Playing the Short Gender Game

 

Image from Jayson Hindrichsen
on UnSplash.

During my life, I always have taken the easy way out and thought about important things such as my gender as a short-term issue.

I write often of my love for the mirror when I was young. I hated seeing my male self-reflected back at me but completely enjoyed it when the mirror came to life and I was cross dressed as a pretty girl. Perhaps it was then that I started to think of my life as a short-term basis. Would I eventually outgrow my desire to be a girl when I became older, or if I did not, what would happen to me then. To make matters worse, the Vietnam War was ramping up and I had the constant threat of military duty to think of. Normally when I did, and the coast was clear, I ran back to the mirror and escaped behind a dress and makeup.

As I wrote about yesterday on Veterans’ Day, military duty finally caught up to me when my draft lottery number was fifty-two, so all the short-term thinking and worrying I did was a waste of time. I was going to have to put all my love of being feminine behind me and survive the best I could. It turned out that all the worrying I did about my gender issues and sexuality was wasted too. As I stayed very short-term in my cross-dress thinking, destiny took over in my life, and I started to do more and more in the world to express my new feminine self. Even though I found myself living on the edge more than once, I learned to live there until the next challenge came along. These were the years of changing jobs and moving my family way too much.

As I frenetically moved through life, I was moving too fast to slow down and see what the real issue was. It was gender, and sooner or later I would have to deal with it one on one. Until I did, I would be living a lie and a very messy one at that. Out of the one transgender woman I personally know who told me she was never gender dysphoric, I would guess she would tell me also that she never encountered any messy moments in her life when she transitioned. If she did not, she is one of the few that I know who didn’t.

Many of my messy moments stemmed from me being selfish and wanting to maintain my twenty-five years of marriage to a woman I really loved when she was against me going any further as a transgender woman and starting gender affirming hormones or HRT. By attempting to have it all in my life, my mental health suffered, and I made many mistakes as I tried indirectly to out myself to the world. The biggest one was when I insisted on going into my own restaurant dressed as a woman and being immediately recognized which I could have been fired for.

By this time, I was in a downward spiral which I could see no way out of. It all led me to a suicide attempt and more dissatisfaction with life. Through it all, I had a little voice within me saying everything would be OK someday if I just followed my transfeminine instincts. But before I did, I was stubborn and had a lot of life yet to live. Just when I thought I could not go any lower, I did. I lost my wife and three out of the only four male friends I had to death. Which sent me even lower into depression. I was at a point the experts say with drug addicts who must hit bottom before they can start the path upward. Just change the wording to my male self was at the bottom of his journey and it was time to give my inner female a chance to live. Because, at this time, there was no longer time for short term solutions, my male self just had to be done.

Fortunately, I was able to salvage all the years of practice and learning I put into my femininizing projects and did not have to start from scratch when it came to working on my presentation as a transgender woman. I could look at the long-term benefits of my male to female gender transition. It was such a relief to be able to finally change my thought processes around and not play the short-term gender game at all.

United States Veteran's Day 2025

 

Female Service Person
from UnSplash.

Today is Veteran’s Day in the United States. The day we salute our numerous numbers of military veterans who served and serve our country. Especially those who made the ultimate sacrifice with their life.

As most of you know, I am a veteran myself and survivor of the Vietnam War conflict. Plus, I know I have plenty of other veterans who read and respond to the blog. To all of you, I would like to thank you for your service to our country.

In all my Veteran’s Day posts, I always make it a special point to mention all of those who were serving as they were in the closet or questioning their own gender issues when they lost their lives. It is suspected that there is a higher percentage of transgender people who try to serve but can’t or just hide it and go deep into their closets. I can’t imagine what that would feel like.

In my case, I have a couple of different positives which came from my time in the Army. First, infantry basic training taught me how to have a deeper respect for myself and the pressure I could endure. Secondly, I was able to travel the world on the military dime and learn how other cultures lived. Thirdly, I was able to come out of my gender closet for the first time and admit to close friends I was a transvestite after a Halloween party I went to as a woman. And perhaps the most important positive I gained from my time in the military was the chance I had to meet my first wife who was in the “Woman’s Army Corps” in Germany. She went on to be the mother of my only child (my daughter) who turned out to be one of my huge support systems in the future, and now. The gift that has kept on giving from the Army.

While I am on the topic of gifts, my continuing use of the Veteran’s Administration health care system has been a tremendous help in my life. It initially came at a time when I was financially broke and could not afford to buy my depression medications and gave me life giving hope especially when I sought out hormone replacement therapy and mental health help. So, as you can tell, I have been repaid many times for the service I gave to the country.

