Finding Your Comfort Zone

 

Image from UnSplash.

Being a transgender woman, trans man or cross dresser means you need to find your own level of comfort as you transition.

For all sorts of reasons, some of us decide to go all the way from gender realignment surgeries to deciding to stay in their gender closets. It is a difficult decision to face the possibility of losing everything in the life you have worked so hard so succeed at over the years. 

In my case, comfort levels came sparingly to begin with, then increased in frequency as time went along. For example, I had an exceedingly difficult time becoming situated as a novice transgender woman in the world. Possibly, most of my problem came from my own refusal to face up to who I truthfully was a person. My gender situation led me to a very bad situation where I was stuck between the two binary genders, male and female. Of course, I still needed to maintain my male world in the job I worked, but on the other hand, I was spending every spare moment I had trying to reach my comfort level as a trans woman. The end result was, because I was denying my true self (female), I was wrecking my already fragile mental health. 

Fortunately, I was able to work my way through my messy mental problems and come out rather unscathed with the help of a good therapist. Together, we were able to separate my bi-polar depression issues from my transgender issues which dominated my life. And I mean total domination. I was very into advancing my life in a feminine world and attempting to figure out how and when I should let go of my old male self. Finding my comfort zone finally began to come in stages.

What I did was set up what I thought was a mini bucket list of things I wanted to do as a woman. Or at least try to. As with anything else in life, I sailed through a few of the items on my list and hit a brick wall on others. Overall, I was able to use the confidence I gained from my successful feminine ventures and go back to the drawing board and figure out what I was doing wrong on the others. For example, one of the best things I did was stop going to the gay venues where I was only perceived as a drag queen and began going to the sports venues I was comfortable in. When I did, I was encouraged to begin to build a whole new person as I quickly began to establish myself as a regular. Since my business background was in similar venues, I knew the basics of establishing yourself as a regular. Show up often, try not to be a distraction, smile often and tip well were the basics. Since I already stood out from the crowd as a transgender woman, the rest was easy. 

Through it all, the comfort zone I needed the most was access to the woman's room, for obvious reasons since beer was my drink of choice. I was overjoyed when rest room access was granted to me when I became a regular. I even was invited to join other women when they made the short trip to the bathroom. I was very sure I had arrived. 

It is easy to equate being in a gender comfort zone with acquiring all important confidence to get by in a new world. Life was amazing when I was a woman and hell when I was not, so finally, even I could tell a change was needed. No matter how complete the separation would be.

My needs had changed from my old male days and to not face them head on would be a return to the same old gender problems I had faced my entire life. For once in my life, I decided to do the right thing, and I found my comfort zone. My male self-gave up and freed me up to build my transgender womanhood. 

Medical Euphoria as a Trans Girl

 

JJ Hart at Club Diversity.

Yesterday, my yearly visit with my endocrinologist went very well. 

She went over all my blood work from the vampires and said I did not have any problems she could see. Plus, my all important Estradiol level was at the level she wanted it at. Since I am on the hormonal patches, she always asked if I have had any problems with the patches loosening and coming off. For some reason, I have always been lucky, and I have had no problems with my patches ever which has saved me from taking the injections I would have to give myself. 

After further pleasantries were exchanged, she asked if I had set up my next visit to the vampires for my annual bloodwork which I plan to do this summer. Sometime before my annual mammogram. 

Probably the most important question I asked her was how safe her job was. She paused and laughed she did not know which was the answer I expected to hear...sadly. I am selfish and love the fact I have been with her for years and do not want to go through the problems of breaking a new endo doc in most likely down here in Cincinnati. Where the Veterans Administration hospital is very congested and difficult to access. So, again, I will have to expect the worse and hope for the best as far as my healthcare is concerned under the current administration. 

While I am on the subject of my VA personnel cuts, tomorrow is my weekly meeting which used to be called the LGBTQ support group before the administration forbid any references to the LGBTQ world at all. Now, the word is the Dayton, Ohio hospital where the support meeting is held, will be cutting back three hundred fifty people in the coming months. So. every week, I expect the moderator of the group to be gone. If it happens, I will be sad because the moderator does such a great job of controlling the group. Which with my experience in support groups can be hard to do. 

 Looking ahead to other summer happenings my wife Liz and I are planning.  First of all, we want to go north to Columbus, Ohio to revisit two of our favorite venues. One of which is called "Club Diversity" which is a piano bar and lives up to its name of having a very diverse clientele. Before we go to Diversity, we always have to stop by "Thurman's" who has the best burgers in Ohio for a great dinner. It's been a while since we have been to either place, so it will be great fun to go back. 

Also, we will have fun when we go to my daughters for a combination birthday party for my son in law and two of my grandchildren. It's scheduled for the Fourth of July weekend and should be a good time to break the summer monotony. 

All in all, I am hoping for my contacts to not lose their jobs, and their lives can go on. Selfishly, it all makes my life so much easier and adds so much more euphoria than just medical. 

 

Gender Bystander

JJ Hart (left) and wife Liz (right).

It took me many years to learn I was nothing more than a gender bystander in my life.

As a young male type, I was always painfully shy of strangers first and women in particular. Girls seemed to live a magical life I could only dream of. In particular, the girls were the ones who were allowed to wear the colorful, pretty clothes while I was stuck in the same old drab male fashions. The closer I watched though, the more benefit the girls around me had. While I was too shy to even ask any girls out on dates, the attractive girls always seemed to have no problem with attracting attention. 

The problem with being a bystander was I saw only one side of the spectrum I was looking at. For example, I learned much later in life being the pursued gender (women) did not always mean good results. As if, what if no one pursues you? And what if the male pursuing you happens to be a toxic guy and you are stuck trying to get rid of him. So much to consider when you are a gender bystander on the outside looking in. 

I needed to pay my dues before I could ever begin to consider I was anything more than a bystander in my own life. Specifically, I needed to get past the impostor syndrome I was feeling on the nights I was feeling comfortable in my transgender womanhood. I needed to stop feeling I was looking down somehow on another completely different person, when in essence, it was the dominant feminine me all along. It was not until I completely accepted my true self, did others accept me also. Magically it seemed, my gender doors swung open, and I was given access behind the gender curtain of cisgender women everywhere. It was then I began to explore what I would do about my sexuality.

When all of this was happening, most everyone around me I knew from the transgender mixers I went to were seeking their feminine validation from seeking a man. Which meant also pleasing a man sexually. My problem was, being a bystander or not, I had never desired a man in anyway shape or form, so what was I to do? What I attempted to do was explore the world of men from a transgender woman's perspective. I went online, and I tried to find men to date to no avail as I was stood up more times than I care to remember. I only was able to go out with men a few times and one of those was with a transgender man. 

Finally, destiny stepped in, and I found a group of lesbians who would accept me which I always mention. Primarily, the lesbians showed me I could stand on my own two feet as a femininized person, and I did not need at all a man to validate my existence. When I did, I stopped being a gender bystander. I knew where I was coming from, and my goals were clear. I needed to begin HRT or gender affirming hormones as soon as I was approved for them. By doing so, I was giving my feminine self an extra tool to assist in her development. 

For the first time in my life, I was no longer a gender bystander in my own life. I discovered women did not receive all the breaks and, on the other hand led a very complex and layered life. Sometimes carefully crafted with or without men. It was quite the journey, and I was so pleased I could do it and survive. It was so enlightening not to be a bystander in my own life anymore. On hands help was the only way to live. 

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!