Trans Girl on the "Down Low"

 

Image from Josh Withers
on UnSplash.

According to Wikipedia, down low is basically an African American term for gay cruising of other men. For this post, I am going to use it in another sense.

First of all, I need to take you all back to when I first considered my down low to be as I cheated on my wife. But I was doing it by cheating on her with another woman, which happened to be me. Of course, nothing made what I was doing right but I could not stop doing it as it had a powerful draw on me. Those were the exciting days of leaving the gay bar scene behind me and begin exploring the world of straight bars as well as lesbian venues.

Very soon, my success turned to failure as I began to feel guilty about lying to my wife about what I was doing. I tried my best to rationalize my thoughts because after all, I was having no physical contact with anyone. Male or female so I could not be accused of cheating, but I still was. The reason was, I had made an agreement with her that I could go out in public several days a week. Providing I never left the house cross-dressed. It was a sacred promise she never forgot and one I could not keep once I began to develop a transfeminine life.

Very soon, I felt as if I was still on the down low every time I snuck out of the house dressed as a woman. As I was basically doing as much as possible. The reason was, I was learning so much about the feminine world I had always dreamed about, I could never turn around and go back to my male life.

It was more exciting to stay on the down low until I could figure out what to do about the life I was leading. In fact, I because the more I experienced the new world, the more natural I began to feel as I was able to put the image I always saw in the mirror into motion. In many ways, I began to feel so natural as a transgender woman, it was difficult to ever return to being a man at all. I had to consciously tell myself I still was a part time man when I worked. So much so, I was beginning to be called ma’am when sir would have worked for the occasion. Still, I was secretly overjoyed when it happened.

Sadly, through it all, my marriage really suffered. Mostly because I was and am a very honest person and hated lying to my wife about what was really going on with me. Often, I learned when I lied one small time, I would have to lie more often to make up for it. An example was one year when we took a week for vacation and headed north to try to escape the heat. About two days into the vacation, I became increasingly mean and irritable because I really wanted to be spending my time traveling as a woman. Finally, my poor wife had had enough and asked me what was wrong. I lied again and internalized my feelings enough to get by, and we could eventually enjoy ourselves. Deep down, I hated myself for it.

Life began to finally slow down for me as I reached certain milestones in my transfeminine life. I was beginning to communicate with the world and started to feel much better about myself and at the same time my down low activities slowed down also. At least to a point where I could control them. It was around this time too, when my wife’s health began to really decline. It did not know it then, but she only had approximately six months to live. For some reason, I decided to go on a major purge and throw most of my feminine things away and went all the way to growing my version of a beard. It turned out, I did the best I could for the remainder of her life.

When she passed, of course I was tragically shocked and lonely, so I reached inward. The beard went away quickly, and I was able to restock my clothes and makeup. In no time at all, my inner feminine self was coming to my rescue. I began to retrace my steps I had taken as a novice transgender woman, and reestablished myself fairly quickly in the venues I was a regular in.

I was totally freed from the down low experiences from my past and could concentrate on going out to being alone. In other words, I wanted to be around other people. I just did not want them approaching me.

It worked in the short term until I began to socialize with and started to build a small circle of friends who knew nothing of my previous self. I never had had to go on the down low again.

 

 

There is always One.

 

Event Venue where party was held.

There is always one person who does not know how to or wants to keep their mouth shut around my wife Liz and me.

I am referring to my night of affirmation I referred to in yesterday’s post. Everything got off to a wonderful start as we found the venue a little early and chose a seat in the shade as we enjoyed a pre-dinner drink. Plus, I found my daughter, son-in-law and middle grandchild quite easily. So, I was ready to relax and prepare for a fun filled evening without having to explain myself and my gender choices.

It turned out that I relaxed too soon because after my mother-in-law sat down beside me to once again question my health. Even though I am not very mobile, I have been very fortunate so far to escape any major health problems. That is when things began to get very interesting in the question department. My mother-in-law’s sister promptly sat down in the empty seat beside her and started asking me questions.  That is when the “fun” started.