I am but one example of what is possible for veterans, but the fact remains that too many veterans young and old are suffering from PTSD or are homeless on the streets. If our country can afford to fight wars, it can afford to take care of those who fight them.

On this Veterans Day, please pause for a second and remember (or more importantly thank) those around you who have served our country or who are serving.

Tired of Looking Over my Shoulder

 

Christopher Morley
1974 movie
Freebie and the Bean.

In a continuation of yesterday’s post in many ways, today’s post is about how I grew weary of looking over my shoulder as a transgender woman.

Looking back, all I can remember from the earliest days I had cross-dressing in front of the mirror were the all too brief moments of gender euphoria I experienced and the all too numerous times I spent looking over my shoulder to see if anyone was going to catch me. Then life as I knew it would be ruined. To stop this from happening, I became very good at hiding my clothes and makeup away from the prying eyes of my slightly younger brother and the rest of my family. I even resorted to hiding a small amount of clothes, makeup and a mirror in a trash bag in a hollowed-out tree in the woods next to our house in the country. Even with all of this hiding, I still found myself spending a lot of time looking over my shoulder.

Somehow, I thought when I grew older, I would conquer all my gender issues, and they would magically disappear, but they just grew with me. The better I became applying makeup and selecting feminine clothes, the more I wanted to do. Like a dog chasing its tail, the more success I had led me to want to do more in the public’s eye. Sadly, as I grew into my high school and precollege years, I was still stuck in the same old routine of dressing at home, hiding from my family and looking over my shoulder. The only relief I remember was the night friends and I went to a high school carnival and one of the male students was parading around dressed as a pretty girl. I was fascinated but again was looking over my shoulder to make sure none of my friends noticed how interested I was.

Which was exactly how I felt when I saw the movie “Freebie and the Bean” in 1974. I did not know it or had never heard of actor “Christopher Morley” who was an accomplished female impersonator. He had a part in the movie which I found amazing because he was so believable as a woman. As with the student cross dressed as a pretty girl, when I saw Morley, I needed to look over my shoulder at my friends to see if they noticed my newfound interest in the film we were watching. I guess I was pretty good at hiding my interest because nobody ever said anything about it.

Moving forward, there were the early cross-dressing days when I was still trying to perfect my everyday presentation as a transgender woman. I constantly worried about someone sneaking up behind me and pulling off my ill-fitting wig. What would I do then? Put it back on or just pick the wig up and run out the door. Fortunately, I never had to find out when I figured it was my inner female paranoia talking to me that I was not looking good enough to pass her standards yet.

By this time, looking over my shoulder became a habit. There was a time when my second wife and I moved to a small town in southern Ohio to run a new restaurant there. In order to suppress all my cross-dressing desires, I started to do the grocery shopping as a woman then go ahead and do a little lite shopping for myself. One day when I was blissfully doing my thing as a transfeminine person, I unexpectedly ran straight into my wife’s boss doing his errands. As bad luck would have it, my wife and I were invited that weekend to a small party at her boss’s house and I needed to really look over my shoulder when I heard him mention to my wife about the “big woman” he had seen in a store. Rightfully so, I was always guilty until proven innocent with my wife and she turned directly to stare the look of death at me. It took me weeks of denial to finally live it down.

Denial, lying and other mistruths became a way of life for me with my wife before she passed away after twenty-five years of marriage. The only thing I am proud of is that I did manage a full out purge six months before she died. To prevent any backsliding, I even grew a beard. Needless to say, I was miserable during this time but nothing like I was going to live through later.

After all the tragedy I went through during this time, I finally had enough of looking over my shoulder for decades and decided to follow my instincts and come out to the world as a transgender woman. Not spending all that time and effort was completely refreshing and allowed me to totally concentrate on my new life as a trans woman.

 

It is Right When you Know it Is

 

Image from Caroline Herman
on UnSplash.

Some have asked me over the years, when did I know it was the right time for me to leave my closet and emerge into the world as a transgender woman. It is a complex question with a very easy answer. I always knew I was having problems with my gender but did not have a clue for years what to do about it.

