Loneliness

 

Image from Engin Arkyurt
on UnSplash. 

Growing up as I transitioned from my unwanted male birth gender into my feminine one, often I was intensely lonely. The mirror was no replacement for real people.

Since I was still in the pre-internet generation, I found it impossible to reach out and socialize with any others with similar gender issues. I mean, how strange was it that I wanted to be a girl anyway? To make matters worse, the thought of who I should be dominated my daily thinking. I separated myself from the rest of the world my age. I lived in a rural area with very few friends to start with, so I had very few potential friends to begin with. To combat my problems, I did the usual male reaction and internalized everything since I had no choice on coming out to my parents.

It wasn’t until I learned of the “Tranvestia” publication and Virginia Prince that I learned there might be a light of my gender tunnel which was not the train. I learned maybe an entire life of loneliness was not in store for me. I eagerly read of all the other pretty transvestites in the pages who managed to even stay married and have a career. Life went on for me in the 1960’s and then, all of the sudden, I had bigger problems ahead than wanting to be a girl. At that time, the draft for the Vietnam War had me directly in its crosshairs, with very few alternatives to consider. One of the main ones was what I was going to do concerning my gender challenges. Somehow, I knew the drill sergeants in Army basic training were not going to allow miniskirts as part of the uniform.

Making the best of a bad situation, I enlisted for three years to attempt being included in the American Forces Radio and Television Service and thanks to a couple contacts I developed with my congressman, I was fortunate enough to make it and left home for my three-year tour.

In the Army, I was anything but lonely and my confidence as a person increased, but at the same time my inner woman suffered. I resorted to my old habit of daydreaming of what I would do to make myself the most attractive woman I could following my military discharge. I even dreamed of which new car I would buy to show up my fiancé who deserted me when I had to join the Army. Instead of receiving mail from home from a girlfriend or lover, all I had was me and the letters I received from mom. The forced teamwork activities of basic training kept my mind off my basics for the most part. Was I a man or a woman. Certainly, basic was no place to figure it out. I needed to be the best man I could be to get by.

Time went by and I was awarded a spot with AFRTS which in turn, kept me out of most of heavy-duty Army duties. I was sent to Thailand, then Germany so I was able to see and sample two other cultures. Courtesy of Uncle Sam. Best yet, I was able to fight off my loneliness and even met my first wife and mother of my child in Germany where she was also serving at the time.

I suppose you can say I became quite self-contained as a person by the time I was discharged by the Army. I even went as far as coming out to my closest friends as a transvestite and my mom when I arrived home. I was successful with my friends who did not care and rejected by mom who wanted to send me to a psychiatrist. We never mentioned my gender issues again until she passed away. Sadly, she never knew (or accepted) she had a daughter instead of a son.

When I entered the time of my life when I finally learned and embraced the idea, I was transgender, I entered an entirely different set of being lonely, primarily because everything in my life was in question including my sexuality. I quickly discovered on the nights I went out to be alone, I was attracting much more female attention than male. Which I loved. I just needed to be careful where I went and who I talked to being a single trans woman alone. After a couple of close calls, I started to take more precautions and became safer.

I finally emerged from my loneliest period of my life, which I call my dark time, with new women friends and even a new wife in my life. Who I am still with to this day.

Sadly, I still carry the scars of my lonely times in my life, and I am still very guarded with others. I have a regular reader by the name of “Georgette” who wrote in and said our transitions never end. I am sure my transition from my lifetime of loneliness will never end either. But as far as the entire transgender community as a whole goes, I know I am fortunate.

Climbing Walls

JJ Hart

 When I transitioned from male to the feminine person I was all along, I hit many walls.

As it turned out, some were short walls and easy to climb, and some were almost insurmountable. The problem quickly became which were which. Very early on, when life was simpler, the act of applying eye makeup initially presented itself as a major hurdle, or wall. Once I conquered that challenge, I was able to move on to bigger and better things. Little did I know, I would be facing bigger walls to climb. A few were so tall I could barely see my dream of living fulltime as a transgender woman at all.