First, she assumed I was my daughter’s mom, I think.  My assumption of her was she was an older lesbian. It turned out assumptions are like rear ends on people; everyone has one because we were both wrong. I told her I was my daughter’s parent when she said I was her father. Then she could not shut up and waded in further into my personal life. Sitting on the other side of me was my wife Liz and the woman promptly asked Liz if I was her husband. Liz quickly said no, I was her wife. Liz handled it beautifully and the woman moved on, I thought.

By this time, I thought the woman would have learned her lesson and just shut up, but I was wrong. She was one of those people who just can’t leave well enough alone, and it seemed I was the target until she became bored. Obviously, she had no knowledge of our family’s recent history. She was ignorant of the fact that one of the quests of honor last night was also transgender and was there with their partner also.

Then, my first wife showed up and grabbed a seat at the table and I became involved with talking to her. She is the mother of my daughter and will always have that bond, plus she does have some contact with my brother’s wife who rejected me for being transgender so long ago. There was a lot to talk about so I could ignore the woman who probably see she was being ignored by them. But not all the way.

The photographer began to round up the family for pictures after dinner. To start, he asked for the men to gather. My new friend? Looked at me for a second to tell me it was my turn for pictures until I glared at her and did not move. Obviously, she had not learned, and I waited for the photographer to call for the rest of the family to come up for pictures.

Regardless of what she thought, there were pictures taken I should be able to pass along later.

All too soon, Liz and I’s evening at the celebration was over and I did get to see and talk to my transgender grandchild before they take off for their new job in Maine. That was the important part and any dealings I had with anyone else faded away. Hopefully the woman left with a new understanding of the gender spectrum and even better learning how to keep her mouth shut around us. But I doubt it.

The best part is my daughter, and I have pledged to get together more often for breakfast in the future. Without the prying negative comments of an opinionated person who does not know what she is talking about. I don’t think she was a true transphobe, just a person who did not know enough to keep her mouth shut. Obviously, I have had all the right to be called a parent instead of a father and for her to recognize it. Whether or not she ever realizes it, it will be up to her. If she does, I hope I have played a small role in helping to change someone else’s life, who really needed it. I have to say it was difficult not to be negative with her and I was not. Which put me in a transgender educational position I did not anticipate being in. As my affirmation day proved to be much more by helping the public view of transgender population having families and life’s like so many others.

Some people just can’t seem to say no when faced with discussing situations they know nothing about.

 

 

 

 

Affirmation Day

 

Image from Cate Bligh
on UnSplash

A much-needed affirmation day for me is here.

Today is the event I have written so much about. By pure chance, three of my daughter’s family have graduated from various institutions and will celebrate today.  

With a little luck (and planning on my daughter’s part) my transgender grandchild will return from their post-graduation trip walking the Appalachian trail. They graduated with a degree in nuclear engineering from The Ohio State University in the winter and immediately landed a job with the Navy as a civilian in Maine. They and theirs are their chosen pronouns.

Not to be outdone, my son in law is receiving his MBA this summer and my youngest grandson is graduating from high school. A group of overachievers to be sure!

This is where my affirmation comes in. The entire event is a safe space for me to go to where I can recharge my gender batteries for the future. Plus, my best ally, my wife Liz, will be by my side.

To be on the safe side, I have been planning ahead for months on what I am going to wear. I am aiming to be dressy and feminine without going overboard since I don’t know much about the venue.

I chose my favorite lacy feminine top and am pairing them with comfortable leggings and shoes since I don’t know how far I will have to walk. As always, I don’t want to stand out, I want to blend in. Sometimes, there are pictures taken, so if I get one, I will pass it along.

Past that, I have been able to do much of my pre-body preparation in advance, so today all I need to do is a close shave, makeup and hair to get ready. We have a reasonable drive to go north to Dayton, Ohio from Cincinnati to arrive at the venue.

