Primary Voting Day

 

JJ Hart Speaking out.

Today is the day to vote in the Ohio state mid-term primaries and is one of the voting days I cherish so much.

I cherish voting so much for several reasons. The main one of course is it is it's my duty as a citizen to vote. Another big one always comes when I have to show my driver's license to receive my ballot. I will forever remember the first time I had to present my new license with my gender marked with an "F" for female. I am sure no one in the crowded line was prouder than I was. Probably even more so than the first time I ever voted. 

After my wife Liz and I vote, tradition has it that we go out to eat at a nearby diner style restaurant. So, I will have to step up my feminine appearance a little. I am picking out a different pair of leggings and shoes to wear along with a light sweater, since it still a little chilly and rainy in the Cincinnati area. Of course, I will also shave and apply a light coat of makeup so I can look as presentable as possible. 

Sadly, if the current administration gets its way, my path to voting will be much more difficult under the so-called "Save" Act. As I understand it, I may need to present a birth certificate as a second form of identification to prove I was born in this country. The problem is that my name on my birth certificate had never been changed and does not match my new legal name anymore. To make matters worse, it is nearly impossible in Ohio to have a birth name changed on a birth certificate. I would be stuck between a legislative rock and a hard place along with so many other women, trans or cisgender and my precious right to vote would be gone. I guess I will have to face that challenge when I come to it. 

Speaking of challenges, tomorrow, I have a long-awaited appointment with my Endocrinologist. I say long awaited because my virtual visit with her has been postponed before. I get my hormonal medications through the Veterans Administration; she is my gate keeper and has to approve my all important gender affirming hormones. Perhaps all of you remember, recently the new administration in Washington at first dictated no more HRT for veterans through the VA. Then they partially reversed their edict to cover only new vets which is bad enough but obviously did not include me. 

My next problem could be coming up soon with my Endo herself. The word is, the Dayton, Ohio VA hospital where I receive part of my care will be cutting three hundred fifty of its staff. Which means I could lose access all together to the staff responsible for dispensing and monitoring my meds, Again, we will see what happens with her and the moderators who run the LGBTQ support group I go to virtually every Friday. 

It turns out voting maybe the least of my problems thanks to many circumstances I cannot control. Thanks to a convicted felon who is destroying the country. 

All I Saw were Walls

Image from Cristina Hernandez 
on UnSplash.

 I saw walls everywhere as I needed to build my own gender closet to protect me.

When I discovered I needed walls to protect my gender secret from the world when I was quite young, I managed to build strong ones. Difficult for anyone to penetrate because I felt something was basically wrong with me and if I was discovered, I knew a psychiatric visit was in my future. Back in the late 1950's and early to mid 1960's, any form of cross dressing was still considered a mental illness, and I knew well enough I was not mentally ill from wanting to try on dresses and makeup. None of that served any positive purpose, and I was driven deeper into my closet of walls. 

Soon enough, I began to escape my walls and began to explore the world as a cross dresser, long before I made my second major transition into a transgender woman. In the beginning, and for years afterwards, I grew frustrated on my progress and began to take more and more chances when I left the house as a woman. It was almost as if I was trying my best to get caught. So, everyone could see in my closet of walls and discover what was really going on with me. One way or another, discovery could lead me to a release of the gender torment I suffered from, and I could go on to live the life I had always dreamed of.

What I discovered was, dreams and reality were two different things. Or could I ever hope to go out and mix in well enough with the world of everyday cisgender women and survive. I was quite naive for years and thought I could be accepted as my form of an everyday woman by simply looking the part. Which led me to many memorable experiences in the girl's sandbox. Many of which I barely survived because I had allowed the wrong woman access to my closet. I had wrongly thought some women would allow me behind the gender curtain without a struggle and I needed to escape the sandbox with new claw marks up and down my back. Over time, my wounds healed, and I became a seasoned veteran of survival in a world ruled by women. 