Leaving my safe yet dark gender closet and trying my hand at living as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman in public suddenly presented me with many new walls to climb. Iniitally, there was the omnipresent pressure of presenting properly in public as a woman. To do it, I needed to overcome how my old male self-thought I should look and change it to how my femininized self knew how I had to look to blend in with her cisgender counter parts. Plus, I needed to do it on a regular basis as people were starting to remember me. There were no more changing names to fit a new wig I was wearing. At least I needed to understand that even though strangers knew I was not a cisgender woman, I needed to prove I was a person who was nice to know and got along in the world. Most of all, I was not some sort of a freak, and I needed to remember in the overwhelming number of cases, I was the first and only transgender woman the public had ever met.

The frustrating part of this time of my life came when I was taking a step forward towards climbing another wall, then slid back down when I hit it. I was rapidly losing all the press on nails I bought as I was trying to climb. I seemingly always had problems with moving like a woman. No matter how much I tried, I still ended up moving like a stiff football player in public when I walked into a venue. I worked long and hard to correct the problem and finally succeeded to an extent. Putting femininized self into motion was a problem so large, it was only topped by the communication problems I was having dealing with the public. Basically, I was scared to death of talking to anyone. It was particularly frustrating when I began to talk to other women, who I very much wanted to be friendly with.

On the other hand, men were not a problem at all, since for the most part, they left me alone. The problem was partially solved when I took feminine vocal lessons and the rest with pure practice. Finally, before I came off being unfriendly with other women, I just gave up, relaxed and did the best I could to enjoy and learn from the conversations I was having.

Before I knew it, the walls were coming down and I was gaining the all-important confidence I needed to reach my lifetime dreams of being a woman on my own terms. My terms became rather obvious over time. No major gender surgeries which I thought were too expensive and risky for a person my age of sixty. I would just have to take all my learned experiences out of the closet, put them together and do the best I could.

Another of one of my remaining tallest walls was doing more for my inner self. I solved it by becoming eligible for gender affirming hormones. My initial thought was the changes I would experience would be external, not internal. It turned out, the internal changes were more immediate and far reaching than the external changes. In fact, I can and should write an entire blog post about my changes on HRT. Briefly, I entered an entirely, the new, softer world. Suddenly, I could cry, and my senses improved. Perhaps the biggest one was I was more susceptible to changes in temperature. I learned all those years of thinking women were faking it when they were cold was true. When I was reaching for my coat on a chilly evening.

Certainly, HRT helped to tear down most of the final walls in my gender journey. I say most because I do not think all my walls will ever be totally gone. After all, I have lived most of my life as a man with all the resultant experiences and privilege. No matter what I do what is left of him will still be with me. His former life will always be with me. I just need to learn from him and conquer all the walls he put up in protest.

Pride Month

 

Image from William
Fonteneau on
UnSplash. 

These days, specifically, Pride Month means many different things to many different people.

Of course, the deluge of bigotry set off by the orange Taco felon in chief, has emboldened gender bigots everywhere to come out from under their rocks and attack the LGBTQ community as a whole and the transgender community specifically. If you are still in your closet, the bigotry probably has given you pause to consider where to go next with your gender transition, and should you attend a local Pride celebration at all.

Years ago, when I first began to check out Prides on my own, I was not happy with the number of drag queens I saw who ended up representing the transgender community if they were trying to or not. Then there were the cross dressers teetering around on their painful high heels, just to experience a day out. Overall, I saw precious few transgender women like me.

Fortunately, as the years flew by, my views on Pride began to change too. I began to see more and more trans women in the crowd. All the way to the parade marshal’s being transgender also. To me, it finally meant, we as a group were finally claiming our rightful spot under the LGBTQ umbrella, rather than always being left out in the rain. I finally reached a point where I could attend Pride and have a good time with my lesbian friends.

Bringing this all back into the present, it does not matter much what my prior Pride experiences were, it is how you feel about going today, or this month. Of course, there are safety concerns with so many crazies out and about in today’s world. Sadly, it only takes one to ruin it for the rest of us. Also, my mobility issues have severely limited my ability to go at all. So, I cannot go and be seen without lots of pain. I feel too, I did my part earlier in life so others can today.