As we go and I get my gender batteries recharged, I will let you know what happens.  

You Said What?

 

Image from Thomas Park
on UnSplash.

When your life is made up of a series of no, you can’t do that, you tend to find the nearest rock and crawl under it.

In my case, that no sent me into a deep dark gender closet I hid in for years. I even sought refuge behind the dresses and makeup I was wearing. Afterall, girls did not have to face the same challenges I was facing. I was too naïve to think the girls had separate gender challenges of their own to conquer.  It wasn’t until much later in life when I learned the truth from the women I was around about their life.

The word “no” ended up serving two purposes with me in my life. I found out relatively early that the people telling me no had any real control over me. An example was when I earned a spot-on American Forces Radio and Television when I was going into the Army during the Vietnam War. Being slotted into AFRTS was extremely rare and difficult to do and I did it with help from my congressman (back when they did anything). I learned there were ways around no if you were able to find them. I served my military duty but, in a manner, I wanted to.

My gender life was another subject altogether. I was still struggling and had a huge NO above my head for years. With a largely unsupportive family and no means to support myself as a transfeminine woman, I did not know what to do except to keep treading water and hope I did not sink. Plus, I had no money or insurance to cover any expenses incurred with gender surgeries of any sort. I was on my own and had to internalize my feelings.

Again, I found I could find my way around totally internalizing my feelings by attending local transgender-crossdresser parties where I could learn from others. In the meantime, I was doing my best to survive in a male world where I was becoming successful in. In other words, the rock I was under had more inhabitants than ever before but just as dark for me. Then I found a way to put electric light under my rock or in my closet. It was when I forced myself out into the world which was very unforgiving for years until I gained my footing and on a very slippery gender surface. It seemed my new high heels were more difficult to walk in than I ever imagined.

More than ever before, it was during this time, my gender tables began to turn for me. I was climbing a major mountain and still did not know how steep it was going to be. On the nights I was rejected by the public, I needed to go home and resolve myself to never take no for an answer. Somehow, someway I was doing something wrong and if I corrected it I could survive as a transgender woman. That was when I improved my fashion and makeup, along with losing nearly fifty pounds. All the improvements to my feminine presentation along with having the chance to communicate one on one with cisgender women I met, helped me to ignore the no button and keep moving up my gender path. I even was internalizing less.

Through it all, I need to point out, most of my progress towards being a transfeminine woman was not easy and hard earned. There were still too many, one step forward and two steps back moments to mention. At times, it seemed I was destined to learn everything a cisgender woman knew about life before I would be allowed behind the gender curtain and be invited to girls’ night outs etc. The only regret I ever had was never being invited to a bridal shower or bachelorette party. But it never happened.

Since I often learned the hard way what no meant to me in my life, I sometimes feel as if I am the worst person in the world to be writing about it. Sometimes no does mean no when you find yourself in a dangerous situation and you don’t have your old male personal safety privilege to fall back on. You must take the good with the bad when you are a transgender woman. Especially today with the current anti-transgender political climate. The republicans are not letting up at all with their gender lies, at least here in Ohio where I live and it is disgusting.

The more I see of their lies, the more I am resolved to never say I give up and keep on fighting for the truth. A big NO to the gender bigots.

 

 

Emerging as Your True Self

 

Image from JC Gellidon 
on UnSplash. 

Emerging as your true self after a lifelong gender struggle is often very difficult.

It starts very early in life when you discover you are in the wrong place at the right time, or the right place at the wrong time. Whatever the case, your struggle to find yourself begins. In my case I began with explorations into my mom’s clothing which lasted until I could no longer fit into any of her clothes. If you had suggested to me my final emergence into the world would take as long as it did, I would not have believed you. It was a long journey until I finally took the transition step to live as a full-time transfeminine person at the age of sixty.

