a hard place before she passed away. Once again it seemed I was back to point zero again in my life but this time, I could not go back to cross dressing in front of the mirror. I was too far along towards my lifelong dream of living in a women's world to ever go back. Still, I had the problem of doing what was right and sticking with my promise to never leave the house as my transgender self. I became desperate and began to break that promise regularly which inwardly I was ashamed of.

Overall, my guy self still had enough influence to try to stop my slide into womanhood by putting up the same old barriers. Barriers such as internalizing all my feelings and trying to ignore my mounting mental health problems by drinking way too much until I could take it no longer and I went out to pursue my other new life as a trans woman. Then tried to be home before my wife and hide the whole evening from her. In the short and long term, my plan never worked because in part it was so difficult for me to remove the makeup I so painstakingly applied. I think now, most of the time she knew when I was out sneaking around and just made the decision not to press the issue.

Deep down, on my end, I knew I needed to press the issue. When I was out living my best life as a transgender woman, I couldn't go back to a life as a guy I never asked for. Doing what was right just seemed to be the fair and natural thing  to do. 

Now, if my story ended there, it would have had a happy ending but it didn't. Approximately six months before she passed away, my wife and I had a massive fight about my part time life as a woman and I decided to make one last ill-fated attempt at quitting my feminine life and purging most of my belongings. After nearly six months into growing a beard and gaining an immense amount of weight, as I tried to quit doing what was right, my wife passed away after twenty five years of marriage. Leaving me on my own to finally do what was right.

I did and decided I was not getting any younger and had followed the proper "prep" work to allow my feminine soul to take control. She did and without indicating any "I told you so." She took over my life life with goodness and control. I will forever wonder what would have happened if I had let her take over sooner because she was clearly doing the right things with my life. 

Time Waits for No One if you are Trans

Image from David Cohen
on UnSplash.

Sometimes I look back at my nearly three quarters of a century of life and wonder how I made it.

Often I think I could have made it easier on myself if I had been able to muster the courage to come out much earlier and live the authentic feminine life I always wanted to live. It is difficult to imagine exactly how it would have worked out, because the world has changed so much for transgender women and men. It is always worth mentioning the pre-internet/social media days when trans people were so much more isolated in their dark gender closets.

Timing always has quite a bit of influence on how anyone is able to attempt joining the world as an out transgender person. As anyone becomes older, they have a tendency to accumulate life experiences, material or not. Families come along for many, making the gender shock of changing genders so much more of a problem. Baggage continues to increase when we undertake better employment and secure better housing. Both of which can be very difficult to give up.

Time keeps on moving, which often is the only definite and when it does, the pressure builds to do something about it. The older we become, the more the reality of our mortality sets it and we lose the recklessness of youth. I was certainly much more reckless when I was younger and tried more self destructive acts such as consuming too much alcohol and driving way too fast. Also, as the pressure mounted, my mental health which was already shaky was put to the test repeatedly. Anything I tried seemed to take me farther and farther away from any potential answers I could think of.  

The problem was I couldn't see the forest for the gender trees. Similar to any other woman, my biological clock was ticking away and the older I got, the louder it became. I tried everything to run from my clock but of course nothing worked. Finally, when I turned sixty, I could take it no longer. On one momentous night after years of struggle I gave up my male self and gave in to living fulltime as a transgender woman. I put all the years of experimentation as a cross dresser behind me, dis-carded the remainder of my male clothes and set out to live my dream. Sure, it was scary but all the preparation I put into the move made it more natural and successful from the beginning. Primarily my inner woman was overwhelmed by finally having the final say in my life. 

At the time, I was viewing the entire process as jumping off a gender cliff and hoping for a soft landing. As it turned out, all my prep time when I was actually trying to play in the girl's sandbox worked well for me because I had a chance to build up a close circle of women friends who helped with the landing and even welcomed me in. 

I knew too, I wasn't getting any younger and if I put off a gender transition much longer, I would likely never have the chance again. I was close to retirement age, had no spouse to worry about, and had a limited amount of family and friends to come out to, so even I didn't have a good reason to stay in my gender closet any longer. 

