Independence Day?

 

On this Fourth of July weekend, many think there is a possibility this will be the last we will ever be able to celebrate as transgender women, trans men or otherwise. Since the Supreme Court recently installed the president as a king, the coming election looms as a scary proposition. As the former president has already indicated he will never be unseated if he wins again. Plus, if you doubt me, google Project 2025 and read it. The entire LGBTQ community is in danger.

Regardless, this post is not going to be political in nature as most of you know who I support for the presidency and I will never change anyone else's mind. Plus, I don't see it as a done deal President Biden will run again.

This post is about my own independence day from the bonds I suffered when I was living as a man. 

I have plenty to celebrate since I took over a half a century to shake free of all the unwanted male life style I inherited, if I wanted to or not. Over my half century, I played all the male games presented to me such as sports and service in the military. Secretly hoping one or both would help me to just settle into a male life. Even becoming a father didn't help. I was stuck as the round peg being hammered into a square hole.

The longer I lived as a man, the stronger my ties became to the gender I never really wanted to have anything to do with. Especially difficult to break were all the male privileges I accumulated when I became a fairly successful middle aged white man. If I liked it or not, I became an automatic "sir" to the public I encountered. 

All the years it took me to sever the male bonds I had were worth it as I began to live as a transgender woman. Sure, it was different to live under a different set of gender rules but each one made sense when I did it. Major changes included being excluded from male conversations since seemingly I had lost a large portion of my intelligence, all the way to learning the all important rules of being a woman in public and how the security would change me forever. There were more changes to be sure but those were the big ones.

When I got up this morning, my wife Liz said "Happy Independence Day" and I don't mean the national one. I didn't have to think long and feel very positive about what she said about me coming a long way in my life. After all, she was one of the main influences when I finally put what was left of my male existence behind me. She told me she had never seen any male in me at all which was all I needed to hear to transition totally.

I had a question from a reader the other day which asked me did I think women were the most accepting of a transgender person. I said, in my opinion yes, by far I had been supported so much more by the women in my life and would have had a much more difficult time playing in the girl's sandbox without their help. I learned among other things, there was so much more to a woman's life than makeup and fashion. Which I had to learn to move forward to live my gender dream. Thanks for asking!

My independence day turned out to be one worth celebrating more than I ever considered.

 

Finishing What you Started

Dinner with my wife Liz on Left

My parents always pushed me to finish what I started. 

Little did they know how their priorities for me  would influence me in my future years. As I began my early years as an innocent cross dresser just trying to justify my new gender feelings. The more I went in front of the mirror, the less I could un-see what I imagined myself to be if I was an actual girl. Seeing as how I was in a shared space with myself, my imagination was key to survival. Often I spent hours at school dreaming of rushing home ahead of my family and cross dressing with the feminine clothes I managed to accumulate. I made very little money with my allowance I earned along with what I earned on my newspaper neighborhood route I took on. I think my parents were surprised when I was so good with doing my job delivering papers, not knowing the real motivation I had. Which was, I needed the money to buy more make-up or clothes if I could find them.

I was well on the way towards finishing what I started the older I became. What happened was the mirror became reality when I started to leave my closet and journey into the world. Plus, for years, I wondered if I was ever able going to attempt to finish what I started. Was it even possible? To finish, I would have to completely overcome the challenges equated with changing out family, friends and even employment. The more I went forward in the world as a transgender woman, the more sense I felt in my life as I knew it. For a change, I actually thought I could make it towards my dream goal of being a woman, transgender or not. Mainly because of the times I was actually being accepted in the world as my authentic self. From shopping, to eating out to making special trips to Christmas activity, I was doing it all. 

The problem became I became too good in my new life. I can't say it enough how natural I felt when I was finishing what I started so I kept pushing myself to do more. That meant nothing feminine was off limits for me. Except for the occasional redneck sports bar I went into to enjoy a drink and an appetizer, I did not have any major problems at all. The exception was the one venue I went to when the police were called on me for using the restroom. I never finished what I started there and never went back as I had several other venues I was welcomed at. I realized I should spend my money where I was welcomed. 