Some of you may ask why I waited so long or since I did, why couldn’t I just wait for it a little longer into my senior years. On the other hand, I felt if I did not do it then, I would never have the chance. So, I pulled the plug on my old male life and emerged new as a transgender woman. It was never easy, but I made it.

Others may ask why I never opted for any gender surgeries of any sort. I did not because I was on the borderline to being able to present well enough as a woman to get by and I did not have the insurance or the finances to do it. Plus, I was superstitious about having any operations on my body since to this day the only surgery I have ever done was getting my tonsils taken out. I decided to set my gender dysphoria aside and work with what I had or pass out of sheer willpower as a transgender woman friend once told me.

I can’t tell you how many times my willpower was challenged before I made it to the point of emergence in the world. The seemingly endless times I was sent home in tears when my cross-dressing plans went wrong. Fortunately, I was stubborn and kept on moving towards my dream of possibly living fulltime as a woman. I replaced my willpower with confidence since in most cases, I was following my path in the most difficult way possible, without the help of any facial feminization surgeries. For the most part, makeup art was my way around having no expensive, painful operations until I could begin gender affirming hormones.

For me, the hormones worked miracles inside and out. Outwardly, my skin softened along with my facial angles of manhood, and I could use less makeup. Also, on the plus side, my hair grew quickly and fully since I inherited no male pattern baldness which made wearing any sort of a wig a thing of the past for me. What really changed was my overall view of the world. Suddenly, my view softened as my senses heightened. I felt emotions such as I had never felt before, and I learned how women complained they were always cold (except during menopause) because I was in my second puberty and cold all the time.

During this time, emergence became a slippery slide for me. The HRT hormones were quickly making it impossible to go back to my male life because I did not want to. Why would I want to trade in all the work I put in to travel my long gender path for anything? I finally gave up on all the resistance I was putting into retaining any of a life as a male I never really wanted. The only remaining reason turned out to be me losing all the white male privileges I had worked so hard to gain. For that reason, I put off emerging and attempted to briefly live a portion of my life in both binary genders. Something I would strongly suggest not doing. For me, trying it wrecked my mental health and nearly my life. My male side was hanging on and very materialistic while my female side was discovering a magical life is the best way I can describe it. Afterall, I could see my best-case dream life within reach.

Through it all, I think being approved by a doctor for gender affirming hormones was the biggest moment of my emergence as a fulltime transgender woman. With the help, I was able to carve out a new life and put the old one aside. I was able to see a new world with the help of new friends who never knew the old me. The essence of emergence when someone else could enjoy the company of my new feminine self. HRT was just a kick start to make it to where I wanted to be. I needed to take it from there and make my emergence complete.

 

 

 

The Second Act

 

JJ Hart doing Trans Wellness Outreach. 

Will the second act of life be better and more successful than the first? How many people even get a second chance?

That is the question I needed to answer when I finally shed my male life and entered a transfeminine existence. Since I did it at the age of sixty, I have had plenty of ground to catch up with. Many times, it seemed I never would. My internal gender clock was moving one step forward and two steps back as I attempted to transition. I had times when the picture was clear in my mind, and I was able to put it into motion. Such as the night I took myself out to see a major Christmas light display in a nearby village and was warmly accepted in my soft bulky sweater, leggings and boots. Then, as I rode the wave of gender dysphoria, I would do something wrong such as how I was moving. I am fond of saying, I looked like a linebacker in drag.

The problem was, if I relaxed at all going into the second act of my life, I had the tendency to fall back into old habits. I was learning the hard way over and over, to take nothing for granted in my new life. Many times, I tried and failed not to be too hard on myself since I was making up for a first act in my life which lasted so long, and I had to concentrate so much on it just to survive. It was around this time when my male self really began to set up roadblocks on my gender path. Suddenly, he began to see that this road I was on was not a phase or joke and I was deadly serious.  He started to ask questions such as how I was going to live in my second act with no job and how I was prepared to do it without the wife I dearly loved and had been married to for nearly twenty-five years. To be sure, all very real and very scary questions.