As I did, my walls became the path of transition to transgender womanhood I was taking. I needed to plan far past just a day at a time presenting as a woman the best I could. How was I going to approach the time which was rapidly approaching when all of my life would be consumed by living my dream, and how did I stop it from becoming a nightmare? To make matters worse, I kept running headfirst into walls set up by my old male self. He never wanted to let go of his world and I needed to be careful I did not slip back into it when I was not paying attention to the way I walked or communicated in the world as a transgender woman. I was capable of ruining my whole day by forgetting to smile at the world, doing my best to talk like a woman, or move like a linebacker in drag. It took me years for muscle memory took over from my feminine side and I began to climb the walls I needed to be successful in the new gender world I was in. 

The best part was, I was seeing fewer and fewer walls. I had passed most of the challenges I had set up for myself. When I did, I became much happier and knew if I tried to stop the train I was on, I would go back to the miserable life I was trying to live between two genders. There was no way I was going to do that because of all the time and effort I put into releasing myself from all the walls I had built.

Reality

JJ Hart, middle, with Min and Kathy

 It took me years of denying my true gender identity to finally face the reality of who I was really was.

To do so, I needed to transition more than once to my surprise. I was naive and thought when I just put on a dress and makeup I was done transitioning. When in truth, I was only beginning my gender path. Deep down I knew there was something deeply wrong with how I viewed the world in all ways. Did I view it as male or a female. The only fact I did know was I was completely alone with my gender issues. There was no one else to talk to. 

Reality was a dark closet with no doors I could escape from. My only outlet was admiring my image in the family mirror growing up. I even went to the extent of taking on a rural newspaper route to add to my meager allowance to buy my own makeup and panty hose. By doing so, I could stay out of my mom's makeup and stop risking the possibility of snagging or running her hose. If you remember the panty hose which came in an plastic egg, I was a huge fan. The difference between just dressing in the clothes I found or bought was growing huge. No matter how much I cross dressed and admired myself in the mirror, the reality was, it was just never enough. Whatever I was doing, I could do it better. 

One of my biggest problems or dreams was to have my own glamorous wig. I grew up in the era of crew cuts or shorter hair for boys so there was nothing I could do to style what hair I had into anything resembling a feminine style. I was caught for many years, college in fact, before I could manage to sneak around and buy myself a wig I loved. It was long and blond, and I cherished it. I viewed the wig as one of the final pieces of my cross dressing puzzle. Maybe then, I could actually try to enter the world as who I was actually beginning to perceive as my authentic or true self. Little did I know, I was just spreading the seeds of my gender future.

The reality was, suddenly I was realizing I was following a life's path I wanted to be on. Each time I attempted to jump off of it, by purging all my feminine possessions. When I did, I could barely live with myself and could not wait to return to the protective confines of my transgender womanhood. Even though the path was bumpy and often threatening, the alternative of going back was even worse. The path allowed me to enter an oasis from life for me to judge where I was and where I wanted to go. As I always say, I was careful and took my time because I had so much to lose in my male life. I needed to make sure I was doing the right thing before I entered the world of women fulltime. 

Reality showed me the way; I finally put aside everything I had which screamed male and never looked back. As I said, the path I took was long and dark and I made my share of mistakes when I ran into the walls. The powder keg which was me needed to be de-fused so I could live a free life in a very pleasurable environment. I can't say the wait was worth it since I had no choice. I was stuck in a male world of my own making and did not have the courage to realize I had the power to break out and live my truth...or reality. 

She is With Me

 

Image from UnSplash.

It took me far too long to decide who was with whom in my life.

For the longest time, I thought I was a man cross dressing as a woman, but the opposite was true, I was a woman cross dressing as a man, and for the most part failing at accepting all my efforts. Through it all, my female side was pressing ahead for dominance in my life. It was difficult because my male self was so situated in the life he had created, he did not want to give any of it up. After all, white male privilege was so difficult for me to establish, then give up. He certainly was not giving up without a protest. 