The only relief I had was the brief time I had to rapidly cross dress in front of the mirror, away from my family and friends. Even when I was able to accomplish my goal of looking like a pretty girl, I still was aware deep down that something was not right with my life. In my own way, I set out to find any gender solutions I could, on my own, with no available sources to aid me. Plus, at the time, my male self was rapidly settling into a relatively successful life, and he wanted nothing to do giving up any of it to my inner feminine self. It turned out, this would be a battle I would have had to face for decades of my life to come. I would spend any available free time I had as a cross dresser, only to have what I learned rejected when I went back to my male life.

The only thing which kept me going was the deep idea I had that what I was doing was actually the natural part of my existence. And the parttime male life was an act. The act which became so good over the years that I shocked a number of people I knew when I finally came out as a transgender woman. I always had assumed they had thought something was up with me when they saw me at Halloween parties dressed as a woman but never did. It was like my male self-tried to dig a deep hole to bury my female self was never quite successful as she kept digging herself out.

The years at that point seem to fly by with the continuing fights with my second wife over considering if I was transgender at all and at the same time, me improving my transfeminine presentation during the times I was out in the public’s eye. I started to do more than just walk around in malls to see if I could present well and started to accomplish small tasks such as doing part of the family grocery shopping as a woman. I found I could do the tasks, and my life began to feel so natural again. The opposite of when I needed to go back to living as a man. It seemed unfair to me when my wife and my male self-ganged up on me to protect their interests in the relationship and I did not know what to do because I was just doing what was becoming more natural to me.

All the infighting only did one thing and that was prolonging the truth from coming out. I had always been destined to be feminine and when the time was right, I would be able to claim my birthright. The longer I lived as a transgender woman among ciswomen I knew I was in the right spot and had to face the facts about myself. My wife unexpectedly passed away from a massive heart attack leaving only my male self to protest any idea of me being trans and starting the HRT medical treatment. Under a doctor’s care of course.

Finally, when faced with the reality of my future life, my male self-gave in to my inner feminine self who had waited so long to live and prosper. More importantly, I was tired of all the internal fighting and knew I had readied myself to make a choice. All the frustrating years of playing with makeup and clothes came back to help me. I did not have to worry so much about my presentation when I made the decision to permanently be in the public’s eye as a transgender woman. I found a great majority of the world either didn’t pay any attention or were just curious of me which was a great surprise. I could relax and enjoy the wonderful new world I had always dreamed of.

When I finally stopped the gender in-fighting I suffered through all those years, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders at the age of sixty. Why I waited so long to face my true self in the mirror and decide to do the right thing will forever be a mystery to me. My only excuse is, I just knew the time was right.

 

The Transgender Fear Factor

 

Image from Darius Bashar
on UnSplash

Even though my transgender fear factor is a relatively dramatic term, it was very real to me.

So much so, I used to walk clear across malls to avoid groups of teen aged girls who in the past treated me with scorn. Finally, I had enough and decided to zero in on what my presentation problems were. When I did, I was able to blend in with other ciswomen I was around and only then did I begin to really address my fears.

Before I did though, I needed to define exactly what transgender fear meant to me. The problem was I could not go to an internet site and read about someone else’s definition of fear could be. I was on my own to decide. To figure it out, the only way I could was to test my new life out in person. At that time, I was used to going to gay venues because of their relatively safe spaces and was afraid to leave the venues and see if I could be successful in so called straight venues where I knew I would like the atmosphere.

Then, my biggest issue was being pulled aside in one of these new venues and being physically assaulted. Ironically, the only place I ever was in any kind of danger was outside of a gay bar I went to a lot. I paid my way out of the danger with my last five-dollar bill. The two men who stopped me took the five and let me on my way. I learned my lesson and never went back there again.

Fear as a transgender woman and fear as a man was obviously different. I was stripped of all my former male privileges. Most importantly, out of all of them the privilege of personal security proved to be the most dramatic change I needed to face. All my life as a man, I was fairly good size and was able to bluster and bluff my way out of any difficult situation I ran into, plus I was always the protector for the ciswomen around me. All of a sudden, I was put into a world of who was going to protect me.

What I learned from my fear factor was what all ciswomen learned from situations early in life. Plan ahead for potentially negative situations is the best way to have very little happen to you. Such as staying out of dark or dimly lit parking lots and go out with other women friends whenever possible. When I did learn my new limitations, I felt better about my new life in the world as a transfeminine person.