Eventually, I knew to come closer to finishing what I started, I would need to research gender affirming hormones. If I was approved for HRT, I felt I could come closer than ever before to femininizing my exterior body to match my feminine inner gender. I was medically approved and before I knew it, the hormones had produced a very androgynous body for me. So much so, I needed to move up my timetable of when I planned on going fulltime as a transgender woman. My skin was softening so much, my breasts and hair were growing so fast, I could not turn back. Perhaps, most surprisingly to me were the internal changes which were taking place. My world was softening and for the first time in my life, I could have an emotional cry. 

Even though I have been successful in mostly finishing what I started on my gender journey, as I nearly reach the age seventy five. Three quarters of a century has taught me what Yogi Berra said is true. It's not over till it's over. I never make a secret of the paranoia I face over facing my final years fighting for my gender in an assisted  living facility. I have finally been able to tell myself I will face that hurdle when I come to it.

Fortunately, I have survivors such as my wife Liz and daughter who respect my gender wishes and won't have a huge family argument when I die. A problem  I see so much of in the transgender community when a family disapproves of a person living as their authentic self. Who would have ever thought finishing what you started would be such a time consuming and difficult process. I certainly didn't when I first got a glimpse of myself all those years ago.    

Back from the Brink

Picnic with my wife Liz on right. 
 

As I changed out my estrogen patches this morning, I thought about how far back from the brink I have come over the years towards my dream of becoming a full time transgender woman. 

Along the way, it became evident to me I needed to streamline my life If I was ever going to succeed in my goals. I carried way too much old male baggage with me and if I ever expected to actually to succeed, I needed to determine what I needed to leave behind. Since I was attempting a later aged MtF transition, I had a truck load of baggage to consider such as family, friends, employment etc. As it turned out, I received an even break with my family as I retained my daughter in my life but lost my brother along with his extended red-neck family. So, I considered I did well, all things considered. As far as close friends went, I never made many which probably due to the fact I always thought someday I would have to disclose my gender issues to them. But first, I needed to be truthful to myself and realize my dreams went far beyond just looking and cross dressing as a woman. I wanted to be one, a huge difference when it came to telling another person. 

My issue with telling other friends became a non issue when sadly, most of my other close friends passed away. Leaving me on the brink by myself and looking down a very steep gender cliff. During this time, the pressure was continually building to make a decision on how my life was to be lived. Would the status-quo be good enough to get by, or did I need to make a radical change and hope for the better. By this time also, my second wife had passed away, leaving me with no real relationship obstacle to hurdle. Essentially, I had free reign to do as I pleased. If I wanted to take my feminine self to a downtown festival or an outdoor concert I did it.  The whole process helped my to decide my gender future as I continued to feel so natural. Even though I was on the brink.

In the meantime, I was slowly shedding as much of my old male baggage as I could. If I could help it, I never bought any male clothes as I expanded my feminine wardrobe. If and when I stood on the brink of my cliff, I wanted to look as feminized as possible. It worked as I was able to interact in a whole new world to me. 

Eventually, what happened , my new friends shoved me off of my brink and at the same time provided me a safe, soft landing. They took me at face value as a transgender woman and did not want to know anything about my male past, so I was happy beyond belief, I couldn't figure out why I had such good fortune but could only surmise it was because of all of the years of gender struggle I spent getting to the brink. My world was finally coming full circle.

I also need to mention women such as Kim, my wife Liz and my therapist Dr. "C" who helped me negotiate me coming back from my brink. Plus, as I write this, I realize I never came back from the brink, I made my way through it. 

Even still, being at the brink for all those years was  the mental challenge of a lifetime and without all the help I received from the women around me, I am not so sure I would have made it. Or, at the least I would have been a different person today.  

Transgender Truth

Image from Ava Sol
on UnSplash

Often as a transgender woman or trans man, we have a hard time find finding out our personal truths. 

Our truths can be hidden behind a maze of society issues which we have to work our way through. In other words, is what we are thinking a real truth or something acting like one. Did I really want to be a girl or just temporally look like one? I struggled to figure it all out. 

Worse yet, was the fact I needed to hide my emerging truth from the world. How was I ever going to discover if my gender life as a guy was indeed a lie unless I was able to take on the world as my own sense of femininity. Was it all an act or was it real, who knew? Little did I know, I was embarking on a lifetime trip to determine how true my gender issues were. As I went along, hiding became less and less of an alternative because I was finding out how natural I felt when I was playing in the girl's sandbox. All the bastions of sacred femininity were suddenly opening to me in the forms of being invited to girl's night's out and earning my way into having women's rest room privileges. 