To make matters worse, I was always painfully shy around girls and women, so my workbook on women was pretty much blank when I needed it. Many times, it seemed I was flailing in the dark when I first attempted to open my gender closet door and sneak out. What I began to do, very slowly, was piece together a set of positive public experiences I was putting together from my new life as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman. Once I did, I was increasingly proud to say, she is with me. 

Little did I know, at that point I would have to take my new femininized life one step at a time. Naturally, my earliest steps were scary. Except the ones when I went to local regional mixers in Columbus, Ohio at a transexual friend's house. There I learned a few of the different layers of transition I could expect to follow. If I decided to follow the path some of the attendees were on. The research was important because my whole life was in the balance. I had a wife, family and a great job to worry about. Plus, I met all sorts of new and different people under the LGBTQ spectrum, from lesbians to cross dresser admirers, I saw it all.

The whole process made a huge difference in my life. Finally, my old male self was seeing the end of his dominance in my life and regardless of the warnings he gave me that I was going to lose it all. Even though I was having the time of my life, I was still scared of the ultimate outcome, or how I wanted to live for the rest of my life. I was in much deeper than ever before and deep down I knew just throwing on a dress and wig was not ever going to be enough. I kept going back to to my formative cross-dressing years when I realized I wanted to do more than wanting to look like a girl, I wanted to be a girl. It was to start me on a lifetime of learning what transgender womanhood was all about.

The journey was a long one for me as it started with no external gender information available to me in the dark information days before the internet. It continued with meeting and learning from all sorts of women from very supportive lesbians to unsupportive cisgender women. The message began to come through loud and clear; she is with me and had always been so.

It's all in the Energy

Image from Ava Sol
on UnSplash.

 Every once in a while, I receive a comment about how I must have been brave to pursue the gender path I chose.

While I think the word brave is a little too strong to describe what I did, I do think courage may be a better word. Looking back at all the days when I was a novice in the world as a cross dresser or transgender woman, I wonder how I made it. I cannot emphasize enough how many mistakes I made in those early days. Through it all, I finally realized, being successful meant I needed to add another layer of work to my presentation. 

Of course, the major one was how I presented and was able to blend in with the world as a woman and be accepted. Then there was the problem of taking my femininized image out of the mirror and adding movement to the picture. It was difficult for me to approximate as closely as I could the fluid movements of cisgender women in society. Then, I discovered I needed to work adding another layer of feminine energy to be truly accepted in the world as myself. I was not looking to be mistaken for a cisgender woman but, on the other hand, still be accepted as anything but a man just putting on a dress parttime, or worse yet, some sort of drag queen. 

My goal was to carve out a new life as a woman from a different background. What I tried to be was be kind and smile to the women who were curious about who I really was, and what was I doing in their world. I even went as far as mentally trying to project a feminine aura into the world around me. I practiced so much, the process became second nature to me. If cisgender women were capable of projecting so much positive energy, then so could I. There was to be no more sour male expressions designed to keep the world away. 

When I started to put all three of my energies together, my life as a transgender woman began to come together. I just wish now, I had not waited so long to understand the road I was on. My deep, dark gender closet was not so dark that I could not find my way out and arrive at the light. My only excuse is I did not understand the size of the closet I was dealing with and how much energy it would take me to break free. Once I did find the light, I learned from then on, success as a transgender woman would only be dictated by how much energy I put into understanding the road or path I was on. If I did not give the process my total attention, I found I would never make it. Which caused major problems with the rest of my male life which was demanding energy also. 

Attempting to juggle time at my job and time with my wife, took a tremendous amount of energy too, and I was exhausted. Finally, I could take the pressure no more and gave in to my inner feminine self who was screaming for her chance to live.  When she had the chance, she seized her opportunity and ran with it. Especially when I added gender affirming hormones into the mix. 

From then on, I began to realize it was all in the energy, and for me, it was all feminine as I entered transgender womanhood.

Trans Girl at a Birthday Party

 

An image I took at one of the tables at the
birthday party. 

As I previously wrote about, I recently attended a birthday party for a dear friend of mine who happens to be a transgender woman recovering from a stroke.