Dealing with fear factor with me also was involved in the amount of male baggage I needed to lose to survive. Since I took until the age of sixty to finally completely transition into a cisgender world, I had plenty of baggage to get rid of. What I managed to keep was my life-long love of sports. I discovered I could go to the big sports bars I was fond to going to as a man and watch my favorite teams play, something I could not do in the gay venues I was going to. When I did begin to be accepted as a regular in the big venues, I began to notice the other women around me who were also into sports. Which made my life easier. I began to be more confident, friendly, and overall, more fun to be around.

Predictably, when my sports baggage stayed, many other parts of my life had to go. I was fortunate that I had retained a relationship with my only child, my daughter. On the other hand, I lost all contact with my only brother’s side of the family. We had not talked in over a decade ago when I came out to him right before Thanksgiving and my invitation to the family dinner was revoked. In the long term, I never missed any interactions with my brother and ended up cherishing my time with my daughter. So, putting my fear of rejection proved to be unfounded and I won the battle.

It was never easy for me to put my transgender fears behind me as I transitioned from a male to female dominated world. Mainly because I did not realize all the rules which would change in the world when I aggressively pursued my transgender dreams. Some of my changes came seamlessly, when others came with big obstacles. An example is I was always a basically shy person as a man, which was easy to lose, when I started to live as a woman in a cisgender world. It was worth it to battle and win my wars with transgender fears.

 

I "Doesn't" Know It

 It used to be when I was asked why I preferred to be feminine over masculine, and I quoted a famous baseball announcer for the Cincinnati Reds and said, “I doesn’t know it.” At the time and continuing to this day, I can’t tell you why I identify as a transgender woman. I am just being me.

The problems began when I began my gender path and ran head-on into many obstacles I needed to conquer. I suppose it all started with the possibility my mom was treated with the DES medication to help with problem pregnancies. This was back in 1949, and she had suffered through three still births before I came along. Even though nothing was ever proven, DES flooded the uterus with the estrogen hormone in women and was suspected of causing gender issues later in life with the children under the treatment. Naturally, if I had my choice of being transgender and being alive, I would take the trans life every time because the life I have lived has been different and even more exciting than the normal persons I know.

So, if I cannot blame DES on my lifetime of gender issues, what could I blame? I doesn’t know it. Could I blame mom for letting me watch her apply her makeup before she went out, or my dad who set nearly impossible male standards for me to live up to. Since both of them were products of the “greatest generation” (survivors of the great depression and WWII). They were stuck in their ways, and I was left out when it came to any possible discussion of my gender issues. Plus, both of them have long since passed away, so why bother.

Even though I tried to come out to my mom after I got out of the Army, and was rudely rejected with the threat of psychiatric care, years later when I changed my legal name, I chose my mom’s first name as my middle name and kept my dad’s family name to honor both of them for the sacrifices they made to bring me into the world. I am sure with the lack of knowledge about gender issues at all, they would have honestly said they doesn’t know it when it came to me and my so-called problems which turned out to be anything but in the future.

As I cracked my gender shell and escaped into the world, I discovered two main groups of people to deal with. The easiest group were men who largely left me alone except on isolated circumstances when they tried to mentally abuse me for leaving the male club, I had been a part of. The only thing the abuse did to me was prove I had made the right decision. The other main group was the ciswomen I met. They proved to be very curious of what I was doing in their world and once they determined I meant no harm and was serious for the most part left me alone. The only thing I knew for sure was I was getting more female attention than I ever had in my life, and I needed to make sure I made the most of it. I needed to walk a delicate balance of when to open my mouth and interact, then shut up and listen and learn the basics of survival as a transfeminine person in the world. 

The gender learning curve was difficult, but I managed to learn what was offered to me unknowingly by the women around me. They never knew all they did for me, but I was amazed at the depth of the feminine world around me as compared to the male world I knew. At times I felt as if I was sinking in the new depths, I found myself in until the women I knew rescued me and made me stronger. Finally, I made it to a point where I did know it. I was following my gender instincts for a change and doing the natural right thing. It was time to take the next step and see if I could get approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT. It turned out I made the right decision after quite a bit of thought.

The way my body took to the hormones gave me a whole new opportunity to experience a life I always should have been living. I doesn’t know it was forever replaced by a peaceful gender spirit I wished I could have experienced sooner in life. By this time, I was sixty and had lived quite the life to make up for, as a man. Now I had to make up for lost time and do the best to experience all the gender wonders I had discovered as a transgender woman. 

A Thing of Beauty?

 

My Trans Friend Racquel.

During my male to female gender transition years, I always stressed to the max about my appearance as a transgender woman or cross dresser.