It could be a decision to attend Pride these days is as personal as it has ever had been. Around here (Cincinnati), there are Prides every weekend. From very big to very small. All give the LGBTQ community a chance to be themselves and mingle with other like-minded individuals. Through rain and shine, I cannot remember never having a great time. From doing table work with the transgender-cross dresser support group I was a part of to going on gay bar pub crawls with Liz on a bus, we tried to do it all. Then there was the time my lesbian friends and I all got together and made the trip to Columbus, Ohio from Dayton to go the biggest Pride in Ohio. Great times were had by all, and I gained confidence as a transgender woman by trying it.

It should be noted, I did not do all this suddenly, and I needed to work my way up to the fun over the years. It is easy to say, but if I did not look out of my closet door and wonder what it would be like to go to a Pride, and try, I would have missed a big piece of my life as I transitioned into transgender womanhood. On the other hand, going to Pride has become an increasingly personal decision with the country where it is now. I know quite a few readers have expressed to me where they are in their transition and how attempting something like going to Pride would be a big risk. The fun part is, for once, you don’t have to worry about passing because people watching is one of the big sports at Pride. Just find a comfortable seat and enjoy the view.

Whatever decision you should decide to make, just make sure you are safe and comfortable in what you decide. Be prepared to collect loads of information from many LGBTQ friendly organizations. Some of which may help you in the future. In the past, at a Cincinnati Veterans Administration Pride (when they were allowed to have them) a man stopped at our table for information and later almost immediately started their transition. So, you never know.

The only other words of wisdom I have is, wear comfortable shoes! I did not for one year and paid the price. Regardless of the party atmosphere at many Prides, it is a solemn occasion when you consider the month was born out of Stonewall Bar protests in New York City. Basically, the drag queens revolted, and change began. It may take another revolt to do it again. In the meantime, enjoy your Pride month. Even if you are doing it in your closet.

 

 

Redemption

 

Female Impersonator
Kim Christy. 

Redemption is a largely vague term, and I am oversimplifying it for use here, but I do use it to describe the very few humans are ever given the chance to stop our lives and start all over again.

Fortunately, transgender women and transgender men are part of the very few who can put the brakes on their life, stop and then start over. In my life, I was always trying to outrun my gender dysphoria and was usually going too fast to slow down. Let alone stop. Another problem was, when I did slow down enough to look around, I became scared and then sped up again so essentially, I was just chasing my own tail.

As I did, I just eventually learned, I was just where I belonged. On my way to my dream of living full time as a transgender woman. I can not stress enough, how paranoid I was of ever reaching my dream. The massive hurdles of family (spousal approval), friends and jobs always come to mind.

Redemption for me also meant when I transitioned into a feminine world, I needed to do it in a graceful way. I certainly did not want to be one of the mean, frustrated older women I knew in my life. I always thought those women suffered from large amounts of testosterone gained in their lives when their estrogen naturally goes down. I had already suffered from testosterone poisoning through much of my life and never wanted to go back. I was fortunate when I learned my inner feminine woman believed the same ideas I had, and she was very gracious when she was finally released to lead her own life. She had the chance to experience the world in a positive way and did. She was able to get along well as she sought out the guidance, she needed to enter a dark new world and give it light anyway.

Fear turned out to be my powerful motivator and, as difficult as it was, I used it to my advantage. I guess it worked because my world opened in a magical way. I also can’t stress enough how my appearance only was a starting point, and I had to use it only to open very basic doors. Then when I went through those doors, I needed to begin to carve out a real life as a transgender woman. Much of my new life started when I picked up my dog and moved in with my future wife Liz in Cincinnati. My biggest example was when Liz and I began to go to various “Meet Up” groups and I began to meet strangers for the first time in different settings. I went to craft groups, writer’s groups and even a knitting group or two. The bottom line was I was able to build my confidence in my new self, and I highly recommend “Meet Up” groups if any exist in your area.

Through it all, I was prepared for rejection but only really received it once when Liz and I went to a lesbian Valentine’s Dance years long ago. At the dance, I was busy minding my own business when this evil woman comes up to me and started to be very nasty. She kept asking me what my “real” name was. It took a while to rid myself of her bigoted self, but I managed to before Liz came back with appetizers from the serving line. In all the time I had dealing with the lesbian community, this woman was the only gender bigot I ever had to directly deal with. I am/was fortunate.