In my case, for whatever reason, I was able to wait out time to the bitter end and come out positive in the process. I wish now, I didn't wait so long to live as my authentic transgender self and put so much prep work into it but no one goes back and gets a second chance to rewind the clock.  

Memorial Day

 

Author in Civil War Cemetery
Cincinnati, Ohio.

It is the time once again for my annual Memorial Day post.

It always seems to me, the true meaning of the weekend gets lost on things such as cookouts, parades and fireworks. Every once in a while, I will receive a "Thanks for your service" on Memorial Day and because I am a Vietnam Era vet. I am always sure to thank the person but the weekend is not about the veterans who survived all the various wars this country has fought over the years. The real reason for Memorial Day is to stop and remember all those who served and paid the ultimate sacrifice with their lives.

Speaking of lives, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the transgender veterans who perhaps joined the military to "prove" their manhood and died while they were still in their closets.  So sad they never had the chance to express themselves. 

To all of you who lost a close family member in a war or have a veteran who is still suffering from combat trauma, you have all my respect and Memorial Day is for you.

At the least, as I said, take the time to remember that freedom is never free and it is a constant struggle to maintain it from enemies from outside and inside our country. I know also of the many transgender veterans I hear from here on the blog. (Georgette and others.) I know you all have the proper perspective on the day but still, thanks for being a survivor! One of the true meanings of Memorial Day.    

The Power of Hope as a Trans Girl

Image from Dayne Tompkin
on UnSplash.

Of all the emotions, perhaps hope is one of the most powerful.

Especially, these days when the world seems to be coming after the entire transgender community, hope seems to be a precious commodity. In my case, I learned slivers of hope came in the form of brief gender euphoria, when I glimpsed the girl looking back at me from the mirror. She gave me hope I could keep trying to live my dream. 

Then I was forced back into my mundane drab male life I never really wanted and my hope disappeared. Often for long periods of time before I could cross dress again. I was in despair until I could glimpse my feminine image again in the mirror. Perhaps the worst part was I did not know exactly what I was looking for. More preciously, I did not understand the predictability of my urge to be a girl my age. If I was able to document it at all, it seemed every week at least once I wanted to cross dress and be feminine. Why did the euphoria of dressing not last? It wasn't until much later I would realize my answer was I was more of a transgender woman than anything else. 

In the meantime, I was busy watching the teen aged girls I so wanted to be like. Without being creepy, I noticed how they moved and what they wore. When I did, it gave me hope I could someday live my dream of being a woman. Even though I was a student of the female gender, life kept me stuck where I didn't want to be. Later I began to understand no one gets out of life without trauma and mine was an extension of being transgender. Learning to live with my trauma and still hope for better kept me going along with small periods of gender euphoria.

Initially, I took the easy way out by taking trips to mall clothing stores where everyone could present as anybody as long as their money was green and by going to gay venues where it was easy to get in. Later I learned in the gay bars, anyone was admitted but very few transgender women were ever accepted. Which made sense, the men in the gay venue were there for other men, not one who was cross dressed as a woman. I found the best I could hope for was to be accepted as a drag queen which I wasn't. 

The whole process forced me further into the world and gave me new hope for the future. I expanded my horizons past the mirror and into the life I write about so often. Surprisingly, I felt a new life as a transgender woman was possible so I started gender affirming hormones to allow the process to be easier. New friends who never knew my old male self helped me along more than they ever knew and the nights when I went out to be alone suddenly became to socialize with the world. My hope to achieve my dream was alive and well. 

However I felt about my dream coming together, the more I knew I needed to work harder to make sure it happened. For example, I needed to change as many of my legal gender markers as possible back in those days in backwards Ohio. With the help of letters from my supportive therapist, most of the process was surprisingly easy. 

Overall, the power of hope in my transgender life has been a wonderful influence but not a super power which was easy to find or nourish. The whole process took me too many years to accomplish what I set out to do because I did not have the wherewithal or even the courage to do it. Eventually, I did learn it would take more than just hope to fulfill my life dreams, it took action. 