Every now and then, I go back into my very early blog posts to see what I was fixated on and quickly noticed I was all about how I looked. In those days, I thought being a woman was all about looks and beauty and I wanted to overcome my testosterone poisoned body to achieve what I could.

The big test of my so-called beauty pageant was when I began to free myself from the mirror and break out of my closet into the world. By doing so, I found I had a lot of work to do if I was able to make it in the world as a transfeminine person at all. My first big test was too present well enough that the teen girls would not notice me and send me home in tears. During that time, my makeup had to be just perfect, and I did not want to ruin my mascara and carefully applied eyeliner by crying. Even when my makeup and hair was done just right, I struggled to think I was anything close to being beautiful. I just wanted to be presentable and live my new experience as a transgender woman.

It wasn’t until my second wife began to call me the “Pretty, pretty princess” when we fought about my cross-dressing desires, did I begin to think about what she was really saying. Since she was an attractive but a no-nonsense makeup woman, and she was my idol in so many ways, I tried to tone down my makeup the best I could to please her. On occasion, she would even go out with me as my feminine self, so I wanted to do the best I could to not embarrass her or myself with how I looked. Of course, the problem continued to be I could not get away with wearing no makeup like she did which led to more fighting.

Many years later, after she passed away, I began to build my own feminine self from what I had learned about beauty and how it related to other ciswomen around me. The first thing I did was becoming a better student of women than I had ever been before. I needed to remove the male blinders I still had to get a realistic view of the world I so desperately wanted to enter and be a part of. I discovered I paid an inordinate amount of time admiring the beautiful ciswomen I saw and not notice the vast majority of women who were doing the best they could with the physical attributes they had to work with. An example was, I was always worried about my height as a trans woman until I began to notice plenty of other tall successful women in the world I was in.

I became less of the “princess” and more of the trans feminine person who was just trying to blend in an survive. It was about this time when Racquel, a trans woman friend of mine told me I passed out of sheer will-power. My willpower took me into a world of lesbian women when hers took a different path into facial operations and men. I guess, in our own ways we were successful transitioning into the world at large with her as a tall, slim beauty and me on a completely different level socializing at lesbian mixers with my friends. By doing so, I learned valuable lifetime lessons on how to live my life without the validation of men at all. If they liked me fine, and if they didn’t (which most did not) that was fine too. Afterall, I was not the ideal girl to being brought home to see the family for the holidays.

Years later, after I met my wife Liz and we became serious, it was difficult enough for me to meet her family for the holidays. Her dad was an extremely right-wing gun rights supporter, and her brother never talked so I did not know what they thought about me. I will never know, since dad passed away years ago and her brother lives south of Cincinnati in Louisville, Kentucky. All I know is, I was extremely ill at ease during holidays with the family.

Now, all I know is that I present well as being old with non-age-appropriate long hair. I can’t do anything about my age and love my hair, so it is not going anywhere. Perhaps I am making up for all the years I had to have my hair cut short in my youth and military days.

As with all other ciswomen, over the years, I have learned to work with what I have been given physically. I was extremely fortunate to have found people who accepted me for who I am as I presented as myself out of sheer willpower.

 

Fifty Seven Percent

 

Image from Element 5 
Digital 
on UnSplash

During the election results last night, I watched a combination of my local television station and MSNBC for news of the election.

Of course, I was overjoyed with the Democratic party’s sweep of the elections around the country. As I casually listened to the commentators mentioning what they thought of the election results, I heard the transgender word mentioned not once but twice. As a group, we were mentioned about how much resources the Republican party put into their campaign lying about trans women and men. They said, the Republicans put fifty seven percent of their resources spreading lies about the trans community and dodging the issues which really mattered.

From experience with the elections here in Ohio, I knew the percentage was high, but not that much. The incumbent Democratic senator Sherrod Brown was slaughtered with mistruths about the LGBTQ community by the Republican convicted crook Bernie Moreno. Now, Brown is running again against a tRumpt rubber stamped spineless candidate Husted, who is already spreading lies in his campaign.

Regardless of the talk about all the resources the Republicans spent to smear a very small part of the population, the best news was that the tide has began to change, As far as last night’s elections were concerned. Things in the country have gotten so bad under the orange felon that people are seemingly being forced to look at the real issues. Instead of the worn-out idea that transgender ideals are being forced upon your kids.

Locally, in my school district all the Republicans were not elected again and were replaced by an all-Democratic slate of candidates. So maybe now, the school board will not come out against LGBTQ friendly activities in the schools.