I feel redemption was not as severe as it could have been. During my life in my male years, I did my best to be kind to others, especially in the LGBTQ community all the way to hiring a transgender waitress at one of the restaurants I managed. Even though she was a natural for the job, when I left, the next manager ended up running her off the job. I also had to deal with bigoted guests in another restaurant I managed when they refused to be waited on by a gay waiter. Instead, I told them to leave. Anytime I could, I tried to pay my experiences forward to a time I would need it.

Another very important set of lessons I learned by working in the food business was how cisgender women navigated their worlds when they were basically under stress. Or, how important it was for the women to form cliques when men formed teams. The importance of being accepted by an alpha female was not lost on me when I transitioned into transgender womanhood.

Speaking of transgender, today is the birthday of my oldest grandchild who also happens to be a trans graduate of The Ohio State University. They are pursuing a career as a civilian in the Navy this fall, so I am very proud! They are a nuclear engineer.

Happy Birthday.

Also, thanks to Susie Jay for writing in and commenting on the blog! It’s good to have you along. I agree with your question about Kim Christy. I had forgotten about them as a female impersonator. It's a term I saw in the Wikipedia reference on Kim. Been awhile since I have used it.  

 

Coming Home

 

JJ Hart (Center) Wife Liz on Left, 
Daughter on Right. 

The process of crossing the gender border from male to female, always felt as if I was coming home.

From the beginning, my dual genders clashed, causing me to often sacrifice my already fragile mental illness when I was diagnosed as being bi-polar. Naturally, it was difficult to separate one issue from another when I became depressed and just wanted to curl up in a ball and left alone. On most occasions, I could just cross dress in front of the mirror and take my mind temporarily off my trip to find my true home.

The trip proved to be much longer than I ever thought it would. I never considered it would take me on a fifty-year odyssey. Complete with too many blind curves and dead ends to mention. If I was to attempt to mention any of the major problems I had with my transition was there would be so many more transitions than one. The gender border crossing was so complex, it would take me several different ways at once. I finally came to the point where I was simply trying to raise the bar of living as a transgender woman every time I went out in public. In my earliest days, it meant concentrating on more than just my feminized appearance. I needed to put my appearance, no matter how good or bad, into motion. What good would it be to look like an attractive woman if I was moving like a linebacker.

Every time I made a move forward in my transition, I could imagine myself living my gender dream. Which in most cases scared me more than anything else. What would my life be like without all the male privilege I worked so hard to earn. Perhaps the only stable idea I learned was I was much more than the casual cross dresser who just wanted to put on a dress for certain occasions. As suspected from my earliest days of admiring myself in the mirror as a girl. I wanted to do much more such as be a girl or at the least find out if the public would accept me as one.

I put many hours of work into my femininized presentation. I tried and tried to get my makeup right, even to the point of losing nearly fifty pounds on a diet I undertook. When I lost weight, I was able to fit into my stylish clothes, so it was a huge win for me. Along with the intense skin care routine I followed. Suddenly, I discovered I could use less make up and prove less was more. All these moves proved coming home indeed may be reality if I kept working hard enough. For the first time in my life, I made a concerted effort to achieve a very real goal. My transgender womanhood.

As I said, coming home involved several other minor and major transitions. I began to do so called womanly duties such as grocery shopping into my days when I could. I also added gift shopping at Christmas (and other times) to my time as a woman. Through it all, I was learning how the world would possibly accept me when I was able to make it home. All these actions showed me the feasibility of proceeding with my gender plans, though many questions remained unanswered.  Such as, what would I do about the basics of my life such as what to do about my wife, extended family, friends and having a basic income to live on.

It was around this time when destiny set in to provide me with major answers in my life. Tragically my second wife passed away, at the age of fifty, along with most all of my very few male friends. As far as family was concerned, my daughter stepped up to be my most steadfast ally, until my third wife Liz stepped into my life. Finally, I learned if I waited a relatively short period of time, I could take an early retirement on Social Security and solve my financial issues. The only loss I sustained was with my brother and his extended family who roundly rejected me. So much for close family ties.

When I made it to my true home, it was like day and night. It was as if a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. My mental health improved with the help of therapy, and I was better able to face my life on a more equal basis than I ever had before. Surprisingly, I had very little re-arranging to do to live in my new house. It seemed my inner female self-had been not so patiently waiting for her chance to take over my life. Once she earned her spot in the public eye, she knew exactly what to do to survive.