I put off deciding my life as long as I could as I attempted to learn if I could really live a transfeminine life at all. Were the obstacles insurmountable or not. Through it all, the one overriding feeling which kept me searching was the deep down feeling I was doing the right thing. I was headed in the direction I should have been going in my life all along and I kept going through the ups and downs of transitioning into my second act.

Once it was clear I was successfully transitioning into my second act, I needed to make sure I was doing it correctly. It turned out I had all the help I needed. In addition to the cisgender women I always mention, there was one important person I don’t mention enough. That person turned out to be very real and important to me. She was my inner feminine person who had been waiting for all those years and decades for her chance to fully come out into the world. Once she finally did, she knew completely what to do and what was ahead for my second act of my life. Mainly, all the nuances of life as a woman if I really wanted to go there. She knew the best part of my life was yet to come.

More importantly, I had finally made it through the bleak years when often I thought there would be no tomorrow. Or at least my dream of living a feminine life would never be realized. Often it set off a series of insecurities in myself which set back my life. Act one was bleeding because I could not get to act two.

When I finally made it to my second act, it was as if I had lifted a heavy weight off my shoulders, and I came to a point where I needed to be more understanding and approachable in the world. I could not get away with the old male ways of internalizing my feelings and start living again. If I did try to hide as a transgender woman, I would never have a chance to provide myself with a positive outlook to other women and not come off as an unfriendly transfeminine woman which was the last thing I wanted or was.

Since I was one of the few humans who ever had the chance to stop their life and begin again so there was no way I could mess it up. I needed to enjoy life and live it the best I could.  

Being Your Mother's Daughter

 

Image from Bence Halmosi
on UnSplash. 

What if your dream came true and you could have started your life as your mother’s daughter?

How would life really have been if it could have shared that special mother/daughter bond we can only see from afar.

As I changed my Estradiol patches this morning, I stopped to think how my mom and I would have gotten along if my gender world had been different. I know for sure; everything would not have been so rosy if I was living my dream. I remember vividly being able to sit back and watch mom expertly apply her makeup before she went out in public. Which her generation always did. I wonder now when she would have let me start experimenting with makeup if I was her daughter. I think now, I was wearing makeup before she would allow me to if I was in the feminine world I so dearly wanted to be in. I was also fairly sure I was shaving my legs sooner than she would have allowed.

The reason was, she probably never understood having a son who was really her daughter was all about. If I was her daughter, the pressure would have been on to conform to her ideas and rules. We were so much alike to begin with I am sure we would have fought continually. The gender grass always looked greener from the other side as I grew up. Especially when it came to the world of fashion. I had always admired the clothes girls around me were able to wear when I was stuck in the same old clothes.

It was not until much later in life when I started to really learn of the fashion problems my second and third wives had with their moms, did I begin to understand what they were going through. For example, my second wife told me several times about how she snuck out of the house with her skirt at one length (for parent approval) then when she was out of sight, she rolled it up to make it a forbidden mini skirt and supposedly mom never found out. On a more cruel side, my third wife Liz’s mom constantly harassed her about her weight. I can’t imagine how bad that made her feel. The closest I could come was if my parents ever berated me over a bad athletic play I made. Which they never did.

Overall, I wonder if any bond mom and I would have ever come up with would have been one existing of competition. I am sure my female self would have been struggling as much as my male self to gain any respect at home. All the way to the college I was going to attend. Mom was a graduate of an upscale public university in Ohio as well as being an active alum of one of their sororities. I am sure she would have pushed me (as her daughter) to follow in her footsteps, which would have been another problem.