For the party, I chose a bright colored red loose-fitting top paired with flats and my paisley patterned leggings. My makeup was a close shave followed by moisturizer, foundation, lipstick and eye makeup for a change. 

The only problem I had was getting my GPS voice navigation to work so I did not have to keep looking down at my phone for directions as I drove on busy highways. Even still, I was able to make it there and back with only three miscues when I needed to turn around. Since my wife is from Cincinati and knows the city well, she normally does all the driving, so I am not used to gathering my courage to do it myself. I was able to calm down and breathe a big sigh of relief when I made it. 

My friend is very popular and had a large turnout of around twenty people in the venue she chose. It was her first time out into the world during her recuperation and handled it rather well I thought. Scattered in the group were five or six transgender women who I had not seen in quite a while. It turned out the cisgender woman I ended up sitting next to was very nice and we had a nice conversation with another woman (cis) across the table. I was a little surprised how the conversation never turned to how we all met the birthday woman, but it never did. She took a picture of the two of us, so maybe someday it will turn up so I will be able to pass it along. 

All in all, I enjoyed myself and was able to sneak past the crowds to see my friend to drop off a card and gift from Liz and me. I could tell she was struggling with all the interaction, so I was able to say hello and goodbye without any interruptions. I came away from seeing her again with a ton of respect for anyone recovering from a stroke and hopefully soon, we can meet up again on the patio of a restaurant we used to regularly go to. One that even I can find!

Second Chances

Image from Mitch on UnSplash.

 
Very early in my final transition from male to female life, my wife Liz told me to make the most of it because very few human beings ever get the chance to stop their lives and start all over.

Her comment made me feel better and yet scared me more as I stared over the gender cliff I was looking at into what I perceived as my dream life. No matter how much time and effort I put into the final preparation into transgender womanhood, I still did not know the full extent of what I was facing. More precisely, I did not have any conception of the uphill battle I would be facing to leave my old male self behind. Once I was behind the feminine gender curtain on a regular basis, I discovered how much further I needed to go to be successful. 

 Following several (many) well documented mistakes in my presentation, I was able to successfully femininize my external male body to a point where I could blend in with other women in the world on a regular basis. I say external presentation, because my internal idea of who I was still presented a problem. It really wasn't until I began to take gender affirming hormones, did I feel as if my interior self was changing to match my exterior look. Very quickly, I began to feel differences to my emotions and for the first time in my life, I could cry tears of sorrow or joy. As the world around me changed, I could feel changes in temperature and even smell as my senses heightened.  Needless to say, I was amazed by the changes and so surprised as I waited for the next set of changes to set in. 

As with anything else in life, the gender changes I was feeling from the hormones began to slow down, and I began to settle into the new life I had made for myself. It all meant finding a new set of friends which I did who turned out to be a small group of lesbians who accepted me for what I was, a woman from a different path than them. When I did fit in, it meant my sexuality would not have to change to men which was successful for me and also meant I would not have to seek out a man to validate my existence. 

Once my new life got rolling, second chances did also. I was able to take an early retirement and live off selling most all of the vintage collectibles my second wife and I had purchased over the years. It all meant I did not have to worry about working another job where I would have to transition at. No second chances needed. 

Perhaps the most important realization I learned from my gender rebirth was, I did not need much direction. As suspected, my inner woman took over quickly and made all the difficult decisions such as moving in with and ultimately marrying my current wife, Liz. Between the two of them, I give all the credit for shaping me into transgender womanhood and making me into the person I am today. 

Diversity is Wonderful

 

LGBTQ Flag, Jack Lucas
Smith on UnSplash.

This morning, I had several errands to run ahead of a fun birthday party I am going to tomorrow. 

The first stop I needed to make this morning was to a local pharmacy which also sells greeting cards, so I could pick up a card for my friend tomorrow. It did not take me long to find a suitable card and I moved on to check out with the guy at the front cash register. For once, since I had such a small purchase, I did use real live cash which I think threw both of us off. 