When I did, the pressure started to mount to live my life more and more as a transgender woman. Every time I had to interact with the world as a man, I felt as if I was somehow an impostor and I was just going through the motions. Plus, my obligations to spouse, family, friends and work started to weigh heavily on my mental health. I did my best to enlist the aid of a qualified gender therapist to help me. There were very few of the therapists in those days who knew anything at all about gender issues, so mine was hard to find. Looking back, I think I saw her advertisement in an issue of "Transvestia" Magazine. When she saw me after a couple of appointments, she told me her truth which I did not listen to. She said, there was nothing she could do with me wanting to be a woman and somehow I would have to learn to live with it or accept it. Like I said, I ignored her advice and continued to ignore my basic truth.

Speaking of truth, currently, I am writing a book gift which was given to me on Mother's Day this year by my daughter. It is a year long project designed to answer questions from my family. The book will be given  to me after I am done and then passed on so others can understand my life and truths after I am gone. One of the questions from my trans grandchild is what has been the most ill-advised thing you (me) has ever done and I think ignoring my therapist's advice may have to be up around the top. Had I listened to her and told my second wife the truth, I would have saved myself so much turmoil over the years and I would have faced my truth. How bad could have it have been. I would have had to find other employment and new friends but rebuilding my life then could have been easier. 

I was stubborn and held on to my idea I ever was male for way too long and it cost me years of alcohol abuse and mental health problems. I was so fortunate I found and was accepted by women who I admired so much who embraced my idea of what an ideal woman would act like. Ironically, the evil TERF's were few and far between. I was allowed to flourish as I learned so much from the women around me who accepted me for what I was for the first time in my life. 

My truth was finally evident to me. I had never been meant to live a male existence and I just wish I had faced my transgender truth earlier than the age of sixty. Sixty is when I gave in and gave up any hope of ever living as a male again. In addition, I am so proud of my college aged transgender grand child for coming out so early in her life. Hopefully, my existence helped hers.

A Transgender Marathon

Archive Image

 I'm sure you have heard the saying it's a marathon, not a sprint. This is especially true for transgender women and trans men.

Yesterday, I read a social media post from a first time transgender woman going out in public for the first time. In the post, she was bemoaning the fact after applying her makeup and seeing pictures, she did not look as good as she thought she did. My heart went out to her and I mentioned I went down the same path. Learning the art of makeup is just the first part of a transgender marathon into understanding yourself. 

Others who read the post chimed in with similar thoughts and even expanded it into impostor syndrome as a future possible reaction the person might have to face. 

Looking back, I could remember vividly how badly I felt when I first started my visits out of the house and into the public's eye. Back then, pictures were difficult to come by and were mainly only accessible by the old "photo kiosks" and drug stores. Only one time get I get brave enough to take a roll of film to one of the kiosks to see how I looked on film. I was shocked, and not in a good way, I obviously looked like a cross dresser and a bad one at that. The worst part was, the person who developed and gave me my pictures knew me and even worse yet, his Dad worked with my Dad. My marathon was almost over before it started. If I liked it or not. 

As it turned out, I moved back into the mirror and did my best to remove the negative self image I still had from the ill advised pictures. It actually took me years to try to attempt more pictures as my marathon moved on. As with anything else, the more you work on something, the better you become. Also technology was on my side with better cameras, which offered more than the very expensive Polaroids giving instant pictorial feedback. I was fascinated with my first cell phone which took pictures and better yet I had my first computer that I used to upload cross dressed pictures of myself. By doing so, I attracted attention, flattering to begin with in chatrooms until my wife caught on. She learned the computer skills faster than I did, so I needed to try to catch up as fast as possible. 

My marathon marched on, I gained more and more confidence until I reached increasing problems with my gender dysphoria. It seemed, no matter how much effort I put into my feminine appearance and deportment, the more I felt like a guy in a dress. To survive, I finally had to come to a basic conclusion. I was not as good looking as a woman I thought I was, or as bad. There was always the middle point I needed to shoot for. Finally, I knew who I was and I had the confidence to move on from new problems such as impostor syndrome. 

Again, I needed to come to a middle point where I could survive as a person. While I could never reclaim a girl's childhood experiences, or the problems associated with having periods or pregnancies, I had to go through my own set of experiences which presented their own problems. For example, I needed to try to escape my own gender demons which everyone in life seems to have, male or female, trans or not. I finally had to end the part of my marathon I agonized over for so long and claim my own brand of womanhood. Somehow I always found a way to survive and found a path. I was able to chase it and find success...in my own way. Which turned out was all I could do.