I wonder if at any point in time, my dream of growing up as my mom’s daughter would have turned into a nightmare. Although, nightmare might be too strong of a term. Better yet, a struggle would have been better to use because both genders have their problems if they are over able to arrive at adulthood and claim the title of women and men. As I said, being a transfeminine person always seemed to be the best way to exist (for me) in life. I would never need to worry about being shipped to fight in Vietnam or summoning my courage to ask a girl out, among other things. On the other hand, I never had the opportunity to be asked out if I was a girl. Certainly, there was a positive give and take to both genders, but I was only seeing the good.

Would mom have taught me the basics of makeup? Or would I have learned it from girlfriends at weekly sleepovers. I am slightly biased, but I think I would have learned from my female peer group more than mom. Having never had the chance to learn, I will never know and since mom rejected any sort of discussion on my transfeminine life, there never will be any way to find out. She passed years ago.

It wasn’t until years later did, I have the chance to learn what I missed or didn’t when I grew up male. It finally took a group of women took me through the process of being a woman. In essence making up for what my mom missed doing. I inherited her stubbornness to do what was right and her ability to keep going until she arrived where she wanted to be. It would have been interesting if she had ever accepted the fact she had a daughter, not a son.

 

 

What a Rush!!!

 

Vintage Transvestia Magazine

I encountered a real problem when my cross-dressing urges went from being a real adrenaline rush, all the way down to what I experience now.

I do remember the process did not take so long for me and I should have known then my cross-dressing activities were much more than a harmless innocent hobby I was involved with. If I had the information available to me then which became available later, I would have had an idea I was transgender. Of course, back in those days, the internet had not been invented along with all the social media rooms which came with it. I was in the dark ages of information and was very sure I was alone in the world with my gender desires. I always give credit to “Virginia Prince” and Transvestia Magazine for initially opening my closet door and showing me there were others in the world called transsexuals and transvestites.

During times of depression with my life, I could always fall back to my well-worn issues of Transvestia to lift my spirits. Plus, I discovered groups hosted transvestite mixers in Ohio I could attend with the proper preparation. I was ecstatic! I finally had a chance to meet others like me. Little did I know, I did not get that completely right, but that is another story all together.

In the meantime, I read my brief moments of adrenaline rushes were really called gender euphoria. Regardless of the label, I still had a difficult time controlling mine. Most of my examples come from the time my wife and I moved to the New York City metro area. For some reason, she left me out on my own one night to go to a mixer out on Long Island. Much to my surprise, I had a difficult time being admitted to the mixer by two cisgender women running the door. I asked why I was not being allowed in and they said no real women were allowed and I needed to show them an identification card with a male picture on it to get in. I was shocked and promptly showed them my old male drivers license and had a great time…until the buzz wore off days later. Then, I became mean and difficult to live with because I was feeling sorry for myself because I felt increasingly sure of myself as a transfeminine woman.

About that time, Halloween rolled around again which gave me an excuse to leave my closet and explore the world as a trans woman. This Halloween, I was getting better at “costuming” to present well as a woman and not to thrill as a cross dresser. Again, I was able to be out on my own because my wife was not a fan of Halloween and by pure chance, I ended up in the middle of a group of cisgender women all as tall as I was and dressed about the same way. Again, I had a great time and was even asked to dance by a man who I wondered knew about me.

All I knew was gender euphoria was great, until I crashed and burned. Then I always slipped back into my usual gender dysphoria problems. It seemed I needed the constant reassurance of me being able to present well as a transfeminine woman just to get by. Which was no way to live.

In order to live, I needed to make difficult life changing choices such as exploring the world increasingly as a feminine transgender person. I needed to weigh the difficulty in what I was doing with my life with what would happen if I was discovered. To accomplish my dream, I began to make small mini “bucket lists” of things I needed to do, most to just see if I could and increase my gender euphoria or adrenalin rush. Surprisingly, very quickly again my bucket lists did not provide much euphoria but in their place, a deep sense of stability in my life. For the first time in my life, I even felt I could be happy as a person. Whatever I was doing as a transfeminine woman, I was doing it right. Or so I thought.