As far as the cashier went, I had the deep suspicion he was of the LGBTQ community, as he greeted me warmly. After making small talk concerning how nice of a day it was, I left in route to my second stop, putting gas in the car for tomorrow's trip.

At the gas station, I was not prepared to do anything else but pay at the pump and not see another person. All of those plans went away when the card reader at the pump did not work, and I had to go inside to pay. Again, all the reservations of meeting another person were set aside when the cashier was very nice to me and again, I went on with my day.

My next stop turned out to be the toughest and it did not even involve another person to interact with. It was me trying my best to navigate a new ATM at my bank, so I can give a little birthday gift tomorrow. Whoever designed the new machine did not figure out the person using it needed to be a master mover to use it.  Fortunately, there was no one else in the drive thru, because I finally needed to undo my seat belt and open the door of the car to finish my transaction. 

My final stop was to the nearby coffee shop which my wife Liz and I enjoy, and even I found a way to make an easy trip to a drive thru more difficult. When I arrived at the coffee shop, two huge trash dumpsters were blocking one of the entrances to the business. So, then I needed to follow another road around the end of the building to go into the drive thru from its back entrance. Which I finally did. After I ordered and made it up to the window was when the diversity of the day really began to set in. 

As I looked up into the store from my car, what did I see on the wall, but a huge LGBTQ Pride flag. Right then and there I knew it was nice to be wanted in a diverse situation. Especially, in today's world. 

The party tomorrow should be another comfortable diverse situation. It is a birthday party for a transgender woman friend at a big Italian restaurant in a nearby suburb of Cincinnati. To my knowledge, this is the first big outing of my friend's recovery from a fairly major stroke. 

If I don't get lost getting there, I will let you know how the party went for my transgender friend.  

Was I Outdated?

 

My wife Liz. Key West Florida.

Along the way in my increasingly long life, I have considered myself to be outdated. 

As I grew up through the late fifties and the early to mid 60's, I went through my mom's fashions, all the way to the short mini skirted times when I was in middle school. By the time I had cross dressed my way in the mirror to a place where I could control it at all, the world of fashion had changed, and I was outdated for the first time. My miniskirts gave way to hippie boho fashion. I loved the long-haired hippie women around me.

By now you are probably thinking I was resistant to change or was simply ignoring the overall basics of women's fashion. The biggest basic is that fashion always changes. A woman is encouraged to go with the flow of fashion for a number of reasons, good or bad. As I see it, the good or fun aspect of fashion are the seasonal changes. I write occasionally about when the seasons do change here in Ohio, how satisfying it is for me to go through my wardrobe and judge what stays and what goes. It is at these times; I have to figure out if I am outdated or not and most importantly, does it still matter to me at my age. 

As I am sure you all know, as cisgender women age, they go through progressions especially involving their hair. Many start wearing the longer hair of their youth and as they age, the hair becomes shorter and shorter. It was the one age trend I resisted until I had quite a bit of my hair trimmed off at the end of last year before my wife Liz and I went on vacation. It turns out, I fit right in with the other women on the vacation tour we went on to the Florida Keys. 

Just fitting in, was something I never wanted to do. Preferably, as much as possible, I wanted to be on the cutting edge of fashion, if, it involved having a Boho lean. I never got over the admiration I had for the women during my college and military days when I was required to wear my hair short. I made up for the short buzz cuts I had to wear by wearing my hair longer than almost all other women during my senior years. 

If you are familiar with "Stana Short" on the famous Femulate blog, the short she is referring too is in regard to her length of hemlines on her famously long and shapely legs. I never had to face the skirt length dilemma following my love affair with miniskirts in my youth until the eighties I believe it was when they briefly returned. One of my favorite outfits I had was a black mini I wore with one of my fluffy long sweaters and a pair of flats when I went out shopping. It was one of the few times in my life as a transgender woman that my fashion matched the majority of what cisgender women were wearing.

These days, at the age of seventy-five, I am happy to be able to stay active and mobile at all. Sometimes I think my favorite colorful leggings make me outdated in my fashion, but I love them and that is all that matters. I suppose too, I am allowed to be outdated.