Trans Displacement or an Impostor?

Image from Tengyart
on UnSplash.

Sometimes, even when I am successful living the life of a transgender woman in a space I had always could ever dream of, I wonder if I am merely an impostor.

Am I taking the place of another cis-woman who could be living in my place? And did I deserve to be there. Then, I come to my senses and think no, all of that is crazy. Instead of taking another woman's place, I was replacing a man who did not approve of his lifestyle at all and wanted to change it. The only displacing I was doing came at the expense of myself.

I certainly paid my dues learning what I needed to do to complete the process. My life was made up of too many blind corners to count. Once I conquered one blind corner, seemingly another would magically appear. Many, I had no idea of what I needed to face to move forward. When I did become relatively successful in my quest to change my gender, perhaps the cruelest joke at all came along. It happened when I began to suffer what is called "impostor syndrome" or ending up in the middle of a girls night out party feeling as if I was out of place. Finally, I overcame my reservations and was able to enjoy myself. I deserved to be there as much as the next woman and I was not displacing anyone. 

Sadly, there were more blind corners than I can remember but I managed to keep my life together and proceed as fast as I could. I still had too many self destructive moments. Mostly, when I did all I could to try to out myself and ruin all I knew of my male life. I drove too fast and drank way too much and even went into the restaurant I managed cross dressed because I thought I could get away with it. Long story short, I didn't and I put my very good employment in jeopardy. I wasn't satisfied going to the established venues I was going to out of town and wanted more and more. All along, I was doing more and more and didn't realize it. I needed to learn all the nuances of being a successful transgender woman in the world but wasn't patient enough to do it. Mainly, my communication skills in all the various worldly situations I could put myself in needed improvement. 

It was frustrating when I thought life was good and the idea of me being a gender impostor snuck in. Why was I out in the world trying to be a woman in a space inhabited by cis women. Many of whom did not appreciate my being in their world. I developed a thick skin over time and finally decided the women who did not like me for no apparent reason (other than the obvious) had problems of their own which did not include me. Once I developed my thick shell, my confidence as a transgender woman increased and life was better.

After a lifetime of experience, I made it out of my own head and into the world. When I did, I was able to put any ideas of trans displacement behind me. In no way was I an impostor and I had earned my position as a woman as much as any other cis-woman. Females aren't women at birth and they are socialized into the experience the same as I was. I just happened to take another path. One of which often gave me more insight into life because I lived a life on both sides of the gender border. I even found myself giving advice to other women on how to communicate better with their men. I was flattered and any idea of me being a gender impostor began to disappear. 

At the same time, I finally stopped encountering any idea of displacement and went on living my dream life I never thought I would ever get to. It was always my impossible dream to live as a woman (trans or not) and I began to ignore the naysayers. Life became more livable and pleasurable and all imposters turned out to be other women in my world.

Trans Girl in the World

Downtown Cincinnati archive
image. Ohio River in the
background.

Recently, the day came when my wife Liz and I were able to get out of the house and run a few important errands. Of course it was also a rare chance to see and be seen in the public's eye. 

The first thing which had to happen was to decide what I was going to wear. Since we were not going anywhere fancy, I did not have to over do it. We were just going to the county treasurer's office to pay our taxes and make a possible coffee shop stop, so I felt my leggings and lightweight lacy top would do, along with tennis shoes in case we needed to walk any distance. The treasurer's office was downtown.   

Since we were trying to beat the rush, we decided to try to get an early start, so I needed to be up early (for me) so I could apply a light coat of makeup and brush then tie back my hair which is due for it's summer trim. Once we arrived at the treasurer's office, we were lucky that the set up for the weekend "Taste of Cincinnati" celebration (which draws over a million people) did not interfere with finding a place to park. 

From there it was a matter of going through the guard screening to get into the building. When we did, the guard called us "ladies" so I was happy. Once we arrived at the office we were looking for, the clerks who waited on us were as predictably detached as I thought they would be, so I did not encounter any stares or pushback from anyone. The worst part of course was actually paying our tax bill before we were on our way. 