 

 

Adjusting to Gender Change

 

Image from Fab Lentz on Unsplash.

Adjustment to gender change was never easy for me.  

Two of the biggest initial problems came when I realized that I had too few feminine characteristics to help me start. Being seen as a so called “normal” male did help me keep the bullies away but provided me no help when I was attempting to cross dress as a girl for the mirror. Plus, all along I knew the problem of looking like a girl was just going to get worse as I grew older and enter puberty. In the worst way, I wanted to add curves to my body and not the masculine angles I was getting. By this time, I was building a secure dark gender closet to protect me from the world, and it saved me many times from being caught.

The other big problem was, I did not know what I was doing when I was trying to femininize myself. I had none of the peer support (or criticism) from the girls around me to aid me in the way I appeared in the public’s eye. My makeup alone I feared made me look like a clown in drag. It took me years of work in the mirror before I had the confidence to go out in public as a cross dresser or novice transgender woman. Which was just beginning to be understood.

I also needed years to develop the courage to even try to go out into the world. Eventually, after quite a bit of failure, I experienced enough success to finally build confidence to build myself to a point I could own who I was. Being true to myself meant entering a room and feeling confident in my identity.  It also meant when I was ridiculously dressed as a teen and was getting laughed at or attracting unwanted attention, I still had to own it until I could make it home and change. From that point forward, I began to seriously adjust my wardrobe and fashion choices to dress to blend in with the other women around me. By doing so, I finally left the male in myself behind. I understood women ran the world in their own way, and to enter, I needed to change my thought pattern about my gender life significantly.

Out went the very short miniskirts and shorts and in came leggings, boots and jeans. I was haunting the thrift stores so often, I thought a few of them were beginning to know me. Ironically, I received pushbacks from others in the cross-dressing community for my fashion choices. Several went out of their way to tell me I could wear pants anytime I wanted as a man, why would I want to wear pants when I was a woman. I came to the point where I responded I did not need clothes to define my transgender womanhood. Or my gender is between my ears, and my sex is between my legs. Plus, it was not as if I was that butch when I dressed as a woman. I normally always wore my heels and makeup with my slacks and blouses when I went out. I did not know it at the time, but I was developing my later life as a femme transgender lesbian.

As stubborn as I always was, I still was insecure in my own way and needed reinforcement in my transgender womanhood. That is when going out to the new venues I had discovered helped me along. Repeating the same movements repeatedly as a trans woman, helped me along towards my goal of living fulltime and I could see the results of my efforts in life very personally in the public’s eye. When I discovered my lifelong dream of living as a woman could be within reach, I needed to go for it.

At that point in time, my battle of genders really set in. To put it mildly. My male self was not ready to give up what remained of his life at the age of sixty. Essentially, he wanted to know if I could afford to make the transition and give up all the white male privilege, he had worked a lifetime to build up. On the other hand, my up-and-coming feminine side was arguing at my age, it was now or never as far as a gender transition was concerned. The hardest part of my gender work was already done.

I had spent the greatest part of fifty years having to adjust to gender change, and I was more than ready to attempt the final jump to start HRT or gender affirming hormones to aid in the process. Your results may vary but, in my case, my entire life was never easy. As I view it now, it was worth the effort to adjust to a gender change.

 

It Never Got Old

 

Key West, Florida on Vacation. 

All the decades I spent of my life on the journey from male to female never became old and boring.

Even though I spent decades to arrive in my transgender womanhood, surprisingly, the trip never got old. Perhaps it was because I was so entrenched in my male existence and could not get out. Certainly, I knew I did not want to receive any participation trophies simply because I was semi successful as a man to place on my imaginary mantel in my mind. I learned quickly where my true learnings were with my gender and my search for truth never was not exciting. I can vividly remember all the times when I first went out shopping as my true self and thought I was accepted as a woman by the clerks I encountered. When, in fact, they were accepting me for my money first.