Before you think I am being overly optimistic that the tide is beginning to change, perhaps I am because we are fighting an uphill battle here in Ohio for next year’s governor race. tRumpt and Musk backed Vivek Ganapathy Ramaswamy is running against Democrat Amy Acton for governor who I fear is not the strongest candidate.  Her biggest drawback is she forced these idiots in Ohio to wear masks during Covid, and of course she is a woman. Imagine that a ciswoman battling a Hindu for Ohio’s top government seat. The evangelicals won’t know who to preach for.

Maybe, just maybe, it is time to have a little hope for our countries’ future once the orange Russian asset goes away. Another comment the panel of journalists made last night was the populace may be getting tired of the daily turmoil we feel and is ready for a change.

I know I am and am very tired of worrying about what is going to happen next when I go to bed every night. Last night I thought the light at the end of the tunnel was not the train. One thing is for sure, no matter if you are a lesbian or gay person, or a cross dresser wondering about your future as a transgender person, you better pay attention to the next major election because tRumpt and his minions are coming after you, 

 

Falling Asleep in my Heels

Image from Toa Heftiba
on UnSplash.

Falling asleep in my new high heels turned out to be a very dangerous thing for me to do.

There was a time when I was in my early formative cross-dressing years that I thought wearing high heels was a fashion necessity I could not do without. Instinctively I knew the heels made my legs shapelier and longer. But what I did not realize was how much power the shoes gave the ciswoman wearing them. Have you ever noticed how men follow the sound of heels when a woman enters a room? Plus, the power extends from men to other women, who at the least responded to the expertise it took to wear a pair of high heeled shoes.

So, where did the danger come in for me? Actually, in. several different ways. First came the pure challenge of wearing heels. I had never experienced anything like it in my entire life but only knew the shoes made me feel so deliciously feminine. Through sheer effort, I conquered my fear of wearing heels so much that I forgot I was wearing them and ended up with another big problem, looking like a linebacker in drag, in heels. So much so that one night as I was trying to negotiate the stairs at home, my wife barked at me with a feet forward command. I never forgot that night and resolved to walk better in the future.

There were times in my past when heels went out as a fashion accessory and flat shoes were in with over-sized sweaters and short mini skirts for ciswomen everywhere. I was overjoyed with the idea of showing my legs off in tights and opaque pantyhose but again found myself in a situation where I needed to really concentrate on how I walked femininely without the heels I had come to rely upon. It seemed one of my favorite female privileges was taken away just when I was getting used to them. As with anything else in the fashion world of women, if you don’t like something, just wait because change is just around the corner.

That corner for me turned out to be a long way away. My fashion sense turned into a strong urge to blend in with other women in the world. Which meant where I was going, the women around me never wore heels. Especially all of my lesbian friends. Like them, I went for comfort in my footwear and blended right in, especially at all the lesbian mixers I went to.

My caveat to all of this comes from the transgender women such as “Stana” at the “Femulate” blog who have fabulous legs. Years ago, I had the pleasure of meeting her in Dayton, Ohio. Stana is tall to begin with and makes a striking beautiful woman when you meet her in person. Where we met, there were a group of men waiting for a ride when the elevator opened and out stepped Stana in all her long-legged glory. From where I was waiting, I could see everyman in the lobby turning to admire her. As you can tell, I have never forgotten the moment years ago when Stana took every advantage of her legs and heels as a transgender woman.

As I grew older, unfortunately, I had an old football injury destroying my ability to wear any heels at all. I broke my left ankle twice in the same place and wearing heels just became unbearable. To compensate in my own way, I try to buy stylish shoes and boots with no heels that I can walk in.

Regardless, I still remember the days when I felt the power of wearing my high heels gave me. Even after I went through the paranoia of feeling I was so much taller in the shoes. I decided to stand tall and be proud of myself, even though I was barely six feet tall. I had the opposite effect of going to sleep in my heels. I was wearing them proudly when I could. As I said, time has passed for me and I need to go for total comfort in my footwear, and it makes me sad. I feel I have lost a portion of my transfeminine self which will never be reclaimed. In the meantime, I can sit back and admire any woman I see negotiating the world in her high heeled shoes. As I know what she is going through, so I appreciate it.

As for you, if you haven’t checked out the “Femulate” blog yet, try it and you will see several transwomen and cross dressers in their heels and hose. Then you can go home and practice. Till you have your walk down and attempt in the public’s eye and watch out for sidewalk cracks which can cause you problems. Which I know from personal experiences.