On the way back home, we decided to just use the drive thru at our favorite coffee shop and spend even more money we didn't really have but we managed to order a light breakfast and coffee and be on our way.

As I often write about, we just don't get out much, so even such a mundane trip was interesting. I often have the chance to relax and reflect on how far I have come as a transgender woman. It wasn't so long ago I would have been petrified to make the short trip I made this morning.

Since we are entering the Memorial Day weekend and I am veteran, I will have my usual post coming up reminding everyone to remember the true meaning of the holiday.

In the meantime, thanks always to all of you who have followed along with all my experiences. Your participation makes it all so worthwhile.

It was All so Natural

Image from the Jessie Hart Archives. 

Even though I was facing tremendous hurdles as a cross dresser and/or novice transgender woman, everytime when gender times became tough, I kept on trying. Mainly because deep down  I felt so natural when I was cross dressed head to toe as a girl my age.

Although the time I was cross dressed felt so good, the length of time I was able to do it was never enough. Had I had more knowledge back then, I would have realized I was a transgender person. A big difference to me from only being a part-time male who enjoyed cross dressing in women's clothes. As I discovered more and more about myself, I discovered I was a woman cross dressing as a man during the majority of my life. I only knew I was not enjoying or was being fulfilled as a guy. The whole lifestyle never felt natural to me. 

As time went by, I increasingly followed the natural path no matter how difficult it proved to be. More often or not, I encountered very many severe twists and turns. Again, I was encouraged by the natural moments I experienced when I finally encountered the public as a trans woman. It was like the path had big sign boards along the way with directions on how to proceed. Or once I made it to a certain spot in my new gender life, I could set new goals. The example I always use was when I started to progress past just going shopping in clothing stores where they didn't care if I was a man dressed as a woman or not (because my money was green) and began to challenge myself in restaurants where I needed to interact one on one with the serving staff.  

From there, my goals became to refine and test my restroom skills if nature called during one of my longer outings. It was during some of my restroom visits when I  really needed to feel natural and spread my gender wings. I found out quickly I needed to be able to look other women in the eye and smile even though I was very scared. 

Through it all, I lived and was able to move forward towards new enticing goals of living life as a transgender woman. It was during this period of my life when I began to seriously consider moving forward with gender affirming hormones. Sadly, my second wife was very much against any idea of me being on hormones saying if she had wanted to marry a woman, she would have looked for one. In other words, she didn't sign up to live with another woman, trans or not. I loved her deeply and no matter how difficult it was, I tried to honor her wishes until her untimely death after we had been married twenty five years. 

Her rejection of any idea of me moving forward with HRT just put an extra strain on my mental health which in turn, led to a suicide attempt. Following the attempt, I tried yet another "purge" of my feminine wardrobe which of course didn't work. It wasn't too long after my final purge, she passed away very suddenly from a massive heart attack. As I write about often, her death was the ultimate shock to my system because I was always so self destructive there was no way I thought I would out-live her but I did.

When I did, I decided it was time to live my dream of being a full-time transgender woman. I took the natural path and never looked back.  

Not the Only One

My Transgender Friend Racquel
from Texas

This is really an extension of yesterday's post. During the post I mentioned the times when I discovered there were actually others who shared my cross dressing dreams. In fact, they even had a label back in those days, we were called transvestites. 

In my post I even mentioned the "Transvestia" publication which I came to cherish so much. I was so amazed to see a nationwide network of like minded individuals. In a short period of time, I discovered a side group of sorts called the "Tri-Ess" organization for strictly heterosexual cross dressers who met in nearby Columbus, Ohio for socials or mixers. Columbus was only approximately a half hour from my home and I just had to check it out.

When I did, I was able to meet a smaller, diverse side group who had private parties in an exclusive Columbus location. As I became a part of this group, I really found how I was not the only one. The only issue I had was, deciding what exactly I was. I knew from experience I was much more serious about being a cross dresser than many of the others I met at the mixers. On the other hand, I still wasn't sure if I was as serious as a few of the transsexual women who were headed for gender realignment surgery. Or sex change as it was known back then. I still had too many huge gender decisions to make before I could ever make such a life changing choice. 