Going all the way back to the person who was just starting their public journey as a transgender person, try to make your marathon as easy as you can, Roll with the punches and move along as quickly as you can but always remembering the entire process is a marathon, not a sprint and sometimes, you are your own worst enemy. 

Good Together

 

Image from Columbus, Ohio
from the Archives.

As I grew into expressing my authentic self, I felt the pressure of attempting to placate what was left of my male self while I was increasingly living as a transgender woman. 

Increasingly, I felt as if I was living with a stranger when I tried to express my male self. He was fading quickly into my past, much quicker than I thought possible. Who was this man who controlled my life for so long? It took me so long to have the courage to figure it out. As I always point out, the answer was an easy one. I never was a man cross dressing as a woman, I was a woman cross dressing as a man. Once I figured it out, my life became so much easier. 

Sadly, my male and female sides never were good together. My second wife was fond of teaming up with my male self against my femininized insecure self. When she needed help the most, it was extremely difficult to find. Fortunately, I was stubborn enough to mentally tell them to go to hell. Mainly, because I felt so natural when I was following my transgender instincts. 

Instincts led me to improving my natural presentation as a woman including fashion and make-up arts. Maybe as I improved, my wife and male self became more and more scared. Somehow they saw me glimpse my reality and they did not like the future they saw. Specifically, the very few nights, my wife actually went out to eat with my femininized self, she made it painfully obvious she did not like me. More than anything else, her attitude hurt my feelings since I had attempted to dress down to meet her standards of wearing jeans, boots and sweaters. My next step down for me was to wear no makeup at all which would have defeated the purpose of going at all. Essentially, I gave up on any idea of us co-existing as women of any type. We were never good together. 

All I really wanted was an even break, or so I thought. The more I ended up exploring the world as a novice transgender woman, the more I wanted to do. Eventually, I could take it no longer and took the only way out I had. I went the gender affirming hormone route and decided to pursue a life as a trans woman and the rest of the story is relatively easy. The more life I lived, the more I felt more relaxed and good together with myself. 

Life was good again as I had come full circle from the dark days of death and gender dysphoria. 

Pride Month Out-Reach

 

As many of you may remember, I am a member of the Alzheimer's Greater Cincinnati diversity committee. 

Even though, due to my health reasons I could not make it to the main Pride celebration this year, I am happy to day, the association made it without me and hosted a table of information. 

As I always add, my passion to end this terrible disease stems from my Dad passing away after suffering terribly. 

If you are interested in volunteering your time, you can contact me, or your local Alzheimer's chapter.

 

Trans Night at a Drag Show

 

The "Rubi Girls", Dayton, Ohio

After I came out of my closet to reveal my authentic feminine self to my daughter, she took me at face value and kicked me firmly out of what was left of my old male life. 

For my birthday, my kid took me to her upscale beauty salon for a color and cut then pulled the biggest surprise of all, an invitation to join her woman friends to a night out at a drag show. This was no usual drag show, this was an annual show put on by a drag troupe called the "Rubi Girls" in Dayton, Ohio. The group is so successful in the area, they have raised literally millions of dollars for AIDS research

For the evening, my daughter had invited approximately five or six of her Mom friends to go along to the show so essentially going with them was my official first girl's night out. Needless to say I was petrified of going but accepted my invitation. As I was going, I was determined to do my best to stay in the background and only interact when I was spoken to. My daughter warned me ahead of time who the potential problem people were so I could be forewarned who not to interact with. On the other hand, there were a couple other women who previously knew me as my male self and they turned out to be very approachable

The show itself was a riot and the drag queens lived up to their billing as being the best in the area. Even better was the fact one of the stars was my oldest grandson's fourth grade teacher. When we arrived and found our seats, for some reason, my daughter left me on my own and I finally needed to reach out and interact with another woman or two we went with. It could have been the two drinks I had to relax me or not but I didn't have any problems with either woman. I even warned them the show would certainly be "X" rated. The venue was packed and everyone seemed to have a great time and most importantly, I survived going out with a group of my daughters women friends. In addition, I learned being with women was everything I hoped it would be and since I was a novice, it was even better no one wanted to question me concerning my gender or relationship to my off spring. 