It did not matter to me at the time because I was scared to death and was just trying to find my way in a new world I had only every dreamed of. So, this was what it was like to shop as a woman? I loved it. I also loved it when I was able to present well enough to relax more and be brave enough to expand my horizons. I began to stop for lunch on my shopping trips so I would have more one on one time with the public at large. Instead of just going to a big bookstore just to browse, I started to stop for a cup of coffee and to use the rest room for the first time in my life as a transgender woman. Through it all, I was surviving and thriving and most importantly, my life suddenly never was old again.

From there, I started to go out at night and discovered a whole new world to be involved with. This was my much-publicized time when I gave up on male gay bars, and began to seek out more venues I could enjoy myself in. The bottom line was, if I was going to be discriminated for being trans in a gay bar, I could find somewhere else to spend my money. When I did find other venues, my life really began to be exciting and new, it never got old being accepted in a new venue which normally featured big cold beers along with big colorful television screens to watch sports on.

From that point forward, life really began to speed up on me. It seemed every night, something new was happening and I was learning the nuances of being able to cross the gender border. I believe I was not convincing anyone I was a cisgender woman but on the other hand, I was a woman with a different background. The distinction became an important one for me to have to succeed in the direction I wanted to go. The direction of course, was the path I was on to leave my closet permanently and join the world as my true self who should have been in control the entire time. Even though the path had plenty of dead ends and sharp curves, following it never got old.

Since my path never got old, I knew I was on the right one for the first time in my life. The new freedom I felt propelled me when I was doubting which direction I should take in my life. The vibe I felt was real and I decided to risk all the materialistic items I had as a male would be risked and could possibly go away. Which meant everything, including spouses, friends, and employment had to change. Naturally, I spent hours, days and even weeks agonizing on what I was going to do.

The fact which kept coming back to me was, I had gone to far down the femininized path I was on to ever go back to the male life I had known. I even realized, I was much more than a cross dresser or a man who liked to look like a woman when he could. Or I was sliding down a very slippery dangerous gender slope towards a very steep cliff and I had no idea of how I would land.

It turned out I had nothing to worry about. With the help of several women friends, I had made along with gender affirming hormones, my landing was surprisingly soft. Even after I did, I still could not relax. Being comfortable with myself as a transgender woman proved not to be an option. The whole process never became old, and I could not live without it.

 

 

The Gender Comfort Zone

Image from Thomas
Vitali on UnSplash.

 It took decades to reach a point where I could say I was comfortable with my gender issues. The point where I could look at myself in the mirror and say I was satisfied with the image I saw.

Before that time, I always just saw my old male face staring back at me. Finally, I glimpsed the beginning of seeing a femininized version of myself. I had hope for the future. The frustrating part was trying to figure out what to do with my new gender life. Up to that point, I felt my gender desires for the most part was unreachable.

Even still. I worked very hard to take myself out of the world of being male and did see glimpses of seeing my authentic feminine self-hiding behind my everyday boring life. Before long, I was spending every spare moment thinking of the next time I could work on my femininized life. Little did I know at that time how long and difficult my gender journey would be. Up to that point, I considered a woman’s life to be mostly tied in with their ability to wear pretty clothes. Along with the seasonal changes to their wardrobes. At the time, my second wife was telling me the truth about pursuing my dream. In other words, a woman’s life was so much more than how you looked.

I found out the hard way, she was correct when I started to enter the world as a transgender woman. I needed to really begin to study the cisgender women around me if I was ever to be successful. I did not know it at the time; she meant learning all the layers of existence women go through in their lives. Such as having the man she was married to (me) go away because he wanted to be a woman. I have the utmost respect for her because she put up with me when she did during our twenty-five-year marriage before she passed away. From a totally unexpected massive heart attack. Tragically, the only unwilling gender mentor I had in my life was suddenly gone.

I ended up making the best of my new life without her and ultimately did find my comfort zone as a transgender woman. The most difficult time in reaching my new zone (as I always point out) was when I was forced to communicate one on one or face to face with another woman. I was so scared to speak I tried not to talk at all. Quickly I learned that idea only portrayed me as being either unfriendly or worse yet, bitchy. No way to make new friends as I found my new comfort zone.

Once I began to arrive totally at my transgender womanhood, I was unbelievably relieved. Even to the point of wondering if I could finally be happy for the first time in my life. Happiness was never a priority in my family, and it took me shedding my old male life to find how it was to be happy.