In the short term, I decided to align myself as close as I could with the transsexuals as I attempted to learn as much as I could about their lives. I only really knew two, so contact was very rare plus on most occasions my second wife was with me so I needed to be careful about how I acted. 

As the internet and social media came into play, the potential of knowing I was not the only one in the world with gender issues literally exploded. Along with the internet came a new understanding of the different layers of gender life. As I said in yesterday's post, the term transgender became increasingly known here in Ohio, which as always behind the East and West coasts. As I studied it, the more I was convinced transgender fit my status in life and I felt better for a short amount of time. I say a short period, because in no time at all, I was striving to be a better trans person and learn more and more about myself in the world.  

What I did learn was, even though I found others who shared my gender issues or even gender dysphoria, there were not many. In fact, before she moved to Texas, my friend Racquel was one of the few women in the LGBTQ world I stayed in contact with and Racquel often joined in with my lesbian friends when we partied. 

Recently, partially because of my mobility issues, my transgender outreach has been limited to my writing as well as virtual diversity meetings with the local Cincinnati Alzheimer's Association. As well as the occasional speaking engagement thanks to a friend in the trans community. When I am able to participate in an outreach, particularly to young people, I am able to see I am far from being the only one with gender issues and it feels good.  

Gender Boxes

Image from the Jessie
Hart Archives.

When I was very young, my parents did what so many others do. They constructed a gender box and forced me into it.

As I grew up, I had no choice. I was a boy and was expected to do boy things. Even to the point of receiving gifts on Christmas I did not really want. My primary example came one year when I secretly wanted a doll or kitchen set and I received a BB Gun instead. I was the opposite from the "Ralphie" character in the "Christmas Story" movie. For you that don't know, Ralphie wanted a BB Gun in the movie in the worst way.

 As I grew and began to gain confidence in cross dressing as a girl, my gender box became smaller and smaller.  On most days, it was a struggle to just exist in the world as I knew it. The worst part about it was I never had a choice. It was like I was a round peg being driven into a square hole and being told to like it. I didn't like it and my struggles led to a worsening of my gender dysphoria and mental health. Perhaps the worst part about my situation in those days was I had no one to talk to about it and knew no one with similar gender issues. I was so alone in my little gender box.

As I struggled forward in life, I discovered there were others who were in their own gender boxes and struggling with similar problems also. I like to refer to those days as my "Virginia Prince" and "Transvestia Magazine" days. First I could not believe there were so many other cross dressers in the world and they even had a regular publication I could subscribe to. Looking back, I think "Transvestia" came every two months and I could not wait until I received my new issue. Just reading and gazing at all the other pretty transvestites in the issue made living in my box a bit more bearable. Especially when I learned there were regular "socials or mixers" being held in a location I could actually drive to. I was dazzled when I went to my first mixer and saw all the different people who attended. All the way from weekend cross dressers to transsexuals' heading for gender surgeries. 

Even seeing all those different people in their own little boxes did not help me with mine. Deep down I knew I still didn't fit in with most of the cross dressers I met because I was way more serious and certainly not with the transsexuals because I wasn't serious enough. So I remained in my little box, mainly trapped until the transgender term made it's way into the mainstream consciousness in Ohio. Once I heard or saw transgender, I knew it described me better than anything I had ever seen. Finally, I could take a big marker and write proudly transgender on my box.

From there, it was a matter of connecting the dots and removing the box altogether from my existence. Of course, learning to live a new life as a new gender was a major process and not one which was to be taken lightly. To make matters worse, sometimes I tried to jump into new gender boxes and missed my step and had to retreat to try again. Even still, life had taught me by this time, nothing was going to be easy when it came to escaping being pounded into the square hole I was in but when I did, I could be happy. 

I was fortunate in that I lived long enough to escape my gender box and enjoy a new world as a transgender woman free from many worries I used to have. The process was difficult but worth it.