After the show was over, we all piled into my daughter's van for the short trip home and I enjoyed listening to all the comments about the drag show. Better yet, I had the chance to stop at one of my favorite venues to wind down and think about what I had achieved. For one thing, being forced out of my closet totally was wonderful, once I recovered from all my fear. I was able to do what women do to loosen the conversation such as compliment each other on articles of clothing. In fact, I still remember complimenting Sandra on her boots. She was one of two other women who knew me as my kid's parent. I can't say the process was easy but very soon, it all became so natural I knew I never wanted to go back into my male closet.

Transgender night at a drag show may have been just me as the very few transgender women in the audience. It was difficult for me to judge but I think the venue held around one hundred fifty people and naturally I did not go around asking if anyone else was trans. It was no big deal for me anyhow since normally I was alone in the venues I went in unless my transgender friend Racquel was there with me. Plus, all of this happened way before I met and was accepted by my own small group of lesbian friends. 

I look at it all now as a big learning process which helped me to come out to my grandkids. When my eldest grandson learned I was crossing the gender border to play in the girls sandbox, he equated me with being the same as his teacher. Then his mother had to go back and explain the difference in gay and transgender to a fourth grader. Which she did. 

As far as I am concerned being forcibly kicked out of my closet and made to walk and talk my transgender self was one of the best things which could have happened to me. Being with other women and surviving or even thriving just reinforced my thoughts I was doing the right things and was on the right path. From there I researched gender affirming hormones and never looked back.

Young and Dumb

 

Banquet image with Liz on left. 

I often wonder how wise I was when I decided to follow my gender path to becoming a full time transgender woman. In many ways, I am referring to the good old, if I knew then what I know now, would have I done it.

The short answer is most certainly I would have tried my best to follow the same path because I had no choice. Either I transitioned or I died. I made it so simple even the most extreme transphobic person could understand.  

Transgender or not, we all go periods in our life when we are young and dumb. Fortunately, most of us live through this process and learn from our mistakes. This is especially true for transgender woman or trans men as they go through an assimilation process leading to living as their authentic selves . In many blog posts, I document more than a few of my fashion and makeup  mistakes when I first started my journey out of my dark gender closet. It wasn't until years of experimenting with my makeup did I seek out professional help which happened at a cross dresser - transgender mixer I happened to go to. I put my ego aside and volunteered for a professional to redo my makeup. He did a tremendous job and even explained what he was doing so I understood as he went along. I was very impressed with the results and basked in the praise I received from others I met. I went from a casual believer in the power of makeup to a total devotee.

Even when I was young and dumb, I tried to conduct myself with some sort of grace and decorum. I made sure I distanced myself from the other trans woman who was flashing others at the Andy Warhol show we went to in Columbus at The Ohio State University as well as making sure I did not abuse the rest room privileges other cross dressers did at a gay bar we went to. Leaving the toilet seat up and urinating all over the toilet in the women's room was certainly not cool and was nothing I wanted to be associated with. It wasn't too long after that when the sign went up on the door...real women only.

On the other hand, I still did quite a few dumb things which could have gotten me into trouble when I was in my formative cross dressing years. I drove way too much after I consumed vast amounts of beer was my main sin as well as how I dressed when I first came out into the world. My trashy fashion sense was just screaming look at me when the best policy was just to blend in with the world. My other problems I was lucky to escape happened when I ignored my new personal security needs as a transgender woman. No longer could I fall back on my departed male safety privilege and I needed to watch where I parked and what I wore around certain people. I was bailed out of one close call by my second wife and another time, I was able to buy my way out of trouble with two men I encountered on a dark urban sidewalk when I was leaving a gay bar.

I always have been a believer in that I have always had some sort of a guardian angel looking over me and she was certainly helping me out during my self destructive coming out days. I am sure, many times she was shaking her head and saying not again. How I was driving in those days alone many times could have resulted in a very serious injury. 

As with anything else, if you are transgender, life has given you extra layers of existence to work your way through. You need to deal with life's normal problems along with a whole new set of others which often are completely unexpected. Crossing the gender border can often be brutal at the hands of the public which chooses not to support us at all. Which we will find out again with yet another major Supreme Court decision coming up soon. Too many people didn't make it through the young and dumb period of their lives and are now old and dumb.