On occasion, I think I oversimplify the transition process I (or other transgender women or men) go through just to live their lives. Especially, these days when so many roadblocks are thrown up in our lives by the orange hater in the White House. But that is another topic all together, since my views are known.

Wherever you may be in your life of gender transition, don’t despair too far if your closet is dark and locked to the world. You never know when your life can change, and you can achieve your own level of gender comfort. Plus, your level of comfort could be vastly different to mine or anyone else’s. There is no right or wrong when it comes to any of these.

It has also seemed to me; I leased my old male life and was simply looking for my deposit back when I was allowed to finally go behind the gender curtain and cross the border. What the ciswomen gatekeepers did not tell me was I not going to get much of my deposit back I had built up as my old male self. Male privilege was gone, along with any security I had built up. In the end, I was able to give up and sacrifice all I had lost in order to enter the comfort zone I had gained.

 

 

The Inner Girl I Never Knew

 

JJ Hart, Club Diversity, Columbus, Ohio. 

As I was growing up, the girl I saw in the mirror did not seem to be quite real. Mainly because I was still caught in the male world I was born into. It seemed the more I struggled with my reflection, the more depressed I became. It did not seem fair I could not enjoy all the perceived benefits I observed from the girls around me. I say perceived, because it was not until I was able to go behind the gender curtain to see life was not always easier for the women around me.

Life moved on and I discovered always being the pursued by the opposite gender (males) was not often good. The problem was being pursued by the correct male. Not a scary, creepy or toxic one. Another problem I had learning from the females around me was I was so very shy and afraid to talk to any girls at all. So, I watched the dating scene from afar and wondered why I couldn’t be a part of it.

The main problem I had other than being shy was the gender dysphoria I was always suffering from. I was riding a dual edged sword. On one edge, I was struggling to meet the demands of my parents as their oldest son, and on the other hand, was the fact that some days when I woke up, I did not know what gender I wanted to be that day.  Problems I would not have wished upon my worst enemy. Finally, I did the only thing I knew how to do to survive, I went exploring. Or I should say, as I was growing up, I saw the girl looking back and then my transgender side went exploring.

My male self-stayed home as my feminine side attended transvestite – cross dresser mixers searching for answers to my true self. Ironically, the mixers just added more questions than answers. I discovered more layers in the cross-dresser community than I imagined existed. There was everything from male admirers at the party, all the way to impossibly feminine transsexuals I never knew existed. The biggest surprise was that my inner girl was again having a hard time fitting in.

One of the problems was, the transgender term or the knowledge around it had not been widely known at the time. When I finally heard of it, I thought it really described me, and I began to research it more. The tipping point came as I began to explore the public more and more. As I began to experience a new life I only dreamed of, the more natural I felt, and my missing girl was finally freeing herself from the confining world of my closet’s mirror. At that point, my pressure of transgender womanhood began to increase. It was less and less a fun game and became a very serious journey. The real reason why was the trip to my dream was becoming possible and was I going to risk everything my male self-had worked so hard to achieve.  

Nothing turned out to be easy as it seemed as I entered the world as a transgender woman. My focus needed to be dealing with other women on a one-on-one everyday basis. Over a relatively short space of time, I grew into the woman I needed to become to survive. Or my inner girl was growing up into a woman and I needed the gatekeepers to allow me to play in the alpha girls’ sandbox. Very soon, I reached the point of no return, and I had lost most of my past anyhow, so I had nothing to lose. My second wife had passed away along with many of my close male friends, so there was no better time to put my old male self completely in my past.

For the longest time, I never understood what my inner girl was observing and learning from. I found out when she finally had the chance to emerge into the world, she knew what to do. I thought in a small amount of time, she made a major gender adjustment and began to enjoy the dream I had attained. By I, I mean my male self was needed to propel the changes I went through. He provided many of the materialistic necessities I needed such as fashion, hair and makeup to get by. At the least, the entire process was very complex when I put my life into a gender mixer and hoped for the best.

There were plenty of times when I had the opportunity to purge my feminine belongings and return to a male life I never really wanted. When I kept coming back, I finally learned my inner girl was screaming at me to do the right thing. The right thing was to live out the remainder of my life as a transgender woman. Destiny led me to success.