Naturally I was afraid to make the final move to sever all ties with my male self. I found myself wasting precious time as I was able to expand my own new world as a woman of my own making. I had successfully gone through transitions from innocent cross dresser, all the way to full time transgender woman with bumps and bruises I had earned along the way. But I learned from them and moved on to a better life. If I only lived once, I wanted to live what was left as a woman.

Sure, my initial doses of adrenaline did help until everyday life came in and rescued me. Now I have smoothed out my life with fewer peaks and valleys of euphoria and when I do experience the negative gender dysphoria, I am able to live with it much better.

 

 

 

It is Just a Phase?

Image from Claudia Love on UnSplash.

Have you ever been accused of just going through a phase?

Drawing from several comments from other transgender women and trans men, including myself, I have heard us being accused of just going through a phase when it comes to being transgender.

There was a time in my life when I seriously hoped I was just going through a phase when it came to my love of dressing in feminine clothing and makeup. I wanted it to be just an innocent hobby I could put down and walk away from at any time. As years went by, I found I couldn’t replace my so-called hobby with anything else in my life. I did the worse possible thing, I tried to internalize my feelings hoping I could somehow ignore them, and the phase would go away. Of course, it never did.

I always thought my mom knew I was trying on her clothes and putting on her makeup but never said anything because she thought I was going through a phase. Obviously, she was wrong! She never had the courage to call me out on what I was doing until I brought it up to her in a very ill-fated attempt to come out when I was discharged from the Army many years later. She quickly rejected my attempt to clear the air by volunteering psychiatric care. Of course, I refused her offer because I knew I was not mentally ill. I just wanted to live a transfeminine life on my terms. We never mentioned it again for the rest of her life but at least I tried to explain my deepest secret to her.

The phase idea came to be one idea I always ran from. I did not feel deep down my feelings were a phase but still was afraid to face the truth. I ended up moving many times and trying many new jobs just to try to outrun my gender feelings. It all was exhausting to my already fragile mental health. In fact, my initial gender therapist diagnosed me as being bi-polar when all along I thought I was just terribly depressed when I never thought I could achieve my dream of living as a full-time transgender woman. I was depressed when I considered the extreme distance I still had to travel, just not as bad.

As I still managed to progress along my gender pathway, I still encountered phases I needed to go through. The major one was what I called my teen girl dressing years. As I survived my urge to stuff my oversize male body into skimpy fashions, I was quickly laughed back into my closet several times before I learned the proper way to attempt to blend in with what other women my age were wearing. Easily, it was the most difficult phase I needed to deal with. Mainly because I was so stubborn.

It turned out the stubbornness I possessed was just what I needed to keep going. Deep down I knew I was in the middle of one of the most complex journeys a human can take, and I could be successful if I tried hard enough. It all meant I needed to earn my way through the feminine gatekeepers I faced to be allowed to play in their sandbox.  I was petrified when I needed to actually begin to talk one on one with other women. Very early on, I was frightened of their reaction when they learned I was not a cis-gendered woman. This was before I learned my path to womanhood was as valid as theirs. I just came to mine along a different path. Amazingly to me, the doors were opened to me, and I was permitted to play behind the gender curtain.

It was around this time when I began one of the most powerful phases of my life, when I made the correct decision to begin gender affirming hormones, or HRT. I say powerful because the new hormones I was prescribed by a doctor turned out to be everything I dreamed of and more. If anything, else, the hormones proved my whole life was not a phase. Now I felt as if I was arriving home in the deepest sense. If you compared my hormonal life as a circle, I was completing mine. The effects of HRT made me feel whole as a transfeminine woman. I could feel deeper, be more emotional and enjoy the world as never before.

I proved, more than ever before, my life was not a phase, I was much more than just a man putting on a dress. I proved all along I was a woman putting on a male face and clothes all along. At the least, I could rest easily knowing what my gender issue was all along. Not a phase but my life.